Wrap Me, Cowboys Page 6

  “I’ve got a shotgun,” Waylon said. “I can stop him.”

  “You better not,” I said. “I might have signed up for horse shit duty, but I didn’t sign up for visiting you in prison once a month. Plus, you know, I don’t want my man to wind up being someone else’s bitch.”

  Waylon grunted. “Seeing you and not being able to touch you would be worse.”

  “There’s conjugal visits,” Sawyer said with a wink.

  “Do they let your brothers attend those?” I asked.

  “I’m joking,” he said, holding up a hand. “No one’s killing our brother.”

  “He deserves it,” Waylon said. “They might let me off easy, seeing what he’s done.”

  “You aren’t seriously sitting around the table debating whether to kill someone,” I said.

  “No,” Waylon grumbled. “I guess I’m not.”

  “Good, because I definitely didn’t sign up for that. The closest I’ve ever been to a murderer is watching The Sopranos, and I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much.”

  “And you will,” Holden said, taking my hand in his huge paw. “We’d never do anything to threaten what we have.”

  “Neither would I,” I said. “I know it might be hard for you to trust again, but just know that no matter what happens with Cody, I’d never cheat on you guys. And besides, I’ve got all of you, so why would I? I couldn’t ask for more.”

  “Good,” Sawyer said. “Now that we’ve got all that established, I figure we can let Cody know he’s done his penance by living with Ma. He’ll get his cabin back, but he won’t be living in the house with us. We’ll keep renting out the others to tourists.”

  “That sounds good,” Holden said. “And he can take over the books and help with the horses.”

  “That frees you up to focus on getting renters in the other cabins,” Sawyer said to me. “You’re a people person. You can do the sales pitch and get renters in here in no time if you can put your energies into that.”

  “Great,” Waylon said. “More nosy neighbors. Just what we need.”

  “I still want to feed and brush the horses,” I said. “But maybe he can take over the pooper-scooper duties.”

  We passed the rest of dinner in a pleasant conversation about how to keep the cows from dying in the upcoming blizzard. I found myself missing Haley and New York and even my mom. If I was back in Manhattan, we’d be shopping in the last-minute craziness, and every storefront would be decorated, and every display inside every store would be bursting with Santas and reindeer and trains and all the other Christmas stuff. Holiday music would be playing in every cab. I even missed the boring holiday galas my mom dragged me to and the grumpy shoppers.

  “I think I’ll skip church this year,” Waylon said, pushing back from the table. “I’m in no mood to see Cody, and we can’t afford to lose more of the herd than we have to. At least one of us should stick around here to keep an eye on them.”

  “I don’t mind staying with you,” Sawyer said. “Ma will understand, with the blizzard coming and all.”

  “You guys better not make me go to church alone with your mother,” I said, gripping my fork. I hadn’t drunk nearly enough wine to handle an evening of sober Lidia, and I didn’t dare show up to church even a little tipsy. She had a nose like a bloodhound and would probably already be able to tell I’d had a glass with dinner.

  “I’ll take you,” Holden said, covering my hand with his big one.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I guess you all know whose bed Santa will find me in tonight.”

  Waylon scowled, but Sawyer just grinned. “I can think of a little gift I’d like to wake up to on Christmas morning,” he said. “You know. If you feel like it.”

  “Depends on how tonight goes,” I said, linking my fingers through Holden’s and giving him my most adoring smile.

  “This is cute, but we’d better get moving,” Waylon said. “Y’all have a good time tonight.”

  He plucked his hat from the back of his chair and stalked out. Sawyer followed, but Holden stayed to clean up the dishes with me before we got dressed for church. The guys rarely dressed up, so it would be a treat to see Holden clean shaven and sporting a button-down shirt.

  9

  Holden

  “Don’t you look like a million bucks,” Amber said when she descended the stairs to join me in the living room.

  I couldn’t think of a single thing to say for a minute. My words were all caught up in a swell of emotion filling my chest. Finally, I got something out. “You look better than any amount of money.”

  I took her in from head to toe and back again. I kept right on looking, brushing my fingers across her baby-soft cheek, my eyes pooling with love and appreciation as I took in her updo, her tasteful makeup, and her fitted red dress. “Is there anything you can’t do?” I asked at last.

  She smiled and seemed to swell up a size like I’d said just the right thing for once. “There’s nothing I won’t at least try,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

  My cock throbbed against my chinos at that, and I felt a smile tugging at my lips. I ran my hand over the bottom half of my face like I could wipe away the thoughts in my head. Despite her teasing comments, this wasn’t the time for dirty talk. “I mean it, Amber,” I said. “You look like a real classy lady. Even my mother will approve.”

  I’d been trying to get a point across, and it must have worked, because no one could think a single sexy thought when talking about my mother. She was all comfort and warmth and homeliness.

  “Eh, don’t give me credit for knowing how to dress like a classy lady,” Amber said with a shrug. And then she just had to add, “We both know I’m not one.”

  “I’m being serious,” I said, snagging her hand and sliding my free hand behind her neck. I couldn’t believe she’d just said that, and I had to make sure those thoughts didn’t come from our current relationship. I pulled her close, and my eyes pinned hers. “Loving three men doesn’t make you any less classy than loving one or none at all. That’s all you, Am. It comes from within.”

  “It comes from my mother’s stylists spending years and thousands of dollars trying to wrangle me into campaign appropriate dresses,” she whispered, squirming under the intensity of my gaze.

  “That’s got nothing to do with it,” I said. “You’re beautiful inside and out, Amber. I’m just about the luckiest man alive right now.”

  “Well, at least one of the three,” she teased.

  “My brothers aren’t here, so I’m the luckiest,” I said. “And you can argue all night, but it will never change my mind, so I think you could skip all that and just say thank you.”

  “Thank you,” she said, squeezing my hand.

  “I would kiss you, but I don’t want to mess up your lipstick.”

  “Now who’s the luckiest person alive? No other man in the world would be so considerate,” she said, standing on tiptoes to plant a kiss on my cheek. She dropped back down and smiled up at me, then used her thumb to rub lipstick from the spot she’d kissed. If I could get away with it, I’d wear her lipstick mark on my cheek all the time, something to mark me as hers like a brand on cattle. I could feel myself blushing a little. Sometimes her touch was still like the very first time. It made me feel young and clumsy and foolish, but in the best possible way.

  We headed out, leaving the lodge dark except for the string of white lights twinkling along the borders of the roof and porch railing, sparkling across the snow like golden fairy dust.

  I opened Amber’s door and helped her up, admiring the way her dress fit her just right, emphasizing her little curves and her long, slender legs. She looked every inch a lady as she climbed up into the truck. And I meant to kiss every inch of that lady later on tonight. I’d been promised a night with her, and I meant to take advantage of every second of it.

  At church, everyone greeted us. They stared a little, but that wasn’t unusual. It was a small town, and we didn’t get to church as much as w
e should. Then there was the fact that I’d brought along the foreigner. People from New York were seen that way around here. Sure, we had lots of tourists, but not many who had the gumption to stick it out and stay. Add to that Amber’s status as our stepsister, and the fact that she was drop dead gorgeous, of course she was bound to turn some heads. But most people had satisfied their curiosity last year, and they were only admiring her.

  Ma rushed over to greet us in the atrium, Cody strolling behind her. Right away I could tell how uncomfortable he was, though he had fixed a bored gaze somewhere above the door. Funny how after all these years apart, I still knew him like the brother he was and would always be. I’d grown up with him, and no amount of cheating women would ever change that.

  “Ohhh,” Amber muttered. “That’s why Waylon didn’t come.”

  Only then did I notice the hush that had fallen as people stared openly or pretended not to look. Amber had been one step ahead of me, but now I saw why Cody looked so tense. He was getting a lot more attention than Amber and I. We were old news, after all. Cody had just shown up after disappearing four years ago with Waylon’s fiancé. People were dying to see how Waylon was going to react, how our reunion had gone. Besides that one night down at the bar, we hadn’t been in public with Cody. By now, everyone would have heard that Waylon didn’t show up with his three Westling brothers.

  They were in for some disappointing news.

  “Where are your brothers?” Ma asked, looking behind us. “They’d better be parking the truck.”

  “Merry Christmas,” I said, leaning in to give her a kiss. I muttered in her ear as I leaned down. “They’re not here.”

  “What? Not come to church on Christmas Eve? I raised them better. I’ve half a mind to go get them myself.”

  “Let’s go find our seats,” Cody said stiffly.

  “Merry Christmas,” Amber said, giving him a quick hug. He tensed, his calloused hands falling on the curve of her waist instead of wrapping around her. But even though it couldn’t have lasted more than a second, I saw his jaw tense and his eyes drop closed for just a second as he inhaled before she pulled away.

  Amber embraced our mother next, and Ma went on making clucking chicken noises about how Sawyer and Waylon hadn’t shown up. Even she didn’t have an unkind word for Amber, though. And I couldn’t really blame my brother for finding her attractive. Hell, every man in the place was probably wishing she’d had her arms around his neck instead of Cody’s. I was even a little jealous, and I knew she’d have more than her arms around my neck by the time the night was through.

  Funny thing was, I wasn’t a bit worried about her hugging Cody, even if I did wish it were me. I knew beyond a doubt that Amber would never betray us. No matter how much Cody wanted her, she would never be his. She was ours. In a funny way, we’d done just what our parents wanted. Our father had paid us to take her in and tame her wild ways, and her mother had wanted her to learn responsibility. Now Amber helped run the ranch, and she’d settled down. She wasn’t going out getting drunk, and she wasn’t running around with lots of men. She was in a long-term committed relationship. Sure, she liked to have a glass of wine or two and take it from her three stepbrothers at once, but no one had said that was off limits when they sent her our way.

  As we slipped into the pew, Amber took a seat between me and Cody. I listened to her sweet voice singing carols, and I ached to take her hand in mine and wind my fingers through her slender ones. Not being able to touch her in public only built anticipation for later, though. I knew that from experience. The excitement was half the magic, like waiting to unwrap presents on Christmas morning. With Amber as a gift, this would be the best Christmas of my life.

  10

  Amber

  As I sat in the church pew, I itched to reach out and take Holden’s big hand, to slide my fingers between his and feel small and dainty compared to his monster paws. Instead, I sang the carols with the other parishioners, letting the mood of the evening settle over me. Tonight, we’d have snow. We’d wake up to a white Christmas, watch each other open gifts, and take care of the animals. We’d eat a big dinner and I’d take a nap while the guys watched whatever game was on. At night, we’d sit around the fire telling stories and getting drunk on eggnog. I’d make Christmas cookies with Sawyer like I had last year—and hopefully I wouldn’t burn them.

  Even though Lidia would hang around most of the day, I didn’t mind. I actually enjoyed the ornery old biddy. Sure, she liked to criticize me as much as Waylon, but once she relaxed, she was lots of fun. Compared to my ice queen mother, she was a dream. I’d even come to love her tacky fingernails, now decorated with little reindeer faces, complete with a shiny red gemstone accent for Rudolph’s nose. And the woman could cook like nobody’s business. Looking at her over there singing to her heart’s contentment, with an arm around Cody, I thought I might not mind having her for a mother-in-law one day.

  When Holden slid an arm around me during “Silent Night,” warmth filled up my chest until I thought I’d burst. Thank the baby Jesus that I had Holden to balance out Waylon’s prickly comments. Holden had accepted me just as I was from the very start, and even if he didn’t challenge me to grow quite as often as the others, he loved me just as much when I changed and grew as he had from the start. And I’d love him just the same no matter what. I couldn’t wait to see how we all grew and changed and learned to fit together all over again.

  Finally church was over, and we headed outside. “Well, I guess I’ll see you two in an hour or so,” Lidia said. “Don’t hang the stockings without me.”

  “Come on now, Ma, we’re too old for that,” Holden said, an adorable blush sweeping over his cheeks.

  I was still caught on the part before that. “You’re coming tonight?” I squeaked. I’d had big plans tonight, and they did not include snoozing quietly and waiting for Santa.

  “You know what they say,” she said with a wink. “If you can’t bring Moses to the mountain…”

  “Likely won’t be able to get over there tomorrow,” Cody said, plucking his hat from the rack in the church atrium and scrunching his hat down on his head. “Not with this storm moving in.”

  “The plows won’t be out on Christmas,” Lidia said. “Not that early. I need to get over there in time to make dinner.”

  My mouth watered at the memory of last year’s ham—the crispy, sweet outside and the juicy, salty inside. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself opening my mouth and agreeing. I’d spent most of my life ordering takeout Chinese for Christmas dinner, and a table full of Lidia’s homemade family recipes was an offer I couldn’t refuse. What can I say, a girl’s gotta eat.

  “Thank you,” Cody said quietly, tipping his hat to me as we stepped outside. His eyes caught mine, and a charge ran straight through my traitorous body and settled with a throb in my clit. Shit.

  The blast of sub-arctic wind that smacked into us at the speed of a train cooled me right down. It banged the glass door of the church open so hard I let out a little shriek of surprise, sure it would shatter. Somehow, it managed to hang onto its hinges, and Holden wrapped an arm around me. Bracing ourselves, we plowed through the hurricane gusts and made it to the truck, though Holden had to hold his hat on with one hand the entire way.

  When we pulled up at the ranch, all the lights in the lodge were blazing, the warm glow spilling onto the snow and making me warm inside. I couldn’t wait to be alone with my three boys for an hour before their mom arrived. My pulse raced at the thought. With their mom staying over, this would be our only chance. I grabbed Holden’s hand, and we took off through the punishing wind. Icy crystals from the last snow blew along the surface of the crust and slashed at our faces. We ran up onto the porch and stomped off our boots before ducking inside.

  The fireplace was roaring, and a huge pile of logs sat ready to warm us through the night. I could hear someone moving around the kitchen, and the delicious smell of cinnamon and spices filled the air. Cheery Christmas music dr
ifted out through the toasty lodge. When I’d arrived, it had been barren of decorations except for a rack of deer antlers. Now it held touches of Christmas from the red and white table runner to the boughs on the mantel, the basket of pinecones on the coffee table to the sprig of mistletoe dangling above the kitchen entrance.

  As soon as we’d closed the door and stomped off our boots, I stuck my head into the kitchen. Sawyer was dancing around, sliding his cowboy boots across the wood floor as he moved to stir something on the stove and then back to the counter where he was putting the final touches on a tray of blintzes.

  “There’s my woman,” Sawyer said, sliding the tray into the oven before dancing over and grabbing my hand. His other hand, still stuffed inside an oven mitt, found the small of my back. Grinning down at me, he started dancing me around the room, singing along to “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”

  “Glad to see that someone’s in the holiday spirit,” I said as we danced past the table. I had come a long way in the country dancing department. I could do a respectable two-step, all the line dances, and even the country waltz. I hadn’t learned the Christmas tango, or whatever we were doing, but Sawyer was a good leader, and I could follow along easy enough.

  Sawyer spun me under the mistletoe and stopped to kiss me, his neck arching as he bent his head, his hips pressed against mine. He ran his hand down from my back and over my ass, lodging his hand as far between my legs as it would get. Which felt so weird through an oven mitt that I broke away, laughing.

  “How’s my favorite horny baker?” I asked, holding his face between my hands. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

  “Horny,” Sawyer said, burying his face in my neck and rocking his hips against mine. I could feel his erection growing by the second. “If I’d known you were wearing this to church, I would have said fuck the cows and gone with y’all.”