Looking handsome as ever, with his dark hair ruffled from the winter wind, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket and gave her a teasing once-over as she joined him.
“You’re not going to faint on me, are you?” he asked.
Libby rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to lean in close to the protective shield of his tall, strong body.
Still feeling a little peeved that he hadn’t given her a proper good-night kiss the evening before—no matter what she had said days earlier—she shoved her own hands in the pockets of her sophisticated red down jacket. “No. Of course not.” Unable to resist, she slanted a mocking glance his way. “Are you going to faint on me?”
Holden rubbed his palm contemplatively along the rugged line of his jaw and peered at her in concern. “Maybe we should have some smelling salts on us, just in case.”
Libby couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not. She did know he had worked just as hard at the booth he and Kurt had run, as she and Paige had at theirs.
She slowed her steps as they reached the entrance, delaying the moment they actually went inside. Burning with curiosity, she asked, “Why did Kurt slap you on the back like that when we were leaving?”
Holden turned toward her and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear, the backs of his fingers caressing her cheek slightly in the process. Then he shrugged. “Why do men always slap each other on the back?” he asked, all innocence.
“I don’t know.” Libby rocked forward on her heels and propped her fists on her hips. “Encouragement?” she guessed.
Holden nodded. “Exactly.”
Libby told herself the satisfied gleam in his eyes had nothing to do with the passionate way they’d made love to each other a few nights earlier. “Why do you need encouragement?” she pressed.
Holden grinned and leaned in closer still. Almost close enough for them to kiss. “Why do you think?”
This flirting was beginning to be fun. It was also showing her a whole new side to Holden McCabe.
Maybe he wasn’t so guilt-ridden and far too responsible for his own good, after all.
Maybe she had been wrong to insist on a sexual timeout….
He opened the door to the pharmacy and ushered her inside. Ten minutes later, they had both filled out their forms, paid the fee and received their injections. Band-Aids on, they were free to go. “So now what?” Libby said as he helped her with her coat and slipped his on, too.
Holden’s hand moved to the small of her back as they made their way toward the exit.
Unfortunately, the aisle they had randomly chosen was filled with contraceptives and sexual aids and lotions. Appearing oblivious to the products lined up to the left of them, Holden leaned in closer and murmured in her ear, “Well, if we were still rebound dating, I know what we’d do.”
So did Libby, unfortunately. If she spent any time at all alone with him, she would undoubtedly end up in his bed, enjoying herself every bit as much as she had before. Consequences be damned!
Trying not to flush, she hurried on down the aisle toward the safety of the greeting cards stacked at the other end. Then, taking his hand, she hurried Holden out the door and across the lot to their vehicles.
Only when they had were safely out of earshot of everyone did she release her grip on him.
Their eyes met, and she felt a heady sensation deep inside her. “You’re trying to get me to change my mind,” she accused. About everything.
“I’m trying to get you to take us off Hold.”
Here was her chance.
She could play it safe, the way she had been.
Be loyal to everything she had known in the past.
Or take a risk.
AS THE SECONDS TICKED BY, Holden wasn’t sure what Libby was going to do. He could see she was as deeply conflicted as he, that she didn’t want to risk their fast-growing friendship with a more intimate relationship that might or might not work out, for even the short run.
“On one condition,” Libby said finally, beginning to smile. “It has to be something fun. And holidayish.”
Holden’s tension eased. Playtime was something he could handle. Especially with Libby.
Given where they were standing, it didn’t take long for the next idea to hit. “How about some holiday greenery for the front grilles of our vehicles?” Decorating your ride was a fine Texas tradition. One, as far as Holden knew, that she had never participated in.
“You’re serious.”
Having picked a winner, he raised his shoulder. “We’ll make it a contest.”
She slapped her thigh. “Now you’re talking!”
Enjoying the lively spark in her dark green eyes, he continued the challenge. “Whoever has the best-decorated wreath wins.”
Her lips curved in a delicious smile. “The winner—?”
Remembering the silky feel of her skin, wishing he could forgo convention and kiss her again, Holden decided, “The winner gets the meal of his or her choice. The loser cooks said meal.”
Libby propped her hands on her hips and challenged him with a tilt of her chin. “Can you cook?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “There’s one way to find out.”
Laughing and teasing each other good-naturedly, they headed for the Kiwanis lot. It was crowded with people selecting trees, garlands and wreaths.
Holden and Libby concentrated on the latter.
Soon after, the next debate began.
She shook her head disparagingly at the wreath he was looking at. “Having one that large is ridiculous.”
But Holden liked it. It wasn’t sissy—it was man-size. He chucked her playfully on the chin. “Haven’t you heard? In Texas, everything that is bigger—is better.”
Libby struggled not to laugh. “I don’t think that’s exactly how the saying goes.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “That medium size would be perfect for my Range Rover.”
“I don’t have a problem with that, as long as I get the large one for my pickup.”
“Then size can’t matter in the final analysis,” Libby bargained.
Holden’s eyes lit up in a way that told her he had found another meaning for her words. “I’m sure it won’t,” he said smoothly.
Libby flushed. “You’re not going to behave yourself at all this evening, are you?”
She made it damn hard not to think about making love. “Hey—” Holden angled a thumb at his chest “—I figure as long as we’re spending time together, we may as well be ourselves.”
HOLDEN HAD A POINT, Libby knew.
For reasons she chose not to examine too closely, she wanted to drop her guard, too. Even though she suspected where that would likely lead. “Then I’ll take the Mama Bear size and you can take the Papa Bear size,” she said.
Holden grinned and paid for the wreaths. From there, they drove to the arts-and-crafts store. On a Saturday evening so close to Christmas, it was crowded with shoppers eager to pick up what they needed to complete their own decorating.
Libby headed straight for the yuletide aisles. She filled her shopping basket with red velvet ribbon, pinecones, and silver and gold ornaments while Holden stood patiently by.
Finally she turned. “Aren’t you going to get anything?” she asked in consternation.
He regarded her with the same indulgence doting men used for their wives. “I was waiting for you to finish.”
Libby swallowed, pushing the idea of marriage away. “I’ve got what I need. So you better get a move on, cowboy.”
Grinning, Holden headed off to the college-sports section. He picked up a University of Texas banner, miniature longhorn cattle mascots, and footballs and basketballs.
“That’s not Christmassy,” Libby said with a perplexed frown.
He laughed, soft and low. “It is to me.” Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Where’s your school spirit? You’re a UT grad, too.”
Tingling with desire, Libby straightened. “Men!”
He regarde
d her with comically exaggerated exasperation. “Women!”
And they were on.
After Libby paid for their purchases—over Holden’s protests—the two of them went back to his ranch and spread their purchases out on the family-room floor. Holden turned on a Chris Botti Christmas CD. As the sexy trumpet music filled the room, they began working in earnest, ribbing each other all the while.
An hour later, they took their creations out to the driveway. Using coated wire, they attached three points of the wreaths to the front grilles of their respective vehicles, then stood back to judge their handiwork.
As Libby admired his breathtaking creation, she had to admit Holden had done a stellar job.
He had passed on a bow, and instead threaded the evergreen wreath with burnt-orange and white ribbons, the university colors. The official Texas banner was wired to the center of the wreath. Miniature longhorn mascots, footballs and basketballs served as ornaments.
Hers was equally gorgeous, though. She had tied a fancy, red velvet bow to the top of her wreath and studded the evergreen boughs with pine cones, and gold and silver ornaments.
“Much as I’m loath to admit it, I think yours is better,” Holden said finally.
Libby shook her head. “Yours is definitely more original.”
They exchanged grins.
He held out his hand. “A tie, then?”
She fitted her palm against his. “Agreed.”
Their fingers remained entwined. “So…who makes who dinner?” he asked eventually.
Who cared about eating, when her date for the evening looked so sexy?
Telling herself all good things come to those who wait, Libby reined in her skyrocketing desire and suggested cheerfully, “Suppose we do it together?”
A sensual smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He seemed as eager to spend time with her as she was with him. “Good idea. Although I have to tell you, my fridge isn’t nearly as well stocked as yours.”
He wasn’t kidding, Libby soon found out.
There was part of a chocolate-peppermint pie from his sister’s restaurant. A gallon of milk, another of orange juice, a six-pack of Bohemia beer. A package of hot dogs and buns, mustard, ketchup and pickles. The pantry held a bag of chips.
“Looks like we’re having an indoor cookout,” she sighed.
“Sounds good to me.”
As Holden built a fire in the fireplace, Libby located the long-handled forks for grilling. They set up picnic-style in front of the hearth. When he smiled at her, she suddenly realized that nothing was as simple as it seemed.
MOST WOMEN WOULD HAVE turned up their nose at the meager offerings in his fridge and insisted he take them out for a proper Saturday-evening dinner. It was only eight-thirty. There were plenty of places in Laramie still open.
But Libby seemed content to rough it right along with him. He was content just sitting there in the soft light, listening to the music and watching her.
“You keep smiling,” he said after a while, aware that there was magic in the air and it was all due to her.
“I was just thinking about how happy I am right now.” Her lips curved in a gentle smile. “I haven’t felt this much Christmas spirit in a long time.”
Holden fitted a hot dog on a long-handled fork and gave it to her. “What were your holidays like as a kid?”
She shifted closer to the fire and held the meat over the burning oak. “Memories of the holidays with my parents are a little fuzzy, since they died when I was in elementary school, but I can remember them taking me to see Santa Claus at the mall, decorating a tree, having Christmas dinner in a restaurant.”
There was such warm affection in her voice. “And after that—with your aunt Ida?” Holden prodded.
Libby moved over slightly, so he could cook his hot dog, too. “Aunt Ida was all about the little things,” she reflected fondly. “Perfectly decorating the tree and the rest of the house, baking gifts for all the neighbors, caroling…. After she passed, the holidays lost a lot of its joy for me. But maybe that’s because I let it…”
Holden’s shoulder nudged hers as they both tried to keep their hot dogs from getting too close to the flames. “I remember Christmas with Percy’s family was always a little tense.”
“And for good reason.” She handed Holden her fork and then set about opening up two whole-wheat buns. “All his parents ever wanted was to spend time with him. And all Percy ever wanted was to head for the slopes.” Libby squirted on mustard. “He loved his folks, but he still had one foot out the door all of Christmas Eve, much to their displeasure. We usually left for New Mexico or Colorado right after present opening on Christmas Day.”
Holden helped transfer the deliciously charred hot dogs to the buns. “And once you were there?”
She added potato chips to both their plates. “He skied every second he could on the black diamond runs, which were way too difficult for me. So—” she sighed wearily, munching on a dill pickle “—we usually spent a lot of time apart. Although we’d usually meet up for a late dinner in a restaurant.”
Holden opened a beer for her. “Did you ever try to change that?”
“You know Percy.” Libby took a sip of the golden liquid. “He wanted what he wanted, when he wanted it…and that was that.”
And, Holden was willing to bet, she had never complained.
He had loved his late friend, but in this respect, Percy had been a donkey’s rear end, because Libby had deserved so much better.
“What about you?” she asked as they began to eat. “What were your Christmases like as a kid?”
Holden watched the play of firelight on her honeyed hair. “Just what you would expect.” He shrugged. “Fun, loving. All the traditional stuff. Lots of family.” He sobered. “That changed when Heidi and I got involved.”
Libby finished her hot dog and munched on a chip. “How so?”
“The first December Heidi and I were together, we were just beginning our relationship. Heidi learned she was pregnant. The crisis colored the holiday.”
“She wasn’t happy?”
“Not really. Not the way I was.” Again, Holden’s shoulder touched Libby’s as they turned their attention to the flames. “Looking back now, I realize she wasn’t over her ex. At the time it happened, I thought it had to do with the fact that she was expecting a baby and we weren’t married.” Wearily, Holden continued, “Heidi knew her family wasn’t going to like that—or the fact we had been dating only a couple of months. So we went to Cabo, to elope.”
“And then in March, she miscarried,” Libby recalled.
Holden nodded, the memory making him grim. The six months he had been married had been the unhappiest of his life, yet he’d felt like an utter failure when it all fell apart.
He swallowed and pushed on. “In June, Heidi told me she didn’t love me, was never going to love me, asked for a divorce and left town.”
A compassionate silence stretched between them. Libby reached over and took his hand and Holden exhaled. “Our marriage ended in September.”
She looked down at their laced fingers. “And then you and Percy went off on that last trip, and he died later that month.”
Holden gave her hand a squeeze, let go. “I haven’t felt a lot like celebrating the holidays since.”
Another silence fell, this one not so easy to bridge. “I understand,” Libby said softly at last. “I used to feel the same way.”
Holden noticed her use of the past tense. “And now?” he pressed, suddenly realizing how much was hinging on her answer.
For the first time in a long while, Libby looked at peace. “I’m thinking it’s time to turn the page, start over,” she said emphatically. “Really enjoy the holidays for a change.”
Absorbing the sight of her, so lovely and intent, Holden grinned. Together, they stood and carried their dishes into the kitchen. “That being the case, maybe we should do something about that.” He took her arm and led her back toward the living room.
/> “Like what?” Libby asked, her eyes sparkling as they settled back on the floor before the fire.
Desire welled inside him. “Like this.”
Chapter Eleven
The next thing Libby knew, Holden’s arms were around her and his head was lowering to hers. She gasped as their lips forged. Waves of anticipation swept through her and then his mouth was locked on hers in a slow, sexy kiss that stole her breath. She melted against him, her breasts pressed against the hardness of his chest.
He was so warm and so strong. So unbelievably tender in his pursuit of her. She felt completely overwhelmed by the exciting masculine taste of his mouth, the tantalizing stroking of his tongue and the sweet, evocative pressure of his lips. She sighed in contentment as he deepened the kiss even more, commanding and seducing. She felt the sandpapery rub of his beard, inhaled the unique leather-and-soap fragrance that was him and sank ever deeper into his embrace.
Still kissing, they shifted. He guided her backward, so she was lying on the rug before the fire. He was beside her, his leg wedged between hers.
Libby loved how he challenged her to stop trying to please everyone else, and worry instead about pleasing herself. She loved the reckless, womanly way he made her feel.
He wasn’t afraid to take desire to the limit, and for the first time, he made her want to do the same.
It didn’t matter if they loved each other, although she was beginning to feel as if she might be falling for him in a major way. It didn’t matter if this was meant to work out for the foreseeable future, or just the holiday season. Libby wanted Holden. She wanted to feel alive. Blessed. And joyful. She wanted this gift of time and caring and passion. The intimate emotional connection only he offered. And this one holiday, she was going for it all.
HOLDEN HADN’T MEANT TO kiss Libby this evening.
Oh, he had known he would hold her in his arms again. He had known from the way she looked at him, whenever she thought he didn’t see, that she felt the new yearning between them, too.
He hadn’t planned to let his passion for her get ahead of him, or risk having her feel that this was something that translated only into physical needs.
A Cowboy to Marry Page 11
