Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance)

by Mcdavid, Cathy

  The ornament—Ethan must have had it custom-made for her—wasn’t the only reason for the sudden change. He cared for her and showed her as much with his kindness to her brother and his respect for her feelings even when he didn’t agree with them.

  Hearing jingle bells, she turned her head. From this distance, the wagon looked like a wind-up toy. No, like the ornament. The illusion faded as the wagon drew nearer. Ethan sat in the driver’s seat, the collar of his sheepskin jacket pulled up to protect his neck from the cold wind that sailed through the valley, his hat settled low on his brow.

  Soon they would be leaving for her place. Her insides tingled with anticipation.

  It was then she noticed the teenager sitting next to him was holding the reins, not Ethan. She heard him instruct the boy, “When we get to that tree, pull back and tell ’em ‘whoa!’”

  The wagon rattled to a stop a minute later, and the passengers, all in high spirits, piled out. Those waiting in line for the last ride of the night eagerly took their places.

  Karen Lawler, the chair of the festival committee, stepped into her line of vision.

  “Caitlin, my dear, the wagon rides have been an incredible success. Did you see the picture in today’s newspaper?”

  “No, but I heard about it.”

  “You should get a copy.” The reindeer antlers Karen wore on her head tipped back and forth as she gestured excitedly.

  “I’ll check my computer in the morning. See if the picture’s in their online edition.”

  “Do you think the Powells will be willing to give wagon rides again next year?”

  “I have no idea. You can always ask.”

  “I was counting on you to do that, seeing as you’re so close to them.” There was no mistaking Karen’s implication. Like half of Mustang Valley, she’d concluded Caitlin and Ethan were romantically involved.

  Caitlin waited for a flood of embarrassment to heat her cheeks and tie her tongue. It didn’t happen.

  Interesting.

  “I’m also counting on you to volunteer again,” Karen continued.

  A few weeks ago, Caitlin might have hesitated or declined, unsure if she was remaining in Mustang Valley or not.

  “Of course I’ll volunteer.”

  “Lovely,” Karen trilled, and clasped Caitlin to her. “Merry Christmas, my dear. I must run. I’m meeting up with my grandchildren.”

  All the passengers had loaded up, and the wagon was ready to depart on its last run of the festival. Caitlin started clearing the table.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Sage admonished, hurrying toward her. “Let me. You were only supposed to relieve me, and you ran the table the entire evening.”

  “You and the girls were enjoying the festival.”

  “Go get yourself an ice cream or a cup of coffee before all the vendors close for the night,” Sage suggested.

  “Okay. If you’re sure you don’t need me.”

  Caitlin didn’t get ten feet away before discovering she really wasn’t interested in food. If no one claimed the seat beside Ethan, maybe she’d go on the last ride with him.

  The thought was barely formed when Cassie plunked down beside him and Gavin went over to talk to him.

  Well, it had been a good idea while it lasted.

  A minute later, the wagon still hadn’t pulled out, and the passengers were getting restless. While Caitlin watched, the brothers traded places, with Gavin taking over the reins. He settled next to Cassie, while Ethan climbed carefully down, landing stiffly on the ground.

  His leg must be bothering him. Or he was sore. Probably both.

  She walked over to him. “Is something the matter?”

  He smiled, a not-at-all-tired smile. “Gavin’s taking the last ride for me, and then he’ll drive the wagon home.”

  “Did you tell him about our plans?”

  “Not a word. He’s just giving me a break. It’s been a long two nights.”

  The wagon pulled out at last to a chorus of cheers from its passengers.

  “Do you mind if we take your van?” Ethan asked. “Dad’s going to follow Gavin home in the truck.”

  “Of course not.”

  It wasn’t until they were leaving the parking lot that Caitlin realized Ethan had no way home from her condo unless she drove him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You haven’t been here before?” Caitlin asked.

  “Actually, no.”

  Ethan didn’t intend to gawk at his surroundings, but he couldn’t stop himself. They stood at her front door while she fitted the key in the lock. He was quite certain the dirt road that used to cut through the center of Mustang Valley, the one he, Gavin, their father and the ranch hands had driven on a weekly basis, had been right where he was standing.

  A surreal feeling came over him, as if he’d walked into someone else’s dream.

  “Everything’s changed. So much.”

  “Must be hard on you.” She twisted the knob and pushed open the door.

  “Not as much as when I first came home. I haven’t spent much time in Mustang Village.” Hardly any until meeting Caitlin again.

  They stepped inside her condo, and he was suddenly struck with a case of cold feet.

  He was here at her invitation, which told him she was ready for more. But how much more? He’d hate to jump to the wrong conclusion.

  She flipped a switch, and an overhead lighting fixture illuminated the empty entryway. To their right was a staircase. Directly in front of them, a hallway. To their left, an open archway led to the living room.

  “Public rooms downstairs. Bedrooms and bathroom upstairs.” She laughed. “Though calling the second bedroom a ‘room’ is a stretch. I’ve seen bigger closets.”

  “This is nice.”

  Caitlin removed her jacket and held an arm out for Ethan’s. He gave it to her. “It would be nicer with more furniture.”

  “Would you rather have a house?”

  “Sure, eventually. For right now, this suits me. I don’t have the time to take care of a yard or keep up on the maintenance a house would require.”

  She hung her jacket in the hall closet and draped Ethan’s across the banister.

  Was she planning on him making a fast exit?

  “What about you?” she asked. “Ever think of living anywhere other than the ranch?”

  “The bunkhouse is fine for now. Kind of cramped if I were…”

  “Married with kids?” she finished for him.

  “Something like that.”

  “You’re really good with Cassie and Isa.”

  “Their parents might disagree. They’ve learned a few words from me that aren’t, shall we say, appropriate for young ladies.”

  He followed Caitlin into the living room, which reminded him a little of his bunkhouse. The minimal necessities were there, a couch, a chair, a side table. What was missing were the decorative touches that turned a place into a comfortable home.

  They were quite the pair, the two of them, moving through life, staying in different places but never putting down roots. What were they running away from?

  What were they running to?

  “I didn’t even consider having kids for a long time.” He sat on one end of the couch. “Not while I was in the marines.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  Caitlin had brought the wagon ornament inside with her. She removed it from the box and placed it on the table beside an old lamp Ethan was sure had come from her parents’ house. The ornament looked out of place sitting there all alone. Had he been wrong to get it for her? Maybe she wasn’t ready to stay in one place.

  Stay here with him.

  “What about you? Want kids?”

  “Two for sure. Maybe three,” she added with a shy smile.

  They’d never discussed having children, that Ethan could remember. In fact, they’d rarely discussed anything of a profoundly personal nature. Having fun had been their priority. Perhaps that was why when his mother died he hadn’
t turned to Caitlin and confided in her.

  “Can I get you something?” she asked, a little too brightly. “Coffee? Beer? Eggnog?”

  “Eggnog? I haven’t had that for a long time. My mom used to make it.”

  “I’m afraid the kind I have comes in a carton from the grocery store. I can add a splash of brandy to it if you’d like.” A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes.

  He hadn’t seen that glint since before he’d left for the marines. These days, she was always so serious.

  “I’d like to, but you have to drive me home.”

  “That won’t be for a while.”

  Oh, boy.

  She went to the kitchen. Ethan waited on her couch, his heart chugging like a piston. It was just a cup of eggnog, he told himself. Nothing else.

  But there had been that glint in her eyes…?.

  She returned shortly and handed him a glass of frothy, creamy eggnog filled to the brim. Sitting on the other end of the couch, she kicked off her shoes, tucked her legs beneath her and sipped at her glass.

  Her relaxed pose did nothing to slow the piston inside his chest.

  He tasted his eggnog. “Not bad.”

  They talked after that, about nothing and everything. Gavin and Sage’s wedding plans, old friends—who’d moved where and done what—and some of the more memorable shenanigans they’d pulled as teenagers.

  More than once Caitlin’s eyes misted with sentimental tears. They’d shared so much when they were younger. Ethan couldn’t believe he’d walked away from it. From her.

  After a particularly good laugh, she stretched out her legs on the couch. Her feet, in colorful Christmas socks, were inches from him.

  What would she do if he pulled her feet into his lap?

  “Another one?” Caitlin held up her empty glass.

  “No, thanks.” The eggnog hadn’t been particularly strong, but it was probably better that they refrain from having more. “I should be getting home.”

  The talking had been enjoyable. A good beginning to wherever it was they were heading. Given the choice, he’d move a whole lot faster, but Caitlin was setting the pace, and he was very willing to let her.

  “So soon?” She arched a foot toward him.

  It was a very small movement, one that could easily be misread. He did nothing at first, then she arched it again. This time her toes brushed his thigh, light as a butterfly’s wing.

  What the hell.

  He rested his hand on her ankle. When she didn’t jerk it away, he began kneading her foot, something he’d been aching to do since she’d shed her shoes.

  She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Mmm…that feels good.”

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The smooth expanse of her bare neck cried out for his kisses. Her slightly mussed hair curled sexily around her pink-tinged cheeks.

  His hand moved from her foot to her calf. She made a contented sound as he continued massaging her with firm strokes.

  In another minute, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

  “I really need to go. Or not.” He’d leave the choice to her.

  Caitlin opened her eyes and sat up. Slowly pulling her legs away from him, she set her feet on the floor.

  Disappointment cut through him.

  Perhaps next time there would be a different ending to the evening.

  He braced his hand on the armrest and started to stand.

  She slid across the middle cushion separating them. “Or not,” she stated.

  Ethan sat back down and studied her face, searching for any sign of indecision or distrust. There was none. “Do you know what you’re saying?” Honor dictated he give her one last opportunity to change her mind.

  She linked her arms around his neck, snuggled against him and whispered, “Stay.”

  One word, and a whole world of possibilities opened up.

  CAITLIN MIGHT HAVE QUESTIONED her actions right up until the moment she and Ethan kissed. They weren’t just going to hit rough patches along the way, they were starting out in the middle of a big one.

  But being intimate with him felt right and always had. She loved hearing her name on his lips, repeated over and over between heated kisses.

  His hand, large and strong and warm, slid down her back and under the hem of her shirt to caress bare skin. Her breasts flattened against his broad chest as she wriggled closer…closer…closer. His low exhalation of breath deepened into a groan as he tore his mouth away, to trail more kisses along the column of her neck.

  She’d all but forgotten.

  How could she?

  Her fingers sought the buttons of his shirt, toyed with them, finally succeeded in unfastening the top three. A T-shirt impeded her quest for skin-to-skin contact, and she swore impatiently.

  Ethan shifted beneath her, almost upending her. In one swift, deliberate move he stripped off his shirt and T-shirt, tugging them over his head and tossing them aside.

  “Yes.” She skimmed her palms along his hard muscles, felt them constrict as he sucked in air though his teeth. When she would have explored further, seen what other reactions she could arouse in him, he clasped both her hands between his and held them over his heart.

  “This is no one-night stand. If it is for you, we stop now.”

  “No one-night stand.” She sealed the promise with a kiss that instantly turned explosive.

  The hair-trigger passion they ignited in each other was the same as when they were younger. It was also different. There was a hardness in Ethan she hadn’t seen before, an intensity that was almost unbearable at times.

  She imagined he noticed changes in her, too. The adventurous teenager had all but disappeared, replaced by an overly cautious woman afraid to take risks.

  Except when it came to sex.

  Then, and now, Caitlin had no qualms letting Ethan know what she wanted, with actions and quietly murmured demands.

  Suddenly, he broke off the kiss and set her away from him.

  “What?”

  “Not here.” He caressed her cheek with his fingertips. “Upstairs.”

  She rose from the couch, her body weightless like a bird taking flight, and extended her hand. Ethan took it. She turned, but before she could slip away, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, fitting her back to his front. His erection pressed into her as his lips nibbled the sensitive flesh where her neck joined her shoulder.

  “So long,” she murmured. “We waited so long.”

  He groaned in agreement.

  She craved more but was loath to leave the warmth of his arms. Her burning need won out, and she led him to the stairs. As they climbed single file, she sensed his gaze on her and purposefully didn’t hurry, even when they reached her bedroom. Inside the door sat a dresser with a small lamp. She turned it on. Light bathed the room in a warm yellow glow.

  Ethan went to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. When she went to sit beside him, he tugged her between his open legs. Resting his hands on her waist, he laid his head on her chest.

  “There’s been no one for a long time.” She couldn’t explain her need to reveal such personal information.

  “For me, either.”

  She brushed a fallen lock of black hair from his face. Leaning down, she kissed him again, holding his face in her palms as she ran her lips over his. He sat very still, hardly breathing.

  “Touch me,” she whispered.

  He covered her breasts with his hands, squeezing them through the sweater she wore.

  Waves of pleasure cascaded over her, and she tugged frantically at her clothes.

  “Let me,” he insisted, his voice a husky growl.

  Who was she to object? She lifted her arms so he could remove her sweater. Her bra came next.

  Filling his hands with her breasts, he ran his thumbs over her nipples until they hardened to tight peaks. It wasn’t enough. At her urging, he leaned forward and drew one nipple into his mouth, then the other.

  Her eyes drif
ted shut; her knees buckled slightly.

  “Sweet. So sweet,” Ethan murmured.

  His mouth didn’t stop there. It moved to other erogenous zones. The ridge of her collarbone. The valley between her breasts. Her navel.

  She was wearing way too many clothes, Caitlin thought, and reached for the clasp on her jeans.

  “I have protection,” he said.

  “Good.”

  He sat forward, removed his wallet from his pants pocket. “I’m only carrying this because—”

  “I don’t care why.” She stroked his jaw. “I’m just glad you have it.”

  “Me, too.”

  She shimmied out of her jeans and panties, liking that he watched her every move with hungry eyes. Naked at last, she stood in front of him.

  “You’re incredibly beautiful.” His gaze traveled from her toes to her face.

  “Your turn.”

  Pushing himself off the bed, he attacked his belt buckle. When the clasp and zipper on his jeans defeated him, she came to his aid. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, he slid his pants down. This time there were no shirttails to cover him, and Caitlin very much liked what she saw.

  He sat back down, extending his left leg.

  She knelt in front of him and removed his right boot. Then she grabbed his prosthesis by the ankle.

  “Caitlin, sweetheart.”

  “Let me. I don’t want there to be any barriers between us.”

  After a long moment, he swallowed and nodded. Once he’d loosened the cuff, she pulled gently. The prosthesis came off, sliding out of his pant leg. Giving it only the briefest of glances, she set it on the floor near the dresser.

  Ethan removed his jeans, and she rested her hands on his thighs. Tenderly, she ran her fingers over his stump which began a few inches below his knee. He flinched once before relaxing as her gentle caresses continued over skin that was rough and riddled with scars in some places, and surprisingly smooth in others.

  Caitlin’s throat closed, and she swallowed a sob. In her mind, she could see him lying in some Middle Eastern street, buried in a pile of rubble, broken and bleeding. “This must have hurt.”

  “It still does some days.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He tucked a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. “Don’t be. I’m one of the lucky ones.”