“It’ll melt—”
“Oh shut up,” Charlotte said. “It’s not melting and you’re not going anywhere. Deal with it.”
Tamara crossed her arms over her enormous breasts and pouted. “Hey, it’s all gravy to me. Now I have a real reason not to deal with Russell tonight.”
“Says the woman who packed him an overnight bag, just in case,” Charlotte teased.
“All that means was I was doing my wifely duties by preparing for the worst, but crisis averted. He stays there, I’ll stay here. Problem solved.”
“Think again.” There was a devilish grin in her husband’s blue eyes that let Charlotte know everything wasn’t as it seemed.
Tamara frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I just got off the phone with him. He’s on his way over here now.”
“No,” Tamara said with dying hope.
“He was halfway here when he called so I’m willing to bet you got twenty minutes at best to find a good hiding spot.”
Tamara snorted. “I’m not hiding from nobody.” When neither Charlotte nor Ty contradicted her…she began to fidget. “I’m going go…find baby girl and see what’s she’s doing.”
“Don’t bring my baby into your drama.”
“I’m not. We’re just about to watch TV, upstairs, in the guestroom…with the door locked.”
“Chicken,” Charlotte teased.
“Eat me.” Tamara stuck her tongue out as she made her way to the door.
Charlotte laughed as she watched her friend waddle from the room. Tamara talked a good game but that was all it ever was. There was going to be a showdown at the Dollar Ranch tonight and Charlotte couldn’t wait for it to begin.
Ty dropped one more quick kiss on Charlotte’s upturned lips before heading to the refrigerator and taking out a beer. He twisted the top off then took a long drink from the chilled bottle before leaning back against the door and watching his wife transfer the pie into the oven. The sweet smell of Southern cooking began to fill the air and it was arguably one of the only bright parts of this day.
Charlotte closed the oven then set the timer before standing and stretching her lower back. She caught the expression on Ty’s face and frowned. “You okay, baby?”
He had a lot going on in his head, but nothing so daunting that he wanted to worry her, but after five years of marriage he knew better than to just say nothing. He wasn’t stupid after all. “Yes, I was just hoping this storm would pass right over us.”
Charlotte set the oven mitts down near the stove. “At least we’ll get the white Christmas we’re always talking about.”
That was his baby. Glass half full all the time. He loved that about her. He needed it from her because sometimes he had a hard time seeing the good in anything that wasn’t his two girls. Even now, he couldn’t stop himself from being a little pessimistic. “Yeah, but at what cost?”
“The horses will be fine. The men will be fine. In fact, the only person I’m worried that might not be fine is Tamara.”
Ty moved closer to her as he took another drink. “Worry makes you smile like that, does it?”
Charlotte laughed. “Okay, worried was maybe not the exact word I was looking for.”
“I bet it wasn’t.” He cased her around the island until her back was to the counter and his was facing the stove.
“Whatever are you implying, kind sir?” she said coyly.
Her full, pouty lips were turned up in a smile, just begging to be kissed, but he wasn’t going to give in to temptation just yet. “If I didn’t know better,” Ty paused to tuck a thick black curl of her chin-length hair behind her ear. She was finally growing it out and he couldn’t stop playing with the soft, natural curls she wore. “I’d say you were looking forward to this evening.”
Her pretty brown eyes twinkled with excitement. “You know me so well. I. Can’t. Wait.”
“Something is seriously wrong with you.”
“You just now noticing that?”
“No.” Ty set the beer bottle on the island then took hold of her hips. He lifted her with ease and sat her on the island. She was as light as she had been the day they met, even if certain parts of her were fuller. But he didn’t mind fuller. Perfection was for air-brushed men’s magazines. What he had was a real woman, who had given birth to his child and whose body had been changed forever because of it. She was more beautiful to him today than she was the day they met, and that was saying something. “There is absolutely nothing about you that I haven’t noticed.”
Charlotte licked her lips. “Oh yeah, like what?”
“Like you enjoy the madness of our friends’ crazy marriage.”
“It’s not mad nor is it crazy. It’s fun. They love each other to pieces but they’re still trying to figure it out. I just want to be their Yoda.”
“You don’t want to be Yoda, you want to be nosey.”
“Stop it.”
“You stop it. Don’t think for a second either Russell or I believe Tamara just got it in her head to come over. Admit it. You were afraid the storm would keep her home and she wouldn’t be here for Christmas.”
“I admit nothing.”
“You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face. You two hate to be apart.”
“What’s so wrong with that?”
“Nothing, if it could be peaceful.” Ty stepped between the vee of her legs and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her lower half a little bit closer to his harder half. He leaned forward and nuzzled the side of her neck in the manner he knew drove her insane. “Why must we always find our way into the midst of their drama?”
She trembled in his arms but held fast to her point. “Because we’re family and that’s the sort of thing family does.”
“Why can’t we do those other things families do? Awkward phone calls on birthdays and holidays and keep it like that?” He gently licked the shell of her ear and blew softly over it, never in it, putting just enough pressure behind it to cause her to shiver and shake.
“Because…because…” It took two tries before she was able to get the sentence out. “Because she’s not just my sister from another mister, she’s not only our daughter’s godmother, she’s also my best friend in the entire world. Asking me not to want her around every second of the day would be like me asking you not to get a hard on when I walk into the room naked.”
Ty’s cock stiffened at the idea. How could it not? His wife’s nude mocha-tinged skin was the thing sonnets were written about. “Impossible.”
“Exactly.”
“Look, the Good Lord knows I would never, ever try to get between the black version of Thelma and Louis especially since, if I recall correctly, one of the dudes died, I’m just saying there are other ways of getting her here for the holidays.”
“Then we’ll have to practice them next year because I already have this year covered.”
“You’re a spoiled brat. You know that, right?”
“Who do you think made me this way?”
“I take full responsibility.” Ty placed his hands on the end of her dress and slowly began to drag it up. “I’m thinking that since I’ve been a very good boy this year, Santa should reward me a little early.”
Charlotte shifted from side to side so he could pull the dress up and past her thighs, leaving just enough to cover her bottom but still giving him enough playing room. “And what did you ask Santa for?”
“You.” Ty rubbed his fingertips down from the top of her thighs to her kneecap before working his way back up her inner thigh. He took his time, not just to arouse her but because he never grew tired of watching the way his pale flesh looked against her darker skin. Even after all these years he still found the sight extremely sensual.
Her thighs quivered as she took in a shaky breath, drawing his fingers just a bit farther up. “You already got me.”
Unable to resist, he went for it. He slipped his hand under her dress and rubbed the back of his knuckles against her pussy-co
vered panties. Much to his delight, they were slightly damp. At least he wasn’t the only one feeling the holiday spirit. “What do you think the chances are I can pull these down,” he said as he tugged slightly on the crotch, “and push inside you before anyone interrupts us?”
“I think,” she panted. “It’s probably ninety/ten.”
“In our favor?”
She laughed. “No.”
And just then the kitchen door shot open and Candace entered the room. “We need juices. The show is getting good.”
Charlotte laughed while Ty prayed for death as he took a step to the side, hoping the island would cover his bulge. His dick was hard enough to split wood, but he should have known better. Out of the many gifts his wonderful daughter boasted, the ability to cock block was by far her most honed skill.
“Eww, Mom, why are you sitting on the island?”
Ty was glad she asked Charlotte because he didn’t have a clue what to say.
“Because your daddy and I were talking.”
Candace made the exact same face she normally reserved for green vegetables. “Sometimes we eat where your butt is.”
Charlotte pointed to the door. “Child, get your juice and go.”
Candace frowned but made her way to the refrigerator just the same. “I’m just saying…”
“Less saying and more juice getting.”
“Fine,” she muttered as she yanked open the door and pulled out two Carpi Suns. “Wait until I tell Aunt T’mara what you two was doing. She’s going to be so grossed out.”
Ty shook his head and just waited it out. It was the only way he’d figured out how to deal with Candace when she was…verbal like this. He definitely blamed Charlotte for his little princess being such a dictator and he told her so as soon as Candace left the room. “That’s all you.”
“No. Don’t even try that.”
“Apparently I can’t try anything.” He gestured between the two of them. “Without getting caught.”
“Hey, I was the one who said we should get a puppy. You were the one who insisted on a baby.”
“Really,” he deadpanned. “That’s the way you remember it?”
Charlotte hopped down from the island. “It’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
“I got something I want to stick in—” A knock at the door cut off the rest of his raunchy comment. “Looks like the guest of honor has arrived,” he said instead.
“Should I go warn Tamara?”
“Now, honey, where would the fun be in that?”
“That’s why I love you.”
It wasn’t the only reason, but he’d take it for now.
Chapter Two
After distributing the juice pouches, Candace climbed up on the bed next to Tamara and scooted down until she was lying on Tamara’s breasts with her mouth next to the top of Tamara’s belly so she could talk to the baby during the commercials. Halfway through Rudolph, between sips of her Capri Sun, Candace began a dialogue with baby that had Tamara in tears. Not because she was sad, but because she was so freaking amused. Little Miss Priss was just talking to the baby as if he were talking back and having a good old time with it. It was sweet and comforting and entirely too endearing.
Love Charlotte as she did, there were days when Candace was one conversation away from being Tamara’s new BFF. The little girl was the light of her world and she just adored her to pieces. Every time she left the Dollar Ranch, Tamara tried to think of a way to whisk the little tyke away, but with a daddy like Ty, Tamara knew she wouldn’t get very far. So instead she had to settle for being the best aunt in the world. It wasn’t an easy job, but someone had to do it.
Candace lifted her head and looked up at her aunt. “So did you get Pinkie Pie lots of presents?”
“I think that’s between Pinkie Pie and Santa.”
A shadow of annoyance crossed Candace’s cherub-like face. “Really, Aunt T’mara. Santa?”
Tamara feigned outrage. “Don’t tell me you don’t believe in Santa?”
“Do you?”
Tamara wasn’t big on lying but she refused to be the adult that ruined Good Old Saint Nick for any kid. People who did that were destined to shovel coal in hell. “I’m all about the jolly old elf. Plus I get everything I want every Christmas. If it’s not Santa doing it, then who is it?”
“Uncle Rusty,” she said as if there was no doubt in the world.
Tamara laughed. Candace had her there. “He is pretty good at present buying.”
“And Mom says he spoils you rotten.”
“Does she now?” Tamara filed that little note away for a future conversation she’d be having with her bestie.
“Yep. She thinks we’re all a little spoiled.”
Tamara frowned at that description. “Well, I wouldn’t necessarily agree to that.”
“You wouldn’t, huh?” Russell said from the open doorway. His eyes were cold and his demeanor was less than welcoming. From the way he was looking at her, Tamara wasn’t sure whether it was warmer outside or in.
Truth be told, Tamara didn’t care that he looked mad enough to spit nails or that just a few hours ago she was highly contemplating putting Nair in his shampoo. All that mattered was he was here, safe, with her. He’d made it in from the storm, so it didn’t matter to her that there were dark clouds brewing in his green eyes. The fighting would come later, of that she was sure, but for right now, she was just going to look at her handsome man and do what she did every night. Thank the Good Lord he brought this stubborn cowboy into her life.
“Uncle Rusty.” Candace rose to her feet then leaped from the bed with the trust of a well-loved child knowing she was going to be caught even though Russell was nowhere near the bed when she jumped. And of course he stepped up and caught her before she even began to come down.
He spun her around one good time before plopping her on his hip and focusing all his attention on his niece. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“Good.” She cheered, as if being happy was an amazing accomplishment for a four-year-old.
“That’s what I like to hear. So what are you up to, Princess Annie Oakley?”
Candace giggled at the nickname that only Russell called her. “Just hanging with Aunt T’mara and talking to Pinkie Pie.”
Russell frowned. “Pinkie Pie?”
“The baby, silly.”
“The baby’s name is,” Russell looked over at Tamara who could only shrug in reply, “Pinkie Pie?”
“Yes.” Candace placed both her hands on Russell’s cheeks, so he was forced to look directly at her. “And no matter what Aunt T’mara says it’s a boys and girls name,” Candace said firmly.
“Of course it is,” he replied as if it were foolish to consider anything else, which brought a big smile to Candace’s face.
“Thank you. I knew you’d get it.”
“I always do.” Russell dropped a soft kiss on her forehead then set her down on the floor. “I need you to run off for a bit because Aunt Tamara and I need to have a talk.”
“A grown’d up talk,” she said with a sigh.
Russell looked over at Tamara, who tried to sink into the bed and out of his line of sight. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Should I get the naughty word jar?”
Russell frowned. “I would never curse in front of a lady.”
“Oh no,” Candace said. “It’s for the mommies.”
Tamara stifled a laugh. Charlotte might be the size of a woodland fairy but she had the mouth of a Hells Angel. “I think we’ll be fine,” Tamara said as she eased up into a sitting position and let out a deep breath. She’d been lying down way too long and the baby had pressed down her lungs.
“Oh okay, I’ll come back and let you know when dinner is ready.”
“Thank you, princess.” He bowed regally. “That would be lovely.”
At the mention of dinner, Tamara felt a glimmer of interest, which was followed quite quickly by a douse of reality. Russell looked fit to be tied, and if his de
meanor was anything to go by, they might not make it down to dinner.
“Later, Aunt T’mara.”
“Later, baby girl.” Tamara waved forlornly, knowing she was losing her last and only ally.
Candace skipped out of the room as if she didn’t have a care in the world. The same could not be said for Russell, who walked like a man with a purpose over to the door and locked it.
The sharp click echoed throughout the room like a gunshot. Round One had begun. Before he had the chance to turn around, she started in. “Hi, honey. Did you have a good day at the office?”
“Oh wonderful, dear.” Russell shrugged off his thick lambskin-lined coat then tossed it carelessly onto the chair Tamara had occupied just a couple of hours previously. His Stetson quickly followed, allowing him to run his hand through his thick black hair that was cut and tapered to his nape. “I mean flat-out perfect.”
Tamara walked on her knees over to the edge of the bed then she sat back on her heels. “Oh. Tell me more.”
“Let me.” With each word his sarcasm thickened. “After almost coming to blows with the manager of the feed store who decided to use this little snow storm to raise his prices through the roof, I stop at the grocery store and picked up some supplies. Nothing pressing, mind you. I just knew my wife had been craving cheddar and sour cream chips, so good husband that I am, I picked up a few bags for her, because, heaven forbid, she get trapped at home without her favorite snack.”
“That was nice of you.” Going into this, Tamara knew it was highly likely she might be the one who ended up apologizing before the night was over, but some decisions were worth an ass chewing, and she made hers so she was willing to handle the consequences.
“It was.” Russell pulled his buttoned-down flannel shirt out of his jeans and began to undo the buttons, one at a time as he came closer and closer to the bed. “And I was hoping as a reward my loving wife would pepper my face with kisses. Maybe, cuddle up with me in front of the fireplace with nothing but the lights from the Christmas tree for our entertainment.” The final button came undone as he said the last word, which spared him a remark back from Tamara who was far too busy drooling at the sight of her husband’s bare chest.
Mischief and Mistletoe Page 2