The More Mavericks, the Merrier!

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The More Mavericks, the Merrier! Page 6

by Brenda Harlen


  By the time he finally finished his paperwork, shut down the computer, checked on the kids and crawled beneath the covers of his bed, he was exhausted. Accustomed to the early mornings and long hours of running a ranch, he’d learned to fall asleep quickly even if he didn’t sleep as deeply as he used to. He was so attuned to the sounds that his children made, he could often hear them stirring and tell when they were about to waken before they actually did so.

  But tonight, his own sleep was elusive. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw Fallon as she’d looked in the laundry room. Her back—long and narrow, the ridges of her spine visible beneath her creamy skin. The expanse of bare flesh broken only by the narrow band of white lace that stretched across her middle and tiny straps that went over her shoulders. The sweet little indent at the small of her back, just above the waistband of her jeans. The sexy slope of her strong shoulders. He could have stared contentedly at her back for hours—then she’d turned around.

  He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. He shouldn’t be remembering Fallon like this. They’d been friends for a lot of years. She’d been his confidante through some of the darkest periods in his life. She was the only person who knew about some of the worst days of his marriage. The one person he’d always trusted to listen and not judge. The one person who had always been there for him when he needed someone. And it would screw up everything if he let himself want her.

  In the past ten months, he hadn’t experienced even the most basic stirrings of physical attraction. He’d been too exhausted to feel much of anything. And that was okay. Every free minute he had, he spent with his kids. And every day, he sent up a prayer of thanksgiving that he’d been given the gift of three beautiful, healthy babies. He didn’t think about romance except to think that he might be ready to start dating again around the time that HJK were ready to start school—as in college. He hadn’t expected to feel any kind of sexual awakening before then—and especially not for his childhood friend.

  Okay, so there had been that one kiss, more than seven years earlier. A kiss that never should have happened. A kiss that had, nevertheless, lingered in his mind for a long time afterward. The sweetness of her lips, the softness of her body, the absolute perfection of that one stolen moment.

  Maybe he’d briefly considered the possibility of allowing that kiss to lead to something more. But even then, he’d valued her friendship too much to jeopardize that relationship for the sake of a sudden and unexpected attraction. Thankfully, he’d left the next day for his second year at college, grateful for the time and distance to get his head back on straight.

  A few weeks later, he’d met Paula, and he’d pushed all non-platonic thoughts about Fallon to the back of his mind.

  Neither he nor Fallon had ever mentioned the kiss again. And when he’d told her that he was getting married, she wasn’t anything but supportive. Even after the wedding, she’d continued to be there for him, listening to his hopes and dreams, worries and frustrations.

  He’d told her things he’d never told anyone else, because she was firmly and unequivocally in the “friend” camp. Discovering her half-naked in the laundry room had apparently shifted her into the “want to get naked with” camp.

  At the very least, he wanted to know if she was wearing white lace panties that matched her bra. And did she prefer bikinis or boy shorts or hi-cut briefs? The formation of the question in his mind proved that he’d spent too much time thumbing through the pages of the Victoria’s Secret catalog his sister had left on the kitchen table.

  Maybe he wasn’t ready to think about getting married again. Maybe he wasn’t even ready to start dating again. But his body was definitely in favor of ditching the celibacy phase that had never been his idea. Thankfully, his rational mind knew that thinking about Fallon in conjunction with that plan was a very bad idea.

  Unfortunately, his subconscious didn’t agree. And when he finally fell asleep, he dreamed about her in his arms...and in his bed.

  Chapter Five

  Jamie pulled HJK’s sleigh over the snow, toward the woods on the west side of his property, while Fallon walked beside him, dragging an empty toboggan onto which he would secure the tree that they cut down. The air was cold and crisp, typical of Montana in December, the snow crunching beneath their feet.

  Fallon was wearing slim-fitting jeans tucked into knee-high winter boots, a navy ski jacket with a pink pom-pom hat and matching mittens. The color should have clashed horribly with the red curls that peeked out beneath her cap, but it didn’t. Instead, she looked like she’d walked off the front cover of an L.L.Bean catalog—a woman as comfortable in her clothes as she was in her surroundings.

  He wondered how it was that he’d known her forever, but every once in a while, he would look at her as if he was seeing her for the first time and be struck by how truly beautiful she was. Today was one of those days. While he viewed this outing as a chore, she was obviously excited about their purpose and it showed in the color in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes.

  He halted at the edge of the tree line and turned to her. “Okay, pick a tree.”

  “Me?” she said, obviously surprised.

  “Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  “No, we’re here because you need a Christmas tree,” she reminded him. “I only agreed to tag along because I knew there was no way you could chop down a tree and get it—along with three babies—back to the house on your own.”

  “No, you’re here because you didn’t trust that I’d comply with your list,” he guessed.

  “That, too,” she confirmed, not even attempting to hide her smile. “But this is really about sharing—or starting—family traditions with your children.”

  “If you expected three ten-month-old babies would have any input in selecting a tree, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  He gestured to the sleigh, where Henry, Jared and Katie had all fallen asleep.

  Fallon sighed. “I should have remembered that the motion of the sled knocks them out.”

  “Looks like it’s up to you and me,” Jamie said.

  She didn’t let herself read too much into his words. Didn’t want to admit—even to herself—how much she wished there was a “you and me” that included her and Jamie.

  “It’s your tree,” she reminded him. “So you should pick.”

  “Okay. How about that one?”

  Of course, he was pointing to the closest one for, she suspected, no reason except that it was the closest one. She looked the tree up and down, then walked around it, emerging again from the other side shaking her head. “It’s too big.”

  He pointed to another undoubtedly random tree. “That one?”

  She immediately nixed that suggestion, too. “That one’s too small.”

  “Make up your mind, Goldilocks.”

  “Goldilocks?”

  He reached out and tugged on the end of one of her curls. “Your hair might be the wrong color,” he acknowledged. “But you’ve mastered the picky part.”

  “There’s a difference between being picky and discerning,” she told him. “And this shouldn’t be an impulsive decision. You have to think about where you’re going to put the tree, you should check to ensure there aren’t any big gaps between the branches, that the trunk is relatively straight and the needles are healthy.”

  He swept his arm out, gesturing to the wooded area. “Pick a tree—please.”

  She performed a quick visual scan of the area, then did another walk around a different tree. “This one,” she decided.

  He glanced from the one she’d selected to his original choice and back again. “That’s the same size as the first one I picked.”

  “The same height,” she allowed. “But it’s not as full, so it won’t take up as much space in the livi
ng room.”

  Though he still looked skeptical, he shrugged. “Okay.”

  He picked up the saw and moved closer to the tree. Before he started cutting, though, he reached between the branches to grab hold of the trunk and give the tree a good shake to dislodge any critters that were making it their home.

  The branches were pretty low to the ground, so Jamie cut off the lowest ones before he crouched down to attack the trunk.

  Fallon stood out of the way, keeping an eye on the still-sleeping babies, while Jamie got started. Though she would never admit it to him, she enjoyed watching him work—especially in the hot summer months when he’d strip down to his jeans and T-shirt. Well-worn jeans that molded to the strong muscles of his butt and thighs, and simple T-shirts that stretched over his broad shoulders.

  Today, in deference to the frigid winter weather, he was wearing a sheepskin-lined leather jacket over a flannel shirt over one of those T-shirts. Despite the layers, she couldn’t help appreciating the width of those shoulders, the obvious strength in his arms. He was incredibly and beautifully built, with the kind of rock-hard muscles that were honed through years of ranch life and could never be replicated in a gym.

  It always made her heart sigh to see this strong man being so gentle with his babies. To watch those big hands fasten the tiny snaps on a diaper shirt or affix a miniature barrette in Katie’s wispy hair. And whenever she caught him snuggling one of those tiny babies against his broad chest...well, if she’d been the type to swoon, that scene would have made her do so.

  Thankfully, he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on her. Not just because of their long-time friendship but because she knew he was grieving the loss of his wife, and it would take time for his heart to heal. But she also knew that he had an incredible capacity for love, because she saw evidence of it every time he was with his babies. And there was a tiny blossom of hope inside of her heart that maybe, someday, he might love her, too. In the meantime, she was content to be part of his life and shower all of her love on his children.

  When the tree was strapped down on the sled, with the saw secured beneath it, they headed back toward the house. Henry, Jared and Katie never woke up. Not until Fallon helped Jamie lift them out of the sled and extricate them from their snowsuits.

  After they were settled in their play yard with an assortment of favorite toys, Jamie wrestled the tree into the living room. The pungent scent of fresh pine filled the air and filled Fallon’s heart with nostalgia. Christmas truly was her favorite time of the year. She had so many wonderful memories of the holidays with her family, so many traditions they still shared—shopping and wrapping, baking and caroling—and those were what she wanted to help Jamie create with his family.

  She understood his reticence. The holidays hadn’t been a lot of fun for him in the years following his parents’ deaths. And, of course, this was his first Christmas without his wife. But it was also his first Christmas with his babies, and she knew that if he could be convinced to make an effort for them, he would find joy in the celebration, too.

  And putting up a Christmas tree was, she believed, a first step in the right direction. Which was why she was on her stomach on the floor in the middle of the room, holding the base while he maneuvered the stump in place.

  Thankfully, he’d had the foresight to cut off some more of the lower branches before bringing the tree into the house, so she wasn’t completely suffocating beneath it. When it was finally in place, she tightened the screws, then wriggled out from beneath the branches and stood up beside him. “What do you think?”

  He tilted his head and considered. “I think it’s a little crooked.”

  “It looks great,” she assured him.

  “Maybe if I—”

  “No.”

  He frowned. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You don’t need to do anything. The tree is perfect just the way it is.”

  “Perfect?” he echoed skeptically.

  “Perfect doesn’t have to mean without flaws,” she told him. “Sometimes it only refers to what fulfills your need in the moment.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment, and something in the depths of his blue eyes made her suspect that he was thinking of needs unrelated to the upcoming holiday. The intensity of his stare made her heart pound and her blood pulse.

  Then his attention shifted to the tree again. “In that case, I’d say this perfect tree doesn’t need any lights or decorations.”

  “And you’d be wrong,” she said, pleased that her even tone gave no hint of her inner turmoil.

  “I figured you would say that,” he admitted.

  Fallon opened one of the boxes he’d brought down from the attic, looking for lights. The boxes were clearly labeled, but for some reason the contents didn’t match the tags. She finally found the lights in the third box she opened—the one marked “Tree Decorations.” She had yet to find the actual tree decorations. As for the lights—

  She sighed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Jamie winced when she held up a tangle of wires and miniature bulbs.

  “Oh.”

  “Who put these away like this?” she asked.

  “I guess I did,” he admitted.

  She tossed him the knotted mess. “Then you can untangle them.”

  He didn’t grumble too much about the assigned task. Of course, she ended up helping, because nothing else could go on the tree until the lights were on.

  “How was shopping with my sister yesterday?” he asked, as he picked up a second strand of lights.

  Thinking back to the hours she’d spent in Kalispell with Bella made her smile. “It was a lot of fun.”

  “Did she find a dress?” he wondered.

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  “I’ve hardly seen her,” he admitted. “I heard her come in late last night, then as I came in from the barn this morning, she was on her way out again.”

  “Yes, she found a dress,” she told him, replacing a burned-out bulb while he continued working at the knots. “After trying on about thirty different styles—and looking fabulous in every single one—she finally went back to the first one that had caught her eye. Then she had to choose her veil and shoes and...well, you probably don’t want to know what your little sister’s going to be wearing under her gown, but I can confidently assure you that she’s going to be the most beautiful bride Rust Creek Falls has ever seen.”

  Too late, Fallon remembered that Jamie and Paula had been married in town, at the same church where Bella and Hudson planned to exchange their vows. And, of course, his wife had been stunning—a veritable fairy-tale princess in an elaborate white gown with a full skirt heavy with crystals and beads. Unfortunately, their marriage had not led to happily-ever-after.

  “Or at least the most beautiful bride next June,” she amended.

  “You don’t have to watch what you say around me,” Jamie told her. “We’ve been friends too long for you to worry about censoring your words now.”

  “I know,” she agreed. “But I also know this whole year has been incredibly difficult for you, and it must be hard to feel happy for Bella when your own marriage didn’t turn out the way you hoped it would.”

  “I can’t deny that my marriage wasn’t what I’d hoped, but it isn’t hard to be happy for my sister,” he said. “Maybe I am a little concerned that everything seems to be happening so fast, but there’s no denying how much Hudson adores her or how happy they are together, and that’s all I want for her—to be happy.”

  “She says the same thing about you,” Fallon told him.

  “I know,” he admitted. “But right now, I’m focusing on being grateful. I’ve been blessed with three wonderful kids and I feel like it would be selfish to want anything more.”<
br />
  “Wanting to win the lottery might be selfish. Wanting to be happy is human.”

  “Are you happy?” he asked, looking up from the tangle of wires and meeting her eyes.

  She stood up with a strand of lights in her hand. “How did this get to be about me?”

  “I know you’ve always wanted to get married and have kids of your own,” he continued, turning his attention back to his task. “But you’ve put that dream on hold for the better part of ten months to take care of my family.”

  “Maybe.” She climbed onto the step stool he’d set up by the tree. “But I don’t regret a single minute of it.”

  “What are you doing?” he demanded, dropping the lights and crossing the floor in three quick strides until he was standing by the stool.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” she countered.

  “It looks like you’re trying to kill yourself,” he said, lifting his hands to her hips to hold her steady.

  Except that she’d been steady—until he touched her. Now she could feel the imprint of his hands through the denim, and her knees felt weak and shaky.

  “You’re not supposed to stand on the top step,” he admonished.

  “I can’t reach the tree top if I don’t,” she pointed out.

  “Then get down from there and let me do it,” he suggested.

  “If you want me to get off the stool, you need to move away.”

  “If I move away, you’re going to fall,” he countered.

  She rolled her eyes as she shifted her feet to turn around. And realized her new position left Jamie looking directly at her crotch. And while he’d loosened his grip enough to let her turn, the lighter touch of his hands on her hips felt almost like a caress. Now her legs started a full-on wobble.

  “I, uh, need to get down,” she said.

  “I’ve got you,” he promised.

  If his words were intended to reassure her, they had the opposite effect. She took one step down, then another, but he didn’t shift away, which meant that by the time her feet were firmly on the floor, their bodies were so close they were nearly touching.

 

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