Secret-Santa Cowboy: The Buckskin Brotherhood

by Thompson, Vicki Lewis

  She hesitated. “I guess that’s fair.”

  Not really. He had no intention of playing fair. Too much was at stake.

  Chapter Eight

  Fiona pressed her hips against the display table. Her legs shook and might not hold her up, so Leo would have to come to her. Besides, the shadows were deeper over here and the less she absorbed of his classic beauty, the better.

  She’d spent the entire evening with Leo Marston. Hadn’t had a clue. Sure, he was a professional actor, but she should have figured it out.

  The California connection was an obvious tipoff. Ben had mentioned he worked with horses. Another big tell. His laugh had sounded familiar because he’d done a lot of it at Ed’s party. She’d had an excess of champagne that night, but still.

  He moved toward her, pausing before he was within kissing distance. She dragged in a nervous breath. Citrus. “You wore a different cologne tonight.”

  “Borrowed this from Garrett. Thought you might recognize my regular one.”

  “I would have. Yours reminds me of a rain-soaked forest.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Yes.” Air was in shorter supply with every passing second. “I can’t believe you went through all this for—”

  “Because you don’t know me very well.”

  “Clearly.” He came closer. Her pulse skyrocketed.

  “I was into you from the moment we met at the auction. I thought we had promise. I still do.”

  The space between his body and hers shrank again. She grasped at the shreds of sanity left to her. “Because you don’t know me very well, either.”

  “But I wanted to. I thought we were off to a great start.”

  Only inches separated them. His breathing was as shaky as hers. Small consolation.

  He gently removed her stocking cap and set it on the boxes of stationery stacked behind her. Taking her coat from her hand, he laid it on the table, too. His body brushed against hers.

  She quivered in anticipation.

  “We did have a nice time that night, Fi.” His voice dipped to a seductive murmur. “A few laughs at the party, a little dancing, easy conversation on the drive home.”

  She gulped. “It was the champagne.”

  “Well, then, maybe—”

  “Booze is the answer?”

  “No, that’s a bad idea.”

  “You think?”

  “Tell you what.” He slid his hand through her hair and cupped the back of her head as his voice roughened. “Let’s stop thinking for a couple of minutes.”

  “Two minutes?” She panicked. “That’s a long—”

  “It’ll go by fast.” Tilting her head back, he leaned down and settled his mouth over hers.

  Even though he’d taken his time leading up to it, she was woefully unprepared. She gasped at the velvet touch of his lips.

  He lifted his head. “Easy. It’s just a kiss.”

  And the Grand Canyon was just a ditch. The instant he’d made contact, she’d been jolted to her toes. Chemistry? How about nuclear fusion?

  “Fiona? Are you—”

  “Again.” She grabbed his head in both hands and pulled him down. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe it wasn’t so…oh, yes, it was.

  With a groan, she wound her arms around his neck and abandoned herself to the fireworks. The velvet pressure of his lips against hers inspired her to shoot right past the getting-to-know-you phase and head straight for reckless abandon territory.

  When he thrust his tongue into her mouth, she returned the favor. She might have whimpered. And plastered her body against the rock-hard body under the Santa suit.

  That soft polyester hid nothing. This supposed goodbye kiss was all about hello. He had her trapped against the display table. Fine with her. One sweep of his arm would clear the merchandise and create a level surface.

  Heat sluiced through her body and moisture gathered between her thighs. His kiss deepened and she wiggled closer, daring him to get rid of the boxes on the table so he could make use of the package firmly wedged between her thighs.

  He lifted his mouth from hers. “This can’t go anywhere.”

  “It’s already gone around the moon and back.”

  His laughter was strained. “No kidding. Damn, Fi.”

  “Damn, Leo.” She cleared the lust from her throat. “If this is a goodbye kiss, I’m Mickey Mouse.”

  “I want to take you upstairs. I can’t. I don’t have—”

  “I should hope not.” She sucked in air. “That would be creepy, Santa packing condoms.”

  “Creepy or not, I wish I had—”

  “Kiss me again.”

  With a groan, he granted her request. In the process, he set every atom in her body ablaze. She took liberties, unbuttoning his jacket and slipping her hands inside to stroke his heaving chest. Sculpted, warm, heart thumping against her palm. Yum.

  He cupped her backside, bringing her in even tighter. He had impressive equipment. But then he would. He was Leo Marston. And despite the voice of reason yelling at her that making love with him was a huge mistake, she was ready to risk it.

  With a frustrated moan, he ended the kiss. “I can be back here in under an hour. If that’s okay.”

  She gulped. “It’s snowing hard. I don’t want you going out in—”

  His kiss cut her off and destroyed what was left of her brain power.

  When he came up for air, she’d lost all modesty. “Stay here. There are other ways we can—”

  “I want it all.”

  “The roads—”

  “Aren’t a problem.” He kneaded her backside, arousing her, taking her beyond all resistance. He struggled to breathe. “I’ve been driving these roads for years.”

  “But—”

  “I’m good at it.”

  “I’m sure you are.” And she didn’t mean driving in snow.

  His answering chuckle was low and sexy. “Now you’re talkin’. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Okay. I’ll give you my key. Just come upstairs. The bedroom’s to the left. I’ll be waiting.”

  “With the light on?”

  Scary. Exciting, but still scary. “No lights, please.”

  “Fine with me. It can be black as pitch and I’ll find you. I’d make love to you underwater if I had to.”

  “Underwater?”

  “Yeah, wouldn’t work, but I’d try to make it work. I want you so much I can’t think straight.”

  “Me, either. One more kiss.”

  He captured her mouth, his heat calling to her, driving her insane. He kissed her until her breath came in ragged gasps.

  He was in no better shape when he released her and backed away. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll be back.”

  “Right.” She turned, grabbed the coat he’d laid behind her and fished the key out of the pocket. She held it out. “See you soon.”

  “Count on it.” Pocketing the key, he buttoned his jacket, turned and strode out the door.

  She sank against the table, quivering. If Leo made love the way he kissed, she was in for a night she’d never forget.

  Chapter Nine

  Leo accomplished the truck transfer in record time. Retrieving the Santa belly from the back, he took it with him. He’d have everything cleaned before returning it to Ben.

  Ideally he would have folded all the gift bags. With a silent apology to Ben, he left them scattered all over the back seat. The evening hadn’t turned out to be neat and tidy, with pie and cider followed by dancing to holiday tunes performed by an excellent country band.

  He wasn’t complaining.

  For about two seconds he considered the condom dispenser in the men’s bathroom at the Moose. But Santa slipping into the men’s room to operate that dispenser was—to use Fiona’s expression—creepy. And he’d rather trust the brand he had in the drawer under his bunk.

  The wind howled around his truck as he climbed in the cold cab. He dug the Santa hat out of his pocket and put it on. Bett
er than nothing. Leaving the parking lot, he headed out of town.

  Fiona was right about the road. It was dicey and would get worse. How long did he dare stay with her? One hour? Two? Was she taking a shower while he made the round trip? Too bad he couldn’t—

  The wheel jerked as he hit a drift at the side of the road. He wrestled the truck back onto the pavement. Damn! Focus, Marston.

  Jaw set, he forced himself to concentrate on the road ahead. One mile. Two miles. Three miles. Just do it. Get there and back in one piece, okay?

  Four miles. Five miles. Not a soul was on the road in either direction. When had this stupid trip become so long? Had the swirling snow made him miss the turnoff?

  Ah! There it was. He slowed the truck and swung wide to give him plenty of room. Now was not the time to slide right off the edge. Getting stuck would put a pitiful end to this amazing opportunity.

  He didn’t meet anybody on the ranch road, either. Buckskin folks stayed home on a night like this because they were blessed with common sense. The prospect of making love to Fiona had destroyed his.

  After parking in front of the bunkhouse, he battled his way to the front door, wrested it open and quickly closed it once he was inside.

  Garrett glanced up from a book he’d been reading while lounging next to the wood stove with a bottle of cider and a bowl of chips. “That Santa outfit isn’t up to this weather.”

  “Luckily we got it done before the storm hit.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I’m changing clothes and going back to town.”

  Garrett closed the book. “What?”

  “Fiona invited me upstairs.”

  “Then why the hell did you drive back here?”

  “Condoms.”

  “But the Moose has—”

  “I decided against those. Go back to your book. I’ll be gone in five.” He walked to his bunk, took off the Santa hat and tossed it on the wool quilt he’d bought at a craft fair. He wasted no time getting out of the Santa suit.

  Garrett left his seat by the wood stove and perched on the opposite bunk. “You know you could end up in a ditch and freeze to death.”

  “Totally worth it.” He put on socks and pulled on a clean pair of jeans.

  “That’s only if it happens on the way home. If you die on the way—”

  “I won’t.” He grabbed a shirt, the tan and pea-green one for good measure, and shoved his arms into the sleeves. “I’m focused.”

  Garrett sighed. “That’s what they all say. Then the highway patrol finds the nose of your truck buried in a snowbank and your cold dead corpse huddled in the cab.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He buttoned the shirt and tucked it into his jeans. Under these circumstances, no need for a belt.

  “Damn it, Leo, don’t drive back there. If she said yes tonight, she’ll say yes again tomorrow night and the roads will be plowed.”

  “It’s a miracle she said yes tonight.” He sat on the bunk and reached for his boots.

  “You gotta tell me why she did. I don’t expect to ever see you again.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake. I’m not going to die.” After tugging on the boots, he stood.

  “Especially if you give up this radical idea and stay here.”

  “Can’t do it. This window of opportunity could close at any minute.” He grabbed his lined denim coat from a peg on the wall.

  “How’d you open it?”

  “Hail Mary pass. One of Charley’s moves.” Crouching, he opened the drawer under his bunk and took out a couple of condoms.

  “That guy casts a huge shadow.”

  “Yep.” Leo shoved the condoms in his pocket. “He told us whenever he got crossways with Henri, he’d abandon the argument and kiss her senseless.”

  “The Hail Mary pass?”

  “Exactly.” He crammed his work Stetson on his head. Fancy didn’t cut it with this woman. “First time I ever tried it, but it works like a charm.”

  “Then you can try it again tomorrow night.” Garrett left the bunk and blocked his path. “Don’t do this, Leo. Since the Brotherhood isn’t here, I have to be the one to convince you this is insane.”

  “Sure it is.” He looked Garrett in the eye. “And that’s what makes it fun. Stand aside.”

  Garrett held his gaze. “She must be something special.”

  “She is.”

  “Then good luck, buddy.” Garrett squeezed his shoulder before moving to let him pass. “Got your phone?”

  Leo held it up as he continued toward the door.

  “Call me if you get in trouble. I’ll be there.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Leo gave him a smile. “Thanks, bro.”

  Garrett blinked. “But I’m not—”

  “In my mind you are. We just need to make it official.” Touching two fingers to the brim of his hat, he opened the door and walked into the teeth of the storm. Fiona was waiting.

  * * *

  The harrowing drive was taking more time than he’d estimated. With no one ahead of him, he couldn’t follow taillights and tire tracks. He took it at a snail’s pace so he wouldn’t go off the road. He used the map function on his phone to gauge the distance.

  What if Fiona was getting worried? Easing to a stop, he engaged the hand break and put on his blinkers in case anyone came up behind him.

  Then he texted Fiona. On my way. Slower than expected due to heavy snow.

  She replied immediately. Where are you?

  Halfway.

  Point of no return?

  He smiled. Passed that when I kissed you and you kissed me back.

  Take care of yourself.

  I will. Setting the phone in the cup holder, he released the hand brake and started forward. Snowflakes created a starburst pattern against his windshield. The wipers scraped it off.

  The sense of isolation in a snow-bedazzled world crept over him gradually. He didn’t acknowledge the power of so much whiteness until he became disoriented, no longer convinced he was moving in the right direction despite the evidence on his phone.

  Another text from Fiona. Call me if you can.

  Stopping a second time, he put on the blinkers again and made the call. “What’s up?”

  “The storm’s knocked out power to the entire square.”

  “Wow. Are you set with candles and a flashlight?”

  “My flashlight’s on my phone and the battery’s getting low. I have two holiday pillar candles, but they’re Christmas presents for Beth and Eva.”

  “Can you buy two more before Christmas?”

  “I doubt it. I got them from a local lady at the Christmas craft fair.”

  “I have a flashlight in the truck and I’ll charge my phone on the way in.” He reached into the console and hooked up his phone to the truck’s auxiliary outlet before turning off his blinkers and starting back down the road.

  “Good thing one of us is prepared. The Moose must have a generator. Some light’s coming from over there.”

  “They have one. Have to with all the perishables in the food locker.”

  “How long could the outage last?”

  “Hard to say. Is this your first one since you moved here?”

  “There was a storm-related one last winter, but it only affected my side of the square. I’ve never seen it all go dark.”

  “I’m sure they’re working on it. I’ll be there soon. How’s the temperature in the apartment?”

  “Dropping.”

  “Maybe we can do something about that.”

  Chapter Ten

  Maybe we can do something about that.

  Fiona had laughed at Leo’s comment and thrown back a saucy who needs central heat, right? Yeah, Fiona Hildebrand was exchanging sexy banter with Leo Marston, the hottest thing since sliced pizza.

  She didn’t trust herself to keep it up, so she used her phone’s low battery as an excuse to end the call. “But contact me if you have any issues!” she added quickly.

  “You’ll
be the first one I contact. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “That’s very sweet.”

  “Give me a chance and I’ll show you how sweet I can be.”

  “Gonna give me a sugar high?” Hey, another flirty remark. They were way easier to deliver on the phone.

  “A sugar high, a contact high, whatever you want, Fi. I’m there for you.”

  “Can’t wait. Better disconnect before my phone goes belly-up.” And combusts.

  “See you soon.”

  “I’ll be here.” She tapped the disconnect button and sagged against her couch cushions, her heart racing. Ready or not, she would soon be naked with Leo.

  He was defying the elements so he could make love to her. Why was he so determined? Was it the novelty of being refused? He likely wasn’t used to that.

  She hadn’t meant to present him with a challenge, but maybe she accidentally had. That could help explain his single-minded pursuit. But what level of sexual satisfaction would justify driving through a blizzard?

  As the minutes ticked by, she paced the compact apartment, her furry slippers whispering against the wooden floor. At least she’d taken a shower before the hot water heater stopped working. She’d changed the sheets on her bed before the lights had gone out.

  She had no sexy nightgowns, despite being close friends with Beth, who owned Racy Lace. She’d put on her red chenille robe, which was soft, warm and felt good against her skin.

  Was there something else she should be doing in preparation for a man who represented her idea of male perfection? At least his chiseled features wouldn’t be an issue in a blackout.

  Without the mellowing effect of liquor, she was mesmerized by Leo fully dressed. Undressed? She envisioned a well-endowed version of Michelangelo’s David. He wanted to be accepted as a normal, flesh-and-blood man. Could she do that?

  A few minutes past midnight, a key turned in the lock downstairs. “Fi?”

  She raced downstairs. “Oh, my God, you made it.”

  “I made it. I brought—”

  She rushed into his arms, absorbing the cold from his jacket and tasting melted snow on his lips as he shoved back his hat and kissed her.