A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe (10 page)

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Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson

BOOK: A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe
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Although they might be a tad overprotective, he couldn’t blame them. Until this move to Sheridan, she’d lived in Cheyenne all her life. “Considering your mom only knew me from that calendar,” he said, “I’m not surprised they showed up tonight.”

“Me, either, but she feels guilty about intruding. I told her not to worry about it. When I called her on Thanksgiving I probably sounded homesick, and then I mentioned I’d invited you over to help decorate the tree. She thought I was going off the deep end and needed an intervention.”

“You think she’s feeling better about me now?”

“Definitely. Until tonight, she was afraid I’d been seduced by a rogue.” Then she laughed. “Good thing she wasn’t in the parking lot or she might still think so.”

“No kidding. I was a desperate man.”

“I’m not complaining.” She glanced over at him. “About next weekend, I’ll do my best to clear time, but I should warn you that I’ll have to work at least part of each day.”

“That still leaves us two full nights.”

“I know, but it seems inhospitable to go off and leave you alone in my apartment.”

“That’s okay. I can bring my laptop and work on case files while you’re gone. I’d be doing that at home, anyway. I won’t have to worry about getting behind.”

“Are you okay sneaking into town without telling Rosie and Herb?”

“If you can keep a secret, so can I.” He settled back in the seat and turned so he could watch the play of light on her face. It would be a long week, but he was a master at delayed gratification.

“What if you should meet someone you know on the street?”

“Easy. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll drive straight to your place and stay there until I leave on Sunday.”

“Mmm. I like that. It’ll be like I have you captive for the weekend.”

“A willing captive. Just bring me food and drink and I’ll satisfy your every desire.”

She squirmed in her seat. “You’re turning me on.”

“And that cuts both ways.”

“Predictable anatomical consequences?”

“Exactly. Let’s talk about something that has nothing to do with sex.” He had a sudden thought. “Unless you tucked one of the condoms in your purse?”

“Sorry. Didn’t occur to me. What if I had?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Are you talking about having sex in the boonies?”

“Damn straight. You have the perfect car for it. The backseat folds down. The road between here and the ranch has dozens of little places to pull off into the trees.”

“That’s right. You went to high school here. You would know about those places, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She blew out a breath. “And now I’m all hot and bothered again.”

“But we have no little raincoat.”

“No, and even if we did, that would be a bad idea. We’re supposed to go to a party and if we stopped along the way we might never make it. Even if we did finally arrive there, we’d look as if we’d been having sex in the boonies.”

“Good point. Although like your folks, everyone at the party will assume that we’re attracted to each other, and if we haven’t done the deed, we’re heading in that direction.”

“Which we are.”

“In six days.” After just congratulating himself on his ability to delay gratification, he saw those six days stretching out endlessly. “When are your parents leaving tomorrow, exactly?”

“I have to go back to work at four, so they’ll probably take off around three-thirty. Why?”

“Oh, just thinking.”

“I recognize that tone. I work until seven, so don’t even go there, Ty. That’s crazy.”

“I’m not so sure. I could be at your place when you get home. If I left by one in the morning, I’d be back in Cheyenne in time to shower, shave and head off to work.”

“Absolutely not. I won’t have you cavorting in my bed until the wee hours and then struggling to stay awake on the five-hour drive home.”

“Cavorting?” He chuckled. “Is that what we’d be doing?”

“No, because we won’t be in my bed together tomorrow tonight and that’s final. Get some sleep tonight and drive back to Cheyenne fully rested. We’ll reconnect on Friday night whenever you get to town.”

“I figure it might be after ten on Friday. You okay with that?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I am. I can’t wait.”

Nothing like a hot woman eager for his body to make him feel a little reckless. “I could show up at seven-fifteen tomorrow night and stay until nine. Then I’d be home by two. I can operate on five hours of sleep, no problem. I survived on less when I was in law school.”

“I swear, Ty Slater, if you’re at my apartment tomorrow night, I’ll send you packing.”

“After we have sex or before? Because I’m okay with you sending be packing afterward.”

“We’re not having sex tomorrow night, so save yourself the trouble and drive home at a decent hour.”

He reached over and stroked her thigh. “Sure about that?”

“Yes!” She slapped his hand. “Cut it out.”

Chuckling, he sat back in his seat. He’d heard the telltale quiver in her voice. “Okay, then I’ll arrive at seven-fifteen and leave by eight.”

“That’s almost drive-by sex. I’m not interested.”

“Yes, you are. You’re breathing a lot faster than you were a few minutes ago. We can make this work, Whitney. Short and extremely sweet. Then I don’t have to leave town without knowing what it’s like to be deep inside you.”

She sucked in a breath. “You’re playing dirty.”

“Whatever works.”

“My mother was right in the first place. You are a rogue.”

“Only with you. With everyone else I’m a conservative lawyer with an extremely well-organized sock drawer. You inspire me to be something different. And I like it. I think you like it, too.”

“Maybe I do, but please don’t stay in town until I get off work tomorrow night. Be sensible and go home.”

“Tell you what. I’ll sleep on it tonight and decide tomorrow.” He already knew what he was going to do, but she’d probably buy that line of BS.

“Good. Once the buzz from the wine has worn off, I’m sure you’ll see that waiting until next weekend is the way to go.”

“You’re probably right. Okay, slow down a little. The turnoff to the ranch is up here to the left.”

She eased up on the gas. “I’m really glad to be invited to this party. Ever since I heard about the academy I’ve wanted to visit.”

“You should have asked. Rosie would have been thrilled to have you come out.”

“I know, but she’s been so busy I didn’t want to bother her. It’s only recently that I’ve noticed she’s starting to relax. This stamp of approval from the state must have made her very happy.”

“It did. They’re booked up for the spring semester even without this, but now the kids will get high school credit. That’s huge.” They came to the familiar bend in the road. “Next road on your left.”

She turned in where he’d indicated and her headlights swept over the sign. “Wow, that’s beautiful.”

“My foster brother Damon and his fiancée, Philomena, made it.”

“Oh, Damon and Phil! They come in for coffee a couple of times a week. Cute couple. And of course I recognized him right away from his calendar picture. Will they both be here?”

“I’m sure.”

“Anyone else I might know?”

“Cade Gallagher.”

“Right! Mister April, the first boy Rosie brought to the ranch. He doesn’t stop by for coffee all that often, but Lexi does. And her mom, Janine, was in the shop just today.”

“She and her husband should be there. They’ve been close friends of Rosie and Herb for years.”

“I just realized that I might recognize most everyone here if they buy coffee at Rangeland Roasters.”

“If they’re friends of Rosie’s, chances are they do because she’s recommended the place. She’s big on supporting local businesses.”

“I love Rosie.”

“That makes two of us.” At his first glimpse of the ranch house, he admired the excellent spacing of the lights strung along the roofline. He and Damon had accomplished that on Thursday morning while Cade had straw-bossed the operation. Cade had plenty of talents, but using hand tools wasn’t one of them.

Damon had forbidden Cade to touch the staple gun after he’d fooled around and stapled his sleeve to the porch railing. Cade and Damon had traded insults while Damon had taken his own sweet time pulling out the staple with a pair of pliers. He’d turned it into a major operation, and Ty had laughed until his sides hurt. Good times.

The lights created pools of color in the clean snow banked against the front porch, just as they had years ago when Ty had lived here. Apparently Rosie and Herb had stopped putting them up after all the boys left, but if Damon had anything to say about it, they’d go up every Christmas from now on.

He’d become quite the sentimental guy after getting engaged to Phil. They’d have a late June wedding at the ranch, and Ty already had it on his calendar. Rosie was beside herself with joy because she’d finally get to help plan a wedding for one of her boys.

“The ranch house looks really pretty, Ty. Who put up the lights?”

“Me and Damon.”

“He’s special to you, isn’t he?”

“How can you tell?”

“It’s the way you say his name. Was he one of your best friends back then?”

“Not when I was living here, although I always liked the guy. We’ve become a lot closer recently, but my best friend at the ranch was Brant Ellison.”

“That name doesn’t sound familiar.” She navigated around the snow-packed circular drive. “Where should I park?”

“There’s a space between those two trucks.”

She pulled the Subaru neatly into the spot. “So will Brant be here?”

“I doubt it. He’s working on a ranch down in Cody and last time I talked to him he wasn’t planning to drive up this weekend. Something about a mare about to foal.”

“Too bad he couldn’t come.” She shut off the engine. “I’d like to meet your best friend. He probably has some good stories about you.”

“Oh, yeah, he does.” Ty laughed. “And you can’t believe a single one of them.”

“So you say.”

“He’ll probably come up Christmas Eve and stay for a couple of days. Maybe then you could—”

“I’ll be in Cheyenne with my folks those exact same days.”

“Oh. Well, then we’ll just see how things go. Maybe he’ll stay a little longer.”

“Sure. You never know. It might work out.”

“I hope so.” All of a sudden he really wanted her to meet Brant. Funny how that hadn’t seemed the least bit important with the various women he’d dated since he’d left Thunder Mountain. But Brant would like Whitney and vice versa.

He could almost hear the big guy advising him.
Hang on to this one
,
kid,
he’d say
. She’s a keeper
. Brant was only a year older than Ty, but he was two inches taller and thirty pounds heavier. He’d called Ty kid from day one.

“Thanks for driving us here.” Ty unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll stick with coffee so I can take the wheel on the way back. You should have some champagne. I’ll bet they’ll be serving it.”

“You were planning to drive me back? You don’t have to do that. I can drive myself home. I’ll bet someone could give you a ride in the morning.”

“They could, but I’d rather let you enjoy the party.”

She gazed at him. “That’s very sweet, but I hate that you’ll have to turn right around and drive home.”

“I’m not crazy about it, either, but it’s too cold to sleep in the truck and your futon is out of the question. I’m not getting a motel...” He paused as a new thought came to him. “Unless you would consider—”

“No, Ty, I would not.” Laughter rippled in her voice as she unbuckled her seat belt “Tempting as you are, it would be just my luck the night clerk would be a customer at Rangeland Roasters.”

“Hadn’t thought of that. Guess I’ll be driving back to the ranch.” He glanced at her. “Ready to go in?”

“Almost.” She reached behind her seat and pulled her purse into her lap. “Let me fix my lipstick first. Someone kissed it all off.”

“That rogue from the Thunder Mountain calendar, I’ll bet.”

“Matter of fact, you’re right.” She flipped open the lighted visor mirror and he watched her stroke her upper lip with deep red lipstick. It slid smoothly as she applied it to one half of the bow and then the other, leaving her top lip looking wet.

He’d seen the color on her earlier when she’d come out of her bedroom ready for the party, but this was different. He was watching her put it on a mouth that he craved with an intensity that amazed him. Quietly he laid his hat on the dash.

Lips parted, she swept the lower one with the ruby color and inspected the result in the mirror. “Done.”

“Afraid not.” Tunneling his fingers through her hair, he leaned over and took that glistening mouth with a swiftness that made her gasp. Immediately he eased up on the pressure so he could enjoy the erotic feel of her glossy lips against his. He’d be covered in dark red lipstick but he didn’t care. She’d have tissues in her purse. All women did.

But not all women could kiss like Whitney Jones. She gave up the fight at once, obviously realizing that once his mouth had touched down, her repair job was ruined. So she cupped the back of his head and opened to him with a soft moan that sent a message straight to his groin.

He had no business doing this when they had a party to go to, but her coat was still unzipped from their last hot kiss and he wanted to touch her more than he wanted to breathe. Her front-clasp bra was a temptation he couldn’t deny himself.

In seconds he was stroking her silky breasts and listening to the sweet music of her whimpers. He wouldn’t take things as far as he had last time. They were right outside his foster parents’ house, for God’s sake.

But when she sucked on his tongue, he quickly became hard. If he didn’t stop now, he was liable to haul her into the backseat, and that would not be cool. He’d started this, so he’d have to put an end to it, much as he didn’t want to.

Pulling together the unraveling threads of his self-control, he lifted his head and slowly slipped his hand out from under her sweater. “Enough.” His voice sounded like the scrape of a boot on gravel.

She sucked in air. “What was that all about?”

“Your lipstick.” Releasing his grip on her head, he reached under her sweater, located the two parts of her bra clasp and fastened it.

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