Cowboys & Angels (18 page)

“I’m heading toward you, but I’m riding a horse. I didn’t want to scare you.”

“A
horse?
” She wondered if this was a crazy dream. “What is it, a Clydesdale?”

“No, just a regular horse named Inkspot. We’re going to leave your truck here until tomorrow when it’ll be easier to see what we’re doing. Inkspot and I will take you to the ranch.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.” And he rode into the beam of her headlights.

She stared at this broad-shouldered cowboy wearing a sheepskin jacket and a Stetson. He’d come to her rescue, not like the Lone Ranger, but like a knight in shining armor, mounted on a magnificent black-and-white horse.

Grabbing her duffel, she opened the door and climbed out as he dismounted. They met in the beam of her headlights, and she launched herself into his arms, knocking his hat into the snow.

He didn’t seem to notice as he gathered her close and kissed her. His mouth was cold at first, but it warmed up fast. And all the while, she was thinking that this was the man she would be kissing for the rest of her life, and that was beyond wonderful.

Although he couldn’t seem to stop kissing her, he managed to lift his mouth long enough to murmur a few words about needing to get her back to the ranch. Maybe that was so, but she had what she wanted right here.

Finally, he cupped her face and put some distance between her lips and his. “Seriously. We have to get back. It’s cold out here.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Trust me, you will. Let’s turn off your headlights and lock your Jeep.”

“Not before I say what I came to say.” Suddenly it seemed more important than anything else.

He went very still. “Okay.”

“I love you, Trey Wheeler. I’ve never been in love before, so I didn’t know what had happened to me, but you happened to me, and I’ve been an idiot, and—” She didn’t get to finish because he started kissing her again. But she’d said most of it, at least.

Moments later, he came up for air. “That’s the most beautiful speech I’ve ever heard.”

“There’s more.”

“And I can’t wait to hear it. But if we don’t get back soon, they’ll send out a search party, and that will louse up everyone’s Christmas Eve celebration.”

“I don’t want that.”

“Me, either.”

“But I just need to hear one thing from you before we go.”

“Anything. I’ll say anything you want me to.”

“Come on, Trey. You know what it is. You write songs about it.”

“Are you talking about saying that I love you? Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “But that doesn’t mean a girl doesn’t want to hear those words when she’s driven all the way out here in the dark on Christmas Eve.”

He cupped the back of her neck with one gloved hand and gazed into her eyes. “I love you, Elle Masterson. I love you with everything I have, everything I am and everything I will ever be.”

“Oh.” Tears filled her eyes. “That’s...beautiful.”

“Not nearly as beautiful as the life we’re going to have together.” He brushed his warm lips over hers. “Starting right now.” In moments he’d locked her Jeep and hoisted her into the saddle in true hero fashion.

And although they rode off into the snow instead of into the sunset, Elle had no doubt they would have a very happy ending.

Epilogue

“G
UESS
WE
WON
'
T
have to spend Christmas Eve delivering a foal, after all.” Regan O'Connelli stripped off his rubber gloves and got to his feet.

Timothy Lindquist, head trainer for the Marley Stables, sighed. “Sorry to bring you out here for a false alarm, Doc. I thought for sure she was in labor. The boss has high hopes for this one, up to and including the Triple Crown, so I can't take chances.”

“I completely understand. But my fiancée will be very happy not to spend Christmas Eve alone.”

Timothy grinned. “Same with my wife. She knows how important this foal is, but she still grumbled when I informed her that this was the night.”

“Not from what I see, but I'd keep an eye on things if I were you.” Regan picked up his bag.

“Don't worry. I will. But coming down here every few hours is a hell of a lot better than spending the night in the barn. Thanks, Doc.”

“You bet.” Regan shook the trainer's hand. “Call me if you notice any changes.”

“Got your number in my phone. Merry Christmas.”

“Same to you.” Regan left the barn and glanced up at the clear sky. No snow in sight. Too bad.

In Virginia, you never knew if you'd have snow for the holidays or not. Jeannette was hoping for a white Christmas, and it didn't look promising. But she'd probably trade snow for having him around tonight. He'd told her he'd probably be gone for hours, maybe all night.

On the drive home he pulled out his phone to call and let her know he was on his way. He was in the habit of doing that. Then he thought better of it. Since it was Christmas, he'd surprise her. That would be more romantic.

But now that he had his phone out, he could call his sister Cassidy in Wyoming and wish her a Merry Christmas. So far she seemed to love apprenticing as the housekeeper at the Last Chance, plus she got to see Tyler and Morgan a lot, and Cassidy adored her big sisters.

With seven siblings, plus his parents, Regan had to space out his holiday calls. He'd contact both Tyler and Morgan tomorrow, when he had more time. He wanted all the details on the wedding, especially Tyler's performances with Watkins and Trey Wheeler.

Talking to Morgan would take a while, too, because it would undoubtedly include a long conversation with his niece Sarah Bianca. He smiled. He was crazy about that little redhead.

Cassidy answered right away. “Regan! Merry Christmas! I can't talk long, because we have this
huge
party going on. I'll text you about it later.”

“Great! So you're having fun?”

“Are you kidding? I
love
it here. Love, love, love it. You should move out to Jackson Hole, Regan. Nick keeps saying he needs a partner in his vet business.”

Regan laughed. “Yeah, he mentioned that when I was there last summer, but Cass, I have a partner, remember? Drake wouldn't appreciate having me bail on him, and I wouldn't, anyway. He's my best friend.”

“I know.” Cassidy sighed dramatically. “But it would be so cool if you were here, too. You and Drake could both come!”

“'Fraid not. His folks live here, and they helped us build our practice. Then there's Jeannette. Her family's here, too. I guarantee she wouldn't want to move to Wyoming.”

“Well, bummer. Promise you'll come out for a visit soon, okay? Bring Jeannette. Maybe once she sees the place, she'll be hooked.”

“I'll see what I can figure out, sweetie.” But he didn't know when he'd work in a visit to the Last Chance. He and Jeannette were deep into wedding planning. He'd suggested Jackson Hole for their honeymoon, and she'd made a face.

“Gotta go, brother of mine. Mary Lou needs me. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Cassidy. Love you.” As he disconnected, his chest tightened with longing. He could imagine how festive the ranch house was tonight.

But he couldn't be in two places at once, and he had a hot woman waiting in the town house they'd rented temporarily until they decided for sure where they wanted to buy. He was almost there. She'd be so excited to see him.

As he turned down the street, he noticed Drake's SUV parked in front of the house. Huh. Then he chuckled. Drake had dropped by with his last-minute gift. Typical of the guy. Drake bragged about his Christmas Eve shopping marathons. Jeannette had probably offered him a beer.

Regan parked in the street instead of pulling into the drive. This would be fun. He'd surprise them both, and then the three of them could have a Christmas Eve drink together. Perfect.

Pleased with how the evening was turning out, he strode up the walk, climbed the steps and unlocked the front door. When he walked in, he expected to see both of them sitting in the living room, but it was empty. Maybe they'd gone back to the kitchen, although it was really quiet back there.

Then he heard a sound he knew quite well, one that he'd become fond of in the past six months. The wail drifting down from their upstairs bedroom was unmistakable. Someone had just given his fiancée an orgasm. And the odds were excellent that it was the same person who drove the SUV parked outside.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from I'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS by Leslie Kelly.

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1

Three Years Ago

“H
APPY
N
EW
Y
EAR
.”

The shrill laughter and boisterous conversation at the crowded
party should have made it impossible to notice even if a fire alarm went off,
but Ellie Blake still had no trouble hearing those words, whispered by someone
standing directly behind her.

Oh, yes, she most definitely heard.

What woman wouldn't immediately tune in to a sexy, throaty,
male voice that seemed created solely for the purpose of saying
I want you?
Especially when the pounding of her heart
and the shocked pleasure racing through her said she recognized that voice.
Worse—made her remember when that same voice had once said those very words to
her? I want you.

But no, it couldn't be. He wouldn't just come up to her and
sound so casual, so normal. Not after everything.

“It's been a long time, Ellie,” the man added.

Dear God, it was him.

She could no longer deny that she knew that voice. Knew it and
reacted to it, her heart flipping and her stomach churning and her feet wanting
to spin around so she could either throw herself in his arms or slap his
handsome face.

Standing with her back to the dance floor, she'd been laughing
with her friend and classmate Jessie over some of their typical New Year's
resolutions—lose ten pounds, lay off the chocolate, stop spending money on
shoes. Despite the crowd, she'd been minding her own business, feeling happy and
content as she envisioned the coming year. And, of course, looking forward to
the major changes the year would bring.

Now, all of a sudden
he
had shown
up and kicked her whole steady world out from under her. Rafe Santori.

It was Rafe, of that she had no doubt. It had to be. Nobody
else had ever sounded like that. Like heat. Like heaven. Like sin. Like
strength. Like temptation.

Unfortunately, temptation was one thing Ellie Blake could not
afford.

“El?”

She swallowed hard, watching as Jessie's eyes rounded to the
size of dinner-plates as she saw the man who'd interrupted them. That was
further confirmation of his identity. Rafe was the kind of guy women gaped at,
with a face and body that were the perfect match for that sexy, throaty,
I-want-you voice.

Taking a steadying breath and ordering her heart to go back
into standby mode and quit the heart-attack-in-progress thing, she released her
death grip on her friend. Jessie, apparently realizing this was the guy Ellie
had talked about one sad, wine-filled evening, mumbled an excuse and scurried
away. Ellie was left alone to deal with this hot blast from her past. Telling
herself she was going to have to kill her best friend later, she glued a
noncommittal smile on her face and bit into it, determined to keep it there if
she had to bloody the insides of her cheeks.

Finally, when she felt as ready as one could to leap into a
human volcano, she slowly turned around to face him.

“Hello, Rafe.”

Wow. That had sounded so normal. So unaffected. So “I didn't
cry over you for months when you finally said goobye, really I didn't.”

“It really
is
you,” he murmured as
if he'd been uncertain.

“In the flesh.”

She shouldn't have mentioned flesh because it made her think of
skin, which made her think of naked skin, which made her think of Rafe's naked
skin.

Oh, Lord, allowing the words
Rafe
and
naked
to enter her brain at the same time was
seriously dangerous. Like crossing the streams in
Ghostbusters,
the-end-of-all-things dangerous.

Especially now, when she realized he'd grown even more handsome
since she'd last seen him. When he'd left Chicago to go to boot camp, he'd been
a breezy, smiling, dark-haired Italian-American fresh out of college. His
deep-set, thickly lashed, dreamy brown eyes had dominated his handsome face,
though the sexy mouth had definitely drawn a woman's attention, as well. The
body had been something to see, too—big, lean and hard. He'd maintained the
build of the quarterback he'd been in high school, with a wiry masculinity and
ease of movement that hinted he'd been racing wildfire on the football
field.

But the past four years had made his handsome face even more
handsome, if that were possible. He appeared more mature now, fully grown into
his looks, that rugged jaw outlined with the faintest rasp of dark beard.

And oh, he was bigger. He no longer had a younger man's wiry
leanness but was instead rock solid with thick arms, a powerful chest and broad
shoulders. He'd always made her feel delicate, as he had at least six inches on
her. Now she felt positively petite beside him; he'd packed on a good thirty
pounds of solid muscle.

Wow. She wished she had a cold drink in her hand because she
definitely needed to cool off. Though, to be honest, even walking out of this
club into the snowy Chicago night and dunking her head in a snowdrift probably
wouldn't be enough.

“You haven't changed at all,” he said.

“You have.”

He shrugged, a small frown tugging his brow down over those
dark eyes. “I guess I'm carrying a few more scars.”

She hadn't even noticed the damn scars until he'd pointed them
out. One was on the side of his neck just below his right ear, another barely
visible beneath the stubble on his jaw. She wondered if that's why he'd gone
with the whole unshaven look, to cover it up. As if a small scar could make the
man anything less than mouth-watering? Good grief, adding the faint beard just
made him that much more sexy; any woman would instantly be wondering how that
sandpapery skin would feel brushing against the most sensitive parts of her
body.

Some of her most sensitive parts woke up and did back flips to
try to get her attention, ordering her to find out.

Not happening.

“You just look...older.” Harder. Hotter. Sexier. “More mature.”
She tapped the tip of her finger on her lips and studied him more closely and
admitted, “And a little weary.”

Despite her determination to steel her emotions against Rafe,
she couldn't stop her heart from twisting a little as she noted the faint,
haunted quality in his eyes and the shadows beneath them. There was also a hint
of gauntness in his cheeks. She wondered about the life he'd been leading that
had both aged him into an even more spectacular man, but had also left its mark
on him, a glimmer of sadness he couldn't disguise.

Rafe had been in Iraq for the past few years, she knew. Every
time she saw a news story about soldiers being killed there, she went into a
frenzy to find out the names, dreading the day she would recognize one.
Thankfully, she never had.

He nodded. “
Weary.
That's probably
a good word for it.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice low. She didn't want him
to know how much she cared about the answer to that question. But she cared too
much about the answer to not ask it.

“I'm fine. Really.” He forced a smile. “I can't believe it's
been over four years since I've seen you.”

“Not quite,” she said. “The video chats, remember?”

“Of course. But they hardly counted. I mean, they only made me
more frustrated because I couldn't be with you in person.”

She understood the frustration. She'd shared it.

Rafe had been her lover for such a brief time. It had indeed
been four years ago, during the first semester of her senior year of college.
She hadn't even started applying to vet schools yet. She'd been young and
inexperienced, he a little older, cocky, with killer looks, an easy wit and a
ton of confidence.

She hadn't understood what he'd seen in her, why he'd pursued
her after a chance meeting at his cousin's restaurant. She'd figured it was
simple chemistry. But the attraction, purely physical at first, had evolved into
much more, at least on her part.

As for him? Well...whatever his feelings had been for her, they
hadn't been as strong as his desire to go off to war. He'd joined the army, his
goal to become a ranger. Before leaving, he'd told her that since his military
obligation would last a minimum of eight years, he thought it best if they just
remained friends. She should move on with her life and not wait for him.

She'd waited. Of course she'd waited.

But after a year, his letters had grown scarce, the video chats
even more so. Until finally he'd said he didn't feel right about keeping the
lines of communication open at all. She suspected he'd realized that even those
tenuous strings had bound her to him, making it impossible for her to even look
at another guy, much less give one a chance. And Ellie, knowing in her heart
that he meant it, had done what he'd suggested and moved on.

So how rotten was it for Rafe to come back into her life now,
of all times, when she'd just made a serious commitment to another man?

“Happy New Year.”

“You said that,” she replied.

“Are you going to say it back?”

“Sure,” she mumbled.

He laughed softly. “You still didn't say it.”

“Happy New Year, Rafe,” she said, meaning it, hoping he had a
lovely, wonderful,
safe
year—far away from her.

“You look great.”

“Thank you.”

Silence. What did one say in a moment like this? Other than,
What the hell are you doing here? Are you intentionally
trying to mess up my life again?

“No, not great,” he said, that intense stare never leaving her
face. “Beautiful.”

“Don't,” she whispered.

“Can't help it.”

“Yes, you can. And you have to. It's been years, Rafe, you
can't just stroll up to me at a party and act as though we saw each other last
week.”

“I'm sorry. I just...I guess I've thought about you so often,
it feels like we did see each other last week.”

He thought about her? As much as she thought about him?

Damn him for saying that. For suggesting she might have made a
mistake and given up too soon. For waiting to tell her until it was far too
late.

“Would you like to dance?”

She shook her head.

“Come on, El,” he said, and she knew he was asking for more
than a dance. He wanted her to give him a chance. To do what, she wasn't sure.
Nor was she going to let herself find out.

“I can't dance with you.” She swallowed and stiffened her
spine, staring directly into his eyes. She knew what she had to say, knew she
had to nip this whole unexpected reunion in the bud before she made the mistake
of doing something like dancing with him. Rafe Santori's arms might be the most
wonderful place in the world...but she had no business being in them.

“Why not?”

A moment's hesitation. There would be no going back from this.
But of course there was no other way to go.

“Because my fiancé should be here soon. He got called away on
an emergency but I expect him any second.”

His whole body stiffened and the small amount of color he had
fell out of his face. She saw those dark eyes flash with emotion, saw him
physically withdraw a half step, as if his feet had forced him to move away even
before his mind had caught up with the new reality of this situation.

“You're engaged.” His voice was toneless, his expression
completely unemotional.

She nodded.

“Who is he?”

“Nobody you know. He's a vet.” His brow furrowed, and she
immediately clarified. “I mean a veterinarian.”

“When did you...”

“We met last year and got engaged last month.” It had been a
happy day, and saying yes had been the right decision. She had believed it then,
she believed it now.

But noting the shock and possible dismay on Rafe's face
suddenly had her asking questions a newly engaged woman had no business asking.
Like,
Why didn't you come back sooner? Why didn't you stay
in touch? Why wasn't I enough...why was the army so much more
important?

Why did you come back into my life when
I'd finally gotten over you?

“When's the happy day?”

“September.”

“I see.”

Rafe's whole body, already so tall and strong, went even
straighter, and his jaw pushed out. He was putting up a wall, respecting her
status, ready to back away. She wasn't surprised. Rafe's sense of honor had been
one of the things she'd found most attractive about him.

“I suppose he wouldn't be happy if you were dancing with
another man.”

She replied without thinking. “He wouldn't mind. Denny is the
most easygoing, laid-back person I've ever known.”

Her fiancé was a good guy. A very good guy with a big heart, a
great sense of humor and a genuine love for animals. Most of all, he was
here.
He was stable. He wasn't half a world away,
putting up barriers between himself and anyone who loved him, refusing to allow
anyone to get close...or to wait.

“Oh. So you just don't want to dance with me?”

“You mean the invitation's still open?”

“Of course.”

A sigh escaped her mouth. “It's not that I wouldn't...”

“Ahh, I get it.” The tiniest of smiles appeared on those lips.
“You don't trust yourself, huh?”

“I see that ego of yours hasn't gotten any smaller.”

“For old times' sake, Ellie,” he said, lifting a hand and
brushing the tips of his fingers across her cheek. “I've dreamed about having
you in my arms again. Spent long, miserable nights clinging to that dream.”