If Santa Were a Cowboy

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If Santa Were a Cowboy Page 6

by Melissa Cutler


  Kelly only had eyes for Paul. No wonder she’d been so drawn to Paul all those years. If she’d only had faith in her intuition—in herself—then.

  Their thirteen-year friendship had been more real than any other relationship in her life. Real, yet not, because even back then, she’d been all about the pretense, her popular girl image. Even then, he’d put her up on a pedestal so high that she’d been terrified of the fall. No wonder she’d refused to entertain the idea of dating him. Or kissing him in Seven Minutes in Heaven or dancing at the prom. No wonder she’d flipped out last night when he’d kissed her.

  Four weeks. She could protect her heart by being his fantasy girl for four weeks. She was already in way over her head, but if she could stay focused on keeping their time together sexy and fun, then maybe she wouldn’t drown.

  Jan threw her arms around Paul and sniffled again. “Thank you.”

  Movement in Kelly’s periphery caught her eye. She looked up from her lens to see Evan creeping up the sleigh stairs on his hands and knees.

  “Paul,” Kelly said quietly. When he looked her way, she nodded to Evan.

  Sadie must have noticed Evan, too, because she trotted to the edge of the sleigh and lowered her front paws like she wanted to play. Evan giggled. Kelly snapped photos.

  Through the lens, she watched Paul hold out his hat to Evan. “Want to try it on?”

  The boy snatched it up and stuck it on his head, looking utterly pleased. And Kelly was there to capture the moment on film.

  “Ho, Ho, Ho,” Evan said.

  Jan smiled, proud. “He’s been working on that for weeks.”

  “Ho, Ho, Ho,” Paul echoed back in a soft, unthreatening voice, much to Evan’s joy.

  The little boy squealed and smiled. He let Sadie lick him on the cheek, then said, “Ho, Ho, Ho” again.

  Paul scooted off the bench, onto the floor, only a few feet from Evan. “Ho ho ho,” he repeated, just as softly.

  Evan echoed the words, creeping even closer as the two of them went back and forth, “Ho ho ho-ing” their hearts out.

  Kelly zoomed in with her camera lens. And then the magic happened. She captured a shot of Paul and Evan looking eye-to-eye, only a foot or so apart, both smiling. Suddenly, Kelly’s whole disastrous year fell away. What did she care about a year from Hell if it brought her here, to Briscoe Ranch, with Paul Savage, and one of the most rewarding experiences she’d ever had on a job?

  * * *

  Paul always looked forward to the peace at his cabin after a good day’s work. Nothing like brewing a cup of coffee and watching the sunset from his deck with Sadie as his mind replayed his favorite moments from his day as Santa. But tonight and for the rest of the season, he wasn’t sure how much peace he’d be able to accomplish sharing his house with the woman who set his whole world on fire.

  On the evening of their first day on the job together, after he’d made his grand exit astride Prancer, one of the quarter horse geldings assigned for his use at the resort, Paul hung out in the parking lot of the resort’s equestrian center, waiting for Kelly. It would take her some time to pack up her gear and hitch a ride to his truck on one of the resort’s golf carts. Which was just as well because Sadie was a tornado of energy, as she usually was once their workday was done.

  At the resort, Paul changed into jeans and a black T-shirt in the equestrian center washroom, then grabbed the tennis ball and launcher he kept in his truck. Sadie was all for that, so Paul lowered the tailgate of his truck, climbed up on it, then launched the first tennis ball flying over the open field adjacent to the stable. Sadie raced after it at top speed, her long, brown ears flapping in the wind.

  He and Kelly had made a great team that day, despite the challenges of staying in his Santa persona while the woman he’d crushed on for most of his life was standing five feet away, snapping photos of him and watching his every move.

  He’d been watching her, too. And he hadn’t been able to shake the sensation that she was holding back, keeping herself at a safe distance from the joy of their job. It had always been that way with her. It was as if she didn’t know how to forget herself and let loose. The specter of critical self-awareness was always looming, except every now and then when it was just the two of them, and she’d let her guard down. When he was young, he’d lived for those moments, feeling like the most badass guy on the planet for making her laugh and putting her at ease. Like last night, in the closet, for a brief few moments when they’d both given up their pretense.

  Sadie bounded out from the tall grasses with the tennis ball in her jaw. She delivered it to Paul straightaway, but only released it into his hand after a bit of tug-of-war. He put the ball in the launcher and hurled it again, much to her delight.

  At the first sight of Kelly riding shotgun in Brent’s golf cart, Paul’s heart beat out of rhythm. Would he ever not have a visceral reaction to the sight of her in his world? Doubtful. She was still dressed like an elf, except that she’d taken the band out of her hair to let her wavy, golden locks cascade over her shoulders.

  He pushed off the truck’s tailgate and met her at the curb as Brent drove away. “Hey there. Today was cool, wasn’t it?”

  She looked like she had something to say. A wrinkle had appeared between her eyebrows, and her lips resisted the smile trying to form on them.

  “What’s up? Are you all right?”

  She dropped her equipment bag on the blacktop as she walked to him. “This job . . . you . . . it’s all so much cooler than I imagined.” Before he could do more than open his mouth in reply, she took his cheeks in her hands and kissed him, slow and tender.

  Just like that, his world went ablaze again. He wrapped his arms around her and gave himself over to the feel of her lips on his and the way she melted into his arms.

  When she ended the kiss, she stroked his beard. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

  The knowledge that the tables had turned and she’d been the one doing the pining felt like getting dosed with a medicine he hadn’t known he needed. He could actually feel his heart healing from the long-ago damage she’d done to it. “Have a kink for Santa, do you?”

  “No,” she said in a throaty whisper. “But watching you with those kids today, and the way you kissed me last night . . .” With dreamy, half-lidded eyes, she splayed her hands on his chest. “Turns out I have a kink for Paul Savage.”

  “You had a whole suitcase that says you have a lot more kinks than that.”

  “Are you going to indulge me those tonight?”

  Hell yeah, he was.

  He took her mouth in another kiss, this one wetter and deeper than the last, loaded with desire. This time, when they broke apart, they were both breathing hard. He opened his eyes slowly, bracing for the shock of seeing the Kelly Sawyer standing before him, freshly kissed—and dressed like an elf.

  The juxtaposition hit his funny bone. He was powerless to hold back an amused snort. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I’ve never made out with an elf before.”

  Her eyes lit with wicked amusement. “No?” Her fingers worked the top button of her shirt free. “Then allow me to introduce you to Elf After Dark.”

  When she freed the next button, the top of a red lace bra came into view, hugging the swells of her breasts. Suddenly Paul didn’t feel so much like laughing anymore. He traced the lacy edge with a finger. “Just call you Santa’s little helper.”

  They’d spent a lot of time together over the years when they were young, but she’d never looked at him like she was hungry and Paul was the meal until today. He hooked his finger into her shirt behind the band of her bra and tugged her into a feather-light kiss meant to whet her appetite even more. He didn’t just want her hungry—he wanted her starving for him as much as he was starving for her.

  As soon as she touched her tongue to his, he pulled away. Much more of that and he’d be the one starving and desperate. “Let me take you home.”

  “That’s the best idea I’ve heard yet.”
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  He turned his head to the side and pressed his teeth to his lips, whistling for Sadie and scanning the tree line for sight of her. He jumped at the feel of Kelly’s lips on his exposed neck at the edge of his beard. He cupped her ass and held her close, which was how he noticed his hands were shaky. It’d been a while since lust had done such a number on him. It felt good, like a shot of pure energy.

  Leave it to Kelly Sawyer to shock him into awareness of how predictable and one-note his world had become. The world came alive to his senses. The sun brighter, the colors of the trees more vivid, the cry of birds on the distance more acute, the silky press of Kelly’s lips on his neck, the click of the passenger door as he opened it, Sadie’s breathing and the crunch of dried grass as she bounded through the field and into the truck, the hot, heavy throb of need between his legs.

  “Get in the truck,” he bit out, his mind too foggy with need for polite words.

  He was going to fuck the girl of his dreams tonight. All night if she wanted. Every night this month, if she wanted. He couldn’t fucking wait.

  Chapter Eight

  While Paul fed Sadie dinner and got her settled, Kelly walked to the bedroom, scrolling through her phone in search of “Santa Baby” and planning an Elf After Dark strip tease for him. She set the phone on the speaker dock on his dresser, then hummed along with the tune as she unzipped the naughty suitcase.

  What a bounty of riches she’d brought. Her hand fluttered over a jar of chocolate body paint and mint-scented condoms, and landed on a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs. Those would do for tonight. She could already see him in her mind’s eye, all naked, muscly flesh, stretched out on the bed, restrained while she had her way with him.

  A shock of dizziness overtook her as all the blood rushed to her pussy. If Paul made love anything like he made out, then she was in for the night of her life.

  She felt his eyes on her and turned to find him standing in the doorway, realizing only when Paul’s attention lowered to her hands and his lips quirked that she was clutching the handcuffs still. She feigned a saucy confidence she no longer felt with her influx of nerves. “Come on in, and get those pesky clothes out of the way while you’re at it.”

  With a sly smile, he stripped his T-shirt off, revealing a dusting of dark hair across a well-defined chest and abs a girl could spend a whole night exploring with her lips and tongue. But her awareness was captured solely by the massive, vividly rendered tattoo on his right side, over his ribs. Rather than Dog is my copilot, the design was a broad, gnarled tree that morphed into a dragon. The image was mostly dark gray and black, with stains of mossy green and a deep blue that matched the sky an hour after sunset.

  “Nice tat.”

  “Nice cuffs.”

  “The better to explore your body with.”

  On a skeptical grunt, he swaggered her way. Kelly couldn’t decide what to keep her eyes on, his ripped upper body, his hot, hungry gaze, or the way his jeans were beginning to bulge behind the zipper.

  When he reached her, he reached for her top. “If I’ve got to take my pesky clothes off, then it’s only fair that you do, too.”

  She swayed in place, overwhelmed by the depth of her need. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone as much as I want you right now.”

  He took her hand and flattened it on his chest. Beneath her palm, his heart was racing. “You feel what you’re doing to me? I’ve wanted you since forever, Kelly Sawyer.”

  “Then take me.”

  In a flurry of tangled limbs and flying clothes, they fell onto the bed, nothing between them but hot, shimmering friction. Paul parted her legs with his knees and rose above her, a bearded, tattooed, hard bodied god of her dreams. In the back of her mind, she registered the thunk of the handcuffs hitting the floor, forgotten, as a moment that had taken too many years to manifest finally burst into being. The two of them, together, naked and vulnerable and quivering in each other’s arms.

  She never stopped being aware of whose lips were grazing her ribs or suckling her nipples, whose fingers were exploring her folds, whose erection she wrapped her hand around. Even as he lowered between her thighs and bliss overtook all logical thought, she never lost sight that it was Paul Savage’s tongue on her flesh, Paul Savage’s hair she plunged her hands into as an impending orgasm swirled around the edges of her awareness, growing ever closer until she shattered, crying out his name.

  She cried his name again the first time he pressed into her, joining their bodies in a way that their spirits had already been joined for decades. Like his tattoo, they became dragons and trees—spiraled together into a fierce mythic being that was both strong and wild, grounded yet soaring.

  It wasn’t until hours later, sated in each other’s arms, that she started to grasp the profoundness of it all. The two of them, after all these years. It reminded her of something Paul had said the other night, right before he spun the bottle. He’d been glad he’d waited to lose his virginity until college, when it could be special, with someone he cared about. For so long, Kelly had been trapped by her guilt from seeing how lucky they were that nothing had happened in high school. What an unsatisfying mess that would have been, the same way all her high school sexual encounters had been. Hell, she hadn’t even learned what lubricant was until college.

  This was the way she and Paul were meant to be. Coming together after a decade of post-high school maturity, of practicing their bedroom skills with less-worthy lovers. She’d felt from the beginning that divine forces had led her to Paul’s door, but she’d thought the journey was about atonement. In her wildest dreams, she never would have guessed that the universe had bigger plans for them both.

  Snuggled into his side, she traced the curve of the dragon’s back along his ribs. “What was the inspiration for this?”

  “I’m an arborist, so . . .” He paused his languid petting of her hair to shrug.

  Her instincts told her he was holding back, so she propped herself up on her elbow and searched his eyes. “There’s more to the story than that. I can see it in your eyes.”

  He frowned, clearly debating whether or not to share.

  “After all that we just did, I think you can trust me with your truth.” A little voice of dissent called to her in the back of her mind. Shouldn’t that go both ways, Kelly?

  As if she could risk him rejecting her now should he learn about her financial ruin and messy life. As if she could bear to look into his eyes and see disappointment and disillusionment there.

  “Okay, but it’s super nerdy, so brace yourself. The tree is a member of a race called the Hist and the dragon is an Elder Dragon from The Elder Scrolls.”

  Never heard of it, but it definitely sounded super nerdy. “Is that a movie?”

  “Uh . . .” His expression turned sheepish.

  She nudged his ribs. “Come on! Don’t be embarrassed. It’s just me.”

  “The Elder Scrolls is a role-playing game I was into in high school and college. The Hist are sentient trees in that world, highly intelligent and interconnected. They’re the reason I first started studying trees scientifically, so I figured, why not immortalize that with a tattoo?”

  She fell back to his side, poking her tongue in her cheek to stave off a laugh. “You have a role-playing game tattoo. I’ve gotta say, you’re the hottest nerd I’ve ever seen, so that’s something.”

  He rolled to his side to face her. “I’m not a nerd anymore, so scrub that from your mind. I’ve changed, remember? And I never want to forget where I started from. It helps me remember how far I’ve come.”

  She smoothed her hand over his cheek, hearing the subtle echo of a lie behind his words. He wanted so badly to believe that he’d changed, but in so many ways, this new, buff, edgy Paul was actually a sheep in wolf’s clothing.

  Then again, who was she to call him the impostor when she was the one who was terrified of him finding out the truth about her? The trouble was, with every kiss, with every touch and intimate conversation, he ke
pt stripping away her pretense. No matter how valiantly she fought it, when he looked into her eyes, she knew he wasn’t seeing Elf After Dark or Kelly-With-Her-Shit-Together—but Kelly Sawyer, the girl next door, with all her fears and insecurities, fighting to pretend she wasn’t hopelessly in love with the geeky, awkward boy from the wrong side of the cafeteria.

  Chapter Nine

  “Santa, would you fix his fingers?” Kelly said. “He’s still flipping off the camera.”

  “Again?”

  The little man in question had to be only a few months old, but the little guy had mastered the art of the double bird. Paul tried to get the baby’s middle finger to curl down with the rest of his fingers, but every time he tried, the baby whimpered a warning that bigger tears were on the way if Paul kept messing with him.

  The mom started laughing. “It’s that onesie! It’s turning him into a little rebel.”

  The onesie in question read “Santa Is My Homeboy” and, to Kelly’s thinking, made the baby more of a mini-gangster than a rebel.

  “I can try holding him a different way,” Paul suggested.

  The mom waved him off. “Nah, let’s go with it. I can use this shot for a laugh at his wedding someday. In fact, why don’t you give the middle finger, too, Santa.”

  “Seriously?”

  The mom gave a nod.

  Kelly’s phone chimed with a new voicemail that would have to wait until her break time. She glanced at the growing line of restless kids waiting for their moment with Santa. “Tell you what. I’ll take one of each and then you can decide when you get to the cashier.”

  That plan seemed to satisfy everyone. Paul gave his brightest smile for the first photo, then hunched and mugged a scowl for the second, holding up a middle finger like a gang symbol against his chest. It was all Kelly could do to hold the camera steady through her chuckles.

  “And it’s a wrap!”

 

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