Taboo Frequency
Page 8
Doug had helped Luke build a website and advertise his trees. It had shocked him as much as her when he started getting calls from people. He scheduled the time for customers to arrive, even jotted down what they thought they were looking for.
She’d even helped him mark the tree heights one afternoon so he could find the correct one without wandering through them all.
Recently, their clandestine meetings had been few and far between. Luke suddenly had a busy time of year. And she had no time at all. She missed the sex, his slow drawl, spicy scent and sweet smile, but most of all she just plain missed spending time with him.
In moments of insanity, she yearned for impossible things—like his lopsided boots permanently under her bed and her head resting on his chest each night after they’d made hot, sweaty love.
Adding to her depression, she’d finally checked out the local tree farm discovering that even the cheapest pine was seventy-five dollars this year. Luke had offered her one of his blue spruce, free.
She didn’t want to exist on freebies or rely on him for help that could disappear. Plus, his trees weren’t cheap, they were well-shaped beauties he could sell for a lot. She felt guilty accepting the offer, but buying a tree would mean eliminating even more presents from Santa’s already short list. Kiley had stalled as long as she could but at two weeks before Christmas, she was risking being labeled Number One Worst Mom of the Year if she didn’t get a tree soon.
Luke had tendered his offer again when he’d visited the restaurant the night before. As soon as she’d served him his usual pie and coffee, she’d slipped into the kitchen, hastily grabbing her coat, determined to pick up the kids from Marcie’s house, and avoid further temptation. He’d caught up with her before she could escape.
“Kiley, I’ve got a couple nice trees left that need cut this year. There’s no sense in you wasting good money on buying a pine when there’s a woods full of blue spruce at my place.”
She admitted to herself later that he’d smelled so good she’d wanted to pull him into the restaurant pantry and make up for lost time. Instead, she’d headed for the exit.
He’d cut off her retreat, walking her to her car as he outlined his plan. “We’ll take the kids to my place tomorrow, let them run off their high spirits and throw a few snowballs and such. Then we’ll cut down a spruce, load it in the truck, and bring home your Christmas tree.”
In desperation and against her better judgment, she’d accepted his offer. Now it was tree cutting time and she reluctantly followed her ecstatic crew out the door, watching from the porch as Luke buckled each child into the backseat. Patiently, he held the passenger door open, waiting for her to join the expedition.
“Don’t make them love you,” she warned him gruffly before she slid into the front seat.
His left eyebrow went up and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave her a quizzical look. But he didn’t comment during the drive.
The kids bounced with excitement and Kiley spent her time frowning at them in the backseat trying to quell their squirming anticipation.
Luke didn’t say a thing, chauffeuring them silently through the winter day. When they arrived at his farm, he stopped in front of his house and said, “I’ll be right back.”
He went inside and returned quickly with a thermos and basket of food. “We might get hungry if the kids take a while finding the right tree.”
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” Kiley asked grimly.
“I sure hope so,” he drawled.
She wanted to wring Luke’s neck. He was giving the kids a perfect day they’d never forget. Her heart ached knowing that it was a memory she’d always cherish, too. It was exactly the kind of thing she’d tried to avoid.
From the house, he drove them over a newly plowed path leading to a copse of trees. As soon as he stopped, Emily and Evan unfastened their seat belts, fumbled open the door, and ran through the snow.
Kiley followed Luke, listening to him as he crouched next to the twins explaining to them that trees looked smaller outside in nature than they did in a front room.
“You’re about three and a half feet tall. I expect your mom won’t want anything much over twice your height.” Demonstrating the size they needed, he held his hand high above Evan’s head.
With his instructions in mind, Emily and Evan judiciously walked from one spruce to the next, studying their prospects. When they’d chosen, Luke brought out a chain saw, slapped on some goggles and went to work.
Emily grew bored and drifted away, returning to pelt Evan with a snow ball. He retaliated and soon they were playing in the snow, the adults forgotten.
When the tree came down, Kiley helped Luke drag it to the truck and load it. With that finished, he brushed the spruce needles from her hair and said, “It’s hot chocolate time.”
Looking at him with exasperation, Kiley sighed. The day was flawless—the twins playing in the snow, the tree ready for transport, a hot drink ready to warm her insides from head to toes. Why then did she feel as if she might cry any moment?
Luke set the basket of food on the tailgate and produced sandwiches and plump, juicy pears, before pouring steaming mugs of hot chocolate for both of them.
Leaning against the truck and sipping his drink, he wore a contented expression as he watched the kids play. Kiley blinked away tears, memorizing the moment to relive later.
“Here try this. See what you think?” Lazily, Luke picked up the plate of sandwiches offering them to her.
Almost belligerently she took one, biting into the thick bread and meat, wishing she could sink her teeth into Luke instead.
“What is this? Chicken?” A not quite familiar flavor burst across her tongue. It was delicious.
Luke grinned and shook his head. “Smoked pheasant. Tastes a little like chicken. According to my research, in England they’re called partridges.”
Finishing her sandwich Kate hesitated as she reached for a pear. The word partridge teased her brain. “Hey, you’re serving the food in the song.”
“You said you loved that song the last time we heard it together.”
She felt a blush rush upward, and knew her cheeks were red from more than the cold. The last time she’d heard that song they’d had great sex in his truck—again.
“We’ve got a pear, a tree and a partridge.” He laughed self-consciously. “I had to improvise.”
“Why?”
“I want to be your true love, Kiley. I want to give you the world.” Luke stepped closer, tipping her chin so she had to meet his gaze as he quoted the words.
“On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me—a partridge in a pear tree.” After his voice turned husky from emotion, he paused and cleared his throat before continuing.
“I said I’d never marry again, and maybe I won’t.” He touched his thumb to her mouth, stroking it against the seam of her lips. “It depends on what you say.”
“Exactly what are you offering?” Anticipation hummed through her, warming her from her toes to her flushed cheeks.
“I want to live together, watch the kids grow up together, snuggle in bed together, and make love whenever we want.” He cupped her face between his big hands and said the words she needed to hear. “I love you, Kiley. Will you marry me?”
“Oh my God, Luke. I love you so much. I don’t even know how it happened. You just crept up on me.” Kiley paused, took a deep breath, staring at the kids instead of him, and then said more sedately, “I love you too.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“You need to buy a puppy. Then you’ll have everything you once said you wanted.”
“What’s that?” he asked with a quizzical look.
“A dog, a patch of ground and two point five kids,” she gazed up at him, watching his dear face crinkle in a smile when her words finally sank in.
Epilogue
September, a year later…
The website had worked better than expected. Luke smiled as he su
rveyed the stretch of cars going all the way back to the main road.
He’d made enough money off his trees last winter to plant more, and put in a vegetable patch in the spring.
His plantings had also included a field of pumpkins because his research indicated that they were big sellers in the fall. Today’s crowd proved that to be true. Dads and moms tried to keep up with their kids as they raced through the open field, inspecting the different varieties before choosing the perfect one.
Kiley had even taken a pumpkin carving class and Danvers Farm now offered “Let’s Make a Jack-O-Lantern” sessions. Kiley had put the sign-up sheet right on the checkout counter. Business was brisk. And that wasn’t all.
After he’d attended a farm auction and snagged an old hay wagon and harness dirt cheap, he and Kiley had spent a good part of the summer learning how to manage horses hooked to a wagon carrying people.
It had been crazy fun and more than a few times they’d used practice as an excuse to meet up for a quickie in the back field. Kiley said they needed to keep their taboo trysts because with kids to contend with, fucking was cheaper therapy than a shrink. The woman had an ornery streak in her a mile wide. He loved it. He loved her.
The kids got so they just snickered and rolled their eyes when the mention of horses and hay wagons came up. But mixed in with shenanigans in the wagon bed, Luke and Kiley had actually learned to handle the team. They’d added it to the website in their menu of fun, and the reservations poured in. They’d been doing hay rides every weekend for a month. And they never had an unfilled spot in a wagon.
Doug had pulled together a group of volunteers who built Marcie’s Farm Palisade. Hay tunnels, slides, and a climbing wall, offered more kid fun for the farm tours that were booked all the way to the end of next month.
Jeannie, Luke’s mother-in-law had gotten into the spirit of things and set up a concession stand for another source of revenue coming in. That had turned into three food carts and two additional local women to run them.
Last weekend, Church Eliot had booked a hayride and bonfire for Church’s Bar & Grill. Luke had filled two wagons with Church’s friends—the Smoke, Inc. crew. Even the company’s head honcho climbed onboard and partied with the rest of them until sunrise. After Kiley cooked breakfast over the remnants of the campfire, they’d eaten their fill and left singing high praise for Danvers Farm. Luke already had three holiday business parties booked as a result of Church’s testimonials.
The business was pure hard work, but he loved it. After the holidays, after the new addition to the family, when things settled down, Luke planned to take Kiley and the kids to Austin. He wanted to visit Angel House first. It seemed important to him that she see where he’d been before he met her.
While they were in Texas, she’d also meet the rest of the men he’d served with. But most of all, if he admitted it, he wanted to show off Kiley Endicott Danvers, and the family she’d shared with him.
He sighed, and slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they walked toward the barn.
“You fine, secret agent man?” she teased, stopping a moment to study his face.
He gazed down at her, taking in her rounded belly, her big smile, and the glow of happiness in her eyes.
“Oh, yeah,” he answered gruffly. “With you by my side, I’m better than fine.”
The End
Read Cowboy Burn, the next book in the Smoke, Inc. series
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