The Rancher's Christmas Promise

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  The air suddenly felt electric and thunder cracked. She made a sound. Sexy. Greedy. And took him even deeper.

  He let her go. Let her do as she pleased. And oh, how it pleased. For as long as he could hold out. Then a flash of soft light flickered in the distance, giving shape to the canopy of clouds. Giving shape to the woman kneeling before him.

  “Enough.” It was a rough order. A rough plea. He pulled away. Pulled her up. Maybe it wasn’t going to be one-and-done. Maybe they’d manage a year. Two. Before convenience didn’t matter to her so much and she’d want more out of life than a business deal of a marriage.

  But he wanted more this time—this first time—than just this.

  Another fat raindrop splashed on his shoulder as he drew her up to him and found her mouth with his. Found her breasts with his hands. And she was right there with him. Pressing herself against him, her nipples tight points against his palms. Her tongue mingling with his, her hands dragging up and down his spine before closing over his head.

  He could feel her heart pounding as hard as his own as he lifted her against him. Her legs slid along his thighs and wrapped around his hips. And then she cried out when he slid inside her, and he froze. Because she was so tight. So small in comparison to him, and he was suddenly afraid of hurting her.

  Thunder cracked overhead and the clouds finally opened up, drenching them in seconds.

  Holding her ought to have been impossible. Water rained down on them, making her flesh slick. But she simply twined herself around him, holding him tightly gloved within. “Don’t stop now.” She sounded exultant as she dragged his mouth back to hers.

  And then everything that was perfect overrode his fear.

  Wet inside.

  Wet outside.

  And she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He backed up until he felt the table. There’d be time for bed later. Time for every other thing he could possibly imagine. He ignored the rough, splintering wood as he leaned against it and took her slight weight in his hands and thrust.

  “Yes.” She arched in perfect counterpoint.

  Again. And again. And again. He wanted to go on and on and on, but he knew he wouldn’t last. Not with the way he could feel her quickening. Tightening. Shuddering.

  Lightning flashed.

  Her head dropped back but she clung to him. “Yes!”

  The rain fell and the world shrank down to this one woman in his arms.

  And he let himself go.

  “Yessssss.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Yes. I do.”

  Judge Stokes smiled at Ryder and turned to Greer to repeat the vow. “And will you, Greer Templeton, take this man, Ryder Wilson, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer? Forsaking all others and keeping only to him?”

  It was vaguely surreal, standing there in Judge Stokes’s chambers.

  But there was nothing surreal about Greer’s answer. Since she’d made the decision to marry Ryder, she hadn’t suffered any second thoughts. “Yes,” she said just as clearly as he had. “I do.”

  The judge smiled benevolently at them. With his white hair and beard, and his tendency toward wearing red shirts, he looked a bit like Santa Claus. Even though it was only the end of August. “Then—” he closed his small black book “—by the authority vested in me by the State of Wyoming, and with a great deal of personal delight I might add, I declare you to be husband and wife.” He spread his hands. “Congratulations. You may kiss your bride.”

  Ryder, looking uncommonly urbane in a dark gray suit with a lighter gray striped tie knotted around his neck, turned to her. He took her hands and his thumb brushed over the narrow platinum band he’d given her. His thick hair was brushed back from his face. There was no hatband mark in evidence. His jaw was clean-shaven and his blue eyes were brilliant. When he leaned down, instead of his usual scent of hay or grass or fresh open air, he smelled faintly woodsy. Exotic.

  He was entirely un-rancherly.

  And for the first time in thirty-six hours—since the night she’d gone to his house and she’d thrown herself, mind and body, into his marriage plan—she felt a wrinkle of unease.

  How well did she really know this man to whom she’d just promised herself? This rancher who had a beautiful gray suit that looked as if it had been custom tailored just sitting around in his closet?

  Was it a leftover from his Vegas wedding to Daisy?

  It was just a suit, she reminded herself. She’d pulled her dress from her closet, too.

  Then his eyes met hers, and it felt as though he knew exactly how she was feeling.

  “We can do this,” he murmured. Low. For her ears only.

  She gave a tiny nod.

  The faint lines beside his eyes crinkled slightly and his dimple appeared. Then his lips brushed slowly, lightly across hers.

  It was barely a kiss. Yet it was still enough to make her feel warm way down inside.

  But there was no time to dwell on it, because the judge’s wife and his usual clerk, Sue, who were acting as their witnesses, had started clapping. Layla, dressed in a ruffled yellow jumper, jabbered and clapped her hands, too. Sue had insisted on holding her during the ceremony.

  “Just lovely,” Mrs. Stokes said. “So romantic.”

  Greer bit back a spurt of amusement that she knew Ryder felt, as well, and relaxed even more.

  They were of one mind when it came to that particular element of marriage. They could rock each other’s socks off in the bedroom while Layla slept. Or on a picnic table in the rain. Or in his shower that ought to have been too cramped, but wasn’t. All of which they’d done in the span of a mere day.

  But this legal union of theirs wasn’t about romance. It was because of Layla, and for no other reason.

  “If I could get your signatures here?” Sue pointed to the marriage license they’d obtained just that morning from the county clerk’s office. She evaded Layla’s grab for the pen and handed it to Ryder.

  He signed the document and handed the pen to Greer before lifting Layla out of Sue’s arms. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure. It’s just so exciting to see a happy ending for all of you.”

  Greer finished signing her name next to Ryder’s and she capped the pen before handing it back. “Thanks, Sue.”

  “I still can’t believe you did this without your family, though. They’re going to be so surprised.”

  “We didn’t want anything or anyone—not even family—delaying it,” Greer explained smoothly.

  “That’s how it is, isn’t it?” Sue’s eyes sparkled. “When you know you absolutely can’t spend one more minute without committing to the person you love?”

  “It was like that for us, wasn’t it, Horvald?” Mrs. Stokes commented as she signed the witness line.

  It was easier to let them think that than to tell them the truth. That Greer hadn’t wanted to give her family a chance to talk her out of it. Which they would surely have done, no matter how much they, too, loved Layla.

  Ryder had disagreed with her. Said they should wait, at least long enough to tell her family. It wasn’t about seeking approval or blessings. It was about respecting them enough to give them the truth.

  Greer had prevailed, though. They’d made the decision. If they’d waited, they’d have had to wait through Labor Day holiday weekend to be married. Meaning she’d also have to wait four more days to file the petition to adopt Layla.

  Sue took up the pen and signed after Mrs. Stokes. Then the court clerk set the document on the judge’s desk. “Congratulations again.” Sue linked her arm through Mrs. Stokes’s and the two of them left the judge’s chambers.

  “All right.” The judge signed the license with a flourish after they’d gone. “I guess I can trust you to turn that in to the recorder’s office.” He slid
the paperwork into its envelope and handed it to Greer. “And now for your next item of business.”

  He moved another document to the center of his desk. “I’ve reviewed your petition for Layla’s adoption and everything is in order.” As he spoke, he signed his name and then he flipped open an enormous date book in which, Greer knew, he kept all of his case schedules. It didn’t matter that Sue managed his official calendar by more efficient—namely computerized—methods. Horvald Stokes still liked his old-fashioned calendar. And it was legend how he’d never once made a scheduling mistake.

  He flipped through it, studying and muttering to himself under his breath. Then he went back a few pages. Then forward again. And finally he stopped. “Hearing will be November 19.” He made the notation in his book and then on the petition. “That’s before Thanksgiving.”

  For the first time that day, Greer’s smile felt shaky. Becoming Layla’s mother was the crux of the matter, the reason they were there at all. When they were done, Layla would have a father and a mother. The hearing in November would be little more than a formality before Judge Stokes could sign the final decree. “Sounds perfect to me, Your Honor.”

  “It really is my genuine pleasure.” He stood and pulled one of the black robes off the coat stand behind his desk and slipped his arms into the voluminous sleeves. “Layla had a rocky start through no fault of her own. I’m more than pleased that things have resolved themselves in this manner.”

  A manner that Greer never would have imagined six months ago.

  Her throat felt tight. “Thank you again for fitting us into your schedule today.”

  He winked. “Fifteen minutes for a good cause.”

  Sue returned then and gathered up both the thick, stapled document that he’d signed and his oversize date book. “Both parties for your next case are present, Judge Stokes, whenever you’re ready.”

  He nodded and she went through the doorway that Greer knew led directly from his chambers into his courtroom. The fact that he zipped up his robe before he headed toward the door meant he was prepared to get straight to business. “Will we be seeing you at the county picnic this weekend?”

  Greer moistened her lips and adjusted the band of black velvet fabric around her waist. By itself, her knee-length ivory cotton sundress had seemed a little too casual to wear to her own wedding. Marriage of convenience or not. After seeing Ryder’s suit, she was glad she’d made her outfit a bit more formal by adding the wide black belt. The black touches were repeated in the jet clip she’d pinned into her chignon and her black suede pumps.

  “I’m afraid not. I’ve left the public defender’s office.” She’d turned in her notice to Michael the day before. He’d been livid and told her she needn’t serve out the two weeks. Considering the choice he’d given her, she felt like she was the one who had a right to be livid. “I’m cleaning out my desk when we’re finished here, actually.”

  The judge was clearly surprised. “You’re not leaving the practice of law, I hope. You’re an incredibly valuable part of the legal community, Greer.”

  The praise was as unexpected as it was touching and she didn’t know quite what to say.

  “She’s opening her own firm,” Ryder said.

  Greer understood why it was so important to Ryder, even though, in her own mind, it was a much hazier proposition.

  The judge’s expression cleared. “Good for you! I look forward to you really spreading your wings.” His smile broadened. “And one day, Mrs. Wilson,” he said, winking, “I’ll expect to see you on the bench.” He pulled open the door and went into his courtroom.

  Which left Greer alone with Ryder.

  Her husband.

  They’d married so quickly she hadn’t even thought whether she was going to take his name. Mrs. Wilson...

  Layla was yanking on his tie, jabbering away in her sweet little-girl babble, and Greer pushed away the thought.

  “That went smoothly,” she said. “Don’t you think?”

  “It was smooth enough.” He tugged at his tie, but Layla looked ready to do battle over it. “I should have said before—you look real pretty.”

  She dashed her hand quickly down the skirt of her dress, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I guess the dress did the job. It’s ancient. Back from law school days. You...you look very nice, too.” She snatched up the small black clutch she’d brought with her, along with the entirely unexpected nosegay of fresh lavender stalks wrapped in gray ribbon that he’d given her. “I guess you must subscribe to the theory that every man should have a decent suit in his closet.”

  His dimple appeared. “I was afraid it would be a little tight. Last time I put it on was at least five years ago.” He looked at Layla, chuckling. “Gonna need a new tie now, though.”

  So. Not the suit from his Vegas wedding.

  She lifted the bouquet and inhaled the soothing fragrance. “Looks like it fits you just fine,” she managed, and led the way out of the judge’s office.

  As she clutched the lavender, she noticed how foreign the shining ring felt on her wedding finger. It was a little too loose.

  She honestly wasn’t sure what had surprised her more.

  The flowers or the ring.

  He’d chosen both. She couldn’t imagine when he’d had the time.

  She reminded herself that the ring would simply take some getting used to. As would chasing after Layla instead of chasing clients right here among these courtrooms every day.

  Simple enough.

  They’d reached the wide central staircase. Her high heels clicked on the marble as she started down. It was only ten in the morning. But it was a Friday, which meant that most of the courtrooms weren’t in use and the building was pretty empty.

  The recorder’s office on the first floor was open every weekday, though, and they stopped there to turn in their signed wedding license.

  “Don’t forget this.” The girl working behind the counter was new. She didn’t know Greer. She was holding out the certificate portion of the wedding license. Though it was nothing more than a souvenir, the reality suddenly sank in.

  Greer’s head swam. She took the certificate, feeling embarrassed by the way her fingers visibly trembled. “Thank you.” She went to tuck the folded paper in her clutch, but the thick parchment slid out of her grasp. She knelt down to grab it.

  When she rose, she swayed.

  Ryder’s hand closed over her elbow, steadying her. “When’s the last time you ate?”

  “Yesterday evening.” She’d spent the night before at home, wrapping up the details of her resignation. Contacting her former clients and letting them know that she wasn’t abandoning them, even though it felt like it. That someone else from her office would be taking good care of them.

  She’d fallen asleep in the middle of making case file notes for the attorney who would come after her.

  When she’d woken up, she had a crease in her cheek from the folders and a stiff neck from sleeping with her head on her desk. She still felt a little stiff now.

  “Let’s get you fed, then,” he said, caressing her neck, his fingertips somehow magically discerning the tight spots.

  “After I clean out my office.”

  His hand closed around her shoulders. “Your office can wait.” Holding her in one arm and Layla in the other, he headed toward the courthouse exit.

  “But—”

  He didn’t slow his long, measured strides. “What’s left that matters, Greer? You told me about the clock.”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I have stuff there still.”

  “Paper clips?” They’d reached the courthouse doors and he let go of her to hold one open. “Face it, Counselor. If anything else had truly mattered, you’d have taken it the same time you took the clock.”

  She hated to admit he was right. “I need to at least drop off the box of files I
still have.”

  “Fine.” When they stepped outside, they were greeted by clear blue skies. The heat had broken a little. “After you’ve eaten.”

  “Is this what being married to you is going to be like? You telling me what’s what?” She stopped on the courthouse steps, tucking her clutch beneath her arm and pointing her lavender bouquet at him. Layla was playing with his ear and yanking on his tie as though it was a rein.

  “It is when I know I’m right.” He tried to smooth his tie; the attempt seemed futile. He took Greer’s hand in his and they began to descend the courthouse steps.

  That’s when she saw them.

  Her parents. Vivian. Her brother and sisters. Their husbands. All of them were there. Even Rosalind, who hadn’t visited Braden in years.

  Greer yanked her hand from Ryder’s. “What did you do?”

  “You want Layla to be part of your family. So.” He took her hand again, firmly, and nodded toward the not-so-small crowd assembled at the bottom of the stairs. “I called them. Last time I got married it was supposedly for the right reasons. We eloped. Never told a soul until after the fact. And you know how that turned out. So I’m doing things differently this time. I’m not going to pretend we’re living in a vacuum. We can’t shut out the people who care about us the most.” He looked into her eyes, his expression intense. “They’re gonna say we didn’t marry for the right reasons but I don’t care. Our reasons are our own. As long as you and I are on the same page, we’re good.” He squeezed her hand. “We are good,” he repeated. “Showing them is the only way they’ll get on board.”

  She moistened her lips. “I’m not so sure I like it when you’re right.”

  He smiled faintly. “You’ll get used to it in time.”

  A fine idea in theory. So why did it make her feel increasingly disconcerted?

  Adjustments, Greer.

  She tugged his tie away from Layla and smoothed it down the front of his hard chest. Her fingers wanted to linger. Her common sense insisted otherwise. “I guess now I don’t have to keep running scenarios in my mind about how to tell my parents.”