Her Christmas Cowboy

by Jessica Clare

  A hand touched her hair, her cheek. It disrupted any thoughts she had in her head, and Amy froze.

  In the next moment, Caleb’s mouth was on hers.

  It seemed they had the same idea.

  She’d been expecting a tentative kiss from him, something that a shy man might start with in order to open up to something more. Not Caleb. The lips that descended on hers were utterly ravenous. He kissed her so hard that their mouths smashed together and their teeth clicked. She tried to laugh, to make a startled comment, but then that devouring mouth continued its conquest of hers and she forgot all about an apology.

  He absolutely did not kiss like a shy man.

  There was no finesse in Caleb’s kiss. It was raw hunger, full of longing and heat and so much need that it took her breath away. His lips were fierce on hers, his fingers grazing her jaw as if he wanted to hold her, to cup her face and just kiss the hell out of her until her toes curled.

  They were curling right now, so mission successful.

  But then he changed the kiss, and it became something less frantic and intense and shocking, and his tongue grazed against the seam of her mouth in a silent question. She moaned and opened up for him, and then they were making out like teenagers, his tongue slowly stroking against hers in the deepest, wettest kiss she’d ever had. She clung to him, wanting to whimper with each drag of his tongue against hers. To just dive into this kiss and never come out again. Her hands curled in the front of his Santa suit and she pushed him backward, just a little, even as the kiss intensified.

  Something fell on her shoulder. A hat, probably. It startled her enough that she broke the kiss, though, and stumbled backward in the dark.

  One strong hand was at her waist immediately, propping her up. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, breathless. “Do you think he’s gone?”

  “Not sure I care,” Caleb drawled, tugging her a little closer.

  Oh god, she wasn’t sure if she cared, either. Amy slid her hand to his nape and brushed against the short hair there. “We can kiss other places than the closet.”

  He chuckled, the sound so raspy and delicious that it made her all tingly inside. “I’m sure we can. It’s just . . .” He hesitated, then continued. “I had a big plan, you know. How to win you over.”

  “You did?” She was stunned.

  “Yeah. Been working on it for a few days now. Had to compete with the jewelry, you know?” His fingers brushed over her jaw in the darkness and she wanted to lean into that touch like a kitten. “Tell you all about how amazing you are. How you take my breath away every time I see you. How special you are. Was gonna start first thing Monday morning.”

  She was melting. Positively melting.

  “But I guess that was a waste of time.”

  Okay, she’d stopped melting. Amy frowned in the darkness. “Why was it a waste?”

  His thumb skated over her lower lip, sending quivers through her belly. “Doesn’t make sense to send you a bunch of anonymous notes when I’ve revealed my hand right here.”

  He had a point. And more than that, he hadn’t realized how much the whole Secret Santa situation had stressed her out. “Anonymous notes would have scared me,” she admitted. “So I’m glad it didn’t happen.”

  He stiffened. “Scared you? Why?”

  “No reason,” Amy said quickly. She didn’t want to get into the details about her ex-husband. Not right now. It’d ruin this wonderful mood she was in. “I don’t suppose you’ll kiss me again?”

  “Only if you want me to.”

  “I really, really do,” Amy whispered. She could have sworn she heard a low groan from him as his mouth brushed over hers, and then they were kissing again and she forgot everything but the touch and taste of his lips. She’d never been kissed so completely, so thoroughly, and with so much intent. It was like she could feel every bit of his hunger for her, and it took her breath away.

  When they finally separated, she let out a sigh of contentment.

  “What now?” Caleb murmured.

  “I’m a little sad I don’t get my notes now. I’d like to hear about how beautiful and special I am.”

  He laughed, just a little. “I had one a day for twelve days. Twelve days of Christmas. And I was going to do something special each day.”

  “Well, now I’m really disappointed,” Amy teased. “We should have held out on the making out for a few days more so I could clean up for Christmas.”

  “I can still give you the notes. But this time you’ll know who they’re from . . . and I’m probably going to want kisses for each one.”

  “As long as you talk to me, I’m fine with that.” Amy smiled into the darkness. “Just . . . don’t be silent, all right? I don’t mind shy, but when you’re quiet, I feel like you don’t like me.”

  He grunted. “Just be patient with me. I’m trying.”

  Oh, she would totally be patient. She would be so damn patient they would sing songs about it. “I can do that.”

  “Maybe I’ll just grab you and kiss you every time my tongue stops up,” Caleb said.

  Okay, she liked that idea. “That sounds good to me.” For a moment, she hesitated, then glanced in the direction of the door. It was all quiet in the classroom, but maybe it was the darkness fooling her. She noticed the Christmas music had turned off, too. “Do you . . . do you think he’s gone? We should probably head out soon. I don’t want to get locked in.”

  “If he’s not gone, I’ll deck him. How’s that?”

  Oddly enough, that worked for her. “Sounds good to me. Um . . . can I ask you for a ride home?” She grimaced, feeling sheepish. “I know I’ve been a total freeloader, but I swear it’ll end soon.”

  His hand brushed against hers. “You know that’s partially my fault, too?”

  “What is?”

  “Your car. I might have dragged my feet on it so I could be around you.”

  She gasped. “You didn’t.”

  “I did. I ain’t sorry about it, either.”

  Come to think of it, she wasn’t sorry, either. She’d just had no idea all this was going on under her nose. Gosh, she was clueless sometimes. “I’m still going to pay you back.”

  He grunted a response that might have been a no, but that didn’t surprise her. He took her hand in his and opened the door to the closet, just a crack. Light played on his handsome face, and it took Amy’s breath away at just how handsome he was.

  “Coast is clear,” he said, and then opened the door wider. He looked over at her and then went silent. His face flamed bright red.

  Uh-oh. “What? What is it?” She looked down at her chest, but no nipples had escaped the duct-taped band of doom.

  “Your face.” He gestured at her jaw.

  Amy touched it, then realized it was sensitive when her fingers brushed over it. Oh, she knew what that was. Beard burn. She’d felt it brushing against her skin as they’d kissed, but she just hadn’t cared. “Is it bad?”

  “It’s not good,” he admitted, voice strangled.

  “Then we’d better get home quickly,” she told him, and hobbled forward on sock-covered feet. Now that he’d stopped the foot massage, the pain was coming back, and she tried to hide her grimace.

  “Stop,” he barked at her.

  She froze.

  He did, too. Then he leaned forward and kissed her, hard. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Easier to talk to you when you’re in the dark.”

  Amy giggled, because it was . . . absurd. Cute but absurd. “You want to put a paper bag over my face, then?”

  “No.” He gave her a scowl and kissed her again. “Wait here. Boots.” He cleared his throat as he walked away. “I’m getting them.”

  Already he was so tongue-tied around her? Her heart squeezed. Poor Caleb. Was she really that scary? She bit her lip and then
ran her fingers over her sensitive jaw. No regrets about the kissing in the closet; that was for sure.

  Maybe they could just make out in the dark a lot. She was down for that.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  By the time they got out to his truck, the parking lot was nearly empty. Greg’s sports car was nowhere to be seen. Caleb opened the door for her as she tiptoed out on aching, cold feet—which was still preferable to the boots—and made sure she was comfortable before he got into the truck himself. He paused and looked over at her, his gaze on her mouth, but didn’t lean over to kiss her again.

  Amy was a little disappointed at that. It looked as if the moment the lights came on, Caleb’s shyness returned. It was like the man in the closet with her had disappeared and his surly, silent replacement returned. For a few moments, she wondered if she’d simply had a mental break and imagined all of it. There’d been no kisses, no heated conversation, no nothing. Just her mind snapping or something.

  But then they’d pulled up to her house and he’d circled around the truck to get her door again. The moment he pulled her free, he picked her up.

  “I can walk,” she protested, even as he carried her to the threshold like she was a dainty, virginal bride instead of Mrs. Claus with blistered feet. When he set her on the porch, he gazed down at her and then kissed her again.

  And that made her smile.

  “I’ll be by in the morning.”

  “Oh, but tomorrow’s Sunday. I don’t have anywhere in particular to go . . .” The words died in her throat as he gave her another intense look. “Okay.”

  “First note,” was all he said.

  Right. She’d told him she wanted her Christmas notes after all. That was a little selfish of her, but she was going to take it. After all, when was the last time she’d felt so very wanted by a man? His thoughtful gifts (and his kisses) made her feel as if she could float on air. “Tomorrow, then,” she murmured. “See you then.”

  He didn’t kiss her good night, though from the look on his face, he probably wanted to. Instead, he just nodded and headed off the porch and back to his truck. She watched him leave, then went inside.

  Donner immediately got up off the love seat, his tail wagging madly as she came in. He circled around her, all wiggly dog, sniffing the air until he found her, and Amy hugged him as he licked her face. “What an evening, Donner. It has been a wild ride.”

  The dog just whined and licked her jaw some more.

  “You want me to tell you all about it? While we go for walkies?”

  The dog went from wiggling to beside himself with excitement. Oh yeah, Donner knew what a walk was. Some jerk had missed out when they abandoned this sweet, wonderful old dog. She hobbled into the bedroom and got her most comfortable pair of shoes, then leashed Donner and took him outside, all the while telling him about her eventful night as if he was a close confidant.

  Maybe he was. She was starting to see why people loved dogs so much. He was always excited to see her, always happy to eat whatever she gave him, and never complained. Yep, she was definitely becoming a dog person. Living in Wyoming was changing her, but she liked to think it was for the better, all around. She was becoming a person with friends of her own, a person with a career. A person with a rent payment, and a dog, and . . . a boyfriend. Potentially.

  Actually she wasn’t sure what she and Caleb were right now. Maybe she should ask him in the morning. He’d probably blush, but she bet she could get it out of him . . . between a few kisses at least.

  Amy smiled into the darkness as she held Donner’s leash.

  * * *

  * * *

  Caleb avoided talking to his brother Jack when he got home from the carnival. He headed straight to his cabin and kept the lights off as he pulled his costume off and lay in bed. He knew Jack would want to know all the details, but . . . he couldn’t share them just yet. He wanted to keep tonight bottled up in his head for a bit, to mull over the details without hearing Jack crow about one thing or another.

  He’d kissed Amy Mckinney. Made out with her in a closet.

  And he hadn’t fucked it up.

  That might have been the most unbelievable part in all of this—that he’d somehow pulled himself together to hit on her. He’d been a changed man ever since he saw her get into Greg’s car. Saw that jackass pull around to the back of the school instead of taking her to a legit date, and Caleb had known—he’d known—what that jerk was up to. It didn’t matter that Amy was an adult and she wasn’t his girlfriend. He stormed his way over to the parked car because he had to make sure that this was something she wanted. She hadn’t seemed excited about the date all night, the sparkle in her eyes gone. If anything, she looked as if she’d been dreading going out with Greg. That didn’t sound like a girl that wanted to park and presumably make out.

  He’d been right, too. It had been dark, but not so dark that he couldn’t see Greg practically fucking pounce on Amy. She’d flailed, and so he’d started marching forward. When he got just outside the car, he saw her pushing against Greg’s chest to no avail, and something in him had snapped.

  This asshole had the nerve to kiss Caleb’s woman.

  He’d seen red. He’d flung the car open and pulled Amy out, and for a moment, he’d been torn between whuppin’ Greg’s ass and just hauling Amy away from him. His girl came first, though, so he’d focused on her. Then she’d hid in the closet with him and started talking, and . . . he’d just talked.

  And talked.

  For him, it was a revelation. He knew it was hard to talk to her when he was looking right at her face. Knew he needed to say more to her, and yet the words never seemed to come to mind. But in the darkness? He couldn’t seem to shut up. She’d sounded so soft and sweet and sexy that he’d been unable to resist approaching her.

  Kissing her.

  She’d been his first kiss. He was old for that sort of thing, but Caleb figured once you found the right person, that sort of thing would just kick in. It certainly had for him. He’d loved kissing her. He’d wanted to kiss her soft mouth for hours and hours on end. She’d been clueless that he liked her, which was startling to him. He’d thought he was pretty obvious about his crush, but she’d been genuinely surprised. Clearly, Caleb was going to have to constantly show Amy just how much he liked her. How much she meant to him.

  Even if he had to turn the lights off just to have a conversation with her.

  Because he’d known the very first time he saw Amy Mckinney that he was going to marry her. Now he just had to convince her . . . and he was one step closer to that.

  His phone pinged with a text.

  HANK: Howdgo

  HANK: U

  HANK: U nd th tcher

  HANK: jst call me

  Hank hated texting—said his fingers were too big for the tiny keyboard—and so the curiosity must have been eating him alive for him to text Caleb this time of night. He ignored his brother, though, turning off his phone’s screen as he put his hands behind his head and thought about Amy.

  Amy and her mouth.

  Amy and the little sounds she’d made as he kissed her.

  The way Amy had felt when he’d carried her in his arms, and the soft expression in her eyes when she looked at him on the porch, as if she wanted him to kiss her all over again. He’d almost done it again, too, but he knew that if he kissed her again, he’d never want to leave.

  And he had a Christmas romance plan to enact. By the end of it, he figured he’d propose. No sense in beating around the bush for months and months like his brother Hank had with Becca.

  Caleb knew what he wanted: Amy. He just had to romance her good enough that she wanted him, too.

  * * *

  * * *

  The next morning, Caleb took pains to avoid Jack. His younger brother would be waiting for Caleb to arrive so he could grill him on how the evening went, and Ca
leb wasn’t ready to share it just yet. So he woke up and showered early, jerking one out quickly so he’d stay in control—hopefully. He trimmed his beard and took care to splash a bit of cologne on as he did, just in case Amy liked a boyfriend that smelled like a piney forest or some shit. He didn’t have much experience in that sort of thing, so he was just winging it. But he thought about how red her face had been after he’d kissed her, how scratched up from his beard, and he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. Time to cut the beard off? Perhaps. He intended to kiss Amy every day from now on, so it might have to go.

  He gathered up the notecards of his plan, his carefully crafted Day 1 letter, dumped all the supplies in a box, and got out to his truck in the dark. It was very early, earlier than Jack even woke up, so he was safe in that regard. When he got to Amy’s, he knocked quietly, mindful that it was still dark outside and her neighbors were probably asleep. He’d been practicing all night what to say to her. How to greet her. Easy conversation topics. Surely it’d be easier for him to talk to her now after what had happened last night. They’d gotten past the awkwardness . . . surely.

  But the moment she opened the door, his mind blanked out.

  Amy was beautiful. It didn’t matter that it was predawn and she was in a night robe, her hair a tousled mess and her eyes heavy with sleep. She wore no makeup, the flaws in her skin visible, but to him, she was utterly gorgeous. She’d look like this when he woke her up, he realized, and it filled him with yearning. He wanted to be the one in bed with her, to give her a cup of coffee every morning. To lean over and kiss her before she got out of bed, because she was his and he wanted her to start every day knowing that.

  The words glued themselves to his tongue. He was empty.

  Caleb stared mutely at her as she yawned, touching her hair even as Donner pushed against her leg, his tail wagging. “Is it morning already?” Amy asked, sleepy.

  He should answer her. Close enough. Yes. Yes, it’s morning. “Morning enough.”