A Cowboy to Marry (8 page)

A fact that had deprived him of picking her up and driving her in his truck, like a real date, Holden mused in disappointment.

Shane set a Christmas tree upside down. “How is the sale of her business going?”

Wade and Travis joined them and began trimming trees, too.

Holden picked up a small handsaw, appropriate for the job. “As far as I know, she's getting everything she is asking for from Jeff Johnston.”

Holden's dad and two brothers stopped what they were doing and exchanged surprised looks.

Holden exhaled, glad to have the three accomplished businessmen to use as a sounding board. “Yeah, I know. Generally, when something seems too good to be true, it is. And whether she wants to come right out and admit it or not, Libby intuits that, too.”

Silence fell. The tree trimming and bundling resumed.

Holden wrapped a net around a spruce ready for transport to the Kiwanis Club's holiday lot. “I've done some research, checked into Johnston's other acquisitions. He seems to have the golden touch when it comes to expanding a business and taking it onto the internet. Neither Libby nor I have been able to find any formal complaints lodged against him that would indicate he's done anything even borderline unethical or illegal.”

“And yet—” Shane added another trimmed tree to the
pile “—something about this situation just doesn't sit right, does it?”

“I don't like the way he's gone behind Libby's back, talking to all her employees, promising them the moon so they'll get on board with the sale,” Holden admitted.

Travis sawed the lower limbs off a tree. “Not to mention chatting up all the ranchers in the area, to make them believe he would do a much better job of meeting our needs than Libby ever could.”

“Intense competition in the business world is expected,” Wade pointed out as he piled the shorn strips of greenery onto a wheeled cart. He shook his head in mute disapproval. “Stabbing rivals in the back is not.”

Which in a way, Holden thought, was exactly what Johnston was currently doing.
If
his intentions were of the nasty, competitive ilk…

Holden struggled to be objective, but it wasn't easy when Libby's well-being was at stake. “I'm trying to be fair. To consider whether Johnston is simply being proactive—and attempting to reassure everyone, in advance, that his intentions are as honorable as he professes. Or—” he grimaced, considering the alternative “—is Johnston's behavior an indication that he is a hell of a lot more cutthroat than we know, and Libby really needs to beware?”

Another concerned silence fell.

“What do you want us to do?” Shane asked.

Wade was a multimillionaire investor, his uncle Travis and his dad prominent members of all the ranching associations in the state. Among the three of them, Holden knew they had a powerful, knowledgeable network of acquaintances. “Use your connections. Ask around. See if there's anything you can find out about Johnston that might be a red flag.”

His dad guessed the rest. “And while we're at it, don't mention to Libby what we're doing.”

Holden ignored the faint hint of disapproval coming from all three older men. Determined to keep his promise and watch over Libby, whether she liked it or not, he said drily, “You may have heard she doesn't like being protected.”

“We'll do what you ask, son,” Shane promised with the understanding of a man who had been happily married for over thirty-five years. “But don't be surprised if Libby doesn't thank you for it.”

“If I didn't know better, I would think I just walked into Santa's Workshop,” Libby teased, when she finally met up with Holden and he escorted her inside the Annie's Homemade testing facility.

The McCabes gathering was a beehive of activity that included every conceivable yuletide activity. Wreaths were being made for the Kiwanis Club. Gift baskets assembled for the Blue Santa organization. Stockings sewed for the Community Chapel bazaar.

Everywhere Libby and Holden looked, there were children playing, adults laughing. Christmas carols resonated in the background, adding to the festive mood, and the sweet smell of sugar cookies scented the air.

Recognizing them immediately, Paige and Kurt's two-year-old triplets rushed over to greet them. They looked adorable in red velvet dresses, white tights and cute black boots with knit uppers. Arms outstretched, the little girls shouted, “Holden! Libby!”

Grinning, Holden scooped up Lori and Lucille. Libby picked up Lindsay. Dark curls bouncing, cherubic faces grinning blissfully, the toddlers chatted away, talking in two-or three-word sentences.

“So Santa is coming?” Libby asked, a wave of maternal
contentment flowing through her as she cradled the little one in her arms.

All three girls nodded enthusiastically.

Looking as happy as she felt, Holden asked, “Are you going to bake cookies for him?”

There were more nods, along with shouts of “cookies!”

The notion planted, the girls wiggled out of their arms and raced over to the buffet tables, where their mom was helping Annie McCabe replenish the plates of refreshments for the volunteers.

Paige and Annie waved at them before turning to give the triplets the cookies they were asking for.

Holden's mother welcomed Libby and him with warm hugs. “Thanks for coming,” she said with a beleaguered sigh, running a hand through her curls. “As you can see, we need all the help we can get. Do you want to eat or work first?”

“Work,” Holden and Libby decided in unison.

Greta gave them a considering glance. “Okay, then. I'll put you right to work. We have a lot of toys that were donated for the children's home in San Angelo that need to be wrapped, so I'll put you on that, Libby. Holden, we have some saddles that are going to the boys' ranch in Libertyville, that need to be cleaned and reconditioned…so I'll leave that to you.”

“Why so much all at once?” he asked.

It was usually a little crazy this time of year, but not
this
chaotic… And why were things being done in such a way that would keep the men and woman largely separated this evening? he wondered in frustration. Why couldn't his mother have set things up so he could be by Libby's side throughout the evening?

Not that Libby looked all that distressed about being left on her own…

Oblivious to the disgruntled nature of his thoughts, Greta answered, “Everyone in the family wants to get together. We all want to help the community. And like every year, it seems all the civic and charitable organizations want everything done at once.”

“I know what you mean,” Libby sympathized. “Every weekend in December you have to choose where you're going to go, who you're going to help. And with the library in flux this year, too…”

“A lot of events are held simultaneously,” Holden noted.

Her mind already searching for a solution to the problem, Libby murmured, “It'd be nice if they could coordinate it so more people could participate in all the events.”

“Wouldn't it?” Greta agreed wistfully, looking hopeful that Libby's idea would eventually see the light of day. “In the meantime, Holden, the saddles are out in one of the barns. Your dad can direct you. And, Libby…right this way…”

Three hours later, the tasks were completed, gifts stored or dispersed, sleepy children carried out.

Disappointed that they hadn't spent more time together—hadn't even been able to grab a bite at the same time—Holden walked Libby out to her car. He knew it was late. Nearly eleven. But he still wanted to spend time with her. The kind they would have if they'd been on an actual date.

“Want to come by my ranch and see the foal? It's been thirty-six hours since she was born, so I can remove the muzzle and let Willow have her first feeding with her mama.”

An event that for Holden was always a thrill, no matter how many horses he had bred and ushered into the world.

Luckily for him, Libby did not even hesitate. “I'll meet you there.”

 

“I
CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH
stronger she seems,” Libby murmured as Holden removed the muzzle.

They watched the foal and mare nuzzle each other in the warm and cozy straw-lined stall before getting down to the business of nursing.

Holden tenderly stroked the mother and her newborn, then paused to adjust the Velcro straps on the foal's warming blanket. Satisfied that all was as it should be, he stepped back.

Admiring how gentle he was with the horses, and how much they seemed to love him, Libby murmured, “Willow is certainly happy to be able to nurse at her mama's side.” You could practically feel the bliss radiating from them both.

Holden moved closer to Libby and folded his arms. “One of the best things about being in the horse-breeding business is the constant reminder of the wonder and the fragility of life.”

She turned toward him, her shoulder brushing his in the process. From this angle, his profile was even more rugged, his expression poignantly tender. She couldn't help but think what a good father he would be.

“Although,” Holden added, “as in most professions, there are certainly days I don't enjoy.”

Inhaling the scents of saddle soap and leather clinging to his skin, she said, “It must be really hard on you when things go wrong.”

A pained expression crossed his face. “It is,” he admitted ruefully.

Libby thought about the child he had lost to miscarriage, and the child she had wanted and never been blessed with.

The intimacy of the moment, coupled with the understanding in his eyes, prompted her to confess, “Tonight was hard, too.”

Holden swung around to face her. “Being around so much of my family?” he asked. “'Cause I know we McCabes can be overwhelming, especially en masse….”

Libby held up a hand. “No. Joining the gathering tonight was the easy part. Everyone made me feel so welcome, especially your mom and dad.” Being part of a family again, even unofficially, had felt good. “It was seeing all your cousins and siblings, the people our age, who are happily married and have kids.” She paused to look into Holden's eyes. “They were all so happy. Enjoying the holiday season so much!”

He eased out of the stall and held the door for her.

Smiling in appreciation, Libby joined him in the cement aisleway. As they headed toward the barn exit, Holden gave her a fond glance and mused, “That makes you feel like you're missing out.”

They shut the door to the heated barn and walked across the lawn, shivering in the wintry air. Impulsively, Libby slipped her hand in Holden's and eased closer to his body heat. It was late. Almost midnight. But she had no wish to go home.

Bypassing her car, she asked curiously, “Doesn't it do the same to you?”

Looking pleased she had decided to stay awhile longer, he led the way into the house. “Of course. Especially at
Christmas, but I try not to dwell on it.” He switched on lights in the foyer, living room and kitchen.

“The fact is,” he continued pragmatically, “there are a lot of happy people our age who are way ahead of us when it comes to establishing their own families. But there's really not much either of us can do to catch up.”

Unable to help herself, Libby teased, “Besides start dating again?” Which they were doing, albeit not very well, thus far.

Holden shook his head. “To create the chemistry necessary for the foundation of any enduring relationship. Bottom line, the spark between a man and a woman is either there—or it's not.”

And it was there with the two of them. How well she knew that. So the question was…what were they waiting for?

 

H
OLDEN KNEW THE INSTANT
the mood changed. Her lips parted ever so slightly. Her irises darkened. Her whole body leaned toward him.

Yet even as desire surged within him, the memory of their last tryst returned. He took her face in his hands. “If you don't want me to kiss you again…” he warned hoarsely.

Libby's hands moved from his chest to his shoulders, before clasping behind his neck. She rose on tiptoe, her breasts brushing against his pecs. “That's just it, Holden,” she whispered back. “I do.”

Blood thundered through his veins as he threaded his fingers through her hair, then lowered his mouth to hers. “Then heaven help us both,” he growled. “Because that's what I want, too.”

It didn't matter that their “dating” was supposed to be
nothing more than a means to an end, a way to get them back into the habit of going out with others. Something happened when they were together. And it was more than hormones. More than grief or guilt or the need to give her a reason to live her life fully again.

What they had together was no longer obligation, Holden thought. It was…magic. It fulfilled a need that was deeper and more powerful than anything he had ever known.

And he sensed, from the hot, passionate way she was clinging to him and returning his kisses, that she felt the fierce pull of their attraction, too.

 

L
IBBY HAD KNOWN
it was dangerous to go back to Holden's ranch tonight. More risky still to step inside the house with him, this late, with nothing on her mind except quelling the deep-seated loneliness she had been feeling.

She told herself to go with the physical part of the experience and keep her emotions safely in check.

Yet as his hard body pressed against hers, and his fingers brushed along her jaw, her skin heated and her pulse fluttered wildly. He tasted so good, so incredibly male. She moaned as his lips dominated hers and he invaded her mouth with his tongue. He kissed her so thoroughly he took her breath away, until she whimpered softly and clung to him, every inch of her tingling with need.

And he wanted her, too—she could feel it in the hardness of his body. And that left her aching and vulnerable, wanting desperately to see where lovemaking with him would lead. Despite her decision to remain unaffected, yearnings she had pushed aside came rushing to the fore. It had been so long since she had felt so feminine or desired.

Never had she been kissed and touched so gently and so masterfully.

Filled with abandon, she whispered, “Let's go upstairs.”

“I'm all for that.” Tucking an arm beneath her knees, Holden carried her to the second floor and down the hall to the master bedroom.

Her heart raced as he set her down.

Afraid she might do something really foolish—like fall head over heels in love with him—if she didn't set some parameters, Libby cautioned, “Just so we're straight. We're merely…”

Once again, he read her mind. “Practicing here?”

“Yes.”

What a relief he understood that because of their previous connections, this could never go anywhere beyond the here and now.

Holden unbuttoned her blouse and kissed her collarbone. “I am a little rusty.”

Relaxing, Libby unbuttoned his shirt, too. Tugged it from the waistband of his jeans. Damn, but he had a nice chest. Solid, warm, with satin skin and flat male nipples buried in the mat of crisp dark hair. Broad, muscular shoulders, too. She caressed it all with her fingertips. “Then that makes two of us.”

He bared her to her waist and let his glance drift over her, taking in her soft curves and jutting nipples. Exploring her breasts with his mouth, he murmured, “I'm thinking it will all come back to us.”

And come back to them it did.

They undressed each other at leisure, exploring as they went, then stretched out next to each other on the bed. Murmuring in pleasure, he kissed his way down her body.
When she arched her spine, moving against him, he shuddered, too.

“I want you now,” Libby breathed, drawing him upward once again.

Together, they sheathed him. Trembling, impatient, she opened herself to his possession. Holden caught her by the hips, lifted her, and then they were one. Overcome with sensation, shuddering with pleasure…

“You feel so good,” he whispered.

So right,
Libby thought, rising up to meet him. Her body closed around him, their coupling as honest and exciting as she had hoped it would be.

“So do you…”

Reveling in the freedom to go after exactly what she wanted—when she wanted it—she wrapped her arms and legs around him, drawing him as deep inside her as he could go. Making him aware of every soft inch of her, every need. And she was just as clued in to him. As he dived deep, she sighed and gasped in surrender. Then all reason fled, and they were lost in the passion—lost in each other—and the sweet, searing satisfaction.

 

“W
E NEED MORE
ground rules.”

Those weren't the words Holden expected to hear after making hot, wild, incredible love. He sat up in bed, watching Libby rise and begin to dress.

He had always known she had a good body. However, he had never expected her to be this beautiful, naked. Her peachy skin was silky and smooth, her feminine curves gorgeous.

He eyed the mussed strands of honey-blond hair framing her face and falling across her slender shoulders as she buttoned up her blouse.

“Rules for this?” Holden asked, admiring the view from where he sat.

Libby tugged on her jeans. “Absolutely!”

Holden slanted her a cajoling grin. “Some things are better left spontaneous.”

She wrinkled her nose at him and circled the bed. Snatching her socks off the floor, she sat down next to him to tug them on.