12-Alarm Cowboys

by Cora Seton

  She raised her hand to her chest as her heart raced. “You mean she’s mine.”

  “Only if you want her.” Cole’s look turned guarded and her heart ached for him. How many people had turned away his imperfect horses?

  “That’s the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

  His whole body relaxed as he grinned. “I knew you’d like her.” He looked over her shoulder. “And it looks like she likes you, or at least your hair.”

  Lacey tried to turn around, but Angel had her braid between her teeth.

  “Here let me.” Cole walked over slowly, talking to Angel the whole time, finally coaxing her to let go. “There you go. I’m so proud of you.”

  She linked her arm around his waist. “I’m proud of you too. What you do here is amazing.” She glanced up at him. “Are you going to miss the horses when Wade picks them up tomorrow?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, but I know they are going to a good home and it’s one I plan to visit often.”

  “Not as a guest I hope.” She squeezed him harder as they walked toward the house.

  He chuckled, the vibration sending happiness through her.

  “No, not as a guest. I don’t think my wife will ever let me vacation there.”

  “You’ve got that right, mister.” She laughed as he pretended to be scared. “You didn’t tell me how it went yesterday with you and Sean. Did you manage to scare that fraternity house into toeing the line?”

  Cole’s grin was wide. “Yes, we did. You should have seen the look on their faces when the SWAT team showed up.”

  “Sean got the SWAT team to help too?”

  “Oh yeah. When I say Sean has no tolerance for stupidity, I mean it. That man had every one of those boys shaking in their boots. Then as a bonus, he arrested four for possession, three for having stolen property, and one for underage drinking. Then he told them he would send an undercover cop to the school to keep an eye on them.”

  Lacey stopped and Cole looked down. “What?”

  “He’s really sending an undercover in?”

  “No.” Cole shook his head. “But they don’t know that. They’ll be trying to figure out who it is for at least the rest of the year.”

  “Wow, remind me not to do anything stupid around that man.”

  He grinned. “You could never do anything stupid. You are way too smart for that. You’re even too smart for me.”

  “I am not.” She watched as his gaze moved over her to where his grandfather worked with a horse. She could tell Cole wanted to talk with him. “Why don’t you go help your grandfather while I pack us up our dinner?”

  He stopped and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Thanks. Meet me by Sampson?”

  She nodded and watched as he strode away, his ass stretching the material of his jeans nicely. If she had her way, those jeans wouldn’t be on him long.

  Anxious for them to be on their way, she ran up the steps to the porch, throwing the screen door wide, causing it to bang against the house. “Oops.” She glanced out to see if it had spooked the horse, but it appeared intent on the two men.

  She ran upstairs to Cole’s room and grabbed a blanket from his closet. She hadn’t fully moved in yet. She wanted their house to at least be started before she gave up her casita at Poker Flat. Right now, it was the only place they had complete privacy. She adored his grandparents, but she and Cole needed their own home.

  Besides, the plan was once Billy made it through rehab, he would live in the guest room. It had been the carrot she’d needed to persuade him to get help, and Cole’s willingness to give the man a second chance had proved to her exactly how special he was. Though he said it was Billy’s “last chance”, much like the name of the spread. She’d laughed when Cole’s grandparents had explained the name for the ranch. They figured it was their “last chance” to follow their dream of raising cattle because they were so “old,” but they were barely thirty-one at the time.

  Back downstairs, she packed up a cloth bag with roast beef sandwiches and threw in a couple ice packs to keep the cans of lemonade cold. Then she walked back outside to find Cole waiting for her.

  “You ready?” He took the items from her, securing the blanket to the saddle and pushing the food into a saddle bag. Then he cupped his hand and gave her a boost onto Sampson’s back. As usual, the large horse pranced at having her up there, but Cole quickly mounted behind her.

  In no time, they were riding across the ranch, the setting sun reflecting off the mountains, making them appear on fire with their orange glow. They hadn’t ridden more than twenty minutes before Cole turned Sampson toward a hill in front of the long rise of a mountain. When they reached the top, she found them on a much larger piece of land than she’d expected. From this vantage point, she’d bet they could see the entire ranch, even his grandfather’s house in the distance.

  He pulled Sampson to a halt and dismounted. After helping her down, he pointed to a small creek that ran down the mountainside, though it was dried up this time of year. “This is Last Chance mountain, or at least that’s what my grandfather calls it. And this area here my brother and I named Fire Hill because at sunset you can stand here and see the whole valley turn orange. What do you think about this for our new home? It’s still close enough to the old house in case we’re needed, but far enough away that we can have some privacy.”

  She looked around the little hill dotted with mesquite trees. “I think it’s perfect.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “You’re not just saying that to make me happy, are you?”

  “No. I’m saying that because it is such a lovely spot. Of course, we’ll have to get the road laid in first or the expense of bringing in construction materials will be twice as much. But I’m betting this is a good spot for a well, since it is at the base of a mountain. They’ll probably still have to dig deep. This is Maricopa County after all.”

  “Whoa, we haven’t even decided on the house plans yet and you’re scheduling the infrastructure? You have to understand, Lacey, the money I had saved for this project has been raided a few times for vet bills so it may be awhile.”

  She frowned. “How long are you thinking?”

  He looked over her head, a sure sign he wasn’t comfortable with the conversation. But she had to know. Their finances would be tied together once they married.

  “Maybe three or four years.”

  She shook her head. “Nope, I’m thinking a year tops.”

  “Lacey, you know I’d love to, but if I did that I’d have to turn away any—”

  She pulled out of his arms. “Cole Hatcher, are we getting married or not?”

  “Well, yes, but what does that have to do with our house?”

  She sighed. “Everything. I know you’re a cowboy and think you have to handle everything, but I’m an accountant. I’m not only good with numbers, I’m good with money.”

  “What are you saying?” His whole body tensed as if he expected her to knock him down.

  “What I’m saying is that as Lacey Hatcher, my money will be added to your money and we will have enough to start building as soon as we decide on a design.”

  He stood rock still and her stomach tightened. Would he pull some macho bull poop over using her money? When he finally met her gaze, his grin was sheepish. “Do you think as my wife you could also work for no pay and take care of the books for Last Chance Ranch? I never was too good at math.”

  “Really?” She’d been itching to get her hands on them, sure she could help him make more money than he had been.

  He took two steps to bring him directly in front of her. “I know you now. I know what you can do. I don’t just trust you with my heart but with everything I own. I’ve always needed you. You fill in all my weak spots and hopefully, I fill in all yours. I want our marriage to be like our lovemaking, equal on all counts, completing each other.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Satisfying.”

  He ran his hands along her waist, across the sides of h
er breasts and up her arms. “Hot.”

  She stepped back. “Flaming hot.” Slowly, she undid her button-down shirt and threw it over a mesquite branch. The pretty lavender bra she wore supported her breasts, but had a large hole in each cup where her areola and nipple were visible.

  The air whistled out from between his teeth as he stared at her. “Shit, Lacey, that’s beyond hot.”

  At his words her nipples hardened, making them stand out ahead of her pretty lingerie. “I want to see you too.”

  Faster than a scorpion could strike, Cole had whipped off his t-shirt, his muscles tensing as his gaze riveted to her. Her hands itched to feel the hard planes of his chest again. The man’s torso had more crevices and outcroppings than the mountain next to them.

  Her folds moistened in anticipation of his gaze when she revealed what she wore below. Hooking her fingers in the waistband of her skirt, she pushed it down, stepping out of it and hanging it on another branch.

  When she turned back, he was staring at her lavender panties. These too had a strategic hole. It revealed her small patch of blonde curls.

  Cole growled as he unzipped his jeans and let out his hard cock.

  In the next instant, he pulled her against him.

  “Wrap your hands around my neck.” It wasn’t a request.

  She did as told and shivered as her bare nipples pressed against his chest. Then he bent his knees and the tip of his erection found the lacy slit of her panties.

  “I can’t wait.” His voice was strained. “I promise we’ll go slow next time.”

  His words sent a thrill racing down her spine a second before he speared into her and raised her as he stood.

  She gasped as her body lighted with fire and she wrapped her legs around him.

  “Look at me.” His words were gruff.

  She raised her face to him, expecting a kiss.

  Instead he gazed into her eyes. “I promise, I’ll always believe you, always love you. You’re my perfect match.”

  She quirked her mouth. “As long as I light your fire, I’ll be happy.”

  His lips came down on hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. Then he moved his hips, fanning her fire, burning her up, like only he could.

  The End

  Pleasures of Christmas Past

  A Christmas Carol: Book 1

  Coming November 2015

  Though Jessica Thomas is thrilled to land the job of novice Spirit Guide, she’s been assigned a hot, arrogant Scottish mentor who confuses her heart. But what should concern her more is, will he protect her soul?

  Available for order here

  Cowboy’s Best Shot

  Poker Flat Series: Book 3

  Coming April 2016

  A cowboy who has lost so much. A woman who never had it to begin with.

  Is this their best shot for happiness?

  For updates, sneak peeks, and special prizes, sign up to receive the latest news from Lexi at http://eepurl.com/D3MqT

  Also by Lexi Post

  Masque

  Passion’s Poison

  Passion of Sleepy Hollow

  Cruise into Eden (The Eden Series: Book 1)

  Unexpected Eden (The Eden Series: Book 2)

  Cowboys Never Fold (Poker Flat Series: Book 1)

  Read on for a preview of Pleasures of Christmas Past.

  Pleasures of Christmas Past

  A Christmas Carol: Book 1

  Chapter One

  Jessica Thomas floated near the ceiling of the small Christmas ornament shop, anxiously waiting to find out who would be her mentor on this, her first case as a spirit guide. She had no idea what it would entail, which irritated her a little. When she was alive, she’d been an excellent social worker because she read the case file before meeting the client. The spirit guide position was very difficult to obtain, but her past expertise had helped her land the job and she was anxious to prove she deserved it. Having the file would assist her with that.

  She scanned the shop, liking the feel of the place. It was cozy, with ornaments everywhere in every conceivable shape and size. With just three days until Christmas, the shop was full of people, all with lovely Scottish accents. She’d never been to Scotland while alive, though she’d always wanted to go. She’d just been too busy to take a vacation for any length of time.

  As far as time went, her mentor was late, or at least it seemed like it. There was no time in the afterlife, a fact that had thrown her completely off balance at first, but she was learning to cope…somewhat. Maybe her mentor was still in class answering questions. One of the many instructors from the intensive training she’d gone through would be her mentor on this first assignment. She really liked old Archibald. He was an American from the 1880s. Mrs. Ferrisletter, from 1662 London, was very sweet and would be a lovely mentor. Jessica crossed her fingers. As long as she didn’t get Dr. Marley, she’d be happy. That man could put a saint into a depression.

  “So are you ready for your first case?” The lilt of a heavy Scottish accent behind her caused her to turn.

  Duncan Montgomerie floated there, not close enough to be touching, but near enough she caught the whiff of pine that was so much a part of him.

  Oh no, not him. The man was the hottest instructor she’d had and even now she couldn’t remember a word he’d said. She’d been too busy having her libido stroked by his voice while her eyes feasted on his rugged looks and ripped body. He’d never told them what timeframe he was from, but his accent gave him away as Scottish and some of his vocabulary made her think it might be centuries back, even though he dressed in modern-day clothes.

  Nervousness tamped down her excitement. There was no way she’d be able to concentrate on this assignment with him around. She was bound to screw something up.

  “Jessica?” His blue eyes sparkled with an unearthly light as one brow rose. “Are you with me, lass?”

  “Yes, of course.” She tried not to focus on his wavy brown hair that fell to his strong jawline or on his scruffy chin that led the eye to his quirking lips.

  His arm stretched out past her as he pointed below them, revealing his forearm muscle which flexed as he moved his finger. “That’s our case. Mrs. Douglas.”

  Despite the butterflies tickling her stomach as Duncan’s breath passed by her left ear, Jessica snapped her focus to the people below. There were many women in the shop. Mrs. Douglas could be any of them. She leaned away and looked her mentor in the eyes. “What’s her first name?”

  “Huh?”

  Jessica pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “What’s Mrs. Douglas’ first name? To get a client to trust you, you must show an interest in them and knowing the person’s first name is the very tip of the iceberg.”

  Duncan frowned. “I dinna teach you that.”

  She took a deep breath. “No, you didn’t. It’s part of the experience I bring to the job. Do you know her first name?”

  He shook his head, clearly perplexed by her request.

  “How long have you been a spirit guide?” It was really none of her business, but she wanted to be sure her mentor was, in fact, more experienced than she was.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders, drawing her focus back to his build.

  “Since we have no time in the afterlife, I can’t tell you how long I’ve done this, but I can assure you it is no’ my first case.” He pulled the neck of his t-shirt away from his skin, as if it were too tight.

  As far as she was concerned, the entire shirt was too tight with the way it molded to his chest muscles, showing a significant valley down the middle. Hell, if he just wanted to take the whole thing off, she certainly wouldn’t complain.

  “Holly.” Duncan grinned and her insides turned to melting ice cream.

  So why did he point out Holly? It was Christmas. There was holly everywhere…and mistletoe. Oh, maybe she could find some mistletoe and Mr. Distraction here could catch the hint and kiss her.

  “Holly is her first name.” Duncan nodded to confirm his stat
ement. “It’s also what that older woman down there just called her.”

  Her? Oh right, the case. Jessica forced her gaze from Duncan and looked below. “Which one is she?”

  “She’s the owner of the shop. The one with the shoulder-length brown hair and red Christmas hat on.”

  Jessica forced herself to focus on the woman. Her straight hair was a very deep brown, like dark chocolate, and she had a round face with an adorable smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. There was a quiet sorrow about the friendly shop owner. She looked perhaps thirty years old, max. What could have caused such a poignant hurt in one so young? “She definitely has the Christmas spirit. Why does she need us?”

  Duncan chuckled, a warm sound that sent pleasure from her heart to her fingertips and everywhere in between. “No’ every case is about some old Scrooge character. Each person we’re assigned needs something different, but it has to be very important for them. Cameron, he’ll be our supervisor on this assignment, received special permission for us to tackle this.”

  “Cameron?” She couldn’t resist looking at him again and was surprised to see him frown, an unusual occurrence for him.

  “Cameron Douglas is, excuse me, was her husband. There is a strict rule about handling personal cases, but I guess Cameron made a good argument with the boss.”

  Even frowning, Duncan was gorgeous. His cheekbones were strong, but his nose did have a slight bump that kept him from being entirely perfect. Genetics? Or was that from an injury? She could see him modeling for a highland wool sweater catalog, looking scrumptious in a white turtleneck and tartan kilt. Oh. Just the idea of seeing this man in a kilt had her body flushing. What did they say about what a man wore under—

  “Jessica? Are you listening?”

  “What?” Oh no. She was afraid of this. “Sorry, my mind drifted. What were you saying?”

  He studied her for a moment before explaining. “I said, we, or rather you officially, are one of three ghosts that will visit Mrs. Douglas. Your goal is to remind her of the happy times before she lost her husband. Cameron’s wife is no’ truly living, just going through the motions.”