Lone Star Christmas

by Delores Fossen

  “Uh” was what he managed.

  Not exactly his fault, though, for the nonstellar response. There was a contributing circumstance when the sliding continued, and her lower body brushed against the front of his jeans. The next contributing circumstance, however, came from the nudge she gave him. A wicked, willpower-draining nudge that nearly caused his eyes to cross.

  “I’d rather not talk if you don’t mind,” she said. Had her voice taken on a silky sex tone, or was that his imagination?

  It was her actual voice.

  Callen became sure of that when he realized there wasn’t enough thought power left in his brain to have an imagination. His dick had got in on this, and common sense and such vanished with his erection.

  “You’d better have a condom,” Shelby added, obviously breaking her own don’t talk rule.

  Callen nodded but couldn’t mention that he had two in his wallet because he kissed her. Yeah, he was weak, but her mouth was right there in front of him. Her hot, sultry mouth that urged him on when she deepened the kiss.

  He did some deepening, too. And touching. Again, because she was right there, he slid his hand between them and ran his fingers over her nipples. They weren’t hard to find because they were puckered and tight, straining against her bra and top. He helped with that by yanking off her top and shoving down her bra. He helped himself by lowering the kiss to her nipples.

  Very sensitive nipples, he soon discovered.

  She moaned, the same silky sex tone as her voice, and Shelby threw back her head, surrendering to the pleasure. But she didn’t just surrender. Her now-bowed body smushed her zipper to his, which in turned pressed his erection in the one place it wanted to be. Minus their clothes, of course.

  Callen would have been content to delay the clothing removal while he nibbled at her nipples, but the urgency kicked in for Shelby. The need for him to give her more than just his tongue and mouth. She gave him a clear signal by putting her hand on his dick and squeezing. She added some sliding moves in there, too, her hand working him hard enough that the urgency soared for him, too.

  Callen shifted, putting his arms around her so he could drag them both to the floor. He considered the bed, briefly considered it, but he doubted Shelby was going to wait for that. She was already unzipping him and landing some damn effective if not manic kisses on his neck.

  He had to pause what he was sure were some damn effective kisses of his own so that he could get her out of her clothes. He had a head start above the waist, but he went after her jeans. Not his finest finessing effort to undress a woman. That was because of her boots. They had to come off first before he could peel off her jeans and panties.

  And he found exactly what he wanted.

  Callen would have landed a few kisses there, too, but Shelby’s string of profanity grabbed his attention. She’d got off his belt but was struggling with his boots. With a final curse word, she gave up, unzipped him and freed him from his boxers. Judging from the way she took hold of him, the rest of his clothes were going to stay on.

  “Condom,” she ground out, taking his wallet from his back pocket. And just in case he’d missed the urgency, she proceeded to kiss and suck his neck to let him know she wanted this to happen now.

  Since that only whipped up an even-bigger fire inside him, Callen tried to give her now as fast as he could. He got on the condom. How, he didn’t know. It wasn’t easy doing such a complex task with a kissing, moaning, naked woman beneath him.

  Especially this woman.

  Shelby was his definition of urgency and whipped-up fire.

  Because he was finally in the right position, he kissed her when he plunged into her, and his mouth caught one of those incredible moans of pleasure. Man, he’d remember that for a long time. He’d remember the rest of it, too.

  There was pleasure, of course. So much pleasure. That kick of a primal need so strong that it made everything else melt away. It pinpointed his focus to her, just her, and the maddening strokes that would feed the need, along with making this end all too soon.

  He could slow it some by easing up on the thrusts, but Shelby didn’t make that easy for him when he tried it. She lifted her hips, hooking her legs around him and pushing him in deeper. To give herself what she needed.

  Her climax didn’t come as a ripple but more like a flash fire. Instant, hot. Thorough. Her long moan of pleasure turned to one of relief. The pressure-cooker heat was sated, for the time being, anyway.

  Callen had to fight to stop her climax from giving him his own flash fire. All those wet muscles tightening and pulsing around his erection. Hard to fight it when his body just wanted to surrender. Still, he held on a little longer so he could kiss her and taste the relief and pleasure she’d just taken from him.

  He gathered her in his arms, dropped his face into the curve of her neck and finally let go.

  * * *

  NAKED, SHELBY LAY in bed and listened to the sound of the water as Callen took a shower. She’d considered joining him in there but had wanted a few moments to herself to work out the muddle going on in her head.

  Way too much muddle.

  But she knew it would have been a whole lot worse without the sex. Callen was likely feeling as if he’d taken advantage of her or some such nonsense. But it was just that—nonsense. She’d wanted to be with him, a sort of cleansing the mental palate, and it had worked like a charm. A good orgasm was priceless. A good orgasm from Callen was priceless and...

  Complicated.

  Not for her. Shelby had already worked out her feelings in that area. She wanted him, and he seemed willing to fulfill her want in a very incredible way.

  However, Callen was a decent man, and he would no doubt go on a guilt trip. Not just for having sex with her when she was at a low point but also because he would know she was dealing with the fallout from her father’s latest secret.

  Sheez. Who knew Buck could be so sneaky? And enlist Callen in that sneakiness? Well, she certainly knew it now. Shelby also knew something else. Something that would add to that complicated set of feelings Callen was having right about now.

  I am falling in love with you.

  She winced. She probably could have come up with a different way of reacting to what her father had mumbled to Callen when they’d visited in the recovery room. A chuckle at the absurdity of it would have done it. Or maybe just a gaping, stunned silence. Instead, she had said those words. Words that struck fear into the hearts of men like Callen.

  Obviously, though, sex had overcome that fear some, thank goodness. Now maybe the orgasm had helped soothe him as much as it had her. If not, she would go for a second round of sex. He’d left his wallet on the nightstand, and she could see another condom peeking out of it.

  And she could also see Elvira peeking around the door as if checking to make sure it was all clear so she could hog her portion of the bed. Shelby could have sworn the cat rolled her feline eyes when Callen came out of the bathroom. Elvira meowed what could only be a protest and sauntered away.

  Shelby certainly didn’t protest. Callen smelled great. Looked great, too, with his hair all damp and tousled. But the best part was that he was wearing only a towel. One that was barely large enough to cover the parts of him he’d tried to cover. When he walked toward her, Shelby got an incredible peep show.

  “You look...distracted,” he said.

  She just kept her focus on the peeping. “I am.” She didn’t meet his eyes until he sat on the bed next to her. “You’re the best possible distraction.”

  Unlike her I am falling in love with you, that made him smile. Of course it did. It smacked of lust rather than any kind of complication.

  He leaned in, gave her a scorcher of a kiss and was still smiling when he pulled back. Smiling and studying her as if trying to figure out if the distraction sex had helped or hurt.

  It had definitely helped
.

  “I used to fantasize about you when you were still at the ranch,” she admitted. “But with my then-limited fantasy fodder, it only involved kisses and getting naked.”

  His eyebrow rose. “How old were you when you had these fantasies?”

  “Age thirteen to sixteen. And then when you left the ranch, age sixteen to...now.”

  She caught his naughty chuckle with her mouth when she kissed him, and she made a naughty sound of her own when she flicked that towel off his hips and pulled him to her.

  Specifically, on top of her.

  If she’d planned it better, she would have tossed back the sheet covering her, but that could happen later. For now, she just kissed him and slid her hands and fingers along his bare back. Oh, the muscles. How they quivered and reacted to her touch. Especially the ones on his superior butt. She kept it slow and easy, but it was definitely rebuilding a fire.

  Callen took over the kissing, giving her an amazing one before he lifted his head and looked down at her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  It didn’t kill the mood. That would have been next to impossible. But Shelby felt the downer nudge that she was going to have to answer him rather than move the sheet and have her way with him.

  “I’m fine,” she said, but he was going to want details. “I don’t blame myself for my mother leaving, but I wish my dad had told me.”

  He studied her a moment longer. “Are you mad at him? At me?”

  She had to consider that. “Neither. I’m sure it’ll cause me some low moments, but I think it’s worse right now because it came on the heels of Dad’s surgery.”

  Callen sighed, brushed a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

  If she could have shrugged she would have, but with Callen on top of her that would have been hard to do. “I suspect my dad will feel bad about the way he spilled it.” And she paused. “Which is why I don’t want you to say anything about it. I doubt he’ll remember it, and we can maybe just keep it between us until he’s recovered.”

  His eyebrow came up again. “Are you asking me to keep a secret?”

  “I am,” she admitted. “There’s just something about you. A secret magnet.” She paused. “You’re sure you’re not keeping any others?”

  “Positive. No others.”

  “Not even secrets about Christmas presents?” she teased.

  He got that startled look. An oh-shit. “I haven’t really had time to shop yet. Or to tell Havana to shop for me.”

  “No worries. I haven’t had time, either.” Though she wouldn’t mention she had ordered some things from the internet. Including a gift for Callen.

  He continued to study her, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek while looking deep in her eyes.

  Uh-oh.

  She could feel it coming. And it came, all right.

  “You told me you were falling in love with me,” he said, his words slow and cautious. Shelby bet he’d practiced saying this in the shower. “You did that to push me away.”

  The relief that came was almost as good as an orgasm. Almost. “Yes!” she said with entirely too much enthusiasm. “But it clearly didn’t work because here you are in my bed, wearing only your birthday suit and a smile.”

  And he was indeed smiling. Probably from relief, too, but it could have also had something to do with her hand sliding down between them to find him hard, huge and ready.

  He gave a very manly grunt of approval and pleasure but still managed to ask, “So, we’re okay?”

  “Absolutely. Callen, don’t worry. I’m not falling in love with you.”

  Not a lie. That was because she was already in love with him.

  But thankfully Shelby had no chance to blurt that out because of Callen’s well-timed, speech-robbing kiss.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ONCE AGAIN SHELBY found herself pacing and waiting. This time for the results of her father’s biopsy.

  She could say with absolute certainty that pacing/waiting wasn’t nearly as stress relieving as sex with Callen. Since sex couldn’t happen, though, in her dad’s hospital room, pacing was her most suitable outlet.

  Callen wasn’t pacing with her this time. He was standing behind a seated Rosy, who was going over details of tables and floral arrangements for the reception. She’d done charts for both venues, the hospital cafeteria and the inn. Heck, Rosy had done charts for pretty much everything, but the one thing not in her plans was postponing this wedding. As far as Rosy was concerned, this wedding and reception were going full speed ahead.

  Shelby was somewhat less convinced of that.

  Her father’s color was better, and he was sitting up now, but he had just had surgery, and with the wedding only four days away, she didn’t believe that would be enough recovery time. Neither did Dr. Breland.

  When Shelby and the doctor had voiced their concerns—multiple times—Rosy had simply made another chart showing Shelby and anyone else who’d look suitable paths for Buck to be wheeled down the respective aisle. Buck had agreed with everything his bride had suggested even when the suggestion was a questionable one.

  “Billy will go here,” Rosy said, pointing out the armadillo’s spot in the seating arrangement.

  Both Callen and Buck looked at it as if it were riveting information, but Shelby suspected their minds were on what was occupying hers. The test results that would either have them limp with fear or limp with relief.

  She was counting heavily on the latter.

  It caused her stomach to jitter to think that in the next few minutes, their lives could turn on a dime. If it was cancer... But Shelby cut off that thought before it could fully form. Something she’d been doing for the past two days. Thankfully, Callen had cooperated with an adequate amount of sex to help keep her distracted.

  And he’d also helped by not mentioning that whole l-word issue again.

  Shelby didn’t want that to change. She didn’t want that to play into anything that was happening here or that would happen in four days. When the wedding was over, Callen needed to feel that she wasn’t going to lapse into a puddle of tears when he packed up and went back to Dallas. And she wouldn’t do that.

  Well, not until after he’d left, anyway.

  Then all bets were off.

  Callen still had some favors to do for her dad. One favor, anyway. Finding a good home for Lucy and Mateo. So far, he seemed to have a big goose egg when it came to that, but she knew he was trying. Havana had mentioned it, too, when she’d said Callen had been making daily calls to his social-worker friend.

  Shelby didn’t know what Callen would do if a home for the kids didn’t pan out, but he wouldn’t just ditch the duty. That meant she’d need to get involved. She’d have to agree to take Lucy and Mateo so that Callen could get on with his life in Dallas.

  That jittered her stomach, too. Sometimes, love sucked.

  “We’re up to forty-one bridesmaids now,” Rosy said, beaming. “I bought them all little Santa earrings and necklaces, and they’ll each be carrying a poinsettia instead of a bouquet.”

  Apparently, size mattered to Rosy when it came to bridal parties, though Shelby wondered if anyone would be able to see the bride with all those maids cluttered around. Still, if this wedding went off according to either one of the plans, it would be sort of a family reunion/wedding/Christmas Eve celebration.

  Shelby was still in the pacing mode when the door opened and Dr. Breland walked in. Even though they’d all been expecting the doctor, there was sort of a stunned silence that fell over the room, and all of them combed their gazes over the doc’s face as if trying to get a preview of what he was about to tell them.

  Dr. Breland shut the door and stepped in the center of the room. “It’s cancer,” he said.

  For two little words, they sure packed a nasty wallop, and Shelby was wishi
ng she’d been sitting for it.

  Cancer.

  Her father had cancer.

  She caught onto the bed rail and tried not to look scared out of her mind. That wouldn’t help her father or anyone else.

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Breland added, his attention on Buck now.

  Rosy muttered her usual “Oh dear,” while Callen pressed his hand on her shoulder. Callen was obviously trying to stave off a “scared out of his mind” look, too, but the muscles tightened and flexed in his jaw.

  “We believe we got all the cancer during the surgery,” the doctor went on. “That’s the good news, but there’s an asterisk. Buck will need treatment, both radiation and chemo. And, no, it shouldn’t wait until after the wedding,” he said when Buck opened his mouth.

  The good news was, well, beyond good even with the asterisk. They’d got the cancer. They’d got it. The relief of that weakened her knees even more, but Shelby managed to go to her father so she could be closer to him.

  “I’m not going to die from this,” Buck murmured. So much relief there, too, and it made her realize just how well he’d been covering his worry. She wanted to both kiss him and throttle him for that.

  Shelby went with the kiss, and she held on to him, hugging him and whispering a prayer of thanks. It went along with all those other prayers she’d already sent up for him.

  Rosy also went in for a hug and kiss, spreading that to Callen and her, and they spent a couple of moments just gathering their breaths.

  “What are the symptoms of the treatments?” Callen asked the doctor after he’d gathered his.

  “It varies from patient to patient. Fatigue and nausea are the most common. It could compromise Buck’s immune system, so it wouldn’t be a good idea for him to be around a lot of people.”

  “Well,” Rosy said. “Well,” she repeated, and there wasn’t so much of her usual rosiness now.

  Her dad’s deeply sorrowed expression mirrored that, and he muttered soft words of apology to Rosy. Giving her comfort. Comfort that he extended to Callen and her with long looks.