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instinctively wet her dry lips in anticipation of the kiss. She was a boiling pot of desire just wanting to feel his mouth on hers.
    ***
    Creed wanted to taste those luscious lips more than he’d wanted to kiss any other woman in his life. When she moistened her full lips he could hardly wait for the sizzle that they promised. She had shut her eyes and was leaning in toward him when Noel jumped between them and her paws landed on Sage’s hip bones.
    Sage’s eyes popped open.
    Creed took a step back so she could see that he didn’t have his hands in that place.
    Sage blushed and mumbled something about Noel being hungry.
    He set the pan on the floor and turned around to remove his coveralls for the umpteenth time that day.
    â€œGuess she likes her milk,” Sage said.
    â€œLooks like it.”
    â€œHow am I going to get Angel fed without Noel drinking her supper too?”
    Creed chuckled. “I figured you’d name her Mary since she had babies in the manger because there was no room in the inn.”
    â€œI thought about it, but a cat shouldn’t be named after Jesus’s momma. I’m not one for making God mad in the middle of a blizzard. Besides, all that fluffy hair reminds me of angel wings.”
    He pointed. “Look.”
    The cat and dog were sharing the pan of milk.
    â€œI told you they were friends,” Creed said.
    ***
    Sage was afraid the “almost-kiss” would be an elephant in the room all evening, but it wasn’t. They had soup again for supper and she actually felt like she’d known Creed forever. He could be an outlaw or a serial killer. Just because he’d charmed his way past Grand didn’t mean that he was the greatest thing since ice cream on a stick. She shouldn’t trust him and it riled her that she did.
    Before Sage trusted anyone she had to know them a long time, but there she was laughing and talking to him as if they’d both grown up on the Rockin’ C. She was supposed to be making him miserable, not befriending him.
    At the supper table, Noel begged and whined. When they set a pie pan of soup and corn bread on the floor Angel joined her again.
    â€œShe’s even eating carrots, Creed.”
    He leaned over so he could see the animals. “Which one?”
    â€œAngel is eating carrots and peas.”
    â€œShe’s hungry,” Creed said. “Poor little thing probably thinks she’s died and gone to heaven.”
    Grand’s voice whispered into her ear, He’s a good man.
    She wanted to argue with her grandmother, but her heart said that Grand was right. Creed was a good man. He could be trusted. He just wasn’t the right man for the Rockin’ C.
    When she slipped into her bed that night she laced her hands behind her head and stared at the dark ceiling. It had been the strangest day of her entire life. Maybe it was because she didn’t have a telephone or a laptop, and the only person she could talk to was Creed. Maybe those three pieces of mistletoe really were an omen.
    Whatever it was, she sure hoped the next day wasn’t a repeat, because it was confusing the hell out of her. She touched her lips and felt cheated. She’d wanted that kiss to see if she really was attracted to the cowboy or if it was just a simple proximity issue. Close by. Nothing to do but think about those sexy eyes and dark hair. Cooking together. Working side by side. Cats with babies. Pregnant dogs. All combined, it would knock a hole in any woman’s hormones.

Chapter 4
    Going to bed before nine o’clock made for an early morning. Creed looked at the clock beside his bed at four o’clock. He rolled over and pulled the window curtain back. The snow was still falling just as hard and fast as it had been when he went to bed. The wind whirled down the canyon walls turning the naked mesquite and scrub oak limbs into musical instruments that hummed something like Christmas carols.
    There was no