A Coyote Ridge Christmas (The Walkers of Coyote Ridge, 7)

by Edwards, Nicole

Sliding his hands back, he shifted his fingers so they were beneath the hem of the T-shirt, where it rested on her thighs. He inched upward as she continued to rain kisses on his neck.

  “You’re a dirty girl, Mrs. Walker,” he whispered when he realized she wasn’t wearing panties.

  “It’s your fault, Mr. Walker.”

  The sound of a throat clearing made Travis smile, but he didn’t turn his head to look at Gage. “Join us,” he insisted.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he said softly, coming to stand behind the couch, at Travis’s back.

  Kylie pulled back, and Travis knew she was watching Gage.

  His husband’s warm hand curled around his neck, massaging gently. Travis tilted his head forward, encouraging Gage to touch.

  “Mmm. I like where this is headed,” their wife said, giggling softly.

  Heat slammed into Travis when he realized Gage had freed his cock from his jeans and Kylie was taking him in her mouth. His vision was restricted because she was on his lap, but he didn’t need eyes. The sounds of her mouth working Gage over were more than enough to entice him.

  Instinct had him glancing at the stairs, ensuring there were no shorties headed their way. When he was satisfied the kids weren’t going to interrupt, Travis reached between his body and Kylie’s, pushing his sweatpants down. His wife knew exactly what he was doing, because she lifted up, gave him room to work as he forced the cotton down his thighs.

  He wrapped one arm around her back, pulling her against him as he guided his rock-hard erection to her sweet, warm heat.

  “Sit on my cock, baby,” he urged, nuzzling her neck.

  Kylie moaned softly, shifting her hips forward, spreading her knees wide so he could slide into the heaven of her body, never stopping what she was doing.

  Travis groaned as her silky heat enveloped him, but it wasn’t enough.

  Needing to watch what she was doing, Travis repositioned his upper body, leaning into the cushion so he could watch as she wrapped her lips around Gage while she worked herself onto his cock. Gage’s hand was fisting in Travis’s hair, as though he needed to touch him.

  Their ministrations were a feast for the eyes, perhaps more so than the unbelievable friction of her body as she sheathed him inside her. Not wanting to break her stride, Travis guided her hips, pushing deep inside her as he pulled her closer, retreating when he shifted her back. Travis looked up, watched the pleasure contort Gage’s face as he fucked their wife’s mouth with long, deep strokes.

  Travis knew he would relive this moment for days because he always did. Whenever the three of them were together, didn’t matter what they were doing, he thought about it endlessly, and it always ended the same. With him smiling, grateful for the life he’d been granted despite the obstacles they’d had to overcome.

  Kylie’s soft moans turned to insistent whimpers, her body vibrating. Travis worked his hands beneath the T-shirt, cupped her heavy breasts, causing those pleading mewls to increase.

  “I’m gonna come in your mouth,” Gage warned her, his voice raspy with need.

  Kylie gave him a murmur of approval, her body rocking more intently.

  Wanting to send her over at the same time, Travis gripped her hip with one hand, slid the other between their bodies, his thumb seeking her clit. When he pressed the tiny bundle of nerves, Kylie whimpered and moaned. And when he drove his hips upward, filling her completely, she panted, her mouth falling open.

  Gage’s fingers linked in her hair, holding her in place as he chased his release. Travis did the same, every muscle in his body coiling tightly as Kylie’s pussy clamped down on him. He could feel her body vibrating, knew she was close.

  Travis met Gage’s eyes. The heat and love he saw there threatened to snap his control. He grunted as he slammed his hips up, back, up, back, holding Kylie in place so he could go deeper.

  A feral growl sounded from Gage at the same time Kylie’s pussy locked onto his cock, milking him as she came. Travis let himself go, his body shuddering as his release barreled through him.

  When they were finished, Travis pulled Kylie down with him as he held up a hand, signaling Gage to join them.

  As they had a million times over the years, Gage eased onto the couch, the three of them piled in a heap, too tired to move, too blissed out to care.

  “Merry Christmas,” he whispered with a smile.

  Even as he accepted he was happier than he’d ever been, Travis couldn’t help wondering how he could make their next Christmas even better than this one.

  *

  Sunday, December 29, 2019

  Mack walked through his front door a little after three in the morning. He was exhausted, ready to fall into bed. He’d put in a full night at Moonshiners, dealing with the rowdy crowd pre-celebrating the coming of the new year.

  He would have headed right for his bed if he could’ve gotten his mind to shut off. Instead, he snatched the open bottle of Jack Daniels he’d left on the kitchen table and detoured back to the living room, dropped onto the couch. Though the remote was in reach, he didn’t bother to turn on the television. There wasn’t anything that could distract his thoughts, so it wasn’t worth the energy.

  With Christmas over, the day-to-day grind back in full swing, Mack should’ve had enough to keep him busy. Even with New Year’s looming in the not-so-distant future, he found there was nothing to look forward to.

  He uncapped the whiskey, took a long pull on the bottle. After the liquid blazed fire down his throat and into his belly, Mack let his head fall back. He was inundated with memories of the night he’d spent with Jeff at the resort. More times than he could count, he’d picked up his cell phone, wanting to send the man a text, request his company, but every time, he’d backed out.

  It was pointless, after all.

  There was no happily ever after for Mack. Not with Jeff anyway.

  Not anymore.

  Unfortunately, Mack had made a promise to Daniel that he would consider what his son had proposed: sell the bar, move to Austin, spend more time with his son. While he loved Jeff, he was duty-bound to love his son more, so he knew he had to take the high road even if he had to forsake his own happiness to do so.

  He groaned, lifting his head and downing more whiskey, desperate to dull the ache in his chest. Eventually he would numb out, though it would likely take the entire bottle. It took more these days, but he didn’t mind drowning himself in the better part of a fifth of whiskey to accomplish his goal. After all, he had nothing better to do.

  Mack was getting rather comfortable, his lips maintaining a steady connection with the bottle when his phone buzzed. He shifted, dragging it out of his back pocket, wondering how he hadn’t broken the damn thing yet.

  His vision was wavering as he glanced at the screen.

  Jeff: Unlock your front door.

  Mack stared at the phone, confused. He never locked his door, so why did he—

  A soft rap sounded and he turned his attention to the wood as it opened.

  When Jeff appeared, Mack couldn’t even muster the energy to move.

  He knew what he looked like. His beard was scraggly, hair likely sticking up all over the place. The fifth of Jack was balancing precariously on his thigh, his eyes likely bloodshot from a mixture of alcohol and exhaustion.

  “You can’t be here,” Mack slurred, but didn’t bother to move. He didn’t have the energy.

  Jeff stepped into the house, closed and locked the door behind him.

  Mack glared at him. “You need to leave.”

  The sheriff looked like the officer of the law he was, all decked out in his brown-on-brown uniform. No one looked good in brown. Well, no one but Jeff. He looked good in anything. He looked better in nothing.

  Fucking hell.

  To his shock, Jeff began removing his clothes right there in Mack’s living room, starting with his belt.

  Mack stared, unable to look away, wondering if this was a dream. He sure as hell hoped so, because Jeff had no business being
there. What if Daniel showed up? The kid did so from time to time, pretending he was just dropping by to check in when Mack knew it was more because he was keeping tabs, ensuring Mack wasn’t doing anything he wasn’t supposed to.

  Which seemed to be anything that made him happy.

  Mack grunted when Jeff removed the bottle from his hand, set it on the rickety end table beside the cheap brass lamp that Mack couldn’t even remember buying but that had decorated the room for the past two decades.

  He met and held the sheriff’s hazel eyes, tempted to tell him to get the hell out, but the words wouldn’t form in his mouth.

  Oh, no. Mack was more of a glutton for punishment than he thought, because instead of standing his ground, he sat up, reached for the waistband on Jeff’s pants, and tugged him closer.

  Like Daniel told him, he was probably going to hell, but if that was the case, Mack intended to do so with a fucking smile on his face. After all, it wouldn’t matter in the long run, because Mack knew he would end up letting his son dictate his actions. Could be a week, a month. Six. Eventually, he would sell the bar, say goodbye to his friends, and put this dusty little town in his rearview along with the sexy fucking sheriff who owned him heart, body, and soul.

  But before that happened, he could indulge himself.

  Yes, tonight he could indulge.

  Tomorrow he could seek forgiveness.

  Check out a sample of MACK (The Walkers of Coyote Ridge, 8) coming March 3, 2020. Available for preorder.

  Prologue

  Four years ago…

  Staring at his phone, Michael “Mack” Schwartz felt a cold chill slither down his spine. The kind caused by tragedy, loss, anything that resulted in emotional devastation.

  Daniel: We need to talk. Today.

  “Everything all right?”

  Jerking his attention away from the cell, Mack looked up at Jeff, forced a smile. “Yeah. Of course.”

  Mack could see the doubt, the concern in Jeff’s hazel eyes. It seemed to be there all the time now, and Mack wondered if he felt it, too. Something was about to happen, something that would change the course of their lives forever. Which, honestly, sucked major ass, because Mack was too damn old for this shit. Granted, age was merely a number, not a barometer. At fifty-two, he honestly felt as though he’d just started living his life.

  With Jeff.

  Only shit had gone awry a couple of months ago, back when Mack had stupidly inquired about Alluring Indulgence Resort. He’d been curious, no reason to deny it. And his curiosity had turned out to be the sparks that would soon burn his world to the ground. Since that night at the resort, rumors had begun to spread through Coyote Ridge, rumors claiming Mack and Jeff were together, something they’d done well to hide for the three years they’d been dating.

  It wasn’t that Mack gave a shit who knew, but he knew they had to keep it on the DL because Jeff was in the public eye, the sheriff of Coyote Ridge. It was an electable position, which meant Jeff had to appeal to the masses or he risked losing the career he’d worked so hard to establish. The thought of Jeff going down in those flames … it caused an ache Mack wasn’t sure he could deal with.

  “Well, I’ll see you tonight,” Jeff said softly, stepping toward him.

  Mack knew he was waiting for a kiss, so he reluctantly offered one because sending him off into the dangers of his job without it was like telling the man he didn’t care, and that couldn’t be further from the truth.

  After Jeff left for work, Mack locked up the man’s house, got in his truck, and headed for Moonshiners. For the first time in a damn long time, he dreaded the thought of going into work. Not only because he knew he would garner a few stares because people were now curious as to what he was doing behind closed doors, but more so because he knew he would have to deal with Daniel. Anytime the boy demanded they talk, it never ended well. For the past thirteen years, their relationship had been on rocky ground. Ever since Daniel learned that Mack was gay, a secret Daniel’s mother had promised to keep. Not that Mack blamed her for telling the boy the truth. It wasn’t her fault even if she’d gone about it the wrong way. In a perfect world, Mack would’ve been the one to tell him.

  But they all knew the world wasn’t perfect.

  Not even close.

  When Mack pulled into Moonshiners, the parking lot was empty as usual this early. He drove through the gravel lot and parked at the back, using the rear entrance to get inside. As he went through, flipping on the lights, his gut tightened into knots. He wanted to call Daniel, to tell the boy he didn’t have time to talk tonight, but it would’ve been a lie, and Mack had made a point not to lie to the kid. Not ever again.

  He made a detour into the small office he rarely used, unlocked the safe, and retrieved the cash box he kept inside. He transferred some of the bills to the register he kept beneath the bar, then turned on the credit card machine so it would be ready for the customers once they came in. He was about to head to the stockroom to unload yesterday’s delivery when there was a pounding on the front door.

  Dread made his stomach churn, but he forced his boots to carry him to the door. Using the key tethered to his belt loop, he unlocked the door, pushed it open. The glare of the setting sun backlit Daniel, casting his face in shadow as the boy stepped inside. Mack didn’t need to see his face to know he was angry. It was etched into the tense lines of his shoulders, the clenched fists at his sides.

  “Hey,” Mack greeted softly, not bothering to lock the door behind him. He got the feeling Daniel wouldn’t be staying long.

  Daniel spun around to face him. “Why’d you do it?”

  Mack stopped, met Daniel’s blue stare. “Do what?”

  “Make a mockery of yourself?”

  The heat in his son’s words threatened to singe Mack’s beard, but he held his ground. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

  “You think it’s funny that the whole town thinks you’re an abomination?”

  Mack frowned, but his throat was too tight for any words to escape.

  Daniel pivoted away from him, marched toward the bar only to stomp back toward him.

  “I don’t even live here and I’m up to speed on the fact that you’re a laughingstock in this town. You and the sheriff, Dad? You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Couldn’t simply keep that shit locked up tight. You had to go and let the world know.”

  Mack’s shock turned to anger, but he held on to it. Daniel had every right to be angry with him.

  “It ends now,” Daniel demanded, his eyes blazing with hatred. “If you want a relationship with me, this bullshit with the sheriff ends now. Tonight.”

  Mack swallowed past the lump in his throat.

  “You owe me this,” Daniel insisted. “You lied to me growing up, then I had to hear it from my mother. She didn’t bother to sugarcoat her thoughts on it, either, Dad. You’re an abomination. Soiled and dirty and you used her.”

  Used her? Mack was confused. He’d never used Meredith. Granted, he’d done his best to love her, but he’d never been able to do it. Not because she wasn’t worthy but because … because Mack had always known deep down he couldn’t love a woman. He wasn’t built that way. And yes, he had failed her epically, but he’d done right by his son. Truth was, he loved Daniel more than he loved himself, and the only thing he’d ever wanted was for his son to be happy.

  “If you don’t end it with him, you’ll never see me again,” Daniel seethed.

  “Daniel, please don’t—”

  “I mean it. End it with him so this town stops thinkin’ you’re some sort of deviant, Dad. You owe me that much.”

  Inhaling deeply, Mack tried to relax even as his heart constricted in his chest. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was having a heart attack. But this wasn’t a cardiac event that could be detected on a machine. After all, broken hearts couldn’t be seen on an X-ray or an MRI.

  Daniel took a step closer, locked eyes with Mack. “Prove to me that I mean more to you than anyone el
se.”

  “Okay,” he said softly.

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll break it off with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tonight. I don’t want to find out you’ve spent another night with him, understand?”

  Mack nodded.

  “But don’t think for a second this makes up for the hell you’ve put me through,” Daniel said, his voice rough with his anger.

  “I don’t,” he assured his boy. “And I’m sorry.”

  “You should be. But I promise, you’ll be making this up to me for a long damn time.”

  It would be years before Mack truly understood how sincere Daniel was about that promise.

  Preorder now! Available March 3, 2020

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Of course, I have to thank my wonderfully patient husband who puts up with me every single day. If it wasn’t for him and his belief that I could (and can) do this, I wouldn’t be writing this today. He has been my backbone, my rock, the very reason I continue to believe in myself. I love you for that, babe.

  I also have to thank my street team – Naughty (and nice) Girls – Your unwavering support is something I will never take for granted.

  I can’t forget my copyeditor, Amy at Blue Otter Editing. Thank goodness I’ve got you to catch all my punctuation, grammar, and tense errors.

  Nicole Nation 2.0 for the constant support and love. You’ve been there for me from almost the beginning. This group of ladies has kept me going for so long, I’m not sure I’d know what to do without them.

  And, of course, YOU, the reader. Your emails, messages, posts, comments, tweets… they mean more to me than you can imagine. I thrive on hearing from you, knowing that my characters and my stories have touched you in some way keeps me going. I’ve been known to shed a tear or two when reading an email because you simply bring so much joy to my life with your support. I thank you for that.

  ABOUT NICOLE EDWARDS

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nicole Edwards lives in the suburbs of Austin, Texas with her husband and their youngest of three children. The two older ones have flown the coup, while the youngest is in high school. When Nicole is not writing about sexy alpha males and sassy, independent women, she can often be found with a book in hand or attempting to keep the dogs happy. You can find her hanging out on social media and interacting with her readers - even when she's supposed to be writing.