Cowboys in Charge

by Starla Kaye

  “Are you on your way now?” Was she talking to him on her phone while driving in this snowstorm? He almost snapped at her about that, but caught himself. She was driving, but he had to let that go. She was determined to get home to him. It humbled him. “Pull over, honey. Tell me where you are. I’m coming for you.”

  She gave a quick sniff, and he knew she was trying to cover up that she was crying. “I’m only a few miles away. I…I can make it.”

  He felt panicked, wanted to insist she wait for him to come get her. But there had been more than stubbornness in her tone. She needed to do this, make her way home on her own. He pulled in a steadying breath. It would be as hard as hell, but he would let her do it. “I’ll be watching for you.”

  Kelly had never in her life been as scared as when her Honda CRV went into a skid on a patch of ice. Thank God she’d been almost crawling along the highway, like all of the other cars. The SUV had spun in a slow circle and then slid down the side of the road, stopping at the bottom of the short ditch where she’d hit a good-sized boulder. Her heart was still racing. She’d been fortunate one of the other cars had pulled over and a kindly older man had helped her. He’d offered to follow her home, but she’d told him she could manage.

  It was such a relief to finally turn onto the gravel road leading to the ranch. Tears streamed down her face. Almost there. James would be waiting for her, watching from the porch no doubt. She’d heard the anxiety in his voice and had known he wanted to come get her. He was always so determined to be the strong one, to take care of her.

  Including spanking her when she got all snappy with him, or when she stubbornly went against him for whatever reason, or when she did something stupid. Like going to work when she’d heard on the early morning news about the snow coming and ignoring what the smart thing would have been to do: call in and say she wouldn’t be in today. If he wanted to turn her over his knee, she’d go willingly. She’d been stupid, endangered herself, gotten her car damaged, and—worst of all—needlessly worried her husband.

  She’d made some decisions in the last few days, hopefully good ones. She just hoped that she hadn’t waited too long. If she lost him because of the horrible person she’d turned into lately… But he’d sounded so worried about her. He loved her. She would hold firmly to that belief and if necessary, do whatever she had to in order to make sure he still did. Her Christmas gifts to him this year were a bit out of the ordinary, but, hopefully, would be exactly what he wanted.

  With a sigh and a silent prayer of thanksgiving, she turned into the ranch yard. Every light on the barn and other buildings and the house were on, making her feel welcome. The dark afternoon no longer seemed so depressing. And there on the porch, just as she’d suspected, stood James. Her big, sometimes gruff, cowboy. So much love filled her that she thought her heart just might burst with it. How had she ever been lucky enough to find him? Why he’d wanted her, stuck by her, still wanted her, amazed her. He didn’t care about her past or the kind of horrible family she came from. None of that stuff mattered to him. How many times had he told her that? How many times had she been unable to believe him?

  She pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. She watched him stride down the porch steps and walk quickly toward her, oblivious to the foot of snow he tromped through. He focused on her, only her. Her stomach fluttered. Her pulse raced. All she needed for the rest of her life was this very special man.

  He tugged the car door open and leaned inside to kiss her. She trembled as his big, cold hands cupped her face. She kissed him back, put her hands on his beard-roughened face. Everything she’d gone through on this horrible day was forgotten. She was home now. With James.

  He inched back and then before she knew what he was going to do, he scooped her up and out of the car. It wasn’t the first time he’d carried her, but it was the most precious time. The tender look in his eyes, the sheen of tears he’d held back because of her, touched her to the depth of her soul.

  As he nudged the car door shut with his hip, she said quietly, “I love you. I know I don’t say that very often, but I do. I love you.”

  He tromped back through the snow, up the steps, and into the house. He held her close and didn’t seem to care at all that snow was melting off his boots onto the tiled floor. “You don’t have to say the words, honey, I know.”

  “But you deserve the words,” she protested, feeling guilty. She rarely said love, hadn’t trusted in the emotion. Until James.

  “Actions show what you feel for me.” He slowly let her down. His gaze stayed locked with hers. “You turned this old house into a home, filled it with loving touches. Photos of my family, of you and me, on the mantle.” He grinned crookedly. “You bake me snickerdoodle cookies because I have a sweet tooth. You watch old Westerns with me, when I know you really don’t like them.”

  He’d never told her these things meant anything to him, not that she did any of that to be praised. But she felt uncomfortable, knowing he’d done so much more for her from the moment they’d met. Needing a second to compose herself, she turned toward the great room. Then she really lost it.

  “Oh, James,” she gasped, gaping at the decorated tree. She blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “You put up a tree for me.”

  “For us. Having a Christmas tree is something that means a lot to both of us.”

  She heard the gentleness in his voice. He was right. They’d enjoyed spending a cold day picking out the perfect tree each of the last two years. They teased each other over how to hang the lights just right. They fought—playfully—over who would put the angel on top of the tree. And hanging the decorations from his family and ones they had bought together meant a lot to her…to both of them. But he’d done it all by himself this year. For her.

  Christmas was two days away and usually they exchanged their presents on Christmas Eve. But she couldn’t wait that long. Although she was nervous, she needed to give him her gifts now. At least some of them.

  Heart pounding, she looked up at him. “Wait for me by the tree. Please. I have something I want to give you and I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

  “But…” He stopped protesting when she went up on tiptoes and kissed him silent.

  She turned and jerked off her coat, thrusting it into his hands. Then she raced to the spare bedroom.

  All James wanted to do was take Kelly to their bedroom and make love to her, over and over, and over some more. He’d been so damn worried about her. He could have lost her and he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it.

  He’d watched her smiling uncertainly at him before she hurried up the stairs. Instinct warned him something important was about to happen. Something far more than just exchanging gifts early.

  Damn! Gifts! He still hadn’t wrapped the few presents he’d gotten her. What the hell did he do now? No way was he going to accept something from her without giving something in return. The stupidest idea flashed into his head. Well, he was a man. Sometimes men got really dumb, desperate ideas.

  Kelly carried three small wrapped gifts down the stairs. Would he think these ridiculous? She’d come up with this idea yesterday. What would he say? She almost turned around to go back and grab the other “real” presents she’d gotten him.

  But the sound of soft Christmas music playing snagged her attention. Her favorite songs. Then she noticed that James had turned off all the lights in the lower part of the house except for the Christmas lights.

  Curious and warmed by his thoughtfulness, she walked slowly closer. At first she didn’t spot him, since she was taking in the wonder of the beautifully decorated tree. Then he quietly coughed to draw her attention. She froze, stunned. And then laughed for the first time in far too long. Her precious, precious cowboy.

  “Got to admit that wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for,” he mumbled. He hastily reached for one of the throw pillows he’d put on the floor near him and held it across his lower body.

  Struggling to stop giggling, to quit grin
ning like a fool, she hurried to him. She dropped down on her knees beside her very naked, very tempting husband. She set her gifts to the side and pulled the pillow off him. His long, thick cock adorned with a red bow from the tree danced toward her. She gently took hold of it and smiled at his quiet groan of pleasure.

  “Best gift ever.” She stroked the velvety softness of the steel-like rod. “I plan to spend a long time enjoying it later tonight.”

  She glanced warily at the presents next to her. “I…I hope you like my gifts as much.”

  James found it almost impossible to concentrate on anything but the way Kelly’s hand held his dick. It felt so good. Hell, more than good. He wanted to tumble her to the floor and spend hours and hours showing her how much he loved her. But he could tell she was nervous, concerned about her gifts for him. When she released him to reach for the small boxes, he fought back a groan of complaint.

  He shifted up into a sitting position and took the first red-wrapped present from her shaking hands. He waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he ripped off the paper. Lifting the top off the box, he pulled out a piece of paper carefully folded inside. I respectfully give my notice. December 23 will be my last day. There was more, clearly this was a copy of her letter of resignation to her boss.

  He was so damn happy he could have done one of those crazy happy dances.

  “Stupid, huh?” She anxiously twisted her hands in her lap.

  The job had been important to her so he held his happiness in check. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to pressure you, not really.”

  Her chin jutted up. “It’s what I want. Are you okay with it, though? I know the extra money is nice.”

  “Hell, yes, I’m okay!” He started to reach for her, but she thrust a second present at him.

  He wanted to hug her…and so much more. Instead he opened the long, slender box, thinking it looked like a tie box, although he never wore ties. When he lifted the lid off the box, he blinked twice at the foot and a half long riding crop with a heart-shaped top.

  As he held it up curiously, he noted his wife’s pink cheeks. “A crop? Really?” He damn sure would never have expected something like this. He hadn’t known she even knew about such things. Clearly there were a lot of things he didn’t know about his wife.

  She pursed her lips for a second and then said primly, “It’s supposed to deliver a ‘sweet surprise’ for when I’ve been ‘very, very good.’ At least that’s what the salesclerk told me.”

  Hmm, where exactly had she gone shopping? Interesting. He raised an eyebrow in challenge. “I bet it can deliver a stinging smack, too, when you’ve been very, very bad.”

  She started to jerk it out of his hands, but he moved it out of her reach, grinning. “We’ll save it for those ‘very good’ times.”

  While she calmed, stopped looking so irritated, he nodded at her final wrapped package.

  Without commenting any further about the crop, she handed him the last gift. She worried her lower lip and he sensed this one meant the most to her. He tore the paper away slowly, uncertain. He sure as hell hoped he wouldn’t disappoint her with his reaction to whatever this was.

  Seeming impatient, she grabbed the box and yanked off the lid. She took the shredded pieces of paper out and thrust them at him. Then she closed her eyes and waited.

  He glanced at a couple pieces before he finally realized what he held. He struggled to speak. “The prescription renewal for The Pill. You tore it up? Why?” He prayed he understood. He could barely contain his need to hug her to him.

  Those beautiful, loving eyes of hers opened and she said timidly, “It’s time we had a baby.”

  He didn’t care that he felt moisture on his face. This was a precious moment, one he’d thought might never happen. He held out his arms and she crawled onto his lap. “Best Christmas ever.”

  She leaned back, thumbed away the tears from his cheeks. “No. The best Christmas ever was when we met at that party four years ago.”

  He glanced out the window, noticed that the snow was falling even heavier now. He didn’t mind it at all. “Looks like we’re going to be snowed in here for a spell, honey.”

  “Works for me.” She cuddled closer.

  Worked for him, too.

  Too Much Red at Christmas Time

  I will not buy this for Trent. I will not get him one more present. I won’t. I mean it. I won’t.

  Lizzie Morgan heaved a sigh so deep it came up from her toes. She stood in the men’s area of Patterson’s Department Store, Christmas music playing overhead, last minute shoppers milled around as they searched for gifts they should have bought before the stock was so picked over. She didn’t need to be here, but she had this bizarre addiction to Christmas gift shopping. She couldn’t stop.

  But you need to stop. Now. Forget these gloves. Just walk away.

  She glanced at her best friend Suzy for support in her decision. “I shouldn’t buy these. Right?”

  Suzy shook her head, chin-length blonde hair shining under the fluorescent lighting. “Absolutely not. Trent warned you not to charge anything else. His stern command when we left your house is still ringing in my ears.” Her forehead pinched and she sighed in resignation. “But you’re going to buy those gloves anyway.”

  “They’ll keep his hands nice and toasty this winter.” Lizzie studied the fine leather gloves with rabbit fur lining. She reached onto the counter and ran her fingers over the inside of one glove. “It’s so soft.”

  “They’re not gloves for doing ranch work and that’s all he does.” Suzy studied the gloves, frowned. “Trent won’t appreciate this gift nearly as much as you do.” Ever the logical, responsible one in their friendship, she attempted to pull the gloves away.

  Stubborn to the core especially about something she wanted to buy, Lizzie refused to let go of the gloves. “I’m getting them.” A part of her knew her friend was right. But a fluttery feeling in her stomach at not making this purchase couldn’t be ignored. It didn’t matter that she liked the gloves far more than he probably ever would. She rubbed a finger along the inside again and almost purred. The lining was so soft, irresistible. She’d like to have gloves like these.

  “I can see how much they appeal to you,” Suzy said and nodded toward the women’s section of the department store. “Why don’t you just buy some similar ones for yourself? Forget these.”

  Lizzie jutted out her chin at the challenge. “Maybe he’ll get me some for Christmas. I’ve already hinted at least a hundred times about them.”

  She rolled the comment around in her head. He was such a man. He wouldn’t remember the hints…about any of the things she’d mentioned in the last month. He could remember every teeny tiny item the ranch needed, but something she wanted? Nope. She’d probably get another scarf he found somewhere, something that didn’t require knowing her size. And he’d give her a box with a couple of gift cards. He’d smile as he told her it was best this way.

  Depression weighed her down. Just once she’d like to get something he took more than two seconds to pick out for her. She didn’t care what color it was, what size it was. She just wanted to feel as important to him as his stupid ranch. She knew it was childish. She knew he loved her…but still…

  “I’m getting these for Trent and that’s final.” She was buying the gloves for him because he wouldn’t buy them for her. Twisted logic, maybe. If he would just buy gifts that she actually hinted about, actually wanted, maybe she wouldn’t be this insistent. And if he didn’t get her gloves for Christmas, she’d go buy them herself.

  She picked the gloves up and marched with her other items toward the line at the check-out counter. It was only a week before Christmas and the lines were long. Many of the women in line wore the harried look of holiday shoppers who wished they had started shopping months ago. One scratched things off a crumpled list in her hand. Another studied a paper, worrying her lip in distress, and then mumbled something very un-holiday like.

  Lizz
ie was thankful she didn’t have their problems. She’d started buying gifts for her husband and his ranch hands during the summer. She was done with her Christmas shopping but she just couldn’t seem to stop shopping. There were so many bargains, so many additional items that called to her. Like these gloves Trent didn’t need.

  Suzy walked up behind her and whispered grimly, “You are going to be in so much trouble when he sees all these gifts.” She glanced at the knitted stocking cap, the Christmas boxers, and the shower radio Lizzie also carried. “Trent won’t use any of these things. Set them aside.” She sighed. “You really should take some of the other gifts you bought today back, too.”

  “No.” Again, her friend was right. She should return maybe a dozen of the extra shirts, belts, and socks she’d bought the men in the last week. What she’d bought two months ago would be more than enough. Except that she didn’t believe in returning anything, which was another issue she and her husband disagreed on. It was embarrassing, always made her feel like a fool.

  “What did he tell you last month when the credit card statement came?” Suzy prodded. “He’s a man of his word, Lizzie.”

  She was getting tired of her friend trying to act as her conscience, forcing her to remember that Trent had little tolerance for her going against agreements they’d made with one another. In particular about keeping to a budget. Money is tight, Lizzie, we need to watch every cent we spend. His words played through her thoughts. She knew things had gotten tighter this last year, but she thought he was being overly cautious too much of the time. Why can’t you understand how important it is to stick to the budget? Am I going to have to take away your credit card? Lately she’d even had nightmares about the budget, about the pressure of sticking to it.

  Sometimes he could be such a Scrooge. Once she’d shouted it at Trent and then promptly gotten her bottom burned. Name calling was not tolerated. Scrooge. Scrooge. Scrooge!