Home For Christmas (A Copper Mountain Christmas) (7 page)

"You trust him, right?"

"Completely." Ty's gaze softened. "I know you got burned bad in Phoenix, but folks here are different."

"Accepting Nate's help feels… weird. Wrong." She wrapped her arms over her stomach. "I want to do this on my own."

"You've been doing great on your own, but everyone needs help sometimes." Ty placed his hand on her shoulder. "Nate's a good guy. Honest. Smart, too. I thought turning the Bar V5 into a working dude ranch would destroy it, thought about quitting, but turns out Nate was right. He's the one to ask if you have a question about business."

"You sound certain."

"I am. I trust him with my life and with you."

Rachel knew her brother wouldn't lead her astray, but she couldn't help question Nate's motives. He made her feel warm and safe and smile in spite of herself. No one made her feel like that except Ty, but he was her brother. Nate was a businessman. A nice guy, maybe, but she couldn't shake her misgivings. He reminded her of a firecracker, something to ooh and ahh over and watch explode from a safe distance so she didn't get burned again. "I guess I wouldn't have found out about the Christmas tree farm without Nate."

"That's right." Ty pulled her in for one of his bear hugs. "Everything will be fine, kiddo. Let Nate help you. I have a feeling if you do, you'll make enough money for a lease deposit."

Rachel wanted to believe Ty. But people didn't offer help without wanting something in return. Repaying her brother was one thing, but he could invest in more promising ventures than hers. This had to be about more than gratitude and gingerbread.

Not sex.

Someone wealthy and handsome like Nate could get any woman he wanted. A hardworking baker wasn't high on the trophy wife list. He wanted something else. The question was what.

And would whatever Nate Vaughn wanted be more than she was willing to give?

CHAPTER FOUR

The next afternoon, Rachel stood outside the Main Street Diner with Nate, a folder full of order forms pressed tightly against her chest. Something was ringing. She looked around toward the jingling sound. Down the street in front of the bank, a woman dressed in red and wearing a Santa's hat shook a bell in front of a charity's collection bucket.

"I'm so out of my element." Rachel didn't mean the winter weather. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Come on." Nate wore a black wool coat over his button down shirt and slacks. He'd left his cowboy hat in the truck, but the gingerbread creations he held in a box looked out of place. "You thought canvassing businesses was a great idea yesterday."

"I did." On their drive back from Bozeman, he'd shared his idea. Giving businesses gingerbread replicas of their storefronts in return for them displaying her order forms had sounded brilliant at the time. She'd spent the evening baking and this morning perfecting each miniature shop, but now the prospect of rejection made her nerves as taut as wire cutters. She loosened her grip on the folder and wiggled her fingers. "I wasn't thinking straight. I was caught up in a flurry of excitement."

The wicked gleam in his eyes sent a shiver shooting through her. He cocked a brow. "I excited you."

Yes, but Rachel would die before she admitted that. She'd been trying to take Ty's advice to heart and let Nate help her. Yesterday afternoon, that had worked.

Talking during the drive, shopping at the warehouse, every minute she'd spent with him yesterday had been exhilarating. She'd never shopped with a man who wasn't family or a cook. Had no idea that mundane activities like loading bags of flour and sugar onto a cart and chatting in the checkout line could feel so much like a date.

She must have misread his intentions, her chronic problem tripping her up again. Because Nate's raised eyebrow suggested he was joking around with her, making fun of her or trying to annoy her. Maybe all three. Like a friend of her brother's. She gave him a drop-it-now look. "I'm talking about buying supplies."

He staggered back. "And here I thought I was more than your driver and baggage carrier."

"Don't forget cart pusher," she teased.

"I need to push you right through the diner's door."

His lighthearted tone told Rachel he was kidding, but the courage she'd mustered on the drive from the Bar V5 to Marietta had shriveled like a rotten grape, leaving her insides trembling. Her stomach churned, clenched, and churned again.

"I don't think I can do this." Her voice sounded breathy, barely above a whisper.

"Why not?"

Her feet felt glued to the pavement. The queasiness in her tummy intensified with each passing second.

"I…" She stared inside the diner. Customers sat at tables, eating and drinking and laughing. A waitress dressed in black carried plates full of food. A dark blonde in a long, patterned skirt and black sweater answered the phone. Nothing strange or out of the ordinary as far as restaurants went. But a spider web of apprehension made Rachel feel like the diner's entrance led to the underworld of doom. "I'm a baker. I don't have a head for business. It's one thing to push sweets and treats when I'm standing behind the counter, but to go in and do a hard sell…"

Nate shifted the box to one hand then touched her shoulder, a comforting gestures, something Ty would do. Except this felt different. Not brotherly. More boyfriendly.

Her throat tightened.

Nerves were one thing, but the concern in Nate's eyes did funny things to her tummy. Butterfly things. Things she wasn't used to feeling and didn't want to feel.

Maybe Ty was right when he'd said starting a business was insanity. Maybe she was insane, had lost her mind, somewhere between taking off from Phoenix International Airport and landing in Bozeman.

Nothing else could explain what she was feeling for a guy she'd known three days.

Had to be insanity, right?

"You're a baker, a salesperson, and a businesswoman." Nate squeezed, a gentle pressure that soothed and gave her strength. "You know how to bake. Now you're learning a new way to market your talent. This is a new territory for you. I have no doubt you'll succeed." His words made her feel all gooey inside, like melted chocolate chips. "You need to believe it, too."

"I want to believe, but I keep thinking about the couple in Arizona."

"The couple that screwed you over?"

She nodded. "I wasn't sure if I knew enough about starting a business so that's why I wanted their help. Pamela said my recipes weren't quite there yet and Grayson questioned whether the health department would allow a decorate-your-own-sweet-treat bar in the shop."

"I thought they stole your ideas and recipes."

Rachel nodded.

"They were messing with your head. Making you doubt yourself so you'd think you needed their help. They sound like a pair of master manipulators who have done this before. Put the past behind you and move on. They taught you a lesson: trust wisely and believe in yourself, in your vision."

His words made what happened sound like no big deal, that her confidence hadn't been scrubbed away with a scouring pad.

She fought the urge to lean closer to Nate, as if less distance would allow some of his courage to transfer to her. "I need to believe."

He touched his forehead to hers and sent those butterflies fluttering inside and outside and upside down. "Say it again."

She could barely breathe. "I-I need to believe."

His breath was warm and minty against her face. Her lips.

"Again," he said.

Inches separated his mouth from hers. "I need to, uh, believe."

Breathing would be good. Thinking, too.

"Again."

She pulled away, but he tightened his hold on her shoulders.

"Is this some ninja cowboy mind trick?" Maybe with more distance between him and the guys if he tried this at the ranch.

"Just say it."

"I need to believe."

"Once more."

She took a deep breath. "I believe."

He backed away. "Now we do this."

Rachel hadn't figured out Nate, but so far he was proving himself to be as good a guy as her brother claimed. He could have kissed her, if he'd wanted. She wouldn't have said no, and she had a feeling he knew that. That would have mortified her but she was already on edge. No time for being a sissy about a guy knowing she liked him.

"I'm a fan of your motivational style. I do feel calmer. Does it work with all women?"

He blinked. "It didn't work with my ex-fiancée."

"What happened?"

"Long story." He glanced from Rachel to the diner. "After we've finished, I'll tell you the lowlights."

"Sounds tragic."

"Not really, but if that'll get you inside…"

"Okay, okay."

"You're still not moving."

He pressed his hand against the small of her back. In spite of the layers of clothing and her jacket, she could feel his hand. His touch comforted, but also unsettled her.

Rachel stepped forward, and his arm fell away. "I'm moving now.

She missed his touch. Total insanity.

Nate opened the door. "Inside."

Rachel took a deep breath. She'd lost her dream to the Darbys. There wasn't much left to lose.

She glanced at Nate. At least she hoped not.

An hour and a half later, Nate opened the toy store's door. Rachel breezed past him with a bounce to her step, an empty file folder in hand, and the biggest smile he'd seen all afternoon. He followed Rachel outside, stopping on the sidewalk outside the ice cream shop.

"I'm in shock," Rachel said, her face flushed.

"And you claimed to be nervous. You nailed every sales pitch."

Rachel spun around, the bottom of her beige jacket flaring. "They all said yes. The diner, the kids' clothing store, Café Java, the photo studio—"

"And the flower shop and toy store want to sell your decorate-it-yourself kits." He liked seeing her so happy, expressing her passion, looking to him for encouragement before talking to business owners. "You did it."

She stopped twirling. Gratitude shone in her eyes. "We did it. Without you, none of this would have happened."

"We make a good team."

Rachel nodded once.

Warmth balled at the center of Nate's chest then spread outward. Admitting they worked well together must've been hard for Rachel. Independence was her shield. "This is only the beginning."

Another nod. She chewed on her lip.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss away her uncertainty. But if he did that
she would bolt. So he brushed stray hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail off her face instead. Ignored how soft the strands felt against his fingers. Pretended his pulse wasn't stampeding like a herd of buffalo on the plain.

Hard to do with her right in front of him, all he would have to do was dip his head and brush his mouth over hers.

He knew all the reason why he shouldn't…couldn't, but his heart thudded, a booming annoyance. One taste would shut it up. He hoped.

Rachel's gaze locked on his. Her lips parted slightly. Full, pink lips that likely tasted sweeter than the fudge she'd made earlier.

Kiss me.

Hell, he could almost hear her saying the words.

Talk about tempting and the perfect way to celebrate their success today.

Do it.

The devil on his shoulder urged him on. Nate wanted to, oh, how he wanted to kiss Rachel until they needed to come up for air or they passed out.

Kiss her.

He would. Except…

Rachel wasn't leaning in or moving to kiss him. She was beginning to trust him. He didn't want to blow it.

Unless she gave him a clear invitation, something unmistakable, Nate had to back off. He couldn't be caught up in the moment unless he was sure. He'd never once had the urge to kiss any of the start-up founders he'd worked with as a venture capitalist. No matter how good the news or how much money they made.