A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Boones of Texas, Book 1)

by Sasha Summers

  Before he lost himself to the feel of her, he stepped back and drew air deep into his lungs. “It’s late,” he whispered. But the sight of her made the fire in his stomach burn higher. Her eyes were still closed, her face still angled for his kiss. “Jo?”

  Her eyes opened, heavy-lidded and dazed.

  He pulled her back against him. One hungry look was all it would take to make him forget about going slow. His arm kept her close while his fingers traced the side of her face. “I should get you home.” He needed to say it, out loud, so he’d do it.

  She blinked in confusion. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she put some space between the two of them. She took his hand in hers and nodded.

  * * *

  “THANKS FOR THE RIDE,” Dara said, climbing out of Josie’s little red rental car.

  “Thank you for all your hard work.” Jo put the car in Park. “Dad’s cookies always taste good, but I don’t think they’ve ever looked so pretty. I know people will be really impressed at the parade, Dara.”

  The girl’s blush was precious.

  “Do you need help carrying any of this?” Josie glanced in the backseat at the bags of lights Dara had brought to decorate the float.

  “I can make a couple of trips if you need to get back,” Dara said.

  “The bakery’s closed. Between Dad and Lola, I think they’ve got things under control.” She smiled at the girl and turned the car off. “I didn’t want to be the third wheel.” She was very pleased to see her father kiss Lola on the cheek this morning, in front of half of Stonewall Crossing. She figured the other half knew all about it by now. “Besides, the weather’s too pretty to miss.” For the first time in three days, the sun was warm and the breeze wasn’t frigid. She climbed out of the car and popped the trunk, revealing more lights and some green plastic garland.

  If she was completely honest with herself, she wanted to stay. This was where her story was coming from. The parade, the holiday, the float. Something about those lights in the park, all warm and brilliant, like the colors of Christmas wrap and holiday dresses, had started her off. Then the float, the kids, all stacking up to be a wonderful holiday story of small-town Texas life—what she wrote and illustrated best.

  The fact that they were putting together the float at Boone Ranch was another perk.

  She’d fallen asleep with the searing memory of Hunter’s kiss still hot on her lips. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been kissed plenty of times—she had. But this was more than a kiss. And, since she was admitting things to herself, she might as well face the fact that she was falling in love all over again. She just didn’t know what to do about it.

  “Hey, Josie.” Fisher joined them. “Looks like you got here just in time.”

  “Oh?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “We were about to head into town, for more of these.” He reached into the trunk and pulled out the garland. “Eli, Tyler, Rogan!” he called, waving them over to her car. “You staying to help?”

  “If you need it,” she said, risking a glance at the boys hurrying to the trunk.

  “More help is always needed,” Fisher said. “Come on.”

  “Man, Dara, you buy the place out?” Eli was all smiles for the girl.

  Dara was playing it cool. “We got what was on our list,” she said, handing out bags. “Hope it’s enough.”

  Fisher nodded. “Should be. If not, we can get Hunter to stop off on the way home to pick up anything missing.”

  So Hunter wasn’t here to run interference between her and Eli. But that didn’t matter. No interference was necessary. She could be charming. She could show Eli she wasn’t really an evil homewrecker. Well, she could try. She winked at Dara, grabbed the last shopping bag of lights and her art case, and headed toward the trailer.

  She worked for two hours. Every time Eli walked by she’d smile or say something funny, but he’d just nod and keep going. Dara joined in, making Eli wander by more often, but still no luck. While she was doing everything in her power to draw Eli out, Dara seemed just as determined to shut the boy down. She hoped Dara wasn’t still holding his moodiness against him. She tried to observe the two of them, unobtrusively. Eli was polite, asking to help or to bring the girl a drink. Dara was equally polite, but there was no denying her disinterest. They were too young for this, weren’t they?

  Preteen romantic drama aside, she and Dara worked hard. They wrapped garland tightly around the four-foot wire frame that would eventually be a topiary rabbit. Once it was suitably green and fluffy looking, they started to unroll lights.

  “Looks good.” Hunter’s voice startled her.

  “Well, hello there, stranger.” And just like that she was happy. “How was work?” She stood, stretching her back after being hunched over for so long. “How are the puppies?”

  “Pups are getting fat, like pups do.” He stepped forward, close enough to touch her if he wanted to. And, from the look on his face, he was thinking about more than touching her.

  She stepped back, glancing around. She may want him to touch her, but this wasn’t the place for it. Eli wasn’t glowering at her...yet. “And Mars?” she asked, dropping back to her position beside the lights.

  Hunter sat beside her. “She’s good. Some movement today.”

  His nearness complicated her breathing, so she stared at the tangle of lights in her lap.

  His voice was low. “You don’t want me to kiss you.”

  She glanced his way, then back at the mess of lights. “No.”

  He cleared his throat before asking, “No, never again or no, not right now?”

  She heard the hesitancy in his voice and met his gaze. “Not right now,” she managed to whisper. She wasn’t ready to make a public statement with him.

  He gave her a quick grin, then asked, “Need help?”

  “You should take a break, Miss Stephens,” Dara said, taking the lights from her. “I got this. We get volunteer hours.”

  Josie smiled at Dara. “Okay.” The wind kicked up, cutting through her flannel shirt and the thermal underneath. “When did it get cold?”

  “Clouds rolled in.” Hunter looked up at the sky. “Four years without snow or ice and now we’re getting both.”

  “Guess it followed me from Seattle.” She glanced at the sky. “If you’re sure you don’t need me...”

  “Leaving?” he asked, standing beside her.

  “No.” It took a lot not to hold his hand. “I thought I’d stay awhile and draw. If that’s okay?”

  “Anytime, Jo. Make yourself at home.”

  Chapter Ten

  No matter what Hunter was doing, he was aware of her. She’d staked out her perfect location on a large willow rocking chair on the corner of his porch, tucked her legs beneath her and opened her sketch pad across her lap. Her presence, her grace, the fluid movement of her pencil back and forth across her sketch pad, fascinated him. Some of her hair had slipped free from her braid and lifted, dancing in the wind, but she didn’t bother tucking it into place. She was lost in the world she was creating.

  By the time the sun was on the horizon, he was dragging. The float was always an exercise in patience, for the kids and their parents. But in the end nothing smoothed feathers and filled everyone with pride like seeing their work come together. Now that the build was behind them, the mood grew more celebratory.

  “I called Gabriel, and he’s getting the grill ready,” Carol Garcia, one of the moms, said. “Anyone hungry?”

  Hunter smiled at the explosion of whistles and yells from the kids. A quick glance at Jo showed she was completely unaware of anything going on around her. He accepted handshakes, offered a few claps on the back, helped locate stray phones or coats, then rounded up any remaining supplies before everyone loaded into their cars and trucks. But Jo kept working.

  “Dad?” Eli pulled his coat on, looking more animated than he’d been all day. A glance over his son’s shoulder showed Dara climbing into the Garcias’ family car. “Greg Hayes wants me to sleep
over after the cookout,” Eli all but begged.

  Hunter looked at his son. He’d been a real handful all day, sullen one minute, smiling and funny the next. He didn’t know what to do with him, but he knew keeping Eli home would result in another bout of pouting and he didn’t have the energy or the patience for that right now. “Fine. But listen to his folks, remember your manners and don’t be too late tomorrow.”

  Eli nodded, a strange look settling on his face. His son’s gaze bounced back and forth between him and Jo. “Okay.” His son swallowed before asking, “You gonna come to the cookout for dinner?”

  Hunter shook his head. “But you have fun.”

  Eli’s mouth tightened. “See you tomorrow.” He shot Jo another look—a look that almost made Hunter call his son back to his side for a talking-to. But he was beginning to wonder if talking to Eli was the answer. This might be a situation Eli should work through on his own.

  Hunter nodded at Greg’s dad as Eli climbed into the truck. With a nod back, Mr. Hayes and the boys left.

  He walked around the trailer, checking wires and cords, testing the rope tie-downs and tucking extra blankets in. He stood at the edge of the porch and coughed several times, loudly. Jo stretched, arching her back and bending her arms as far back as she could. He watched her come back to reality, slowly, confusion registering as she took in the deserted lawn. “Everyone gone?” she asked. She shivered, turning her big silver-gray gaze toward him.

  He nodded. “Didn’t want to interrupt you.”

  “I totally zoned out.” She tucked her pens into the small zipper case at her feet. She stood, nodding at the trailer. “That looks amazing.”

  “You sound like you’re surprised.” He took the steps two at a time, coming to stand by her on the wooden porch. He turned, surveying the trailer.

  “No, not really.” She nudged him in the side.

  He nudged back. “You were gone today.”

  She glanced up at him, a slight furrow on her brow. “What do you mean?”

  “When you work.” He let his gaze wander over her face; the tip of her nose was red. “The world around you fades away.” He knew how it was. The world seemed to fade away whenever they were alone, as they were now.

  “Sometimes.” Her words were husky, her gaze getting tangled up in his. “Hunter, what are we doing?”

  Starting over. But all he said was, “Decorating a float.” He knew exactly what she was asking, but he didn’t know what she wanted to hear. His fingers tucked a curl behind her ear. “Getting ready for Christmas.”

  Her voice was unsteady. “Is that all?”

  “Is it?”

  She shook her head, cupping his face in her hands. “You’re not standing here, freezing your butt off, waiting to kiss me?” He smiled, because even though they were completely alone, on several thousand acres, she’d whispered.

  His eyes closed, absorbing her touch. “I’ll keep waiting, Jo. Until you’re ready,” he said, daring to meet her gaze. In her eyes, he saw all the need and want and uncertainty that gripped him. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

  She leaned into his touch, but her gaze never left his.

  “It’s cold. Come inside? I’ve got some stew and corn bread, if you’re hungry.” He offered her his hand. She could reject him—he sort of expected her to. But he hoped. When it came to Jo, he’d always hope.

  She nodded, easing the tension in his stomach. She beamed at him as he held the door open for her. She brushed against him and a whole new range of emotions took over. He watched her, the way her hands twisted in the hem of her shirt, the way her eyes zeroed in on the fire burning low in the grate.

  He crossed the room, kneeling before the fire to add some logs and stoke up the flames. When he turned, she stood before him, staring down at him. He stood, aching to drag her against him. If he only knew what she was thinking. “Jo?”

  She reached for him, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head to hers. He caught her then, tenderly cradling her face. The sheen in her eyes surprised him, as did the way her lip trembled. “Hunter, please.” Her words were husky, rough, needy.

  With a growl, every last bit of resistance left him. He’d wanted to be gentle, to love her tenderly, to take time to savor every inch of her. Maybe next time. He bore them back into the wall, nuzzling her neck and ear with his nose.

  She smelled like cinnamon, spice and Jo. She ignited every nerve, making his heart ache and his body throb. His lips brushed hers, lingering on her lower lips and making her gasp. He turned into her, sealing her mouth with his. God, he wanted her, he needed her. She stirred a hunger in him that shook him to the core. It was powerful, and relentless.

  He nudged her lips open and breathed her in deep. He kissed her then, without restraint. Pure emotion, mingled breaths, his hands cupped her neck, holding her to him. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head and holding her, letting his tongue explore until they were both breathless. He ran his nose along her neck, listening to the sound of her ragged breath. She was trembling as his lips latched on to her earlobe.

  “Hunter.” His name, torn from her lips, set his blood boiling.

  He stopped, pulling back. In that moment, he knew there was no one who would ever make him feel the way she did. It was more than her touch, the texture of her skin, her scent. It was Jo. His Jo. In his arms. Where she belonged.

  Her eyes opened.

  Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, surprising him. She tugged his undershirt free from his jeans, her palms cold enough to make him shiver but not shy away. And then she was kissing his neck, her hands moving over his stomach, his chest, driving him crazy. When she realized his shirt snapped, she yanked, popping it open. Her urgency fueled his—she wanted him and he wasn’t going to let her down. He shrugged out of his shirt, ducking down to let her tug his undershirt over his head. She stood there, shaking her head.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “It’s just... It’s you. Different, sure. But you, you know?” She took his hand in hers. “It’s still you.”

  Words failed him. She wasn’t just talking about his body. She felt it, too? She had to. She blew out a long, unsteady breath.

  “I missed you, Jo.” His thumb ran over her lower lip. He had to kiss her, had to touch the soft skin beneath her sweater. She was like silk, too fine for the roughened pads of his fingertips. But now that he was touching her, he couldn’t stop. He trailed his fingers up her sides, then back down, needing more. “Stay?”

  She nodded, taking his hand in hers.

  He looked at their joined hands, then led her to his bedroom. He turned, wanting to tell her the truth. He loved her, he wanted her... But before he could say a word, she pulled her sweater off and dropped it on the floor at their feet.

  * * *

  JOSIE GASPED. ONE MINUTE he was staring at her, the next she was lying on her back in his big bed. He leaned over her, the hunger in his eyes inflaming her.

  His fingers trailed the edge of her pale blue lace bra. He dipped his head, nuzzling her chest. He pressed soft kisses, the tip of his tongue tracing the valley between her breasts. She clasped his head to her, twisting her fingers in his hair, exhilarating in his touch.

  He stood, unhooking his belt and unbuttoning his pants. She rose on her elbows, watching. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She grinned. She’d been dreaming about Hunter, about his body, about the way he made her feel. Now it was happening and she didn’t want to miss a thing.

  “Want to help me with my boots?” he asked.

  She stood, letting him sit on the edge of the bed. She turned, tucked his foot between her legs and grabbed the heel of his boot. Then she grabbed the other. She faced him, tossing the boot over her shoulder.

  His hands gripped her hips, pulling her between his legs. He buried his face between her breasts, his arms an unbreakable vise about her, holding her, protecting her, loving her. She ran her fingers along his shoul
ders, arching her back as his mouth nipped at the skin along her bra line.

  Her hands traveled along his shoulders. She loved the feel of him, the raw strength of his body.

  His fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra while she shimmied out of her jeans and panties. It had been a long time since she’d stood naked in front of anyone, but the look on his face made her feel beautiful. She was lost to the rasp of his breath, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her against him, skin to skin. His hands were relentless, exploring each curve, stroking and teasing until she thought she would burst.

  He kissed her, laying her back on the bed beneath him. At some point his boxers joined the mass of clothes spread out all over his bedroom floor.

  She cupped his face, her gaze taking in his every reaction. Flared nostrils, locked jaw, his eyes radiated hunger and need barely restrained. Her fingers trailed along his cheek, his neck, tracing the corded muscle along his sides to grip his hips and arch against him. He groaned, his molten-hot gaze searing her as he slowly entered her. Such sweet torture. Breathing was a challenge. He stopped then, buried deep and breathing hard, and rested his forehead against hers, letting them both adjust to the feel of one another.

  His hand smoothed the tangled curls from her face before he kissed her. When he moved, they came together, which drew her into a place of pure sensation. Each touch, each sigh, left her wanting more. She moved with him. She’d forgotten how magic they were together. Sweet and soft, hot and hard, his body pushed her higher. She welcomed each thrust, holding on to him with all the strength she had. When her body tightened, the power of her climax forced her to cry out. His body bowed, each and every muscle contracting against her. Together, they fell over the edge. From raw and unyielding hunger to flushed, peaceful fulfillment, she was content.

  He lay at her side, his hand sliding across her stomach to cup her breast. She looked at him. He smiled back. “Warm enough?” he asked gruffly.

  She started giggling. “I’ve still got my socks on.”