Western Kisses – Old West Christmas Romances (Boxed Set) by Carré White Page B

bear the idea of making you sleep on a hard floor.”
    She brushed past him, intent on laying out some blankets, but he grabbed her wrist. Colton’s hand was like iron. Lottie gasped and turned to face him, only to see him smiling in the way that got her to let him inside in the first place.
    “I insist, ma’am,” he said softly. “I thank you kindly for the blankets, but I’ll lay them out.”
    He was inches away from her, his scent filling her nose with the aroma of saddle leather, work on the trail and dust from the windstorm he’d just endured. Lottie had to pause for a second to make sure she didn’t stammer when she replied. Slowly lowering her arm to her side, Colton patted Lottie’s hand and thanked her again.
    “Mr. Howe,” she said, “I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone quite like you.”
    Something fluttered on the tip of Colton’s tongue, but instead of saying it, he clapped his lips shut. A moment later, he said, “I’m sorry, it was forward of me to grab at your hand like that. I apologize.”
    His breath was barely above a whisper. After a few seconds passed, and neither of them made any more distance between themselves, Lottie tilted her head, looking straight into Colton’s eyes.
    “Blankets are,” she swallowed again, relishing his scent. “They’re, uh, over there.” She looked past Colton and indicated a trunk in the corner.
    “Much,” he paused for a breath, “obliged.”
    Still, no one moved. The two stood there, inches apart, captivated by one another’s eyes.
    “Will you be getting them?” Lottie finally asked. “They’re very nice, thick blankets. Soft,” she said, averting her eyes.
    Colton did not look away. Lottie could feel his gaze burning against her skin even while forcing herself to look past him.
    “Yes’m,” he said in his whispering growl. “Thank you. For the blankets.”
    “Well you’d best go to it then,” Lottie said. “You’d hate to leave in the morning without getting a good night’s worth of sleep.”
    “I would be remiss to do so. Very dangerous to be on the trail without proper rest.”
    Lottie coughed and just couldn’t handle it anymore.
    “Well then, very good,” she said with a nervous laugh. “The blankets are... yes, well that’s been covered. Good night, Mr. Howe!”
    “Colton,” he said, freezing her in place when she was halfway through the hall leading to her room.
    Slowly, she turned. The six-foot cowboy brushed his hair back, but otherwise remained stock-still, exactly where he’d been.
    “I’m sorry?”
    “Colton,” he said. “That’s my name. I’d like it if you’d call me that. Mr. Howe was my grandfather, God rest his soul.”
    Those eyes, I just can’t stop looking at them. So green, they’re like a fire full of copper shavings.
    “I can do that,” she said in a whisper. “Colton.”
    His name tasted like hot bread dripping with butter and honey, piping hot, just as the sun came up behind a frost-covered barrel cactus. Lottie touched her chest, a little amazed at how brazen she was being, ravishing this man with her eyes.
    Why am I doing this?
    “Good,” he said.
    Another half-grin sent chills down Lottie’s back. She tried again to turn away, but some unseen force, some impossible gravity, kept her locked where she stood, staring at the dirty cowboy in her living room.
    “Will you be taking your rest soon?” Lottie’s hands trembled as she asked her absent question, which was just an excuse for her to keep looking at those burning emeralds.
    Slowly, Colton crouched down and retrieved a few blankets from the trunk, but never took those twinkling eyes away from Lottie. “These are fine blankets,” he said. “Very soft, just the thing I need after a long day on the trail. If you’d like to stay up and talk more, I’m happy to do it. I’d hate to be a poor guest and send you scampering off to bed before you were good and ready.”
    His words hung heavy in the air, circled Lottie’s