How the Devlin Stole Christmas: A Billionaire Cowboy Prequel ~ Those Devilish Devlins

by Kilraine, Lee

  “All fixed.” He slammed the hood down and huffed out a breath. “Now…get the hell off my property.”

  I checked my pockets. “Dang, I must have misplaced my keys in your house. Or your ghost stole them.”

  “Jesus, Max.”

  “Would I lie to you?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “Fine. Go ahead.” I opened my coat wide. “Frisk me, cowboy.”

  3

  Locke

  Frisk her? My hands had been burning to run over her hips and around her ass since she’d taken off her coat, but I knew that way only spelled trouble. Temptation. A temptation I might not be able to fight.

  Pull her in. Hold her close. Feel her heat. Never let her go.

  She grinned up at me like she knew what the devil on my shoulder whispered.

  “Not necessary,” I growled, flicking my gaze down her sweater and back up. Her sweater was too tight to hide anything, let alone a set of keys. It definitely didn’t hide her luscious curves or the fact that she was cold. “Let’s go look and see where you ‘misplaced’ them.”

  I spun around, grabbing the sleeve of her coat, dragging her along with me back inside. The quicker I got her out of here, the quicker I could reset my compass. The damn thing always pointed to Max whenever she was near. She’d been my true north for so long, I’d felt lost without her the first few years.

  “You sound like you don’t believe me,” she said, aiming her gorgeous blue eyes my way with a grin. “Don’t you remember how forgetful I was back in the day? Remember the time I forgot where I was standing and backed right into the horse trough?”

  Oh, hell yes, I remembered. That was the day everything changed between us. Logan, Liam and I had laughed our asses off as Max came up sputtering and cussing. Until she stood up. That was the moment she went from being just one of the guys to a girl. She may have been all lean muscles but when she’d come out of the trough dripping wet—her flannel shirt and Wranglers hugging her body—it was impossible not to see she wasn’t as lean as she used to be. Nothing was the same after that day.

  “And the time I forgot I had the water running in the kitchen sink. For six hours.”

  I bit back a grin as I started my search in the kitchen. I surely did remember that. It had been hilarious to watch Max frantically sloshing around, madly scooping buckets of water out the window before her grandma or dad got home.

  “Or the time I forgot to wear shoes to school?”

  Liam, Logan, and I had taken turns piggy-backing her around to classes until her dad arrived with her boots.

  “All the times I forgot my lunch, so I had to snitch food from you and your brothers.”

  “That wasn’t forgetfulness,” I said, lifting the cake box to look inside before moving on to the drawers in the kitchen island. “You overslept and never had time to make a lunch.”

  “True,” she agreed, an “I-told-you-so” grin on her face. “Because I forgot to set my alarm.”

  “So, you’ve always been forgetful. That doesn’t mean you didn’t hide the keys.” I leveled a pointed look at her. “Because you’ve always been sneaky too.”

  “Me? I’m the epitome of innocence.” She didn’t even have the grace to look guilty as she said that.

  But we both knew between her showing up with the cake, her sexy clothes, and the disconnected battery, Max was up to something. Which meant trouble for me. Max the tomboy had had me wrapped around her little pinkie finger. I’d have done anything for that girl. I had done everything I could for her—even when it gutted me.

  Standing here now—three years later—Max the sexy woman had the power to bring me to my knees. I needed to make damn sure she didn’t know that. The quicker I got her out of my house—the better for both of us.

  A gust of wind rattled the windows, a reminder of the storm moving in. I needed her gone and safely back at the O’Conner Ranch before the worst hit.

  “Come on, keep looking.” I redoubled my efforts, looking inside the bread box on the counter and behind the row of potted herbs next to the sink. The sudden quiet had me glancing over my shoulder at Max, but she wasn’t there.

  Following the fresh clover scent of her—she’d never gone for flowery perfumes—I found her in my bedroom. She stood frozen in place, staring at my bed.

  My gaze followed her hand as she reached out and ran it along the smooth mahogany footboard. Every muscle in my body—every muscle—tensed and air stagnated in my chest. The memories of her hands running over my body held me as captive as a hand around my throat.

  I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t go there. I needed to get her back to a safe distance. Where I didn’t have to smell her or look into her sky-blue eyes. Or crave the touch of her skin against mine.

  “What are you doing in here?” My voice came out rough. It was imperative I got Max out of my bedroom and out of my house.

  Out of my life.

  4

  Max

  “What am I doing in here? I’m…um, I’m…” Something about being in Locke’s bedroom felt like walking into a brick wall. It was disorienting. Three years after Locke’s rejection, lost for so long in confusion, pain, and anger, I thought I’d cried all the tears. Sunk down as low as a woman could go. Turned out I was wrong. “I’m looking for the keys.”

  “You didn’t come in this room.”

  “No. You’re right.” It felt like I was falling. Pretty sure I hit bottom right in this moment. How many women had he invited into this room? Into his big bed? I felt gutted. Rejected all over again. Loneliness scooped out my insides. “You’re absolutely right. I never did.”

  Not today. Not ever.

  “It’s an amazing bed.” It had been a mistake to enter his bedroom, but the pull had been too strong. Once again, my jump-in-heart-first technique had just bit me on the behind. “It’s huge.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m a big guy.”

  “Right.” Gazing up at him now, it was clear he had grown a couple more inches over the six-foot-two he’d been the last time I’d seen him. Like a glutton for punishment, I ran a hand lightly over the dark green plaid blanket. My gaze ran along the carved mahogany headboard, solid, sturdy, and beautiful. “It’s a far cry from a wool blanket in the hay loft.”

  My gaze met Locke’s and the silence drew out between us. For the first time since I’d knocked on his door there was something burning in his eyes, only I wasn’t sure what. Regret? Did he regret what happened like he said? Was he sorry he ever made love to me? Or did he regret leaving me in the dark of night and disappearing from my life for good?

  “Come on, Max. This storm isn’t a joke.” He steered me out of his room and back into the kitchen. “Keep looking. Maybe think real hard about where you might have…set them down.”

  That moment in his bedroom had been like a sharp pin in a balloon. Was I wasting my time? My common sense and pride voted to dig the keys out from where I’d stashed them and get as far away from him as I could. But my heart was stubbornly resisting that idea.

  Locke Devlin had been my first everything.

  First crush.

  First kiss.

  First love.

  First time.

  First heartbreak.

  I tried to walk away. Patch up my heart and move on. But after three years of trying—really trying—I couldn’t. I never did patch up my heart. Because years ago, I’d given my heart to Locke. And he still had it.

  So, I’d stay the course. At the very least, even if he rejected me all over again, the least he owed me was an explanation of what had happened three years ago. But when I looked into his eyes and remembered how much he meant to me—how much we’d meant to each other—my heart wouldn’t let me give up on him yet.

  I marshaled my resolve and went back to pretending to look through the kitchen for the missing keys. While Locke checked the pockets of the coats on the peg rack in his foyer, I checked his fridge.

  “Hey, neither of us even opened the refrigerator,” he said.
r />   “Hello, you have a ghost. Rose could have put them in here.” I arched an eyebrow his way. “She might have even put them in your underwear drawer. I should go check it.”

  “No, you shouldn’t. And I told you, I don’t have a ghost. Go back to riffling through my fridge.”

  “You know I will.” Yes, I was nosey. You could tell a lot about a guy by what he kept in his fridge. Whoa, Nellie, his fridge was well-stocked. I felt like a smart cavewoman for picking a caveman capable of dragging home a mastodon. We could feast for a week. “Hey, do you have plans for the pear, or can I have it?”

  “What?” A distracted Locke looked up from dumping each of his boots upside down and giving it a shake.

  “The pear? I forgot to eat lunch and I’m hungry,” I said, my stomach growling at the thought of the first juicy bite. “Can I have it?”

  “Sure. But keep looking,” he said, now sticking his fingers into the dirt of a potted lemon tree.

  “Absolutely.” I ate the pear while I finished examining his eating habits. He had fresh salad fixings, vegetables, thick steaks, milk, butter, apples, and some cheese. Good cheese too: Brie, Havarti, and smoked Gouda. Surely I could find some crackers in a cabinet. His freezer looked stocked up with meat and frozen veggies from a garden. Stuffed full of healthy stuff. “Where do you keep the ice cream and frozen peanut butter cups?”

  “I don’t.” He’d moved into the family room, looking behind the couch cushions. He was definitely getting warmer.

  “That’s weird.” I tossed the pear core into the compost tin and washed the sticky juice from my hands. “I remember you having a thing for chocolate.”

  “People change.” He shrugged, but kept his eyes glancing over every surface of the room, still searching. Still anxious to push me out of his life.

  “Hey, how come that line works for you and not me?” I smoothed my hands down my sweater and over my hips, sticking my chest out just enough to catch Locke’s attention. If he was going to play hardball, then so was I. “I tried to tell you that and you practically laughed in my face.”

  “Because you’re you,” he said, only a look of uncertainty settled on his face as his gaze raked over me. “And this is my house, so my rules.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” I joked.

  “Maybe that’s your problem, Max. My brothers and I learned early that life isn’t fair.” His steel-gray eyes bored into mine, not joking at all. “Once you understand that, it’s easier to settle for what life hands you.”

  “I guess that is my problem. Is that what you’ve been doing? Settling? Don’t you have anything in your life worth fighting for?” He jerked his gaze away from mine. I knew life wasn’t fair. I learned that at eight when my mother died after getting thrown from a horse. To my mind, that was all the more reason to fight for more. Hadn’t he had to settle too much already?

  “I spent my first sixteen years fighting for a better life.” His jaw firmed up and his lips pressed into a straight line. “Thanks to your father and grandmother, I’ve got a good life.”

  He deserved a good life from what little I’d gathered about his childhood. Dad and Dodo said it didn’t serve any purpose talking about it. Since Jed O’Conner was well-respected in Devil’s Lap, the Devlin boys’ lives stopped being fodder for the gossip circles once Dad called old lady March out on it. Of course, their adult lives were fair game, and seeing as they were three near-identical sexy, single cowboys—news about them set the gossip chain on fire.

  The Devlin triplets were a hot commodity. Women all over town and even a few surrounding counties would love to bag a Devlin. Young and old. Rich and poor. Single, divorced, and even a few married women. Some would be happy to get them to the altar, but a whole lot would settle for getting them into bed.

  Oh, heck. Was I just as pitiful as all the other women in town wanting a piece of a Devlin brother? No. I wasn’t. Any Devlin brother wouldn’t do. Liam and Logan were like brothers to me. It was only when I was around Locke that I felt the crazy magnetic connection.

  “Okay, Max, I’m done looking.”

  “Yeah, we’ve looked everywhere. Looks like I’m stuck here. I can’t ask daddy to bring me the spare set with this storm moving in.”

  “I agree,” Locke said, his voice smooth and sexy. “I don’t want to disturb your dad on Christmas Eve.”

  I sighed and smiled across at him, anticipating spending the next few hours with Locke.

  “Luckily, we won’t have to.” Locke held the set of keys in the air triumphantly like they were a shiny rodeo buckle. “Because I found them.”

  Dang it.

  5

  Locke

  “I don’t know, Locke. It sounds like it’s sleeting. Maybe I should wait until this blows over.”

  “It’s not sleet. That’s just rain hitting the metal roof.” There was no way in hell I’d send Max out if the roads were unsafe, but being close to her again was harder than I’d imagined. And I’d imagined it would be next to impossible. I entered the kitchen and switched on the small black and white T.V. on the counter, already tuned to the weather, to check the radar. “You’ll be fine. Storm’s still far enough out to see you back safe with time to spare.”

  “Dodo mentioned the town council has already postponed tonight’s Christmas pageant and parade until tomorrow afternoon,” Max said. “On account of the weather.”

  “Figured. The forecast said it was going to get bad.” I nodded toward the door. “Let’s go, Max.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll head out,” she said. “But can I ask you a question first?”

  “Make it quick.”

  “Why do you hate me?”

  Hate her? If only. I turned my head away to stare out the window while I locked down the impulse to pull her into my arms and hang on to her. I dropped my head to my boots, cleared my head like before the first jump out of the shoot on a bronc ride, and tilted my head back to Max.

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “Then help me understand. Please.”

  “Two people can like each other and still not be good for each other.”

  “But—”

  “Max, you’ve got to let it go. What we shared in the past is just that—the past. We’re adults now. Like you said—people change. We’ve both changed. It’s just how life works.”

  If the look on her face was anything to go by, Max wasn’t letting it go. Not a surprise since the way she’d become one of the best horsewomen, sharpshooters, ropers, and ranch hands in west Texas was because of the ferocious way she attacked every part of her life. She’d keep at something long past when most anyone else would have given up. The woman was strong and steadfast. It was a big part of what set her apart from every other woman I knew. I’d always admired that about Max, but knowing it was going to cause us both a whole lot of heartbreak made me wish this was the one time she’d give up and walk away. I’d walked away once, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it a second time.

  “Come on. Let’s get you home safe and sound before it’s too late.” I ushered her back out the front door. The stormy weather had turned the sky a thick gray. Dark clouds marched overhead, lighting up the sky with random flashes of lightning like a laser light show. Strong wind gusts had the line of pine trees next to the house bending, lobbing pine cones down around us like grenades. The branches of the old hickory tree standing guard along the gravel drive swayed and cracked together. “Have Jed call me when you get home.”

  “No,” she said, shaking my hand off her arm so she could stop our forward progress. She turned and looked up at me while she held her unzipped coat together in an attempt to combat the cold wind tearing at us both. “I’ll call you myself.”

  “You don’t have my phone number.” I’d had to change it three years ago. Every time she called and every message she left had been like arrows slicing through my flesh. “Just have Jed call me.”

  “Nope. Not going to do that. You’ll just have to wonder if I made it back safely, I guess.”
She had to yell over the wind, her face damp from the cold drops of rain slicing down on us. Strands of long, sun-streaked hair whipped across her face. “It’s not like you worried about me the last three years, so whatever.”

  Damn it. Out of sight did not mean out of mind with this woman. I’d worried. I’d cared. I’d had my share of jealous moments wondering what guy was lucky enough to share Max’s life.

  “Has anyone told you you’re a pain in the ass?” I pulled my wallet from my back pocket, retrieving a business card I usually handed out when I was looking to take on more work.

  “Other than you? No.” She grinned, holding her hand out. “Unbelievably, most people like having me around.”

  I passed her the card as more thunder rumbled above us. The temperature felt like it was dropping by the second. Then again, it could just be the rain had soaked through my thermal shirt and made it feel colder.

  “Drive safe.” A gust of wind pushed her up against me. I looked into her blue, blue eyes, knowing it would be easy to get lost in them. Too easy. I put some space between us, letting go once I knew she was steady. I backed up a few more steps, hoping to get her on her way. “Call me when you arrive back home. And then feel free to throw away my number.”

  “I always drive safely.”

  Ha!

  “I’ll absolutely call you.”

  That, I was sure of.

  “But throw away your number? Are you afraid of little old me, cowboy?”

  Hell yes, I was.

  Her lips tilted into a soft smile. One I’d missed like hell for too long. I tucked it away for the lonely days ahead.

  “Ya! Get moving,” I said, when she still stood there staring at me. It worked on wild horses, and Max was about the wildest, untamed female I knew.