A Slow Dance Holiday by Carolyn Brown

Author:Carolyn Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2020-08-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

When Jorja got into the truck and fastened the seat belt, Cameron was still smoldering hot from that make-out session, but he turned the heater on low for her benefit. She now wore a pair of red cowboy boots, but that was all that had been changed. Tight jeans hugged every curve, and her cheeks were flushed from the cold—or maybe from all that kissing. Had it heated her up as much as it had him? He wondered.

Think about cooking or something, anything but the way she felt in your arms, he told himself as he turned on the windshield wipers and drove away from the parking lot. “North or south?” he asked.

“Why?” she asked.

“Distance is a little over thirty miles either way,” he answered.

“Is Gordon that far? I got the idea from Frankie that it wasn’t but a few miles,” she said.

“We need a supermarket, not a convenience store. Mineral Wells is to the northeast. South is Stephenville. Both have a Walmart and several grocery stores,” he explained. “I looked it all up before I moved from Florida, so I’d know what to expect. If one of us needs a hospital, we’d probably go to one of those towns too,” he answered.

“Either one is fine with me, then,” she answered. “Just how much food are we buying today?”

“Let’s try for two weeks’ worth. I’m ready for something more than burgers and fries.” Talking about food almost took his mind off her lips and the way he felt with her lying on top of his body.

“Me, too. I’ve been starving for fried chicken,” she said.

“We could go to KFC while we’re out and about,” he offered.

“Why don’t we start our own tradition.” She would make a lousy poker player because her face lit up and her eyes started to twinkle. “Since we can’t go home for the holidays, let’s do it our way. We’ll have fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, hot biscuits, and corn on the cob for our Christmas dinner. What’s your very favorite kind of pie?”

“Cherry cobbler with ice cream on top,” he answered. “And you’re making me hungry talking about a dinner like that.”

“Then we’ll have cobbler for dessert,” she said. “We can get ice cream at the Mingus convenience store on the way back home. That way it won’t melt.” She took a deep breath and went on. “But for today, let’s go have something like Mexican or Italian.”

“Sounds good to me.” Cameron was glad the highway had been cleaned off and that the traffic was light that day.

He was humming a new country song by Jason Isbell titled “Cover Me Up” and planning to ask the jukebox guy to include it the next time he came by when he noticed movement out of his peripheral vision. He stomped the brakes, hit a patch of ice, and slid to a stop as a buck and a doe crossed the road in front of them.

“Two again,” he said.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Seems like everywhere I

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