How the Devlin Stole Christmas: A Billionaire Cowboy Prequel ~ Those Devilish Devlins

by Kilraine, Lee

  Don’t you have anything in your life worth fighting for?

  I sure as hell did. I leaned forward, squeezed my legs, and loosened the reins. Elvis responded instantly, springing forward into a lope. As soon as we got next to Santa’s float, I leaned over to my left, scooped Max up off the wagon and onto my horse with her stomach resting across my thighs and saddle. Surprise had her limp, but she recovered swiftly and released a few muffled screams into Elvis’s side. I quickly veered off the parade route and into the town park before slowing Elvis down and bringing him to a stop.

  So much for not making the parade one for the history books.

  Santa’s elf kidnapped by womanizing, horse thieving, gambling, murderous outlaw.

  Too late now. Now I had to try to fix what I had broken.

  I grabbed Max’s hand, thinking to set her onto the ground, but she surprised me by swinging one leg up and around until she sat facing me upright. Face to face. Pelvis to pelvis.

  “You are so lucky this saddle doesn’t have a horn.” She crossed her arms over her chest, notched up her chin, and hit me with furious blue eyes. “You have two seconds, and then I’m gone. So, make it good.”

  Two seconds? Hell. What could I say in two seconds to make her stay and listen to me? What could I say that might prove to her how much she meant to me even though I pushed her out of my life with no explanation?

  “One second,” she snapped.

  “You’re the only woman who has slept in my bed.”

  “You’re telling me you’re one of those guys who has sex at the woman’s place for a quick exit?” She narrowed her eyes and tensed her leg, ready to dismount.

  “No. I’m telling you you’re the only woman I’ve been with. Ever.”

  That got her attention.

  Max’s lips parted slightly and her breath hitched. “What?”

  16

  Max

  “What did you say?” My head felt like a bottle of champagne when the cork popped and bubbly, sparkling sweetness overflowed. “You’ve never—I’m the only—I mean…You’ve been celibate?”

  “Until last night, yes.”

  “Wait a minute…” I reeled my elation in. “What about the two years when Daddy turned the ranch into a Dude Ranch to avoid bankruptcy? I watched hundreds of women flirt and drool over you. And you flirted back, you jerk.”

  Locke had the nerve to grin. “Hey, I needed the money. The more I flirted, the bigger the tips.”

  “For the record, I hated it. And you never took one of them to bed?”

  “Not one. There were a few kisses, but that was it.”

  My skepticism must have been parked like a mac truck on my face.

  “You want to know why I didn’t sleep with any of the buckle bunnies and pretend cowgirls looking to score a cowboy?”

  “Why?”

  “Because they weren’t you, Maxie. It was always you.”

  I was so close to throwing my arms around the man and kissing him stupid, but there were a few more answers I needed to hear. Because I couldn’t live through one more heartbreak at this cowboy’s hands.

  “If that’s true, then I don’t understand…”

  “I know I owe you an explanation.” Locke grimaced and sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. “But, I’m having trouble stringing words together with you sitting on my lap like this. How about we dismount?”

  “Oh! Oooh. You mean, I did that?” I grinned, feeling powerful and sexy. “And here I thought you just really loved parades.”

  “That might be funny once I’m standing on the ground. Sitting on a horse with a hard-on is no joke.” He sent me a desperate glance. “I don’t deserve it, but think of our future children.”

  I lost my breath and almost fell off the horse. The man didn’t fight fair.

  “O—okay. I could use somewhere warmer too. This elf costume is a little skimpy.”

  “Noticed that,” Locke bit out. “Is my place okay?”

  “Sure.” Back to where this all started almost twenty-four hours ago.

  We dismounted and Locke tore off the spurs and silver bells, mumbling something about brothers and paybacks. After tossing them in the trash, we walked back to the heart of downtown, still full of people celebrating. Locke handed over Elvis and the outlaw costume to Logan while I slipped into the bathroom at the Burger Barn, happy to peel myself out of the elf outfit and don my own clothes.

  Everywhere we walked, people reacted. Men clapped Locke on the back, older women tittered and tutted, middle-aged married women sent me winks and knowing smiles while the teenage girls looked at Locke all swoony-eyed and giggling.

  “You are never going to live this down,” I said, trying to keep the grin off my face.

  He shrugged and hit me with his steel-bright gaze. “A desperate cowboy’s gotta do what a desperate cowboy’s gotta do.”

  Once in his truck, Locke got the heat blowing and we headed to his ranch. He sat stiff and tense, one hand tight on the steering wheel and the other white-knuckling the gear shift.

  “Max—”

  “Can we wait until we’re at your place?” I wasn’t ready yet. My mind felt like a tangled up mess of barbed wire. I had to sort my thoughts and figure out what questions I needed answers to.

  “Sure.” He gave a stiff nod and turned on the radio. Christmas music played softly, breaking the awkward silence for the thirty-minute ride out to Locke’s ranch.

  Driving down his gravel drive and seeing the fallen tree, with only a section in the center cut and cleared away—just enough to get me out of his house and his life—was a stark reminder that it had only been a few hours since Locke Devlin had shattered my heart. Harden your heart and put your game face on, Maxie.

  Inside, Locke built up a fire while I grabbed a piece of Dodo’s cake (I’m a stress eater!) We settled once again on the floor, side-by-side with our backs to the couch, toes stretched to the warmth of the flames. Although, I was so tense and uneasy that my toes were the only warm part of me. The rest of me felt flash-frozen with worry.

  Mentally, I locked my heart into a storm cellar, hoping it would withstand the emotional gauntlet I was about to walk through. There was so much I needed to know, and I knew exactly where to begin.

  “Why did you say you regretted ever making love with me?”

  17

  Max

  When Locke didn’t react at first, I wanted to pull the words back and swallow them down. My stomach twisted and my hands shook. Maybe I didn’t want to know after all.

  “Because the memory is too sweet. Too painful.” He stared straight ahead at the fire, his jaw hard and his face solemn. “And too perfect.”

  “Too perfect? Then why did you let Daddy talk you out of marrying me three years ago?”

  He inhaled a slow breath before turning his silvery gaze to me.

  “The complicated answer is because I was young, and trusted Jed more than I trusted myself. Too young to trust that what we had was strong enough—special enough to hold on to at any cost.” He shook his head. “I thought letting you go was the best thing I could do for you. The simple answer is…because I loved you.”

  Because I loved you. My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t sure if my heart clenched from hearing him say he loved me…or hearing it in the past tense. Either way, this answer didn’t address the biggest heartache.

  “And this morning? When you talked yourself out of marrying me without Daddy’s help? Same reason?”

  “No. The simple answer is because I’m the biggest boneheaded cowboy in the state of Texas. Plus, your dad’s rifle was a bit distracting.” His chest expanded with a deep breath. “The complicated answer is…I still love you.”

  “You still love me?” It was my turn to pull in a big careful breath.

  “I think I’ve loved you forever. Maybe I was even born loving you. But I thought you deserved better than me. Better than a ranch hand’s life. I swore to your dad I’d never stand in the way of you escaping this life.”
<
br />   “But—”

  He stopped me with a finger on my lips.

  “You’re smart, Maxie. Shoot, you’re an honors graduate in accounting.” He pulled his gaze away and grimaced. “At first, I had this crazy idea I could try to fit into your world. Become a better man who could offer you something more.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know.”

  “The textbooks in your closet…” Not an old girlfriend’s. They were Locke’s.

  “Yeah. I signed up for a couple college classes. Turned out it wasn’t for me.” He shrugged and ran a hand over his close cropped hair. “With the long hours on the ranch, I didn’t have time. And, to be honest, I hated every second I was stuck inside.”

  He reached over and took my hand and shot me a lopsided smile.

  “And this is where I’ve been an idiot. I guess I got caught up in your dad’s worries and dreams for you, and I forgot who you were. Who you are.”

  “I don’t like to be stuck inside either,” I whispered.

  “I know.” Locke slid his hand along my jaw and brought me close, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I know.”

  “You do. You know me better than anyone. You always have.”

  “I have. I’m sorry, Maxie.” He pulled back, took hold of both my hands, and stared hard into my eyes. “Three years ago, I wanted to give you an engagement ring for Christmas, but now I know that was wrong.”

  “What? Why?” Hadn’t he just said the opposite? Was the man trying to drive me crazy? I was pretty sure I could plead insanity if I killed him right now. I tried to jerk my hands from his, but he held on, not letting me go.

  “Asking you to marry me wouldn’t have been a gift for you. It was a gift I was giving to myself. And I’m a selfish bastard because that’s exactly what I plan to do. But before I ask you to marry me…I need to let you know something.”

  “Okay.” My hands trembled in his and tears stung at the backs of my eyes. “But I’m letting you know that no matter what you tell me, my answer is going to be yes.”

  “God, I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “You need to know that your father is totally against us getting married. Maybe Dodo too. So, when I ask you to marry me, know you’re marrying an out-of-work ranch hand. Now, we’re sitting on two-hundred and fifty acres of the most worthless land in the county, but I think with enough hard work and a lot of prayer, we can have a nice life.”

  “Locke Devlin, I’d rather be dirt-poor and hungry for the rest of my days as long as I can spend them with you.”

  “Damn, I’m a lucky man.” He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Maxie O’Conner, will you marry me?”

  “You’re wrong about one thing. Life with you is a gift. You’re the best man I know. I’m head-over-heels, crazy in love with you.” I pushed up, swung one leg over his outstretched legs until I sat straddling his lap, holding his shirt in my fists. “You understand what you’re asking for, right? You’ll be saddled with me forever. I’m stubborn, and I have a temper, and I’m an awful cook, and—”

  “And you’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted.” He cupped my face in his hands. “I will love you until my last breath. If you’ll have me…”

  “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes to a lifetime of making love on Christmas Eve and waking up in your arms on Christmas morning.” My eyes welled up and overflowed. “For the rest of our days.”

  Locke kissed my tears away before pressing his lips to mine and whispering, “You’re my Christmas miracle.”

  We proceeded to spend the rest of Christmas unwrapping our presents on the rug in front of the fire. And in his big bed. And up against the wall in his shower.

  We had a very Merry Christmas.

  Max’s Epilogue

  Later That Night…

  A few hours later, I sat at the island in Locke’s kitchen watching him cook us a late Christmas dinner. Western omelets, bacon, and coffee with a dash of bourbon. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a lazy, satisfied grin. And nothing else.

  If I stacked all my happy memories from my whole life in a pile, they’d still be overshadowed by the pure joy I felt right now. I needed to pinch myself to believe this was real. And to think I had a lifetime of days like this with Locke had my heart near to bursting.

  Locke slid our plates on to the counter, pausing to kiss my shoulder where his too-big flannel shirt was sliding off, before sitting next to me.

  “You have my permission to wear my shirts whenever you want.” The heat in his eyes burned me up. “Eat. You’ll need your energy.”

  I tucked into my eggs with enthusiasm. You can believe I cleared my plate.

  “Hey, out of curiosity, were you seriously planning to stay celibate the rest of your life?”

  “Nope.” He paused his fork in midair, his eyes gleaming at me with intensity. “I was just waiting for someone who made me feel what you do. No one ever came close.”

  “Me too.” I grinned, warmed to the bone at his response. “Me too.”

  “Whoa. I’m not sure I can believe that.” His lips twitched and he reached out and carefully tucked one of my wild curls off my face. “Not coming from the kissing queen of Devil’s Lap.”

  “Okay, fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I may have exaggerated a wee bit on the number of guys I kissed. Or a lot.”

  Why bother kissing a lot of frogs when I’d already found my prince?

  “As long as we’ve established that I’m the last guy you’ll kiss, I’m good.” Locke leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. He stroked his tongue along my lower lip before he took the kiss deeper. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight as my blood surged through my veins like sweet tupelo honey.

  We made fast work of the dishes. If you ignored the interruptions and breaks for kissing and…more kissing.

  “Time for cake,” I said, grabbing out the forks and plates while Locke cut two slices. “I find it hard to believe Dodo gave you her recipe. Were you kidding about that?”

  “Not kidding.” He moved to the fridge, grabbed down a copy of The Guy’s Guide to Grub, and pulled out a recipe card, handing it over to me. “I’m sorry. I’m as stumped as you are.”

  Yep. There it was. Dodo’s Christmas cake recipe written in her graceful looping handwriting. Dodo had raised me after my mother died. We were extremely close, so yeah, it sort of hurt my feelings knowing she’d trusted Locke with her secret family recipe and not me.

  “Whatever. I didn’t want to make the dumb cake anyway.” I shrugged, tossing the recipe card on the island. Then I listened to myself and rolled my eyes. “Sorry. I sound like that bratty kid I used to be. Ignore me.”

  “Hold on…I never turned it over to look on the back.” Locke picked up the recipe card with a frown. As his eyes skimmed the back the smile on his face grew until he was grinning wide. His gaze shot up to mine and he held the card out to me. “You should read it.”

  I took the recipe from him and flipped it to the back. And what I read magically made all my hurt feelings disappear. I should never have doubted Dodo.

  Maxie, don’t get your feathers all ruffled up like a hen caught in the rain. The recipe is to be passed down, one to each family unit. I gave your copy to Locke since he’s a better cook. ~ Dodo

  “I swear you must have the dustiest house.” My eyes stung and my throat went tight. Locke pulled me into his arms and I clung to his strength. “Dad may be against us, but Dodo’s on our side.”

  “Well, what do you know...,” Locke said, his voice tinged with wonder. “Dodo was sending me a message. She gave me the recipe right after I got back into town three Christmases ago. She trusted me with her most precious gift. You.”

  “Pinch me, quick. I think I’m dreaming.” I leaned back to look into Locke’s eyes. “I’ve got the love of the man I’ve loved forever. The brightest, most blessed future shining brightly ahead of me. And a lifetime supply of Christmas cake. That I don’t have to bake. Merry Christmas
to me.”

  Locke laughed, scooped me up with a shoulder under my rib cage and carried me back to bed.

  “Pay attention, Maxie. I’m going to show you my favorite Christmas tradition.”

  Locke’s Epilogue

  36 Years Later…

  “Where’s your better half?” I sat in one of the rockers on the wide porch that ran the full length of the house. The same house I’d bought over thirty-five years ago. Sure, it had been updated and added to over the years, usually when Max and I had another baby on the way.

  “Off Christmas shopping with Logan’s better half.” Liam sat in the rocker next to me, drinking a cup of Christmas coffee. Which meant with a splash of bourbon.

  It was early afternoon on Christmas Eve, an unusually mild day, which was why we were enjoying our Christmas coffee tradition outside.

  “Where’s Max?” Logan asked.

  “Took a Christmas cake over to Jed.”

  “Hell, I hope you didn’t let Max bake it.” Liam’s eyes had gone wide.

  “Nah, I baked it,” I said, grinning. I’d promised Dodo on her deathbed that I’d never let Max bake it. Max had no complaints about the situation.

  “Whew.” Logan made an exaggerated swipe of his forehead. “So old Jed will live a few more years.”

  “I let her bake your cake though.”

  Logan choked on his drink and Liam laughed.

  “For the record, I’m not sure I like this being retired life.” I felt restless. Itchy over sitting and doing nothing. I had total faith that our adult children could—and would—handle the business just fine. Heck, we’d handed over the reins to all three divisions of Devlin enterprises over three years ago. But now that it was official—it felt odd not working.

  “Well, it’s only been two days…” Liam moved the toothpick between his lips to the other side. “Maybe wait a week or two.”