Lone Star Christmas

by Delores Fossen

  Oh my.

  He’d been worth the wait.

  She only got a glimpse of the full frontal, though, which was fine for now since he moved on to other things. He ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, got that sucker on and moved onto the couch with her.

  “Hard and fast for now,” he said to her like a warning.

  That sounded good to her because that for now meant she could play with him later. For now, he played her. In the best possible way, of course. Full frontal pushed into her.

  Hard and fast, just as he’d promised.

  And it sent her flying straight toward the moon. She hadn’t counted on fast being this fast, but she figured she reached the moon in under a minute. Incredibly amazing, though, for just a short ride.

  The orgasm rippled through her, doing its orgasm thing of first making her think she was going to die and then letting her know she had spent every ounce of available energy she had.

  But Callen wasn’t spent.

  Still very hard and deep inside her, he stopped and looked down at her. “Hard and fast again,” he drawled.

  She nearly laughed and wanted to tell him that she wasn’t a multiple-climax sort of woman. She was more the sort who had sex, cuddled and then crashed. But before she could say anything, he started to move inside her.

  He kissed her again.

  Then he slid his hand between their bodies. The journey was much easier now since they were slick with sweat, and he touched her. Adding some pressure in just the right spot while he continued those deep, long strokes.

  The fire reignited. Not some puny little ember or flame, either. Full-blown. And she went from sated to wanting a whole lot more.

  This time took longer. Maybe ten minutes, maybe six days. Shelby knew she’d lost her ability to measure time. But she sure knew how to measure something else.

  That Callen could follow through on his “again.”

  Apparently, she was a multiple-climax sort of woman after all.

  * * *

  DRINKING COFFEE, CALLEN stood at Shelby’s kitchen window and looked out at the frost that glittered on the ground. There was a soft white mist rising above it, just enough to let through the rays of morning sun. It was such a calm, pastoral scene with the horse grazing in the background.

  Completely opposite to the nonpastoral scene going on inside him.

  He’d come here to go ahead and tell Shelby about Buck. And to give a logical argument about why they shouldn’t be lovers. He’d accomplished neither of those things and instead had had sex.

  Oh, and spent the night with her.

  Best not to leave that off his list of things he’d screwed up. Now folks in town would notice that he hadn’t come back to the inn, and everyone would know he’d been with Shelby. It didn’t matter that his truck was at Buck’s. People would still know. Callen didn’t care about that for himself, but Shelby had to live here.

  She’d have to live with this.

  Plus, staying the night was a gazillion steps beyond just having sex. Couch sex could fall into the impulsive “we couldn’t help ourselves” category. But carrying her to bed, sleeping next to her, snuggling. Those were steps beyond. Steps that could cause her to get hurt.

  At least he hadn’t gone back for another round with her when they’d been in bed. Callen couldn’t take credit for that, though. He’d only had one condom, and even he wasn’t stupid enough to drive Shelby’s truck into town to buy condoms.

  This might be the twenty-first century, but Coldwater could be backward when it came to things like that. As archaic as it sounded, Shelby’s reputation could be soiled. This could also piss off Gavin and his family to the point where Silla might start another Dookie Head campaign—this time against Shelby.

  When he heard the footsteps behind him, Callen braced himself to see Shelby come walking in naked. After all, he’d left her naked in bed when he’d got up, grabbed a quick shower and then come into the kitchen to make some coffee. But she was fully clothed in her jeans and shirt. No boots but she had on socks.

  He hated that he felt the punch of disappointment that he wasn’t going to get another gawk at her.

  She smiled, went to him, and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she stole his coffee and drank nearly all of it before she handed him back the cup. Then she kissed him.

  He hated, too, that he also wanted more of that kiss, but he eased back and met her gaze. “I’ll probably go to hell for this.”

  “Well, at least you’ll go there with all your parts intact,” she pointed out. “No castration.”

  “There is that, but hell is still hell.”

  She smiled, brushed her temptress mouth over his again. “Then you should make it worth it,” she purred against his lips.

  Callen didn’t like to lie to himself, and he knew if he’d had a condom that he would have nailed her right there against the kitchen sink. After all, you could only send a man to hell once. He could go out with a bang—literally.

  “I need to see Rosy this morning.” She finally moved away from him and poured some coffee in a go-cup. “Wedding dress fitting. But you’re welcome to stay. Or maybe you want to ride over there with me to get your truck.”

  He couldn’t say no fast enough to that last part. It was early Monday morning, which meant Buck would be there. He didn’t want to face him that way. Not with the aura of Shelby sex glistening around him like frost.

  Nope.

  He’d ride Sweet Caroline back, deal with Buck’s reaction to what the man would almost certainly guess had happened. And then Callen would remind Buck that his deadline was up and that he was going to have to come clean to Rosy and Shelby.

  In other words, a shit day.

  Shelby put on her coat that he took from a peg by the back door, and she touched her fingers to the bunched-up part of his forehead. “There are no strings on this, Callen. In two weeks, give or take a day, you walk. I know that.”

  “Do you?” And he searched her eyes, looking for any signs that she was just blowing smoke.

  She wasn’t. Or at least she believed what she was telling him, and because of that, Callen wanted to believe it, too. It would help with the shit day looming.

  “Buy some more condoms,” Shelby said, her voice all husky and smoky. “I want to play with you later.”

  And with that hard-on-triggering comment, she smiled like a horny siren and walked out into the cold Monday morning.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SHELBY TRIED NOT to have too much of a spring in her step. Hard to keep her feet on the ground, though, when she was feeling so darn good. It was amazing what a night with Callen could do for a woman’s mood.

  Two nights would likely make her downright giddy.

  She couldn’t wait to find out. All she had to do was make it through this day and then she could get Callen back in her bed. This time with more than one condom.

  Smiling at that thought, Shelby pulled into the driveway in front of her dad’s. Callen’s truck was there, causing her to wince a little. He’d probably let Buck or Rosy know that he wouldn’t be bringing back Sweet Caroline until this morning, but he would have needed some kind of explanation to go along with that.

  The truth, maybe?

  And if so, when had that truth telling happened? After Callen and she had made their way to her bed, she hadn’t noticed him texting or calling anyone, but then she’d slept like a rock. Yet another perk from great sex. Of course, she couldn’t give Callen total credit for that since rock sleep was her usual mode.

  She parked her truck and was about to go inside for the dress fitting with Rosy, but then she saw Mateo and Judd. They were by the corral where there were no horses in sight, and she could tell they were talking because their breaths were fogging up the cold air.

  A trickle of alarm went through her, and she hop
ed Mateo hadn’t got into trouble or something. Judd was all cop, and he didn’t usually interact with the kids unless there was a problem.

  She didn’t exactly keep her footsteps light because she didn’t want to sneak up on them, but they didn’t pay any attention to her. As she got closer, she heard Judd dole out what was either a warning or a life lesson punctuated with some profanity.

  “Sometimes shit just happens,” Judd said to the boy. “Shit you can’t prevent.”

  Mateo looked at Judd in a way that made Shelby think he was seriously considering that. “How do you get past it?”

  “You don’t.” Judd’s tone was his usual growl, but at least it didn’t seem to be scaring the boy. “You just step over it and keep going until you find a pile of shit that doesn’t stink as bad.”

  She stopped, continued to listen and hoped she’d soon learn what had started this conversation.

  “But my sister might not be able to do that,” Mateo said. “She might not be able to step over it.”

  “Yeah, she will,” Judd assured him. “She’ll cope. You’ll cope. And you’ll sure as hell quit worrying about me shanking you. I don’t shank. When needed, I beat the shit out of people who mess with other people and do bad things.”

  “Like my mother?” Mateo asked after a long pause.

  “No. She’ll get what’s coming to her in jail. I don’t hit women because I have a dick. Men with real dicks don’t hit women. Remember that.”

  It was good advice, but Shelby hoped the boy didn’t repeat the cusswords. Of course, since Mateo had been in juvie, he’d likely already heard them.

  “Are we okay?” Judd asked.

  Mateo nodded and headed into the barn. Judd turned, and she saw his usual stern expression was a little softer today. Then it wasn’t. He squared his shoulders as he came toward her.

  Judd looked at her the way a cop would when examining a criminal suspect. “I covered for him,” he said.

  That gave her a quick jolt of concern. “Mateo?”

  He huffed. “Callen. He texted me last night to say he wouldn’t be coming back to get his truck. I told Buck that Callen had hooked up with some friends and wouldn’t be back until morning. Yeah, I know. It reeks of BS, and my guess is Buck didn’t buy it one bit.”

  The concern was still there. Not for Mateo this time, but because Judd was right. Her father wouldn’t have bought that, and he wouldn’t be pleased that Callen had put Judd up to lying for him. Well, sort of lying. Callen had indeed hooked up, but it hadn’t been with friends.

  She gave Judd’s arm a quick squeeze. “I’ll talk to Dad,” she promised.

  Now, that took some of the shine off her still-lingering sexual buzz. Nothing like starting the morning with a confession to her father that she’d had sex.

  Shelby turned to go inside, but she stopped. “Thanks for covering for Callen. And for talking to Mateo.”

  Judd lifted his shoulder and made a sound that could have meant anything, but Shelby chose to believe it was a you’re welcome. He headed to his cabin, and Shelby went inside the house.

  And the first thing she heard was giggling.

  She followed the sound of the giggles to the family room and found Rosy standing on the coffee table, already in her wedding dress. Or rather a dress. It wasn’t the same one that Rosy had shown her about a week ago. That one had been a column of bubble gum– colored puffs that would have skimmed down Rosy’s body.

  This one was the opposite of a column. Yards of pink billowed like a massive cotton-candy cloud, and on top of the billows were thousands—maybe millions—of sequins. Also pink. And also shedding. Another million or so of those sequins were all over the floor.

  And on the seamstress, a frazzled-looking Alice Murdock.

  Alice was kneeling on the floor and appeared to be adjusting the hem, which was probably a good thing considering the dress hung well past Rosy’s feet, past the coffee table as well and nearly touched the floor. Alice had her lips pinched over a line of red pearl-head straight pins, and Lucy was next to her holding an apple-sized stuffed thing with yet even more of them. There were pink sparkly sequins clinging to Alice’s gray hair and some on her lipstick in between the pin stash. It wasn’t a flattering look.

  “Oh, you’re here,” Rosy said, motioning for Shelby to come closer. “I changed my mind and ordered a different dress. Don’t you just love it?”

  Shelby loved it only because Rosy obviously did. However, she did see an immediate concern. “Will you be able to get down the aisle?” Shelby asked.

  Rosy’s eyes widened a moment, indicating that she hadn’t considered it. The party room at the inn was going to be at maximum capacity with all the guests, so widening the aisle was out. Still, Shelby hated that she’d put the troubled look in Rosy’s eyes.

  “I’m sure we can make it work,” Shelby told her, despite not being sure of that at all. However, she made a mental note to be sure that no small children or feeble guests sat on the aisle because it was possible that Rosy could knock them down in that dress.

  “Your dress is here,” Lucy said, her voice as quiet as usual. She used the pincushion to motion toward the sofa where there were several boxes.

  Shelby kept her “this is all good” look on her face even though she’d told Rosy that she would get her own dress. She’d done that figuring it would minimize her having to wear something more suited to Rosy’s sometimes-unconventional taste.

  “Mine’s also there,” Lucy added, her pretty mouth curving into a near smile. “Miss Rosy asked me to be a bridesmaid, too.”

  Shelby didn’t have to feign a “this is all good” look this time. Because it was. Rosy was a sweetheart for doing this, and what was even more wonderful was that Rosy would be genuinely thrilled to have the girl in the wedding party.

  “The bridesmaid dresses have pockets,” Rosy told them. “I always cry at weddings, so I figured you’d want some place to carry a Kleenex or two.”

  Alice mumbled something. What exactly, Shelby didn’t know, but Rosy appeared to be bilingual when it came to pin-impeded speech. “Alice said you both need to try on the dresses so she can see if they need to be altered,” Rosy translated. “It’ll be like a mini runway show.”

  Shelby tried to gauge Lucy’s eyes to see if there was concern or excitement about that. Definitely excitement. That was good since it was a first.

  “Why don’t you let me hold the pincushion for Miss Alice,” Shelby volunteered, taking it from Lucy, “and you can go ahead and try on the dress.”

  Definitely excitement, and Shelby was so thankful that if she could have actually reached Rosy and got her arms around her, she would have given her a hug.

  Lucy picked up one of the boxes as if it were a fragile Fabergé egg and headed up the stairs. The silence came as both Alice and Rosy watched her go, clearly waiting for her to be out of earshot. Shelby was waiting for that, too, so she could gush to Rosy about what a good thing this was.

  But Shelby didn’t get a chance.

  “You spent the night with Callen,” Rosy blurted out before Shelby could say anything.

  Alice babbled something, and judging from Rosy’s nod, it was an agreement.

  Well, crud. Shelby hadn’t expected to keep her night under wraps, but she hadn’t wanted it to be the topic of a group discussion.

  “I tried to cover for Callen and you with your dad,” Rosy went on. “I said something like Callen was probably over at Nico’s or Kace’s and the night just got away from him. But Buck gave me that look that let me know that he knew what was what. He said he’d talk to Callen and you this morning.”

  Oh joy. Shelby could hardly wait.

  “Where is Dad, anyway?” Shelby asked, wondering if he was going to come in at any moment and contribute to this embarrassing situation.

  “In town at the diner,” Rosy answered. “I asked him to
go because I didn’t want him to see the dress.”

  Alice mumbled something else.

  “She said we were going to do this at my place,” Rosy translated, “but I didn’t have the floor space for it. Alice needed to be able to move around to adjust the hem.”

  It was amazing that Rosy had got all of that from just a few mumbles.

  “So, do you want to tell me about your night with Callen?” Rosy asked, giving Shelby a wink and a smile.

  She’d rather get a quarter-sized zit in the middle of her forehead, but Shelby thankfully didn’t have to come up with an answer that didn’t sound so snarky. That was because Lucy came back down the stairs. Shelby had already prepped herself to say how much she loved the dress, but fudging or outright lying wasn’t necessary. It was, well, perfect.

  There were no gobs of anything, including sequins. It was just a beautiful dress with sheer long sleeves that matched the deep red color of the dress itself. It hung without clinging, and Shelby figured it would look good on a person of any age.

  “It’s beautiful,” Shelby said as Rosy blurted out a teary, gushy, “You’re a vision, Lucy. Simply a vision.”

  Alice mumbled something, and since Rosy was so enraptured by Lucy, she didn’t translate it.

  “Thank you,” Lucy said, but her voice no longer seemed so shy, and she made eye contact with Rosy while she continued to stand on the bottom step of the stairs. “I’ve never had a dress this pretty. Thank you,” she repeated, and this time, Shelby was reasonably sure that it included more than just her gratitude for the dress.

  “I couldn’t get it zipped up all the way,” Lucy added a moment later. “That’s why I can’t do the runway show. My, uh, back is showing some.”

  Shelby quickly put aside the pincushion and went to her to remedy that. “You really look amazing,” she told the girl, and she motioned for Lucy to turn so she could get to the zipper.

  Lucy didn’t budge, and after a few long moments, she finally looked Shelby in the eyes. “I have scars,” Lucy whispered. “Please, I don’t want Miss Rosy and Miss Alice to see them.”