All I Want for Christmas Is a Cowboy

by Jessica Clare

  He held out his hand for the phone.

  “Here’s Eli. It was nice to meet you, too.” Cass held the phone out to him, a little smile on her lips. “It’s Maria. She wanted to call and wish you a Merry Christmas.”

  Was it Christmas already? He frowned to himself as he picked up the phone and held it up to his ear. “Hello?”

  “Feliz Navidad, mijo! Are you having a good time?” Maria sounded cheerful as she yelled into the phone, a loud chatter of voices and noise behind her.

  “I’m good, Maria. How’re things there?” He glanced over at Cass, but she picked up a coffee mug and headed into the living room, her cheeks still pink with a blush. He wondered what the housekeeper had asked her, and he felt his own face grow hot.

  “Oh, busy, busy, busy. So many babies here. I always have one in my arms and another waiting to be picked up. It’s exhausting.” She sounded so happy, as if the hustle and bustle thrilled her. “How about you? How are you keeping on all by yourself with no help? Everything good? Or are you ready to fall over and admit to the world that you’re not made of steel?”

  “Not yet,” he told her, amused. “And I know I’m not made of steel. It’d be impossible for the horses to carry me if I was.”

  She muttered something in Spanish and somewhere in the background a baby cried. Maria made a soothing noise and Eli wasn’t sure if it was for him or for the kid. “Give him to me,” she told someone on the other end of the phone, and there was a rustle of air. He imagined her hauling a baby into her arms and pictured the pleased expression on her face. Maria loved to mother. “So, Eli, how are things going with your new friend?” Maria’s tone grew knowing and nosy. “She sounds very nice, mijo. Very sweet. Are you getting along?”

  “Yup. Great.” He rubbed one suddenly hot ear. “It’s all fine.”

  “And she’s recovering well?”

  “Yup.”

  “How’s the weather up there? I saw on the Weather Channel that it’s been more snow every day. You might be keeping her company for a while.” She chuckled. “Maybe we’ll have a nice wedding to celebrate in spring, hmm?”

  Jesus, and here he thought he was moving fast. Turned out he had nothing on Maria.

  “Not entirely sure that’s easy to predict yet,” he told her vaguely, aware that Cass was probably listening in the next room over. Time to change the subject. “How’s the weather there? And the kids?”

  If Maria minded the conversation change, she didn’t say so. She was happy to go on and on about what the grandchildren were up to, how her daughter’s new pregnancy was going, and who was coming down for Christmas dinner tomorrow. “You’re going to fix something nice for your guest for dinner, won’t you, Eli? Don’t make me come up there,” she teased in warning.

  “I’ll do something special,” he promised her. He didn’t know what, but as long as he cooked it and Cass didn’t, he figured they’d both get out alive.

  Maria continued to dominate the conversation, and he was content to listen, pepper in a few responses about the ranch, and watch Cass from afar. She sat on the sofa in the living room, sipping a mug of coffee and studying the tree. Frannie was tucked underneath it again, and he could barely make out the white fluff of her fur under the green branches. Weird dog. She’d been a little distant since Cass had arrived, no doubt focusing her energies on the newcomer. He found himself far more focused on the shiny, loose curls of Cass’s hair than on Frannie, though.

  Man, he had it bad. Dreamin’ about a woman’s hair, even. That wasn’t like him.

  “You’re quiet,” Maria teased, drawing him back to the conversation. “Everything all right?”

  “Hm?” He tore his gaze away from Cass’s cascading hair and focused on the phone in the kitchen. Couldn’t think with all the gawking at her he was doing.

  She chuckled. “You know what? I’ll let you go. It seems like you’re busy. I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, mijo. Just in case you were feeling lonely over the holiday. I’m glad that’s not the case.”

  He grunted a response, then cleared his throat, because Maria hated it when he just grunted at her. She was the closest thing he had to a mom, so she deserved better. “You too, Maria. Happy holidays. Thanks for calling.”

  They hung up, and he glanced over at Cass. She turned her head from her spot on the couch, looking over her shoulder at him. He rubbed his neck, feeling a little uncomfortable and unsure about what to do now. Go over there and kiss her like he’d been dreaming of all day? Or should he take it easy? Pretend like nothing was different and not maul her the damn second he got in the door?

  That was probably smarter. He rubbed his neck again. “I’m gonna take a shower before dinner.”

  “All right.” She smiled over her shoulder at him but didn’t get up.

  He headed toward the hall, his footsteps creaking on the floorboards.

  “Can I join you?”

  Eli froze. His entire body stiffened and his eyes went wide. He turned to look at Cass. Did she just—

  An impish smile curved her mouth. “Just teasing.” She winked at him. “Go shower.”

  “I . . . okay.” Heat suffused his ears. Seemed like he’d spent half the day blushing. He turned around and left, heading into the bathroom.

  As he showered, he mentally cursed himself for not handling that better. Jordy was the youngest cowboy on their ranch, and a consummate flirt. He loved to get the attention of women in town, and Eli couldn’t help but wonder how he would have handled that. Would he have swept over to Cass and dragged her into the shower with him? Flirted back with some funny quip?

  Damn it, and all he’d done was stand there and stare like a lump. Eli vowed to do better. He’d get out of the shower, dress, and then go into the living room and give her a fierce kiss in greeting. Remind her of what they had, since it was clear they’d both been thinking about it. That brief little flirtation of hers told him that she was all right with keeping things heated between them, and he needed to take her up on it.

  So after the shower, he rubbed his jaw and gazed in the mirror. He’d shaved just that morning, but there was some stubble, and he remembered how pink her face had gotten after their kiss in reaction to his whiskery jaw. He grabbed a bit of aftershave, patted it on, and then quickly wiped it off again, because now he smelled like a damned teenage boy about to head off to his first date.

  You’re a grown man, Eli Pickett, he reminded himself. Act like one.

  With a glare at the mirror, he wrapped a towel around his hips and crept into his room to change, shutting the door behind him. He dressed quickly and told himself he wasn’t disappointed that Cass didn’t barge in and put her hands all over him. That was all right. He was probably sending her some terribly mixed signals.

  Well, no more.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Eli charged toward the living room with determination just as she was coming out of the kitchen. Cass looked up at him in surprise, clearly puzzled by the expression on his face. Eli moved to her side, cupped her face, and gave her the kiss he’d been fantasizing about in the shower.

  Immediately, she melted against him, making one of those soft, throaty little moans when his tongue slicked against hers. It was just as good a kiss as yesterday, and her body felt incredible against his own. Like she was meant to be there, tucked against him. Her tongue flicked against his, and then he was as lost in the kiss as she was, mouths melded together and slanting over and over in a consuming dance.

  Finally, he pulled away and gazed down at her, body aching with need. “Been wanting to do that for hours.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered and she looked dazed, which only made him hungry to do it again. “Oh wow. I’ve gotta say, I like this new greeting a lot more than just a ‘hello.’” She licked her pink lips, as if tasting him, and he bit back a groan. “Hi, Eli. How was your day?”

  A laugh rumbled
out of him. Were they doing this? “It was fine. Busy but good. I finished early.” He slid his hands to her shoulders and then locked them around her back, holding her against him. He watched to see how she’d react.

  She put her arms around him and leaned in, a blissfully content expression on her face as she tilted her head back to gaze up at him. “You smell nice.”

  Hell. Now he was going to blush again because she’d smelled his aftershave. “Soap,” he grumbled. “Just soap.”

  She smiled. “You used soap for me? I’m such a lucky girl.”

  “Wouldn’t use it for just anyone,” he said, trying to get into the whole teasing thing. And then, because it wasn’t really who he was, he got serious again. “You sleep well? How are your bruises?”

  Cass chuckled, shaking her head at him. “I don’t know which is worse—you, or Doc Parsons.”

  “Doc called?” Damn, everyone was sure friendly today.

  She nodded. “He wanted to talk to you, but when I told him that you were out feeding the cows, he gave me a lengthy quiz about how I was feeling and if I had any lingering migraines or trauma or the like.”

  Words like “lingering” and “trauma” made Eli’s gut cold. “And do you?”

  “Nope! I’m good.” She made a fist and pretended to knock on the side of her head. “Except for the holes up here, everything’s doing great.”

  He grunted. He should really call Doc and thank him for checking up on Cass, but he wasn’t in much of a mood to talk on the phone more. He’d worked through his chores like a wild man today so he could spend time with her, and he intended to. “You have plans for this evening?”

  Her face lit up and the prettiest smile curved her mouth, and he wanted to kiss her all over again. “Is that the cowboy version of asking a girl on a date?”

  “That’s the ‘we’re both stranded up here together’ version of it, yeah.” When she laughed, some of the tension in his body eased. “I can make dinner, but you have to promise not to help. I’m not in the mood for a medical emergency tonight.”

  She gasped and mock swatted at his chest. “Not funny!”

  “Pretty funny.” Eli grabbed her hand, checking the bandages. “This feeling better?”

  “It stings, but it’s scabbed over.”

  “Good.” He turned her hand over and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, just because he couldn’t resist. “Now, for dinner, do you want spaghetti, or Hamburger Helper?”

  “Those are my choices?”

  He lowered her hand but kept it in his as he headed toward the kitchen. Felt nice to hold her hand. Felt right. “Just because I’m better in a kitchen than you doesn’t mean much. I can make breakfast, and I can make things that come in a box. After that, I’m pretty lost.”

  “Spaghetti sounds good. I can help—”

  “No you can’t.” He moved to the table in the kitchen and pulled out one of the chairs, gesturing that she should sit down. “You can sit and keep me company, though.”

  Her lower lip thrust out in the prettiest little pout, but she thumped into the seat. “Fine.”

  “Not everyone’s a cook, Cass. I’m sure you have other skills.” And then his ears got hot again, because that sounded pretty darn sexual to him, and he hadn’t meant it like that. “I—what the hell is that?”

  He’d turned toward the counter and saw a plateful of what looked like . . . well, he wasn’t sure. Blobs with eyes and burned edges. They looked like something out of a horror movie. White icing slithered down the sides, like snow had melted atop each one. It resembled a creepy snowman graveyard, with all of the blobs lined up and staring at him with beady little eyes.

  “Oh! Well, I tried to make gingerbread men cookies,” Cass told him. “Snowman gingerbread men. Except I think the oven is broken because they got all soggy in the middle, so I had to leave them in for longer and then they burned. And they really didn’t look great without icing, so I iced them and . . . and now they look like an even bigger disaster. Like a Pinterest fail.”

  “Like a what?”

  “Do you not know what Pinterest is?” She sounded amused. “Or I guess cowboys don’t hang out and pin their dream wedding stuff online.”

  “Hell no,” he said, wondering if he should take a bite out of a cookie to please Cass. After a moment of staring down at the beady eyes of the closest cookie, he decided against it and carefully slid the plate away so it’d stop looking at him. “All right. Dinner.” He got out a pot of water to boil the noodles.

  “Have you ever thought about that stuff?” she asked from behind him.

  “Pinterest? Not at all.” He took the pot to the sink and began to fill it.

  “No. Weddings, silly. Have you ever been serious with someone before? You said there was no ex-wife. Just wondering if there’s a string of ex-girlfriends out there. Basically, I’m being nosy.”

  “Ah.” He finished filling the pot and carried it back to the stovetop, not looking over at her. He was flattered that she was asking, but it also made him uncomfortable, because his answer was kind of . . . sad. “Haven’t had a girlfriend in ten years. No wait, twelve. My last one broke up with me when I was in the army.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “That’s . . . an awfully long dry spell.”

  He turned and gave her a stern look. “Didn’t say it was a good thing. Just said it was what it was. I guess you’ve never gone that long between relationships?”

  Her smile turned wistful. “I can’t remember.”

  Right. He mentally cursed himself for bringing it up. “You can ask what you want,” he told her, trying to deflect away from the reminder of her lost memory. “It’s not a fantastic story by any means. Kind of boring, really. But I’ll tell it if you want to hear it.”

  “Of course I want to hear it. I like learning about you.”

  So he told her all about what a shithead of a kid he was back in his younger days. Drinking, smoking, gambling, skipping school—he’d done all of it. He talked about his wild years as he browned ground beef in the pan and threw spaghetti noodles into the boiling water. It wasn’t much to tell. He’d had a wild-tempered girlfriend back in high school who’d been exciting and bold. Then he’d gone away to join the army, and when he was stationed halfway across the country from her, things soured. Her fast-paced and freewheeling lifestyle hadn’t changed just because he was gone, and so he told Cass all about the things that embarrassed him for so long—like when he’d come home on leave for Christmas and found his girlfriend in bed with two men at once.

  “Oh wow,” was all she’d said, her eyes wide.

  It was funny, though—it didn’t feel weird or shameful to tell Cass about these things. He’d kept them to himself for so long that they’d started to feel like ugly secrets. Now, in telling them, he realized they were just things in his past. Hurtful then, but not now. It did explain why he wasn’t a big fan of Christmas, though.

  He kept talking, telling Cass about how he’d been disgusted with how the relationship had ended and that when he’d returned to his post, he’d sworn off relationships for a while. Then when he’d come to Wyoming and started ranching, he hadn’t really had another relationship since. Couple of dates here and there, but they never went anywhere.

  A long dry spell, indeed. But it was one of those things—not good or bad. Just was. It had never bothered him before. He told himself he was living a life that most women didn’t want. He told himself that the mountains and valleys of the Price Ranch land were enough to make up for the fact that his love life was anemic. And he’d been happy with it for a long, long time.

  But that was before Cass. She’d changed everything.

  “I just can’t believe you haven’t dated much in the last twelve years, Eli.” She told him as he served up plates of spaghetti with meat sauce.

  “Why’s that so hard to
believe?” He sat down across from her.

  A little smile curved her mouth. “Because you’re polite, and handsome, and hardworking? You’ve got a great body and a fantastic smile and you’re a cowboy. Women should be falling all over themselves to get to you.”

  Eli stared at her in surprise. The flood of compliments made him uncomfortable, but it also made him feel pretty damn pleased that she thought of him that way. “So you think I have a great body, huh?”

  She reached over and lightly smacked his hand. “Hush.”

  They ate in companionable silence and he suspected he’d embarrassed her. Eventually, Cass asked what he’d done that day and he told her all about the particular cattle he’d been rounding up. Houdini had gotten out again and this time hadn’t wandered far. It had been annoying, though, and then he’d had to search the fences for the problem and repair it. Another cow had to be watched closely as she looked as if she was sick, with extra mucus hanging from her nose, so he’d taken her into the barn to keep an eye on her. She’d been given some additional vitamins and he planned on monitoring her progress tonight to see if she perked up or got worse. If she didn’t show signs of eating, he had antibiotics to administer and failing that, he could always call Doc Parsons and get his advice.

  Even though the topic wasn’t the most appetizing one, Cass listened with interest. Before he knew it, he’d eaten two helpings of food and she’d cleaned her plate. They did the dishes together while she told him about the chickens. She’d found two eggs today and had been so very excited. Cass admitted it felt like finding buried treasure, which struck him as funny and sweet all at once.

  It felt good to spend this time with her, even if it was just doing simple domestic things around the house. Maybe some women would be bored with that sort of thing, but she didn’t seem bored. She seemed happy, and that made him happy. He liked seeing her smiles, and they were more frequent as the days passed.