A Texas Cowboy's Christmas

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Chance curved a comforting hand around her shoulder. “I do,” he admitted solemnly. “And you’re right. I am very protective of him.” And you, too, Chance added silently. Much more than you know.

  Looking as if the Skype meeting had brought out all her worst insecurities, Molly nodded, admitting, “It’s hard not to be protective with little kids. They’re so vulnerable.”

  “True.” Sensing she needed him more than she would admit, he turned to her and pulled her all the way into his arms. “But there’s something very special about Braden.” He stroked a gentle hand through her hair and lifted her face to his. “I felt a connection to him the first time we met.”

  “And he, you,” Molly said, her shoulders tense in a way they hadn’t been before they’d begun talking about Worthington Academy.

  “Did they say anything else?” Chance pressed, wanting to know the whole story.

  “No.” Her casual, self-effacing tone hinted at the vulnerability she felt inside. “It was more a feeling I had.”

  He waited. Guilt that she might have found out what he had done to put her in this position, despite the precautions he had taken to prevent just such a revelation, roiled in his gut.

  Molly shook her head, moving on to the next tray. “Like...” She struggled to put her intuition into words. “They’d been forced to interview him or something.”

  Maybe because they sort of had been.

  He studied her, maintaining a poker face. “They said that?” His temper rose.

  “No. It just...” She put more icing into the piping bag. “What they did say about needing to interview him for the diversity in backgrounds of their student body. I didn’t buy it.”

  “How so?” he asked carefully.

  “Well... I mean, you saw the children in the classes we observed. Even in identical uniforms, you could see they were all privileged kids from wealthy backgrounds. Their haircuts, their perfect body mass indexes, their posture, their demeanor...” She sighed heavily. “These were all kids who were used to being pampered, revered, adored.”

  The same could easily be said about her son, except for coming from money. “Braden has confidence, too,” he pointed out.

  Molly’s face took on the fierce, maternal line he knew so well. “Not the confidence that comes from never having to want for or worry about anything.”

  Money in the bank only went so far. Chance disagreed. “Confidence is confidence.”

  Molly huffed and went to the sink to rinse the icing off her fingers. “You say that because you come from the other side,” she accused him over her shoulder. “The side that had all the advantages. I didn’t.”

  Chance waited until she turned around, then put a hand on either side of her, not touching her but effectively trapping her against the counter just the same. “Do you ever think that’s part of what makes you who and what you are?”

  His challenging tone had her lifting her chin. “And what am I?” she sassed.

  Plenty. “Strong, independent, resilient, savvy, talented, gorgeous...” Watching the color come into her cheeks, he teased, “Shall I go on?”

  She folded one arm against her waist, not touching him, either, and tapped her finger against her lips. “I like that you put my beauty at the end of the list.” She wrinkled her nose playfully. “Such as it is.”

  Enough of her downgrading herself. He pulled her all the way into his arms, pressing her softness against his hardness. “What it is,” he growled, “is amazing. Heart poundingly—” he paused to kiss her deeply “—wonderful.”

  She shook her head at him in silent remonstration. “You can stop now,” she chided, even as her eyes filled with affection. “Compliments are not necessary.”

  Chance sobered. His heart ached for all that was still missing in her life. That could be so easily corrected. “They’re not compliments, darlin’.” He stroked his hand down her cheek and bent to kiss her again, tenderly this time. “They are heartfelt observations.” And what he felt when he looked at her was all heart.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Molly murmured the next afternoon. She stepped out of his shower and wrapped a towel around her.

  Chance shut off the spigot, his body still humming from their last incredible bout of lovemaking. Blotting the dampness from his hair and skin, he hung up his towel and joined her at the mirror. Coming up behind her, he aligned his naked body against hers and planted a kiss on the back of her neck. “Taking a long lunch hour?”

  Molly turned to give him a mischievous glance that swept over him hungrily from head to toe, then ran a brush through her hair, restoring order to her still-damp curls.

  She pivoted to face him. As she pressed against him, he could feel how much she wanted him. If only they had the time...“I can’t believe—” she sent him an alluring glance from beneath her lashes, her nipples pearling beneath the towel “—we’re taking a long lunch hour in your bed.”

  “And shower,” he teased, following her into the bedroom. “I can.” His body humming with resurging need, he watched her bend to pick up her clothes. Not ready to see her leave just yet, he tugged her against him for a sweet, leisurely kiss. “I think that was the best pre-Christmas present I ever had.”

  “Me, too,” Molly murmured, kissing him back even more languidly.

  He threaded his hands through her hair, wishing he didn’t have to worry about rushing her into the next step. “Besides—” he kissed his way down her throat “—with the Circle H ranch house finished...”

  Molly flitted out of his arms with a reluctant sigh, then slipped on her satin burgundy panties and matching bra. Shifting into the business mode he knew so well, she reminded him, “We still have to help decorate the interior for the Open House at the Circle H tomorrow morning. Make sure Sage and her catering staff have everything they need for the evening’s festivities.”

  Noting the pleat of new worry between her brows, he shifted into work gear, too. Pulling on his boxer briefs, then his jeans, he reassured her confidently. “It’s all going to go smoothly. We have Garrett’s wife, Hope, in charge, remember? There’s no crisis my sister-in-law can’t handle. So even if there are problems, and I’m not expecting any, Hope will find solutions for them.”

  “I know.” Molly eased a black turtleneck sweater over her head.

  Chance’s mouth went dry as she shimmied into her jeans. Dressed or undressed, she made him go hard with need. “Garrett and Wyatt have also volunteered to help. In fact, the only family member who won’t be around to support Mom’s entry back into the fund-raising nonprofit world will be Zane.”

  Molly sat down on the edge of his bed to tug on her favorite peacock-blue cowgirl boots. She extended one showgirl-quality leg, then the other. “Your mom mentioned Zane was going to try and get home for Christmas this year.”

  Chance nodded, his worry over his Special Forces brother briefly coming to the fore. “Even if he does make it, and there’s no guarantee of that, it would likely be just in the nick of time, not for the Open House.”

  Molly sobered. “One of the disadvantages of serving in the military, I guess.” Her frown deepened.

  “I don’t think Zane minds. In fact, I’m pretty sure he thrives on all the uncertainty and danger.”

  Molly nodded, her mood becoming even more distant.

  Chance wrapped his hands around her waist and tugged her close. He bent his head to nuzzle the softness of her hair, inhale the sexy fragrance that was uniquely her. “My question is, what’s really bugging you today?” Loving the way she felt in his arms, he kissed his way across her temple. She’d been moody all morning. Which was why he’d suggested their noontime rendezvous rather than try to get an actual date with her that evening. “The only time I’ve had your full attention is when we were making love.”

&
nbsp; She blushed in a way that made her look prettier, more womanly than ever, then admitted wryly, “Listen, cowboy, it’s a little hard to think of anything else when you’re...um...”

  He chuckled, a deep rumbling low in his throat. “I know.” He caressed the slender curve of her hip. “And don’t think you’re going to distract me asking me to show you what other extraordinary skills I have.”

  For a second, she looked just as tempted as he felt.

  “Seriously.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, wanting to help her out if he could. He looked deep into her eyes. “What’s bothering you?”

  Molly balled her hands into fists and blew out a frustrated breath. “If you must know, I don’t have anything appropriate to wear to the Open House.”

  Chance squinted. “I’ve seen your closet, Molly. You’re a clotheshorse.”

  She walked out of his bedroom and down the stairs, leaving him to follow. “Yes, but my clothes aren’t designer duds. Which is why your lovely sister, Sage, volunteered to act as my stylist for the evening and lent me an absolutely gorgeous cocktail dress and the accessories that went with it.”

  He caught up with her in the kitchen. “That was nice of her.”

  Figuring she had to be as hungry as he was, he pulled out the cold cuts and cheeses. Handed her a plate and a loaf of multigrain bread.

  With a sigh, she began assembling a sandwich. “Yes, well, we lamented our wardrobe crises together.”

  He got a plate and did the same. “What has Sage got to worry about?”

  Molly looked in his fridge and brought out the mayo, spicy mustard and leaf lettuce. “Promise you won’t mention it to her?”

  Chance made an X over the center of his chest.

  With a commiserating moue, Molly told him, “She had to have the dress she planned to wear to the gala let out at the seams. Apparently she’s gained a little weight since coming back to Texas and opening her café bakery.”

  Chance shook his head in consternation. If he lived to be a hundred he would never understand why women worried about the shift of a few pounds in either direction.

  He cut his sandwich in half, then went to find the chips. “Hard to see how, since she’s had the stomach flu twice in the past six weeks.”

  Molly took a seat beside him at the island. “I heard she had been under the weather a couple of times.” She picked up a sandwich that was as thin as his was thick. “Anyway, I have to get over there in forty-five minutes to pick up the dress, so as soon as I finish this, I’ve got to run.”

  He poured a couple of glasses of iced tea, not about to let her go before he’d nailed down their next time together. “Will I see you tonight?”

  If she was free, maybe he could talk her into an official date. Even if they had to go all the way to San Angelo to have it, to avoid her fear of being seen together socially.

  “Tomorrow morning. I have to spend the evening completing the pre-enrollment paperwork for Braden’s new preschool in Dallas. They need it before Christmas if he’s going to start there in January.”

  Chance was happy Molly had selected a place other than the high-stress Worthington Academy to put her son. Not so happy it was a good 150 miles away. He forced himself to be supportive anyway. “How does he feel about the move?” Chance asked cheerfully.

  Molly broke a potato chip in two. “I haven’t told him.”

  Chance narrowed his gaze. Molly was usually very up front with her son about what was going to happen next. And what was expected of him.

  Her cheeks turning pink, she explained, “Once I have a rental home picked out to go see and the school set up, we’ll take another trip there. I’ll explain it all then, when I can show him where we are going to live and so on.”

  Disappointment knotted his gut. “So you’re really doing this?”

  She wasn’t surprised he didn’t want to see her go. However, his feelings did not change her mind. “I really am,” she confirmed.

  * * *

  EXCEPT, MOLLY KNEW, as she left Chance and drove away from Bullhaven, she wasn’t nearly as brave as she sounded.

  The truth was the closer she got to actually making the big change, the more she did not really want to do it after all.

  Yet the more rational part of her knew that she couldn’t let last-minute jitters affect putting what had been a years-long plan for her and Braden’s future into action.

  Her son deserved the very best. She wanted him to have everything he could possibly have. The kind of opportunity and vast choices she had never been afforded.

  She wanted the kind of financial security Chance and his siblings had grown up with, so that if, heaven forbid, anything ever happened to her, or Braden, she would have the money and resources to deal with it.

  Right now she didn’t.

  And wouldn’t if she stayed in the moderate-income range she currently enjoyed.

  So like it or not, she was headed to the big city come January.

  And she and Chance would have a casual, long-distance romance, or perhaps just fade out entirely.

  Either way, she had to be a grown-up about it. She couldn’t do what she did before with Aaron and be ready to base her whole life, all her plans for the future, on a man.

  Because if her growing relationship with Chance didn’t work out—as the affair with Braden’s daddy hadn’t—she would be devastated. Professionally and personally. The setbacks and fallout might be impossible to overcome.

  She couldn’t do that to herself. She couldn’t do it to her son. So she would enjoy this Christmas the way she had never enjoyed a holiday before, she reassured herself fiercely, and move on from there.

  “Sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” Chance asked the following evening. Why was just the sound of his deep, gravelly voice so sexy? Why was his rock-solid presence so comforting and enticing? A lump rose to her throat as unbidden tears sprang to her eyes. Shaking off the unwelcome emotion, Molly finished slipping on the shoes that matched her borrowed dress.

  Feeling part imposter, part Cinderella, she cradled the phone to her ear. “No, I have to drop off Braden. He’s having a sleepover with Will and Justin tonight, at Justin’s house.”

  “Ah.” Chance chuckled softly. “Can we have a sleepover, too?”

  Why not? Given how precious little time they had left to spend with each other. Plus, if the evening went as well as Lucille had predicted it would go for Molly, she’d likely have a lot to celebrate.

  “Possibly,” she murmured coyly, moving a small distance away from her son, who was busy playing with his Christmas village. “If you’re a good boy and we’re discreet.”

  “Oh, that can certainly be arranged, darlin’,” he reassured her playfully. “So.” His husky baritone was rife with promises. “My place?”

  “Yes.” She could leave very early tomorrow morning, before his hired hands arrived to take care of the bulls.

  “See you soon then.” His enthusiasm engendered her own. “And, Molly?”

  Heavens, she was going to miss this man. So much. “Yes?”

  “I want you to know.” The warmth of his emotions kindled hers. “You and Braden have made this the best yuletide season of my life.”

  Molly smiled, knowing deep down she could not want for more. “Right back at you, cowboy.”

  * * *

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Chance stood at the fringes of the crowd milling through the Open House at the newly renovated Circle H ranch house, making good on his promise not to be seen with Molly. It wasn’t easy keeping his distance. She looked gorgeous as hell in a shimmering emerald-green cocktail dress, black velvet evening blazer and stiletto heels.

  As previously arranged, his mother had her arm looped through Molly’s and was taking her around, introducing her as the hottest up-and-coming
interior designer.

  From what he could see, a lot of interest was being generated. Which meant Molly would soon be as successful and financially secure as she dreamed of being.

  In Dallas...

  While he was here. Right where he wanted to be. Or had, until she and her young son had sauntered into his life.

  “A million bucks for your thoughts,” Chance’s younger brother Wyatt gibed, joining him.

  They clinked glasses. “Very funny.” Chance sipped his Bourbon & Branch.

  “Actually, it’s appropriate.”

  Chance lifted a brow at the most cynical of his siblings.

  With a knowing smirk, Wyatt informed him, “Mr. X is here, with Babs and Delia, and they’re coming for you.”

  Chance promptly changed the subject to something his horse-ranching brother would not want to discuss. “As long as we’re talking about affairs that are long over,” he said smugly, “I saw Adelaide Smythe.” She was Wyatt’s very single, very pregnant with twins ex-girlfriend from way back, who Wyatt had never really gotten over.

  Wyatt remained unflappable. Which meant, Chance intuited, the two had already crossed swords.

  “As the new CFO of Lockhart Foundation, Adelaide would be expected to be here. The piranhas on the lookout for you, however, would not.”

  So true, he admitted reluctantly. “Mom invited them?”

  “Apparently, Garrett and Hope found out that Mr. X has a reputation for supporting nonprofits geared to helping our military and their families, so they suggested to Mom that she invite the very deep-pocketed Mr. X. I don’t think they expected him to show up personally. But then, they hadn’t heard about how he’d been attempting to buy you out.” Wyatt lifted his glass to Chance. He nodded toward the trio emerging from one of the tents. “And here they come...”

  Wyatt stepped aside to make room, but he stayed to watch the show. The woman who would have been his mother-in-law closed in. “Last opportunity,” Babs told Chance.