A Cowboy for Christmas (10 page)

“That’s your truth?” His forehead wrinkled. “I tell you I was married and divorced and ruined my career for a woman who still left me afterward and you tell me you can’t cook?”

“Well, there’s a little more to it.” Casey turned to face him and launched into the story of Christmas morning the year she was eight. The Cowboy Cody doll. The pink Easy-Bake oven. And most importantly, the vow to grow up and be the best at whatever she did and to never use that damn oven, or any other oven, for the rest of her life.

By the end of her tale, Bonner’s eyes were twinkling with laughter. “I take it back. That little confession is just about equal to mine.”

She laughed. “It is?”

He nodded. “Yup. And it explains so much.”

“Like what?”

“Like why you find me so irresistible.” He grinned.

Casey rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head. It’s Cowboy Cody I had a schoolgirl crush on. You just happen to look a little bit like him. Actually, the resemblance pretty much ends at the blue shirt.”

She wasn’t about to admit the truth to Bonner, that he might as well be the childhood man of her dreams come to life. The man definitely didn’t need his ego stroked that much.

“You mean the blue shirt of mine you stole from me?” He cocked a brow and looked a bit too self satisfied.

“I didn’t steal it. You gave it to me and I’m keeping it. You have a whole case of them anyway.” She crossed her arms, firm in her resolve. That shirt was coming home with her to New York as a memento even if she had to wrestle him for it. Actually, wrestling could lead to some fun.

“That was before I knew you were only using me to fill your Cowboy Cody fetish, but yeah, I did give it to you, so you can keep it. However, I bet I have something your Cowboy Cody didn’t have.”

“And what would that be?”

A devilish expression appeared on Bonner’s sun-browned face. “Unbuckle my belt and I’ll show you.”

Casey narrowed her eyes. “Hm. I think you’re enjoying the idea that I’ll be doing all the work thanks to your injury.”

“Well, I have an idea about that.”

“Really. Do tell.”

“Take off those pants of yours, spin yourself around and hop on up here.” He grinned and patted his chest. “I’ll be happy show to you what I have in mind.”

She didn’t need to have what he was suggesting spelled out. Her cowboy was a real creative problem solver and she wasn’t about to argue with his solution. The idea of his tongue on her, his mouth torturing her clit into orgasm, his long thick fingers plunging into her as she worked his cock with her mouth at the same time had Casey wet and throbbing and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

Reaching for the waist of her pants, she smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

Casey couldn’t believe the week was over. Just when she really didn’t want to leave, she was sitting down to her last meal at the ranch—breakfast with Jake, Dakota, Justus and Bonner. Tomorrow they’d all still be here, but her seat would be empty. She glanced sideways at Bonner. Would he even notice?

She shook that thought out of her head. Of course, he’d notice. They’d spent the past two nights in her bed together. His injury aside, they’d pretty much taken each other every way imaginable. Their time together may have been short, but it sure was productive—in her bed, and on the desk in her room, even in the big old cast-iron bathtub, strictly to see if a soak in hot water would help his muscles feel better. It wasn’t her fault the hot, soapy water was too much of a temptation for both of them. That she’d ended up straddling Bonner, sliding down over his cock, hard and fast until the water splashed over the edge and on to the floor. They’d soaked quite a few towels mopping it up, then had to drape them all over her room to dry before Mrs. Jones noticed.

But now it was over. Whatever had been between Bonner and her was over. How could it continue with her in New York and him in Colorado? It was crazy to even consider trying. Besides, he hadn’t said a word about trying to maintain any semblance of a relationship after she left. Maybe this was just a fling for him. That’s what it should be for her too.

But it wasn’t.

“What time is your flight?”

She glanced up as Jake’s question broke into her misery.

“Noon.” Casey cleared the frog out of her throat that had made her voice unclear.

Jake nodded. “You’ve got plenty of time.”

She forced a smile. “Yeah, I don’t think the security lines at Yampa Valley Regional are quite as long as the ones I’m used to in the New York airports.

“No. Not quite. The bigger issue is if they close the security checkpoint while the only worker goes to get coffee or take a leak.” Jake’s hearty, gruff laugh never failed to make her smile.

Sometimes it was hard for Casey to remember that even though the Jake she’d come to know was completely at home on the ranch, dressed in boots and jeans, his hat tipped back as he yelled across a pen of cattle to one of the guys, he was the same man who’d shepherded a multi-million dollar, multi-national, hundred-year-old corporation into the twenty-first century. Or that Jake flew to the corporate headquarters in New York to check on the operations there monthly. She’d even heard he maintained a standing reservation at one of the better hotels bordering Central Park for his monthly trips. The dichotomy was surreal.

She tried to picture Bonner in New York, her city, and found it nearly impossible. He’d be like a fish out of water. No, Bonner Blue Boyd belonged in a saddle on the back of a horse, riding the range, the wind in his face, his boots in the stirrups, the cattle at his feet, his dog Misty trailing behind. His home, his life, was here.

Jeez, she was getting sappy. She couldn’t help it. Like it or not, she was going to miss him. More than she wanted to admit.

She’d miss it all. After taking almost every meal in this room with these people, her two-room apartment in the city was going to feel even emptier. Maybe she should get a cat for company. Or a dog, like Misty. But what would she do with it when she had to travel for work? Which brought up another concern—what was she going to do when she did come back here to the ranch for business?

Would she and Bonner pick back up where they’d left off? Fall right into bed like no time and distance had been between them? And what if she came back to find he’d gotten a girlfriend? The bitter taste of bile crept into the back of her throat at that thought.

Bonner had been right. You shouldn’t mix business with pleasure. They should have stuck to his cowboy code and not given in to the attraction. Codes were codes for a reason. Now...well now she’d have to deal with the consequences, and she was afraid those could be pretty bad. Wearing his shirt while weeping on her sofa with a pint of ice cream and a spoon - bad.

The huge disappointment over Cowboy Cody when she was eight aside, Casey had lived twenty-eight years without a broken heart. One trip to the Maverick ranch may well break that winning streak.

Meanwhile, Bonner ate his steak and eggs and drank his coffee, occasionally defending his mug from Jake’s thievery, like this morning was no different than any other. Maybe he wouldn’t miss her after all.

“Well it’s sure been a pleasure having you here, Miss Casey.” Fork and knife in hand, Justus gazed at her over his meal.

Dakota nodded. “Yes, ma’am. It was a pleasure. You come back again real soon.”

“Come back in February or March for calving season. You’d enjoy that. Seeing ‘em born.” Justus turned to Bonner. “Blue, don’t you think she’d like that?”

Bonner glanced at her and then away again so fast, she nearly missed it. “I do.”

Fighting what suspiciously felt like tears, Casey nodded. “I would like that. It sounds miraculous. We’ll have to see what the corporate schedule looks like, I suppose.”

Jake let out a snort. “You come back whenever you want to. We don’t live by corporate schedules at this end of the business the way the square asses in the New York offices do.”

She laughed. “Have you forgotten I’m one of them?”

“Nope. You may well be one of them, but you’re one of us too. You’ve proven yourself here this week. Keeping up with the boys around here. Riding out with Bonner. Surviving a night in the cabin.”

Jake’s mention of the night she’d spent with Bonner had her heart aching. “Thanks, Jake.”

“Oh, and I looked over that marketing plan you left for me. I like it. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and a knack for all that stuff I’ve got no mind for myself. Maverick Western is lucky to have you.”

Now she really did have to fight the tears. Validation from the old man himself was more than she’d dared hope for. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me.”

Bonner, quieter than usual, didn’t comment or even glance up as he scraped the last of the eggs off his plate.

Casey pushed her chair back from the table. If she didn’t get out of this room, she’d break down bawling in front of the boss as well as the man who apparently wasn’t affected at all by her leaving. “I still have to pack a few things.”

Jake nodded. “If I don’t see you before you leave, safe trip.”

Dakota looked up. “Yes, ma’am. You have a safe journey.”

“See you next time. Think some about calving season. You ain’t truly experienced ranch life ’til you’ve spent a night in a calving barn.” Justus grinned.

Bonner finally glanced up. He stood and extended his hand to her. Amazed that one of the most incredible weeks of her life was going to end with a handshake, she couldn’t do much more than reach out her own hand and shake his.

“It was a pleasure working with you this week, Miss Casey.”

Working?
She swallowed hard. “You too.”

Images flashed through her mind as she held his hand, so big and warm, in hers. She remembered how his touch had been all over her. His fingers knew every inch of her body, inside and out. That was over. Now he was all business once again. Her chest actually hurt from that knowledge.

She pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I better...you know. Get ready.”

With a nod he sat again and she walked as fast as she could without looking like she was fleeing, to the privacy of her room.

An hour later, earlier than she had to, she said goodbye to Mrs. Jones in the kitchen, and then loaded her bags into the trunk of the rental car. She’d rather wait at the airport than here amid all the painful memories.

She programmed the GPS for the airport, and was told to drive to the nearest recognized route. Teary eyed, she laughed, reminded of her arrival here. It felt like a lifetime ago, and at the same time the week had flown by in the blink of an eye.

Casey glanced at the buildings in view, stupidly searching for one last glimpse of Bonner. She tried to reason away the pain. Men were different. They didn’t let themselves get emotionally attached. It didn’t mean he didn’t care about her. Of course, he couldn’t show emotion at the breakfast table anyway. Not with the others there. Their relationship, or fling, or whatever it was, had been secret.

A private good bye would have been nice though. She supposed the kiss he’d given her before slipping out of her bed about midnight last night was her good bye. Had she known that, perhaps she would have prolonged it a bit more.

With a sigh filled with regret, Casey put the car in gear and headed down the path she knew led toward the gate. It was a beautiful drive. She wished she could appreciate it more, but the myriad of emotions assaulting her didn’t leave a whole lot of room for enjoying the scenery.

Casey wiped at a tear that crept from her eye. She would not allow herself to cry over a man. Unfortunately, the second tear hadn’t gotten that message.

As she dashed the tear away, something caught her attention in the rear view mirror. She slowed the car and squinted at the motion reflected in the small mirror, until the dust took the form of a man and horse.

Heart pounding, Casey threw the car into park and opened the door. Bonner leapt from the saddle before the horse even stopped and strode toward where she stood next to the car. He captured her in his arms before she could wrap her mind fully around his actions. His mouth covered hers, hard and demanding. He tangled his fingers in her hair, angling her head and driving his tongue between her lips.

When he finally broke away, he pulled her to him. He held her close, her head resting on his chest. “I couldn’t let you leave without a proper good bye.”

Against her cheek, through that stupid blue plaid shirt she’d come to love, Casey felt his heart pounding. “I’m glad.”

There was so much to say. So much she wanted him to say, but neither spoke a word. He leaned back and, cupping her face in his hands, stared into her eyes. Somehow they didn’t need words. She knew. He cared. He didn’t want her to leave either. And, just like her, he’d realized there was nothing either of them could do about it. Her place was there. His, here.

He pressed his mouth to hers again in a poignant, too brief kiss. Then he reached around her and opened the driver’s side door. She got in and while trying to memorize the look, feel, even smell of him, watched as he slammed the door, closing her in. She didn’t lower the window. They were done. There was nothing more to say. With a forced smile, she glanced one more time at Bonner and with a hand that shook shifted the car into gear.

As she drove away, she saw him in the rear view mirror. He stood in the road and didn’t move. She watched until she couldn’t see him any more.

“That is one magnificent turkey, Mrs. Jones.” Jake looked like he was starting to salivate just from the sight of it. Though it could also be the fact that there had been a deal struck, and just for this meal he was allowed to eat whatever he wanted—in moderation—even if it was against his diet.

“It should be. I started cooking it at sunrise. Oops, forgot the gravy.” She turned back toward the kitchen.

Jake scowled and leaned in closer to Bonner. “Yeah. Spoiled my morning, she did. I snuck down early to steal a cup of real coffee from the pot and she was already in there stuffing the damn bird.”

Bonner grinned. “Don’t worry. Tomorrow things will be back to normal and you’ll be back to stealing coffee again.”

“Can’t come soon enough for me.”

Mrs. Jones appeared again, carrying a gravy boat. “Here you go.”

“Aren’t you going to sit and join us?” Jake cocked one snowy brow.

“I’ve been tasting things all day. I don’t need to eat.”

He screwed up his mouth. “Then just sit there and pick. Don’t you want to see me enjoying your cooking?”

“Come to think of it, I better sit. Have to make sure you don’t stuff yourself or the doctor will be hollering next time he tests your cholesterol.”

It was a dance the two had every year on Thanksgiving. Christmas too. Mrs. Jones, a widow, was always here cooking for the ranch on the holidays. Jake would always ask her to join them. They’d banter back and forth about it for a little while until finally Mrs. Jones went to the kitchen and got herself a place setting. Bonner wouldn’t know what to do if they didn’t stick to the tradition, it had been going on for so long.

He had always found Thanksgivings at the Maverick ranch interesting. Who would be at the table was usually up for grabs. Some years there were cowboys in town for one thing or another, far from home and alone. The old man would always include them in the meal if they had nowhere else to go. Some years, though not often, members of the Maverick family would be there—Jake’s grandson or granddaughter and more recently their spouses and kids. And some years, like this year, it was just him and the old man.

“Where’d Justus and Dakota head off to again?” Jake reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes.

“Colorado Springs. Some Thanksgiving rodeo school.” Bonner stabbed a turkey leg with his fork and pulled it onto his plate.

“Ah, that’s right.” With a glance at the door, the old man scooped a second heaping spoonful of buttery potatoes onto his plate.

Bonner hid his smile. It was probably the thrill of getting away with something that drove Jake, more than his love of foods he wasn’t supposed to eat. “Family couldn’t make it out this year?”

“Nah. There’s always something going on with the kids that keep them from traveling. Recitals. Sports.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t like that back in my day.”

“Wasn’t like that in my day either.” Bonner laughed.

Mrs. Jones returned, plate, napkin, knife and fork in hand. “Well it’s a damn shame, if you ask me. Family should be together on Thanksgiving.”

Bonner let out a sigh as guilt struck him.

“Stop looking like a sad puppy. I wasn’t talking about you, Bonner. Your mother moved away from you. You didn’t move away from her.”

“How is your mom?” Jake glanced at Bonner, before his attention was drawn back to the casserole filled with stuffing.

“She’s doing good. I called her this morning. She says it’s beautiful and sunny in Florida and she and her boyfriend are going to have dinner at the restaurant on the golf course.” Bonner shrugged.

He couldn’t feel badly about that. His father had died years before and much too young. He was happy his mother could find someone to spend her later years with. But that didn’t mean he could pick up and leave the farm to fly to Florida and stay in her condo on the golf course on holidays. He had a life and a job here. He had family here too, blood or not. He glanced at Jake and Mrs. Jones. “Everything is great, Mrs. Jones.”

She dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand. “You say that all the time.”

“Because it’s true all the time.” Bonner smiled.

“So tomorrow is Maverick Western’s first Black Friday Promotion.”

Jake’s announcement had Bonner frowning and laughing at the same time. “Congratulations. Now what’s that mean?”

“It means our girl Miss Casey has been busy during her first month with us and tomorrow, we’ll see if it pays off.”

The mention of Casey had Bonner paying more attention. His heart rate sped faster. He’d asked Jake about her and how she was doing in the new job a few times, until he decided he was starting to appear too interested in her. “Then I hope it does.”

“Oh, that reminds me. She wants you and the boys to start taking pictures of what you’re doing every day. She wants you to tweet them.” The old man laughed so hard after making that announcement he began to cough.

Bonner halted the motion of his fork halfway to his mouth. “Tweet them?”

“Yup. She says she’ll send a memo with all the information.” Jake focused completely on his food, making Bonner think Jake didn’t know how the hell to tweet any more than he did.

Meanwhile, Bonner had to stifle a groan at the word memo. It had been where he’d first seen Casey’s name written only a month ago. Little did he know then she’d have such an effect on him. That he’d still be thinking about her now.

Mrs. Jones shook her head. “You two men. I swear. Still stuck in the last century. Twitter is where you can post what you’re doing on the internet so everyone in the world can see.”

“Why would everyone in the world care what I’m doing everyday?” Bonner’s frown deepened.

She shrugged. “Beats me, but it seems millions of people are doing it.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” Jake stared at Mrs. Jones.

“They were talking about it on some talk show I had on while I was polishing the silver.”

“We have silver?” The old man frowned.

“What do you think you’re eating off of right now? I always bring it out on holidays.”

Jake looked down at the fork in his hand. “Hm.”

She shook her head again. “Not sure why I bother.”

Bonner smiled. “I noticed the silver, Mrs. Jones. It’s very nice…and shiny.”

“Thank you, Blue.” After delivering a sweet smile to Bonner, she sent a nasty look at Jake.

“Kiss ass.” Jake spoke the words beneath his breath in Bonner’s general direction before he pushed his plate away from him. “Wow. I’m stuffed. What’s for dessert?”

“If you’re stuffed, why do you wanna know about dessert?” Mrs. Jones cocked one eyebrow at the old man.

“Because for today, you can’t yell at me for having some so I’m eating it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Pumpkin Pie.”

“Homemade?”

“Of course, homemade. When have I ever in all the years I’ve worked here fed you store bought pie?”

“Just checking.” Jake pushed his chair back from the table. “After we help carry this back into the kitchen, wanna watch some football until dessert’s ready?”

“Sounds good.” Bonner stood. He’d been considering seconds on the turkey and potatoes, but since there was Mrs. Jones’s pumpkin pie, hopefully with fresh whipped cream, he’d save room.

The old man surprised him by slapping him on the back and pulling him into a one-armed hug. “Glad you’re here, son.”

Bonner hid his surprise at the old man’s sudden show of affection. “Nowhere I’d rather be.”

He nodded. “Me either. Cut from the same piece of leather, me and you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jake’s familiar saying brought Bonner right back to that day with Casey when he’d said those very words about Dakota and Justus and she’d started to take notes.

Damn. Nothing was safe anymore. Even the littlest things triggered a memory of her and, hard as he tried, he couldn’t hold them back. Should he contact her? Wait for her to come back to the ranch for work? Go out and find a woman to take his mind off her? That last idea left him cold.

He sighed. One day he was going to have to figure out what to do about it, but not today. Today was for food and family—even if they weren’t blood—and football.

Bonner picked up the turkey platter, still heavily laden with the carcass, and turned toward the kitchen. They’d be eating good on leftovers tomorrow—if the old man didn’t eat them all up tonight after Mrs. Jones went to bed.

Jake picked up the bowl of potatoes and then put it back down, grabbing the edge of the table and leaning heavily.

Bonner paused near the kitchen doorway. “You all right?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just got indigestion from all that food is all.”

“Told you not to eat too much.” Mrs. Jones’s voice came from inside the kitchen.

“Ears like a hawk that one.” Jake rubbed his chest.

“You go and sit and find the game on TV. I’ll finish cleaning up here and meet you in there.” Bonner knew something was not quite right with the old man when he gave in without an argument and headed for the TV room. He’d keep an eye on him tonight, then tomorrow, if he didn’t feel better, they could call the doctor.

Satisfied with that plan, Bonner turned toward the kitchen door.

* * * *

“You can’t stay home alone and work. It’s Thanksgiving.”

“Yes, Jody. I know. I figured that out when I turned on the television and saw all those giant balloons floating down 34th Street.” Casey put her laptop down on the coffee table in front of the sofa and pulled her legs up beneath the hem of Bonner’s shirt.

She’d worn it to sleep every night since leaving Colorado. She’d eventually given in and washed it, but for a solid two weeks at least, she’d gone to sleep and woken up surrounded by the scent of him.

Pulling the plaid throw over her, she snuggled deeper into the cushions, settling in for a long conversation with her sister. “Maverick Western’s first Black Friday promotion launches tomorrow. I have to make sure everything’s on track.”

“But it’s a holiday today.” Jody apparently had no other argument besides that.

Casey laughed. “It’s also the most important day of the entire year in retail tomorrow.”

“Just come for dinner. You don’t have to stay late. We’re eating early.” Jody paused and then added, “Mom and Dad aren’t coming.”

Casey had been about to bow out, once and for all, when her sister had delivered that killing blow. “What? Why not?”

“They had an invitation to dinner with Dad’s boss.”

Well, well, well. There were very few things that could tempt Casey to make the drive to Connecticut from the city, especially during the dark days of winter when the sun set at like four in the afternoon and she was perfectly happy to stay snuggled under the Maverick Western blanket, order dinner to be delivered, and work on her laptop in front of the TV, but this was one of them.

“Mom and Dad are going to have dinner with Dad’s boss on Thanksgiving rather than with their children and grandchildren? On Thanksgiving.” Casey knew she was repeating herself, but she couldn’t believe her ears. Her mother, Mrs. Perfect, the one who was so quick with the lectures about all that Casey did wrong by missing family holidays for work and not serving up her fair share of Harrington grandchildren, was missing Thanksgiving at Jody’s house.

“Yup.” Jody delivered that one word and was silent.

Wow. Casey drew in a deep breath and asked, “What time is dinner?”

“Four.”

“Okay. I’ll bring the wine.”

“Great. See you then.” There was a smile in Jody’s voice, but Casey didn’t care. She hung up with the satisfaction of knowing that she was one up on her mother. At least for today.

She had an hour until she needed to leave, and it wasn’t like she was going to get all dressed up to go to her sister’s house for dinner anyway. A sweater, skinny jeans and a pair of high leather boots would be fine. She still had time to get a little bit of work done, besides this particular work had to do with Bonner. Casey needed to write him and the boys instructions on how to send pictures from their cell phones—when they had signal—directly to the Maverick Western social media accounts. It was all part of the social networking platform for her marketing plan. What customer could resist the lure of real live cowboys? And the more often they were exposed to the Maverick name, and the longer they stayed on the Maverick sites, the more product they’d eventually buy.

Hell, just seeing Bonner in this blue shirt had made her want it for herself. She’d barely been able to take it off since arriving home. Of course, she was a special case, because with this shirt came some pretty impactful memories. The customers would just have to come up with their own cowboy fantasies. One look at Bonner, Justus and Dakota riding the horses with Misty at their heels, and the buyer would be hooked. The men would envy the pure manliness and freedom. The women…well they’d just want them.

That in mind, Casey’s fingers flew over the keys.

Glancing up sometime later, the time in the corner of her screen proved she’d worked so intently crafting the perfect instructional page for Bonner and the boys, she’d lost track of time.

“Shit.” She flipped the lid on the laptop closed and scrambled to throw on some makeup and an outfit. After grabbing two bottles from the wine rack on the way to the door, she headed out.

The drive wasn’t too bad. It was a sunny afternoon, which she might not have noticed if her sister hadn’t talked her into coming and she’d remained sequestered in her apartment for the day.

There wasn’t much traffic between the city and Connecticut. Casey supposed she’d gotten on the road too late for that. Most people were probably at their families’ by now, already being tortured by their own relatives. But today should be nice. No mother there to drop passive-aggressive comments about Casey not being married yet or not having a boyfriend. No father to politely inquire about her job even though his gaze stayed glued to the football game on television as he nodded and pretended to listen to her answer. Just Jody, her husband Kent, and their two perfect daughters, Jenna and Courtney. That, Casey could handle.

As she pulled up to her sister’s split level ranch in the suburbs and saw the door open and the two girls run out before she’d even gotten her car door open, Casey had to smile. Her nieces didn’t care that she wasn’t married and didn’t have kids. They didn’t give her the cold shoulder when she was traveling for business and had to miss a family event. To them, she was the coolest aunt on earth.