Her Cowboy's Way
Page 16
She sobbed and threw herself into his embrace. “Oh, Colby.”
It took her a while to make up with him, to prove to him how much she loved him. When he left her in bed a good hour later, he was grinning…and very well satisfied. So was she.
***
Walking away from his naked wife had been damn hard to do. Colby adjusted his package in the too-tight jeans and headed down the stairs. He could have gone another round or two, but she really did need some rest. In truth, so did he. That cold hadn’t kept her from giving as good as she got.
Once he’d satisfied himself that his men were handling the chores just fine, he drove into Hinkley. He would pick up the fencing materials Thad had ordered. And he had another errand to run.
He started up Main Street and spotted Brandi’s small accounting office and pulled up out front for a minute. Small sparkling lights surrounded the big window. She’d put up a tree there, too. At least this tree was decorated. He and Thad had hauled an eight-foot tall tree home the other day, but she hadn’t gotten around to decorating it yet. Her cold had hit by then. He felt guilty about the long list of holiday things she wanted to get done, which would include decorating the tree. There was no reason he couldn’t help out with some of the stuff on the list. Maybe not the cookie baking, though. He could tote his folks’ decorations down from the attic tonight and decorate the tree for her.
“Colby Pennington!” Annabelle Anders shouted at him and whacked his front bumper with her cane.
She hobbled with amazing speed to his side of the truck. He rolled down the side window and grinned at Hinkley’s oldest living citizen. “Afternoon, Ms. Anders.”
“I got that special order necklace in yesterday. Mighty pretty. Brandi’s going to love it.” She hobbled back around to the passenger side. “Give me a ride home and you can pick it up.”
“Be glad to, ma’am.” She’d had a jewelry store in town for most of his life, but closed it last year when she decided to retire at eighty-seven. But she still had connections and took care of special orders for people. He’d worried that his custom-designed necklace wouldn’t make it in time for Christmas. “I’m sure glad it made it here.”
She crawled up onto the high seat alone, because she frowned on anyone helping her. “I told you I’d get it.”
He drove her home without getting to say another word. She was a talker and she had a lot to say about his wife. He never tired of hearing about Brandi and was damn proud of her. He didn’t understand why she seemed to think she was unworthy of him, or so she’d sobbed out earlier. She’d mumbled about her being irresponsible and trying to get better. Something about him thinking she was too young for him, too. He’d done his best to quiet her tears and prove to her how much she meant to him. He thought he’d gotten through to her, but he’d also gotten lost in their lovemaking.
Turning into Annabelle’s driveway, she finished up her praises. “That sweet wife of yours worked a miracle for me, I tell you. She re-worked the last three years of my tax returns, managed to get me back a bunch of my hard-earned money when I most needed it. Yes, that Brandi is brilliant. Best accountant ever. I’ll be sending everyone I know to see her come the start of the next tax year. You tell her that, hear me, boy?”
“Yes, ma’am. She’ll be right appreciative, too.” His chest swelled with pride, he was surprised the snaps on his shirt didn’t pop. His wife was a special woman, in a lot of ways.
Even though he was anxious to get home again, it took him an hour, two cups of coffee, and half a dozen cookies before he managed to walk out of Annabelle’s house. Snowflakes the size of silver dollars had started falling. The clouds overhead looked thick with snow. He needed to pick up the fencing and get headed home.
He glanced back at the white-haired woman who barely came up to his shoulders. “Thanks again, Ms. Anders.”
He patted the small box in his coat pocket. The whole gift-buying thing was hard. He’d suggested to Brandi that they only get each other one gift, but he knew his wife. She wouldn’t have listened. She was a shopper. She loved giving gifts and he was okay with that. He was just slow witted when it came to picking out gifts himself. What if he bought the wrong size? What if it was the wrong color? Did she already have something like it and he’d forgotten? The list of his worries went on and on.
But when he’d run into Ms. Anders and she’d gotten him to talking about Brandi, she’d come up with some suggestions from the jewelry she sold. Then when he’d seen this necklace with the delicate red rose on a whisper-thin gold chain, he’d made his decision. Brandi was his precious rose. He’d never known he could be so sappy about something, but he was about this necklace. He just hoped like hell it would be enough for her. Maybe he’d take her shopping or somewhere special after the holidays. Maybe that would make up for the lack of presents from him under the tree.
He headed back to his truck when Annabelle called after him. “You give that pretty gal of yours an extra big hug for me, you hear.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He wanted nothing more than to get home, to crawl into bed with his wife and get skin-to-skin with her.
Brandi looked out the front window for the hundredth time, searching for signs of Colby’s truck coming up the ranch road. The pretty big snowflakes had turned into a blizzard about an hour ago. He should have been home by now. Darn it anyway, he should have heard about the snowstorm headed in their direction. He shouldn’t have gone into town. She was going to give him a serious piece of her mind when he got back!
Tears stung her eyes as she turned to face the tree she still needed to decorate. Stupid cold had kept her from doing so much. Well, that and she’d fallen asleep for a while after he left the room. She’d woken up to see snowflakes fluttering by the open blinds on the window. She’d wanted to put up the decorations, but she’d ended up being too worried about Colby. She’d put them up tomorrow.
She glanced at her cell phone she’d been carrying around and ground her teeth. She’d been calling him every few minutes for the last hour and just getting his voicemail. Frustrated, she started to punch in Thad’s cell phone number and tell him to go track down her husband. Then she spotted headlights turning into the ranch yard and knew they belonged to Colby’s truck.
Relief rolled over her. Irritation as well. He’d about worried her to death.
Impatient, she sped into the kitchen which smelled of the gingerbread cookies she’d made especially for him. She stood next to the center counter and tapped her bare foot on the tile.
He opened the door, didn’t notice her and sniffed the air. “Gingerbread. You’ve been baking, haven’t you? Dammit, Brandi Lynn.”
“Even if I made them just for you?” she countered, snagging his attention.
His eyes widened at the sight of the see-thru red baby doll she’d bought for Christmas and decided to wear for him tonight. She was doped up on cold medicine and ready to enjoy her husband, again. And every hour on the hour all night. Or until he just couldn’t manage anymore.
“You should be in bed.” His voice was husky; his hands unsteady as he shed his coat and hat and hung them on pegs by the door. “Did you at least rest some?”
“I’m done with talking about my needing to rest. Done, done, done. Do you hear me?” A tear threatened to slip out of the corner of one eye. “I’ve been worried about you,” she added on a sob, motioning out the window. “The weather…. What took you so long getting home? And why didn’t you return my calls?”
“The road was crappy and I had to all but walk the truck home.” He heaved a disgusted sigh. “My damn phone is acting up again.”
His gaze was focused on her breasts, more so on the hardened nipples, as he walked closer.
“I made your favorite cookies, didn’t cook any for the ranch hands. Just you.” She sniffled, embarrassed about having this emotional breakdown. But she’d been terrified something had happened to him.
He touched the side of her face. “I’ll brag on that to the men tomorrow.”
His eyes darkened in appreciation. “I’m glad you got impatient.” He gave her the crooked grin she loved. “So, can I take it off of you now?”
Her heart raced and moisture pooled low in her quivering body. “I made a fire in the fireplace, spread out a blanket in front of it.”
He got the message and his nostrils flared with interest. “Sounds good to me.”
She took his hand and dragged him into the other room. When they stopped by the blanket, she looked at the bare tree waiting nearby for her attention and guilt spread through he. “I’ll decorate it tomorrow. I promise.”
“No,” he said quietly. As she glanced at him in confusion, he added, “We’ll decorate it tomorrow.”
“But you’ve got chores to do.”
He caressed her face. “I’ve got a wife who has been feeling bad and needs help. I can spare some time for you.”
“I’m sorry I was such a problem for you today.” He never ceased to amaze her.
“Sweetheart, I shouldn’t have nagged at you and I apologize. I just care so damn much.” He drew in a deep breath, released it and his eyes had turned to a molten dark chocolate. “How about you take the pretty little thing off? I’m afraid if I tried, I’d end up ripping it away.”
Trembling from the promise in his gaze, she almost ripped the nightgown and panties off. But she wanted to wear it again for him on Christmas morning. As she set the pieces on the end table a couple of feet away, he hunkered down in front of her. His hands took hold of her hips and she shivered. Was he going to…?
He captured her gaze, his expression determined. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I first spotted you in the skimpy nightgown.”
He leaned forward, his mouth moving closer, his warm breath brushing over her muff. He held her in place and his magical tongue sought her out.
She held his head to her, threaded her fingers in his scruffy hair. Heaven help her. So many sensations tore through her, the strongest being how much she cherished her cowboy. It didn’t take long before he had her crying out, “Oh. My. God! Yes!” Her knees went weak and she would have collapsed if he hadn’t held her.
When she’d recovered enough, he leaned back, grinning in smugness. “There’s nothing like making my woman scream out.”
“You can do it any time you want, cowboy,” she sassed. “Any damn time.”
Still grinning, he said, “I got you something special for Christmas. Just one gift, though. But I hope like hell you’ll like it.” His fingers were finding their way to where his tongue had been seconds ago.
She had trouble thinking straight. Yet she saw the vulnerable look in his eyes. She managed to stroke the side of his beard-roughened face and smiled with all the love she felt for him. As he’d said earlier, it hadn’t been an easy first six months of marriage for either of them. And she imagined they’d continue having rough spells, but she was determined more than ever to make this work. They weren’t going to be one of those divorce statistics.
“All I’ll ever need is you, Colby Pennington. Anything more is just extra.”
“Back at you, Brandi Lynn Pennington.” His eyes looked watery, but he was back to grinning. His fingers hadn’t moved, still barely inside her.
The emotion could have been expressed better, more romantically. She didn’t care. This was the man she loved. She gave him a saucy look and prodded, “Back to what you were doing. Focus. On me. It’s all about me now.”
When his thumb flicked her clit and lightly pinched it, she moaned.
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Yes, ma’am. It’ll be my pleasure, ma’am.”
The end
About the author
Starla Kaye wears many hats professionally and as a writer. She is the community coordinator for a Midwestern accounting firm, a gerontologist who volunteers with an active group of senior adults, a mentor/teacher of writing, and a multi-published author. She dabbles in writing romances of many sub-genres: contemporary, historical Western, medieval, sci-fi, fantasy, paranormal, and Regency. To date she has published 20 novels, 37 novellas, 7 anthologies, and 15 short stories.
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