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The Cowboy's Christmas Gift
The Cowboy's Christmas Gift
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The Cowboy's Christmas Gift

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Everyone laughed a little, but Carrie wrinkled her nose. “That still doesn’t explain the name.”

Duke met her gaze. “You know Joe. He loved his John Wayne movies, and I sat through lots of showings of Rio Bravo. When the kid apologized to Lacey, I swaggered up to him, doing my best impression of the Duke, and drawled, ‘Sorry don’t get it done, dude.’ I’ve been called Duke ever since.”

Quinn and Kailey burst out laughing and even Carrie’s lips tilted a little at the cute story. Duke’s icy eyes warmed a little as they fell upon her and his face relaxed. He wasn’t the prettiest man she’d ever seen, but there was something about him that was charismatic. Sexy. Maybe it was his general aloofness blended with moments of charm. Whatever it was, Carrie wasn’t immune. Not even close.

A two-step that was popular on the radio these days came on the speakers and Carrie’s toe tapped along with the opening bars. “Hey, Quinn,” Kailey said loudly, to be heard over the music. “You wanna take a turn on the floor?”

Quinn smiled. “Why not?”

Carrie watched as Quinn and Kailey headed out to the sawdust-covered floor and started circling the perimeter with the other dancers. Kailey was laughing and Quinn was smiling. Carrie had once asked Kailey about why she didn’t date Quinn—they got along great. Kailey confessed that once, before Quinn met his wife, they’d gone out on a couple of dates and that kissing him was like kissing a brother. There just wasn’t any chemistry. Now that Quinn was a widower, they’d just stayed friends.

Carrie turned back to the table and her stomach flipped again. Duke was watching her, his gray-green eyes studying her as if he could see clear through her. She wasn’t sure if she liked the sensation or if it made her uncomfortable. Before she could decide, he took a drink of his iced tea. “So,” he said. “You and Kailey. She your wingman?”

Carrie nodded. “Yeah. Most of the time anyway. We’ve been friends a long time.”

“She’s a nice girl. I vaguely remember her from school.”

“She’s a bad influence,” Carrie admitted. “And I love her for it. She keeps me from getting too boring.”

“Are you boring, Carrie?”

She tried hard not to get lost in his eyes. “Occasionally. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

He took a drink of his soda. “You weren’t boring as a kid. Not as I recall anyway. I still remember the day in third grade when you put the frog in Jennifer Howard’s lunch box.”

Carrie couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. “Oh, my gosh. I’d forgotten about that!”

“I’m sure Jennifer hasn’t. She gave you the stink eye for months. I don’t think I’ve ever heard quite that same combination of crying and grossing out since.”

She took another drink of rum and realized she needed to slow down. Carefully she put the glass back down on the table and stared at it for a few moments.

“So what changed?” Duke asked. “All work and no play? What turned that troublemaker into someone boring and responsible?”

Boring and responsible. When she’d looked at him talking to the other men earlier, those words had popped into her mind, too. Was it a case of pot meeting kettle?

She met his gaze and decided to be honest. It wasn’t as though it was a big secret after all. “My mom got sick just before I graduated. Breast cancer.”

“I’m sorry. Is she okay now?”

A lump formed in Carrie’s throat. “No. She got through the first occurrence with surgery and chemo. It came back, though, more aggressive than before. She died two years ago.”

“God.” Duke put his hand over hers for a few seconds. It was warm and rough. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have brought it up...”

“It’s okay.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but she was sure it wobbled a bit around the edges. “It is what it is, right?”

“You and your dad must miss her so much.” He slid his hand away.

And with that he scored another hit. Carrie absorbed the pain, knowing it was completely unintentional on his part. “My dad didn’t take it so well. He turned to the bottle when she was doing her first round of chemo and barely hung on during her treatment. When she was rediagnosed, he fell apart. He left, and I haven’t seen him since. In the end it was just Mom and me.”

She didn’t tell him to elicit his sympathy. She didn’t want people to feel sorry for her. She gave her shoulders a shrug, loosening them up. “Anyway, I guess I put away childish things when that happened.”

Yeah. Including disposable income. She’d gone from being a supportive daughter to assuming the mortgage for the house so the bank wouldn’t foreclose when her father quit making the payments. Not to mention the medical bills and keeping the lights on. The few evenings she spent at the Dollar was about as exciting as her life got.

“I’m really sorry,” he repeated. “How long have you been working at Crooked Valley?”

She smiled then, a genuine one, because she really did love her job. “Your grandfather hired me as a part-time hand when I was seventeen. I liked it so much I stayed on.”

“And now you’re my foreman. At thirty.”

She shrugged, not particularly caring for the reminder of her age. Kailey was twenty-eight and her mother was constantly asking when she was going to find a good man and settle down, that she wasn’t getting any younger. It was as though a woman hit thirty and it was all on the downhill slide.

She peered into his face. “What about you, Duke? What keeps you from smiling more?”

He didn’t answer, but he met her gaze and held it for a few long moments. “It’s a long story.”

She grinned. “It always is.”

“Then, let’s save it for another time.” He treated her to a rare smile, small, but definitely friendly. “This is getting a bit heavy. Maybe we should hit the dance floor instead.” He held out a hand.

Dance. With Duke. She blinked. The conversation had been serious, but the underlying attraction, at least on her part, was still there. Especially when he looked directly in her eyes like that.

“Um, okay.” Her throat felt dry, so she grabbed her glass and finished what was left in the bottom, mentally promising herself to get a glass of water after this dance. Then she put her hand in his and stood up, her heart beating a little bit faster as they weaved their way to the floor with the other two-steppers.

Quinn and Kailey shuffled by, their boots stirring up sawdust as Duke put his hand on her waist and his other clasped her palm. Before she had a chance to take a deep breath, he started them moving around the floor with the other dancers. Carrie made herself relax and settle into the steps; she didn’t want to trip over her own boots and look like an ass. Duke was a good dancer, smooth and even and confident, and with a change in pressure of his hand she knew to slide under and execute a smooth turn. When she was facing him again, he was smiling and the brilliant force of it nearly sucked the air from her lungs.

She was tipsy and dancing with her boss and thinking prurient thoughts about him. This was probably not the smartest thing to be doing on a Friday night.

They’d been late to the floor and the song ended not long after they’d begun dancing. They waited for the next, and Carrie was expecting something fast and fun. Instead the latest hot ballad boomed over the speakers and there was an awkward moment where they wondered whether to end the dance and go back to the table or carry through the next song.

“Care to?” His voice rumbled close to her ear again and she shivered.

“I guess,” she answered, giving a little nod.

The dance hold was different this time, more intimate. His wide palm rode along the small of her back and his fingers curled around hers as he held her close. His belt buckle grazed the button of her jeans as they moved their feet, and her breasts pressed lightly against his shirtfront. Duke’s shoulder was warm and hard beneath her fingertips—maybe he hadn’t been ranching, but there was no denying that what was beneath the material was rock-solid.

The song went on and they moved along the floor like every other couple, but Carrie felt different. The air between them was taut with possibility; each place where their bodies touched was hypersensitive. Duke pulled her closer and his fingers kneaded against the small of her back, barely an inch above her tailbone. It would only take the slightest movement for her to have her head curled against his shoulder, to taste the skin of his neck. Instead she closed her eyes and took in the scent of him—warm skin and whatever aftershave he wore and something that was distinctly Duke without her being able to label it.

“What are we doing?” she whispered, but he didn’t answer her. Instead his lips touched her temple, not quite a kiss but a deliberate contact—a caress—just the same.

Want spiraled through her. She wanted Duke Duggan. Wanted him to kiss her. Wanted to know what it felt like to have his hands on her. Wanted the rest of the people in the bar to disappear so they could have some privacy. This was crazy. She couldn’t ever remember having this sort of instant reaction to a man. Maybe Kailey was right. Maybe it had been too long a dry spell.

The song went on and her body vibrated with anticipation and need. It was pointless, since in about one minute the song would end, they would part ways and she’d go back to the table and attempt to cool off. With water. Not with more rum. Maybe that was part of the problem....

The final chorus was waning when Duke leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “A few minutes after the song ends, I’m going to make my excuses and leave. I’ll wait in my truck for ten minutes. If you want a drive home, I’ll take you.”

She snapped her head back and looked into his eyes. The fire that burned there made her weak in the knees. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Could it be possible that he was feeling the same connection she was—and asking her to do something about it? “Are you sure? This is complicated....”

His gaze dropped to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be. Just two people cutting loose on a Friday night. Unless I misread the signals...”

She swallowed and shook her head quickly. “No...you didn’t. But...”

“I’m not in the market for a girlfriend,” he assured her, his hand squeezing at her hip. “Knowing that, if you want a drive home, meet me in the parking lot.”

The song ended. Duke stepped back and raised a finger to his hat. “Thanks for the dance, Carrie.”

She had to be out of her mind to even consider taking him up on his offer. Duke walked away, heading straight to the bar where he clapped Quinn on the back and ordered up another drink, looking entirely calm while her whole body was on high alert.

Carrie weaved her way back to the table where Kailey was waiting, virtually bouncing in her chair.

“Oh, my God. You and Duke were smokin’ out there! What the heck?”

“We just danced,” Carrie insisted, though she was still so keyed up she felt as if she might bust out of her skin.

“Just danced my eye. It was like electricity between you. Wow.”

“Shut up, Kailey.” Carrie didn’t know what to do. She was tempted, oh, so tempted by Duke’s unexpected offer. She was a thirty-year-old woman and her sex life was nonexistent. Here was a man, a gorgeous man, propositioning her for...for what? A night of mind-blowing sex? He’d made it clear he didn’t want a relationship. She wished she could be more blasé. She knew these things happened all the time. But they didn’t happen to her. Could she really do it?

It all sounded absolutely perfect except for two nagging thoughts. One, he was her boss. And two, she’d learned a long, long time ago that even the best-sounding ideas came with consequences. It was the consequences she tried to avoid.

A waitress stopped by the table and put down fresh drinks. “From the gentleman at the bar,” she said with a smile.

Carrie looked up. Duke met her gaze evenly and saluted her with his glass, then proceeded to drain his drink and, true to his word, headed for the door.

“What was all that about?” Kailey asked, sipping her soda through a pink straw.

Carrie looked down so Kailey couldn’t see the heat in her cheeks. “Nothing. He just bought us drinks.”

She couldn’t do this, she decided. She’d be crazy. Never in her life had she hooked up for anything casual. It just wasn’t her style. And yet there was something exciting about it, too, something risky and dangerous. Maybe she should stop being so uptight. Maybe a night with Duke was just what she needed to unwind a little bit and chill out?

“And he just walked out the door. Without Quinn.”

Carrie looked up and wasn’t surprised to see Kailey’s eyebrow quirked knowingly. She wasn’t fooling her friend a bit. “So I, uh, might have another drive home,” she said, the nerves twisting around in her stomach again.

“Oh. My. God.” Kailey repeated and leaned forward. “He’s waiting for you, isn’t he?”

“Shh. Not so loud!” Carrie hissed urgently. “I don’t need it broadcast through the bar, you know!”

“Shut up! You’re going to do it? You’re going to go home with him?” Her eyes lit up. “You go, girl! It’s about time!”

“I don’t know,” Carrie said miserably. “I mean, he wasn’t exactly the epitome of friendliness the other day. And then we started talking and dancing and...” She met Kailey’s gaze. “There’s definitely something. But he’s my boss. It would probably be a huge mistake.”

“Sweetie, you could stand to make a mistake now and again.”

“I know. I’m dull.”

“You’re careful, and I get why.” Kailey put a hand on Carrie’s arm. “Look, I think he’s a stand-up guy and so does Quinn. Go. If you change your mind, it’s no big deal. One of us should find out if he’s a good kisser, and he didn’t look twice at me. If he’s dynamite, I can be jealous later.”

“What if he...we...”

Kailey’s blue eyes met Carrie’s, serious now. “Then you take precautions.” Kailey picked up her purse, rooted around for a moment, and then she slipped her hand across the table and tucked something into Carrie’s palm. Carrie knew from the rough edge of the square packet that it was a condom.

For the first time, Carrie wished she was as sexually confident as her friend. She didn’t know how to do this.

“How long is he waiting?” Kailey asked.

Carrie checked her watch. “Another few minutes.” She looked at Kailey. “You’ll be okay?”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me. I’ll probably give Quinn a lift home anyway. Go.”

Before she could change her mind, Carrie got to her feet and chugged back the last of her liquid courage. Then she grabbed her purse, took a big breath and smiled at Kailey. “Wish me luck,” she said, and she saw Kailey’s lips form the words good luck but didn’t hear her over the new song that started up.

Anxiety and excitement threaded through her veins as she wound her way through the bar to the door and stepped outside into the cold air. Maybe he’d gone already...

But there he was, leaning against the fender of his pickup truck, his arms crossed over his chest and his cowboy hat shadowing his eyes.

Then he saw her and he smiled, uncrossing his arms and pushing away from the truck. Carrie’s feet took her one step forward, then another, and another...until she was at the truck and he was holding the door open for her.

Chapter Three (#ulink_19cfcf21-e212-507e-81f3-4b76b52c8e51)

She’d actually come.

Duke hadn’t expected her to. Carrie struck him as the buttoned-down type that maybe got out now and again with her girlfriends to cut loose but wasn’t out on the prowl. She was too sweet. Too reserved. Her friend Kailey was more on the vivacious side and good for a laugh. But it wasn’t Kailey he’d danced with. It wasn’t Kailey who’d captured his attention.

It was Carrie, and her sun-streaked hair, big eyes and sad smile. His response to her had been instant and exciting, and before he could think better of it he’d made his proposition. Once outside, though, the cold air had brought him to his senses. He was ten kinds of fool. She wasn’t some girl hanging around a bar on base, looking for a good time. She was Carrie Coulter. Freckle Face. His employee, for God’s sake. What a dumb idea.

He looked over at her as he turned on the heater and put the truck in Reverse. The way her jaw was tensed, she was as nervous as he was. He’d waited for her because he’d said he would, but he hadn’t truly thought she’d take him up on his offer. He’d never actually made that sort of proposition before, and he’d figured he’d blown it. Watching her come out the doors and into the parking lot had set his heart racing. His confidence had taken quite a beating lately, but maybe he had more going for him than he realized.

Either that or Carrie Coulter was desperate.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. More desperate than he was? Not likely. What a pair they made. Secretly, he was glad to be out of the bar. The noise had been overwhelming and instead of relaxing, he’d found himself tensing up. Just trying to hear the conversations going on around him took all his focus. Now he was sitting here, away from the crowd, and neither of them was saying anything.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, turning her head to look at him, chafing her hands together.

“Nothing,” he answered, but judging by the look on her face, she didn’t believe him. “I really didn’t think you’d come.”

“I had second thoughts. And third and fourth.”

Intrigued, he checked the road and then glanced back at her again. “But you came anyway.”

“Let’s not analyze it to death,” she suggested, and he chuckled again. Dammit, he enjoyed her. He liked how she shot straight from the hip without trying to impress, liked the way she smiled and really liked the way she smelled when she was snuggled close in his arms—like shampoo and fresh air and some sort of light perfume, all of it magnified by the heat of her body against his.

It was one thing to proposition a woman on the dance floor and another to wait and then spend fifteen minutes in a vehicle, prolonging things to close to half an hour. It gave a person way too much time to think, and so it was that as Duke turned down the side road leading to Carrie’s house, he felt compelled to let her off the hook.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

Her head snapped to the left and he felt her gaze burn into the side of his head. “You don’t want to?”

Damn. “It’s not that. It’s just...I don’t want you to feel pressured if you’ve changed your mind.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. Why the heck was he so nervous all of a sudden? Nervous wasn’t generally part of his vocabulary. He normally made a decision and got on with it, no second thoughts, no reservations.