A Cowboy's Holiday (The McGavin Brothers Book 12)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Chapter Ten

  Well, wasn’t this a recipe for disaster. Taryn ate the most amazing French toast of her life seated next to the virile cowboy who’d made it. A sexual buzz laced with a sugar high put her in a very precarious position.

  Pete tempted her on an elemental level that her logical mind resisted and her body craved. A man who could make French toast this amazing had to be a very sensual person.

  The evidence was clear tonight, but the signs had been there all along—the way he stroked Honey Butter’s golden coat, the pleasure he took in spreading fresh-smelling straw in each stall, his comment about the softness of the blanket they’d put on the bed yesterday…

  The bed incident should have clued her in, but it had taken this melt-in-your-mouth taste extravaganza to deliver the message in flashing neon. Chances were excellent that his sensuality would carry over into lovemaking. He would leave no inch of her body unexplored in a celebration of touch, taste and visual delight. He would breathe her in and relish her cries.

  The longer she sat inches away from him the more she wanted him to do all of that. ASAP. Time to come up with a topic of conversation that wouldn’t make her current agitation any worse. “Did you check the weather report for tomorrow?”

  “No, can’t say I did. And I left my phone in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll get mine.” She nudged the table aside just enough to escape the confining space. That was part of the problem, being so close to his stimulating self. She headed down the hall toward her bedroom where she’d left her phone.

  As she picked it up, she glanced at her king-sized bed. Now there was a telling purchase. Although she wasn’t looking for a sexual partner, she’d bought a king instead of a double or queen. Clearly she’d expected to share it with someone eventually. Just not the man currently ensconced on her sofa.

  She carried her phone back to the living room and remained standing while she opened the weather app. “Tomorrow’s predicted to be about the same as today. No precipitation, very little wind. Should be fine for what we want to do.”

  “Good to know.”

  Setting her phone on the coffee table, she glanced at the fireplace. Another welcome distraction. “The fire needs—”

  “Let me.” He carefully moved the table and stood. “I’m finished.”

  “All right. Thanks.” She sat down and he moved the table back into place. With him available to lift furniture, wheels were superfluous.

  “Do you want me to put on another log?”

  “Better not. After I finish this I’ll be ready for bed.” Whoops.

  “Me, too.”

  She paused, the fork halfway to her mouth.

  “But I’ll help you clean up before I go.” He moved the screen and picked up the tongs.

  “You cooked. I’ll clean up.” She went back to eating.

  “Not the way I operate.” After rearranging the chunks of blackened wood and coaxing the fire to life, he replaced the screen and turned back with a smile. “Unless you’re trying to get rid of me.”

  She choked on her last bite of French toast.

  “Uh-oh.” He hurried over, moved the table and sat down. Then he rubbed her back. “You okay?”

  She nodded, grabbed her napkin and coughed violently until the bit of food was dislodged and she could breathe normally again.

  “Guess I hit a nerve.” He continued to stroke her back. “Were you trying to get rid of me?”

  She crumpled her napkin into a ball in her lap and cleared her throat. “In a way.” She glanced at him. “But not because I don’t want you here.”

  The mild concern in his eyes was replaced by simmering heat. “Then you do want me here?”

  She didn’t answer.

  His gaze searched hers. “I’ll go.” He leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers in a slow, gentle kiss.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the restrained passion in the light press of his lips. He knew. And he wouldn’t take advantage of knowing.

  He drew back. “Goodnight, Taryn.”

  She opened her eyes. He wouldn’t take advantage, but his tender expression made it clear—one word from her and he’d stay. She swallowed. “Goodnight, Pete.”

  He smiled and inclined his head in silent acknowledgment. Then he stood, fetched his coat and hat from the hooks by the door, and let himself out.

  * * *

  Taryn slept well, and oh, the dreams. She longed to snuggle in her warm bed and replay them. Dreams were harmless, right? But she’d set her alarm so that she’d have plenty of time to feed the horses and turn them out before Pete arrived with the bucket truck.

  After a quick breakfast eaten in the living room and illuminated by the glow of the Christmas tree, she bundled up. That first step into a Montana December morning was always the toughest. Stepping out on the porch, she put her hand on the master switch Pete had installed yesterday. “Let there be light!”

  She flipped the switch. Twinkling lights on the porch and in the yard banished the darkness and flooded her with happiness. Hugging herself against the cold, she admired the display. She and Pete had done a terrific job and the pictures for her website would be beautiful.

  Pete. What was she going to do about him? No point in pretending that she didn’t want him even if she shouldn’t want him. Clearly he’d be all in if she decided to go for it.

  Then again, he was a guy. In her experience, they followed their animal instincts, aka the demands of Mr. Happy, and worried about the fallout later. She couldn’t afford to do that.

  In the days of knights in shining armor, they pledged their devotion to a woman but were content with a chaste relationship. At least that’s what she’d been told. The reality might have been different. Knights might have climbed onto balconies and spent hours in their lady’s bed.

  Hours. Pete was strong and healthy. He’d have stamina. She gulped. Time to feed those critters.

  Once she was inside the barn, she activated the lights along the roofline and the lighted wreath hung over the double door. Then she turned on another switch and the stalls were bathed in a warm glow.

  The horses snorted and stomped as they roused themselves from sleep. She was here earlier than they were used to. “Rise and shine, gentlemen! It’s a big day for Crimson Clouds Guest Ranch. You might even get your picture taken!”

  Heads poked over stall doors—one a deep butterscotch with white mane and blaze, one a dappled gray with a dark gray mane that was a thing of beauty, and four who were just…brown. She’d learned to differentiate them after a week or so. She loved these six animals more than the ranch itself, and that was saying a lot.

  Pulling on her work gloves, she filled the wheel barrow with hay flakes from the supply in a vacant stall. Then she started down the barn aisle delivering food, passing out loving words and bestowing friendly pats to Honey Butter, Fifty Shades, Marley, Buster, Spike and Junior.

  They responded with nickers of welcome and soft head butts. They loved her, too. When she was in the barn with this crew, she basked in their good will. The sheer bulk of them was solid and comforting. Riding them had become a treat now that she’d developed some skill.

  Her parents had favored small cuddly dogs as suitable family pets for their urban lifestyle and frequent travel plans. She’d enjoyed the heck out of those fluff balls, but given a choice, she’d take a horse.

  As each one finished his breakfast, she led him out of the barn and turned him loose in the pasture. The sky had brightened to the color of vintage pearls by the time she took out the last horse. She had stalls to muck out, but she paused to lean against the fence as they cavorted in the pale light.

  Not much could match the beauty of a horse in motion, muscles undulating, mane and tail rippling in the breeze.

  The rumble of a truck’s motor shifted her heart into high gear. Pete. She turned as he parked the truck, climbed out and walked toward her. Okay, that man rivaled the beauty of the horses.

  His smile lit up the morning and h
is purposeful stride made her tingle with awareness. The time apart hadn’t lessened his impact on her. If anything, it was stronger.

  She gave him a nonchalant hi, there.

  “Hi, yourself.” His breath created puffs of fog in the cold air. “I see you turned on the lights.”

  “Couldn’t resist.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want them on a timer?”

  “I’m sure. The ones on the trees, definitely on a timer. I won’t be trudging out there to turn them off and on. But I like being able to decide when I want the others on. Like this morning. I didn’t need them. I just wanted the effect.”

  “They were real pretty when I drove in. A festive way to start the day.” He nudged back his hat. “Yours must have started earlier than mine.”

  “I thought we should get a jump on morning chores so we’d have maximum time with the bucket truck. All that’s left is cleaning out the stalls.” She kept her tone friendly but businesslike.

  “Then let’s get to it.”

  And that was that. No reason to reference last night’s kiss or acknowledge a change in the status quo. Just move on. She headed for the barn. “Marley’s not favoring his right front foot anymore.”

  He fell into step beside her. “That’s good news. Did everybody else check out?”

  “Yep. They’re all looking healthy and happy.”

  “That’s what we want.”

  Once they were in the barn, they slid right into their established routine, stripping off their coats and each grabbing gloves, a wheelbarrow and a rake. Pete always started with the last occupied stall and worked toward the front.

  She began at the front with the optimistic goal of meeting him in the middle. It hadn’t happened yet. He always cleaned four stalls to her two.

  Not today. She was mucking out her third stall by the time he showed up ready to do it.

  He chuckled. “Brought your A game, I see.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and grinned at him. “Or maybe you’re slowing down.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Maybe I no longer have something to prove.”

  “Are you implying that I do?”

  “If the boot fits…”

  She shrugged. “It’s not a competition. My ego’s not tied up in finishing this stall.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Absolutely.” She walked into the aisle. “Be my guest. Rake away.”

  “Thanks. My ego’s totally tied up in this.” He flashed her a smile and got to work.

  Chapter Eleven

  Joking around was one of Pete’s favorite methods for releasing tension. Physical work was another, which was why he was delighted to finish Taryn’s job on that last stall. He could have done ten more.

  Funny thing was, she’d guessed right. He’d slowed down this morning. More than once he’d caught himself staring into space, Taryn on his mind. He wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  Stringing those tree lights was next on the agenda and he’d invited her to take a ride with him in the bucket. He’d reserved a double bucket so he could follow through on that invite. Close quarters, nevertheless, and last night’s kiss was driving him nucking futs.

  After they’d gathered all the packages of large white lights and loaded them in a storage compartment in the back of the truck, he helped her into the passenger side of the cab and off they went. She was super excited. Although she wasn’t literally bouncing on the seat, she looked as if she’d like to.

  He drove slowly over the frozen ground to the grove of trees. “I didn’t ask if you want to go for a short ride and be done, or if you want to stay up there with me and help me string lights.”

  “Could I help?”

  “If you have the time. I wasn’t clear on how much more you need to accomplish before Caitlin gets here.”

  “Mostly some inside decorations. I was also thinking of making evergreen swags to hang on each of the stall doors so she could shoot inside the barn, too.”

  “That’s a great idea. So maybe you only want a short ride in the bucket so you can go back and work on those things.”

  “Actually, I’d love to stay up there and help you string the lights. It sounds like fun.”

  “It is fun. Glad to have you.” He might as well get used to this persistent ache when she was around. Evidently she didn’t want to take the relationship further and he was here for the duration. Stalemate.

  “I supervised holiday decorations at the hotel I managed, but I didn’t dive in and help make it happen, either putting up or taking down. We didn’t talk about when we’d do the second part.”

  “I made a command decision and reserved the truck for January seventh. That’s when Dad and I took ours down at the Lazy S, weather permitting, but I can change it if—”

  “That’s good. The day after Epiphany. That’s when my folks took stuff down, too.”

  “I also wondered if you’d like me to go ahead and reserve the truck for next year. I could handle that when I take it back today.”

  “Absolutely. I want to make this a tradition, except we can start earlier, like maybe the end of November.”

  “And add more lights?”

  She laughed. “You know me too well.”

  Not nearly well enough. “Then I’ll make a reservation for next year.” He parked parallel to the trees. “You wanted the lights on these three, right?”

  “Yep. It’ll look better lighting three together instead of doing alternate ones.”

  “Got it. Ready to do this thing?”

  “I’m so ready.”

  He grabbed his hard hat from the dash and handed the other one to her. “Better get this on.” He exited the truck and went around to help her down. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. She would love it.

  And there was something about a pretty woman in a hard hat. “That’s a good look on you. Very badass.”

  “I know!” She zipped up her parka. “I feel like I should be singing Wichita Lineman.”

  “Trust me, you’ll never be mistaken for a lineman.”

  “Thanks for that. I’m loving the hard hat, though. I think I was a construction worker in another life.” She gazed at him. “Do I have it on backwards?”

  “No. Why?”

  “You’re staring at me and grinning. I thought I might have it on wrong.”

  “It’s on right. It’s also very cute. Makes me smile.” He pulled on his gloves. “Let me grab the blocks for the wheels.” Once he’d made sure the truck was stable, he helped her climb onto the truck bed and into the bucket. Then he opened the storage compartment and started handing her boxes of lights. “Just stack them in the middle.”

  “Okay.”

  His considerable experience stringing holiday lights at the Lazy S with his dad was coming in handy. Creating that display had been one of his favorite jobs and he was glad Taryn had decided to do this. If his chest was a little tight at the prospect of spending time with her in the cozy bucket, oh, well. He’d live.

  “Last one.” He handed her the final box of lights and joined her in the bucket. “We’ll start from the bottom. And here we go.” The morning was quiet except for the soft purr of the crane’s motor as he maneuvered the bucket away from the truck and toward the first tree.

  “This is awesome.” Taryn gripped the side of the bucket, her expression animated. “Almost makes me want to switch occupations and become a lineman, after all.”

  “It’s all fun and games until you’re handling high-voltage wires.”

  “Yeah, there’s that. Maybe I’ll just stick with helping you string lights in pine trees.” She opened the first box and took out the strand of lights. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

  “Almost.” He positioned the bucket next to the covered outlet he’d attached high on the trunk yesterday, along with a timer that he’d already programmed. “Okay. First strand, starting with the male plug.”

  “I figured as much.” She handed over the end of the cord and fed him the
strand slowly as he maneuvered the bucket. “I always wondered how it came to be called that.”

  He plugged the lights into the timer and began looping the cord over the branches. “I’d say it’s obvious.”

  “Of course it is, but is it necessary? We don’t call a bolt male and a nut female.”

  “Actually, sometimes construction folks do designate them that way. Same with pipe fittings.” He raised the bucket and started back across the front branches of the tree.

  “Again, why is it necessary? Why not just use Part A and Part B instead of using sexual references?”

  “Not as descriptive. Using A and B won’t tell the same story. Whereas this labeling method tells you exactly, I’d even say elegantly, what to expect. If you insert male prongs into a female receptacle, electricity flows.” And in his determination to make his point, he’d turned himself on. Nice going, Sawyer.

  “Guess so.” She took a deep breath.

  And he’d turned her on, too, judging by all the air she’d sucked in just now. “Didn’t mean to get so explicit.”

  “I’m the one who asked.”

  “You happened to hit on a subject dear to my heart. I love the designation. I wish everything in life could be as straightforward and easy to understand as electrical plugs.” He took the controls and raised the bucket a little more. “We must be about to the end of this strand.”

  “We are. Just hang out for a minute while I open another box.”

  “Glad to. It’s nice up here.” The shrill cry of a red-tailed hawk caught his attention. It circled overhead and was soon joined by another, slightly smaller one.

  “The next strand’s ready to go.”

  “Thanks.” He moved the bucket and kept going. “I’ll bet that’s a mated pair of hawks circling above us. I saw them yesterday when I was working out here.”

  “Are we disturbing them?”

  “If we are, it’s just temporary. Assuming they’ve been living this close to the house and the barn all along, they can’t be too upset seeing us out here. Anyway, we’ll be gone soon and they’ll have their favorite perches back.”