If Santa Were a Cowboy

by Melissa Cutler

  “Yeah. He knows you and I used to be close, so sometimes he fills me in on what’s going on with you.” It was a palatable version of the truth anyway.

  She searched his eyes. “See? There you are again, the Paul I knew. You’ve changed so much, but some things never do.”

  He ground his molars together. Not quite. The Paul she’d known had gotten real, grown the fuck up, and gotten over her a long time ago. The only thing he still had in common with the Paul she’d known was that he was a nice person. End of story. “How are you doing, post breakup?”

  Her smile fell. “Depends on your answer to my original question. Is it okay that I’m here, working with you?”

  No. But his resolve to keep his life Kelly-free had crumbled along with his armor. As long as he didn’t turn back into the moony-eyed chump he used to be around her, he could handle a few weeks of working with her. “Of course. If that’s what you need.”

  Her shoulders dropped and she released a big breath. “It is. Paul, more than anything.” She took her hand from his and set it on his knee. Her fingers slipped up his thigh in an unmistakable flirtation. “There was a time you wanted me, and—to be honest—I always wanted you, too, but I was too scared to try. I wronged you in a major way, more than once. But I’m not scared anymore and I want to rewrite the past. I want to rewrite who I was, with you.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the actual fuck?

  This was a hundred times worse than being a rebound guy. She wanted to use him as a tool to help her feel better about her past mistakes. A tool for her. Like he’d always been. The Mr. Nice Guy who she used as sympathetic ear when it was convenient for her, discretely, so none of her friends knew, only to shun him around town, at school and parties and bars, anywhere that an association with him might damage her reputation.

  Hell-to-the-no. His agitation propelled him from his chair. He snatched up the riding crop from her lap. “This thing isn’t going to right any wrongs.”

  She pushed out of her chair and snatched the crop from him. “You don’t know that it won’t.”

  Yeah, he was pretty sure, actually. And to prove it, he stepped right up to her, looming large, infusing intensity into his eyes. Paul the lovesick, high school chump clawed at his chest, fighting to be unleashed, so he forced himself to remember one of his most shameful memories. He’d never forget the week he’d commandeered his mom’s broom to practice slow dancing because Kelly had promised him a dance at the prom. A dance that never happened. “You think me tying you up and whipping you with that thing would help you get over your boyfriend?”

  It was a solid point. The trouble was, once the words were out of his mouth, he couldn’t dislodge the image from his mind. He didn’t care for all that dom/sub stuff, but the idea of having Kelly Sawyer stripped down and tied to his bed was eliciting some really inconvenient changes to his body.

  To his dismay, Kelly held her ground. If anything, she grew taller, her eyes dark with desire. “No, actually. I was planning to use it on you.”

  He hadn’t been ready for that answer. Stunned silent again, he peeled away from her, the loser in their game of chicken. Once he’d recovered his wits, he said, more gently, “What if I’m not interested in being your wrong?”

  She got close to him, this time touching his arm. He ground his teeth again, stifling a shiver at her touch. “Don’t you see? I’m the wrong in this situation. I’m the one who mishandled the attraction between us. I’m the one who hurt you.”

  Yes, she had. But he didn’t accept that answer either. Neither of them were the wrong. The simple truth was that they were never meant to be—it’d just taken him a hell of a lot longer to figure that out than it had her. He’d always been a late bloomer like that, stupid moony-eyed fool.

  “I want seven minutes in heaven with you, Paul.”

  His mouth went dry. She did not just go there. Seven Minutes in Heaven, the game that had started as a joke during a party when they were sophomores in high school, but had turned humiliating in a flash. That had been a watershed night for him. The first cracks in his delusion that he stood a chance with her. The bottle he’d spun landed on her, as he’d willed it to do with every cell in his body. But rather than go into the closet with him for seven minutes, as per the rules of the game, she’d laughed and fake gagged and quit the game. Then she’d left the party with the captain of the varsity basketball team.

  Had she really come all this way for a rematch?

  Goddamn.

  And what was stopping him, really? His dick pulsed, making its case, but the beat of his heart was stronger. He didn’t want a mere seven minutes in heaven with Kelly Sawyer. Never had.

  You’re getting four whole weeks instead.

  The last of his anger evaporated. Four whole weeks to rewrite the past with Kelly Sawyer and to prove to himself once and for all that he’d changed from that lovesick chump. Then she’d go home, and his simple, pre-Kelly Sawyer, effing great life would return. Maybe then, he could finally move on from the hold she still had on his heart.

  A solid plan, but if they were going to make up for all those years of unrequited love, then it was time to go all-in. “If we do this, then you’re staying at my house. The whole four weeks.”

  Her eyes flew open wide, and her breath caught. “You don’t have to do that. I can find a place. The resort offers temporary employee housing.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and rocked on his boot heels. “If memory serves, those dorms don’t have any closets. And it sounds like we’re gonna need one.”

  That got her good. Her mouth fell open. A rosy tint crept up the skin of her chest to her neck. Had she been bluffing this whole time and he’d called her on it? The Nice Guy part of him considered backing off, giving her an out. Then he eyed the suitcase of sin that she’d stuffed in the corner of the room.

  If she’d been bluffing and wanted an out, then all she had to do was say the word—but that didn’t mean he had to open the exit door and suggest she walk through it. “If I was the one who was wronged, as you think, then I’ll be the one to decide how to make things right,” he said. Because he wasn’t that weak-willed boy anymore. This time around, he’d be the one calling the shots.

  He walked to her suitcases and took the handles. “Say yes, Kelly. After all, this was your idea.”

  She gaped at him, then gave a slow blink. Sadie nosed Kelly’s leg. Kelly absentmindedly dropped a hand on her head to pet it. With her next breath, she nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  He couldn’t stop a hard smile as the full implication of the deal they’d struck finally hit him. “You and me, together.”

  Finally, his inner chump roared. Kelly and Paul. It was about goddamn time.

  Chapter Four

  Paul lived only fifteen minutes from the resort, but his log cabin nestled into a woodsy valley deep in the backcountry felt like a world away. In high school, Kelly would have never imagined the pale, lanky boy he was in a place like this, but the log cabin fit with Paul 2.0’s mountain-man beard and brawny build. Sitting on his expansive deck as he grilled them a couple steaks while Sadie romped in the clearing below, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. He was so at home in this wild place. Exhilaration coursed through her, knowing she was going to be wild with him, if only for a little while.

  The setting sun dipped behind the tops of the nearby hills and turned the pond behind the cabin an illustrious orange and pink. To stave off the evening chill, Kelly cuddled beneath a thick plaid quilt Paul had tucked around her before he’d lit a long row of candles that lined the middle of the wooden picnic table they were dining at. The eaves of the cabin were lined with white icicle lights and, in the window stood a tall but sparingly decorated Christmas tree. And as they ate their steaks and salads, the outdoor speakers mounted on the wall played the jazzy piano songs from A Charlie Brown Christmas. Never had Kelly experienced such a romantic holiday setting.

  Kelly gestured with her fork to the decadent meal he�
�d set before her. “If I hadn’t seen the look on your face when you first saw me in the resort lobby, I would’ve thought, from this spread and the candles and the wine that you knew I was coming.”

  He huffed out a laugh and his hand dropped onto Sadie’s back. She sat next to him on the bench after snarfing up her steak dinner from a metal dog dish on the floor. She sat quietly and never once tried to sneak a bite from Paul’s plate, nor did she bark or beg for attention. No doubt about it, she was the best-trained dog Kelly had ever seen.

  “I’d bought the steaks and wine for this weekend,” he said. “The plan was to invite my Santa Meet & Greet crew over for dinner the first night of the holiday kick–off weekend, like I do sometimes. Never in a million years would I have thought you might walk through those lobby doors.”

  Kelly stifled a cringe. “Yeah, that was a little bit too dramatic an entrance. Sorry about all that.”

  “It was definitely dramatic.” A hint of a rueful smile curved on his lips, capturing Kelly’s attention.

  She’d be kissing those lips soon, perhaps that night. A thrill swept through her at the thought. Boy, she’d had some major tunnel vision before seeing Paul. She hadn’t thought about his seduction beyond the mechanics of the performance—what toys she’d use, what skills she’d employ to drive him wild. Until now, watching those full lips move, and those strong, muscled arms flex and bunch, she hadn’t fully internalized the effect that he would have on her. She’d never given any thought to how he might make her feel, and how he might drive her wild. Now, though, she could hardly think of anything else.

  Clearing his throat, he rolled his wine glass on its edge. “So, uh, you’re a photographer. I didn’t know that, but it makes sense. I remember you being in yearbook and loving it.”

  “Huh?” It took her a few blinks to clear her mind of the vision of the two of them kissing and bring herself back around to his question. “Oh, yes. I worked in the photography department at JC Penney’s for a few years after college. It was good work, steady. After that, I got a job teaching photography at Cranston Community College.”

  “No way! You’re a college professor?”

  Was. Past tense. A ball of anxiety started roiling in her gut. Kelly was no liar. She was no fake. But she simply couldn’t convince herself to correct his impression of her, especially since he seemed so impressed. You see, Paul, my department chair caught me developing racy photos in the school’s black room after hours with my boyfriend on a dare by him and POOF! No more job. And no more boyfriend, either, not too long after that. “Yup.”

  “How’d you get the time off for this gig? School’s still in session, isn’t it?”

  She took a gulp of wine. They had to get off this subject before guilt destroyed her body from the inside out. “I’m on sabbatical. My Year of Yes, remember? And what about you? How did you get out of your regular job to play Santa?”

  “Oh, that’s no big deal. Same employer, and there isn’t much of a demand for backcountry tours this time of year. But back to you. Will you go back for the spring semester after the holidays?”

  More lies, more wine. “Yup.”

  “You were always the coolest girl in school. I bet you still are.”

  For the sake of her battered pride, this was the way it had to go down. Plus, Paul would never find out the truth. She hadn’t even told Shawn and Laura or her parents or anyone. For these four weeks, she just wanted to be Kelly, the success. Kelly who had her shit together. For four weeks, she wanted Paul Savage to look at her the way he was looking at her right that moment. Like she was really someone special.

  She shoved aside the last of her misgivings and ignored the churning of her stomach. “That’s me. But what about you? I mean, look at this place. You’ve really done great for yourself.”

  He slung an arm around Sadie. “Yeah, I’ve done all right. Life is good.”

  “The last I remember, you were getting some sort of science degree. So, how’d you end up as a backcountry guide-slash-Santa Claus for a luxury resort?”

  Apparently, the information train only went one way with their mutual friend Shawn. “I did get that science degree. Botany with a focus in dendrology.”

  “Dend-what? Never heard of it.”

  “The scientific study of trees. Right out of college, I got my first job as an arborist at a bed-and-breakfast in Horseshoe Bay, but the call of the wild wouldn’t stop beckoning, so I became a backcountry wilderness guide. I’ve been at Briscoe Ranch Resort for going on five years.”

  She smacked her hands on the table in mock-surprise. “You’re a tree hugger? I would have never guessed that career for you. Back in school, your complexion was so pale I used to tease you about whether you’d ever even seen the outdoors. You didn’t play sports or go camping—anything.”

  He leaned forward, hunching into his elbows and his expression sharp with stubborn pride. “One of these days it’s going to sink in with you that I’m not the same person I used to be.”

  Despite his proclamation, she searched his eyes for the Paul she knew. He was there, in his kindness and the focused way he’d watched her all afternoon, in his love of trees and the big-hearted way he loved his dog. And yet, she’d heard the warning in his words that he didn’t welcome reminders of the boy he used to be. “Maybe.”

  His cheek twitched at that. He strummed his fingers on the table. “As I was saying, trees are cool. I figured it out pretty quick in college that to study them properly, one must undertake a shit-ton of hiking. So that’s what I did. And it turned out that I love hiking. And I love taking the scientifically uninitiated on hikes, expanding people’s awareness of nature, just opening people’s eyes. That’s how I ended up with this job as a backcountry guide. That way I’m not stuck in a lab or behind a desk, pushing paper. Every day I wake up knowing I’m right where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m meant to do. With my dog and my trees.”

  Envy gnawed at her. Someday, she’d have a life that she loved, a life she could be proud of instead of merely pretending.

  She drank more wine but could feel the effects. She was only a little tipsy, but she pushed the glass away. She was already enough of a hot mess while completely sober. No need to add drunkenness to the mix, but she let him top off her glass anyway. If only because there was so little left . . . and they’d need that empty bottle to spin. And judging by the hungry look in his eyes, they both knew it.

  Their eyes met and held as he poured the last of it into her glass. He shook the bottle upside down, clearing it of any last drops. “Look at that. An empty bottle,” he said.

  Suddenly, Kelly’s stomach didn’t hurt as much, replaced in her focus by a pounding pulse and the first coils of desire low in her body. When she’d made the choice to go after Paul and seduce him, she’d thought it would be their mental connection sprinkled with nostalgia that would draw them together physically. She’d never expected this raw, visceral attraction to a man who checked every single one of her boxes—and a few she didn’t know she had.

  She plucked the bottle from his hand and placed it on its side on the table between them. “Go ahead. Spin it.”

  He set his hand on it, then rather than do as she commanded, he let out a slow whistle. “Tell me this is surreal for you, too.”

  “Totally.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

  Absolutely. Especially with him acting so cute and nervous. Falling into the alpha seductress role she’d perfected over the years, she stretched her foot out and ran it up his leg. “Are you sure you want to? You’re the one stalling.”

  He raised a brow. With a flick of the wrist, he set the bottle spinning. The twirling green glass spit droplets of wine on the table and bumped over the knots in the wood. As it slowed down, Kelly caught herself holding her breath and had to consciously remind herself how to breathe.

  When the bottle stopped, it was pointing at Sadie.

  “Sorry, Sadie,” he said. “I kiss you all the time, so y
ou’re gonna need to sit this one out.”

  Sadie cocked her head and wagged her tail as though she hoped her cuteness would change his mind.

  Paul set his hand on the bottle again. “Take two,” he said in a quiet rumble.

  The green glass twirled, more slowly this go-round. This time, when the bottle stopped moving, the mouth was pointed at Paul. They both released nervous chuckles.

  “I’m starting to think it was a miracle that it landed on me back at that party sophomore year,” she said.

  He opened his mouth, then closed it again. But Kelly had to know what he’d been about to say. “What?”

  “It didn’t feel like a miracle to me, back in sophomore year. It felt . . . it sucked, honestly.”

  The reminder only bolstered her reason for coming to Briscoe Ranch. Paul deserved so much better than she’d given him that night. And all the time, really. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

  “It didn’t just suck because of your reaction. I mean, yeah, that definitely sucked, but before that even. As soon as the game started, I was terrified. A huge part of me didn’t want to even take a turn spinning it, much less contemplating it landing on you, because I’d never kissed a girl before. And there you were, all sophisticated and experienced, and all your friends were watching.” He shook his head. “I think I was more nervous about it landing on one of your friends and word getting back to you that I was a terrible kisser.”

  He reached for the bottle again, but she captured his hand in hers instead. “I’m so sorry. The humiliation is all mine, for treating you so poorly, for making you feel like you had something to prove. You didn’t.”

  He shrugged a shoulder as he took back his hand. Then a self-deprecating smile spread on his lips. “Under all the mortification I felt that night, I think I was more relieved than anything that you begged off because I had no idea what I would’ve done with you in that closet for a whole seven minutes. No idea at all.”

  His honestly completely disarmed her. Looking at him now, that body, that confidence, it was hard to believe he’d ever been that other guy. He didn’t want her to think that he was that same guy, but the rawness of that night was still palpable in his story. Scars like that didn’t disappear, no matter how much you evolved as a person. Shame replaced the rock of liar’s guilt in her gut.