Rancher's Covert Christmas Read online

  “I’ll be responsible, Dad,” she teased. With that, she winked at him and sashayed to the truck while he stood in the pool of moonlight and watched.

  Erin climbed into the truck, inhaling again the scents that lingered there. Hay, mud, sweat—but overriding them all was the distinct scent that she could only call Zane. A spicy tang, a clean crispness that held notes of pine and leather...and was it citrus? Whether the aroma came from his deodorant, an aftershave or some other grooming product, she couldn’t say. But the fresh odor filled her nose and sent a tingle of awareness scampering down her spine. She’d only been at the Double M a few days, yet she already knew she could pick Zane from a lineup based only on his seductive scent.

  She cranked the truck engine, then to tease Zane, she raced the motor. Predictably, he jerked his chin higher and took a step closer, a look of panic filling his chiseled features. Chuckling to herself, she shifted into gear and drove slowly across the yard until she’d pulled alongside the tall blue spruce. The strings of Christmas lights had been abandoned at the base of the tree, as if disturbing them was bad luck. All of the decorations for the tree were just where they’d been at the moment Dave had fallen and broken his leg.

  When she climbed down from the front seat, Zane was waiting for her, a sarcastic grin twisting his mouth. “You’re not funny.”

  Her grin spread wider. “Oh, but your reaction was.” She patted his chest, and even through his thick winter coat, she could feel the solid muscle that lay beneath the suede and fleece. “You need to unwind a little, cowboy. Life is more enjoyable if you’re not tied in knots all the time.”

  Her assessment met with wide eyes and a stunned sort of choking noise. Brushing past him, she bent to scoop the strings of lights, draping them over her arm, then piling them on the bed of his truck.

  Roused by the new activity, Ace and Checkers trotted back out and hopped onto the bed of the truck, wiggling with excitement and thumping their tails.

  Zane put his hand on Erin’s shoulder as she stooped for a second armful. “You don’t need to do that. Some else will get those.”

  “Will they? It’s been how many days? And I’m kinda afraid that whoever does move them will just put them back in a box.” She carried the lights to the back of his Tundra, then hoisted herself onto the bed, laughing when Checkers licked her face. “And I’m of the opinion that the Double M could use a bit of Christmas cheer.” She plucked one strand from the bed as she stood. Erin saw immediately that the truck bed didn’t get her as high as she’d need to be to reach the top branches. “That is one tall tree,” she said, tipping her head as she considered the spruce.

  The truck jostled as Zane joined her. “What are you doing?”

  Although his tone made it clear he knew perfectly well what she was up to, she sent him a side glance and a smug grin. “Decorating the tree. Want to tune that satellite radio I saw in the cab to some Christmas tunes to set the mood?”

  “Seriously?” He tried to take the lights from her hand, and she tugged them back.

  “Either help or get out of the way. But this tree is getting its halls decked with yuletide...something or other.”

  He snorted. “For someone who loves Christmas, you’re kinda twisting those carols a bit.”

  She thunked him in the stomach with the back of her hand. “Are you going to play the radio or what?”

  He rolled his eyes and jumped down from the truck bed, the dogs following him. While he scrolled through satellite stations, searching for seasonal music, she draped the strand of lights on the closest part of the tree, weaving them through the branches and around the glass balls that had never been removed. She quickly needed more elevation to reach the higher boughs. Moving a few strands to the top of the cab, she used the walls of the bed as footholds to climb. Balancing carefully, she crawled to the roof of the cab and rose to her feet. Keeping her center of gravity shifted to her heels, she stretched to place lights on the evergreen.

  “What the hell?” Zane shouted, startling her. “Erin, are you crazy?” He quickly climbed on the truck bed again and hurried toward her. “Are you trying to break your leg, too? Or your neck?”

  “Of course not. But I want to reach—”

  “Get down!” His tone reflected panic more than anger.

  She glared at him. “Do you have another ladder we can use?”

  “I—Not that I know of. But that doesn’t matter.” He edged closer and put a hand on her ankle. “What you’re doing is risky.”

  “So...you come up here. You can hold me.”

  From the door he’d left open to the cab, the jingling refrains of “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” played into the cold night. With a frustrated-sounding sigh, he hoisted himself onto the roof of the cab.

  As Zane got to his feet, Erin had to brace her legs in a wide stance and shift her weight to keep her balance as the truck rocked.

  He eased over to her and, with a scowl, put a hand at her waist. “You really are stubborn, you know that?”

  “My father called it persistence. I know what I want and don’t settle.” She flashed a teasing grin as she faced the tree and raised a string of lights toward a top branch. She hummed along with the radio and looped the electric wires around the limbs.

  Through her coat, she could feel Zane’s grip tighten, and she heard his boots thump as he rearranged his feet. Finally, with a tug, he pulled her away from the tree. “Hang on.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and gasped her surprise when she found him shucking his boots and yanking off his socks. “What are you doing?”

  “Sacrificing my feet to your little project.” He quirked an eyebrow as if to say, I hope you’re satisfied. “I have no traction in my boots. I’ll have a better grip with my bare feet.”

  She glanced down at said feet. Long and sturdy-looking, no crooked toes or bunions for her cowboy! She shook the pronoun from her head. Not hers. Just...Zane. “You don’t—” Erin shivered, imagining how cold the truck roof and night air must be for him. “But that’s—”

  “Let’s just get done with this, okay?” He wiggled a finger, motioning her to turn around. This time, he planted his feet, squared his hips and wrapped an arm around her waist, reaching under her coat to grip her sweater.

  Confident in his hold, she leaned forward, stretched up and flung the remaining light strands onto the highest branches. Standing on her tiptoes, his solid strength mooring her, she poked and fiddled until the arrangement pleased her. As she settled back on her heels and pivoted toward him, she said, “You realize that’s just one side of the tree. We need to move the truck to get the other sides.”

  He replied with a grumble from his throat. “All right. But you will step down onto the bed before this truck goes anywhere.”

  His eyes glittered with determination, and her pulse kept time with the rat-a-tat-tat of the Little Drummer Boy’s drum from the radio as she held his gaze. She could too easily imagine herself climbing onto a different sort of bed with him. Zane would be a caring but commanding lover, she decided, and a trill of anticipation stirred under her skin when she considered testing her theory.

  “Right,” she said in answer to his directive. Her voice sounded winded and raspy to her own ears.

  Zane cocked his head, narrowing his gaze on her briefly and drawing a deep breath that made his nostrils flare, before he stepped back. Offering his hand, he helped her step down, then after shooing the dogs off the front seat, he climbed back into the cab to pull the truck up against the opposite side of the spruce.

  They repeated the process—him holding her waist while she leaned against his strong arms to reach the top boughs—until all the lights had been evenly strung on the tree. Satisfied with her work, she rocked back on her heels and stepped away from the edge of the cab’s roof...and onto his toe.

  He hissed in pain, and she quickly sidestepped, only to have her sho
e slip on the slick metal of the roof. When she stumbled, he grabbed her arm and quickly hauled her up against his chest. She clutched his shoulders, and Zane’s arms slipped around her in an instant, anchoring her.

  Adrenaline had stolen her breath, but as she lifted her face to Zane’s, she sucked in a lungful of chilled air. “Oops.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” His black eyebrows went up again in another silent What’d I tell you? “You okay?”

  She bobbed her head but didn’t let go of him. The moon had come out from behind a wispy cloud and cast a pale silver light across his face. His gaze—that damnably hypnotic gaze of his—reflected the lunar light like stars set against his dark features. Mesmerized, she stared up at him, and again her breath stuck in her lungs. The tip of her tongue slipped out to moisten her chapped lips, and his pupils grew like those of a predator spotting its prey.

  His splayed hand skimmed up from the small of her back to the nape of her neck. He nudged her forward, and her pulse spiked.

  As he dipped his head, his piercing gaze remained locked on hers. He gave her the merest of kisses, a brush of his lips against hers, while his gaze delved deeply into hers. A ripple of desire rolled through her, shaking her to her core.

  How could such a small kiss have such a huge impact on her? Her heart drumming against her ribs and the whoosh of blood past her ears played harmony to Nat King Cole crooning from the radio about chestnuts on an open fire.

  Let me tell you about open fires, Nat. Because, oh, yes. Flames licked her veins and heated her core.

  Zane’s scrutiny was still fixed on her, his mouth hovering just over hers while he silently searched her face, questioning her. Erin answered his unvoiced query by plowing her fingers into his hair and dragging him to her. She slanted her lips over his in a deep kiss that left nothing to chance or uncertainty.

  A growl of approval rumbled from his throat. His arms wrapped around her, one hand on the back of her head, another on her buttocks. He held her tight, pressed close to his body...which was fortunate, because the sensation of his warm lips devouring hers made her head spin and her legs buckle. Shimmering sparks sizzled from her core to her limbs until her whole body was alive, jangling, yearning. She locked her knees, stretched up on her toes to reposition her mouth, to open wider to his exploration and delve more deeply into the mysteries that were Zane.

  Her head spun, drunk on the crisp scent of evergreen, winter air and manly musk. The romantic melody of “The Christmas Song” and Nat King Cole’s velvet voice wrapped them in a sensual cocoon, and the moonlight painted them in silver intimacy.

  She lost track of how long they stood on top of his truck, kissing, touching, straining to press closer to each other, but one Christmas song blended into another, then another. Only when the jarring squeak of a chipmunk on the radio shouting “Okay!” blasted through the still night did Zane raise his head and suck in a ragged breath.

  “Wow,” she whispered, fighting to regain her mental balance. As she canted back from him, she bumped his foot with hers. Squashed it, really. “Ooh, sorry!”

  He shook his head. “You didn’t hurt me. At this point, my feet are basically numb.”

  She jerked her gaze to his bare feet, remembering belatedly that he’d shed his boots for better traction. “Oh, my gosh! You have to be freezing!”

  He twitched his cheek in a half grin. “My toes are pretty cold, but the rest of me...” he brushed her hair behind her ears and pinned his bright blue gaze on her “...is burning.”

  As if to prove his point, he tucked her chilled hands inside the collar of his shirt just above his collarbone. His skin was hot, and by inching her fingers up toward his throat, she could feel the steady throb of his pulse in the vein at the side of his neck. The tender spot rescuers used for proof of life.

  Not only was Zane alive, he was warm and tantalizing and making her feel more alive than she had in many years. Since her brother had died, a part of her had been dead, as well. Even after she’d helped root out the truth about his murder, his absence in her life was a void she’d not moved past. Never would.

  She gave her head a little shake. She didn’t want to think about Sean now. She wanted to savor this moment with Zane. Because she knew by dawn’s light tomorrow, she’d have come to her senses about a physical entanglement with someone she was, technically, investigating.

  Did she really think Zane was involved with the sabotage to his family ranch? No. But losing objectivity would not help her find the real culprit.

  She stroked the back of her fingers from his throat along his strong, square jaw, murmuring, “What do you say we give the lights some juice and enjoy our handiwork, then get your feet inside and warmed up?”

  “An excellent idea.” He swung down from the roof of the cab to the bed and held out a hand to help her down. While he tugged his socks and boots back on, she jumped from the tailgate to the frozen ground.

  At the base of the spruce tree, she plugged all of the light strands together, then to an extension cord. Zane took the coiled power cord from her and marched toward the barn, unlooping the cord as he disappeared across the shadowed ranch yard.

  “Ready?” he called a moment later from inside the barn.

  Seized by the desire to have him by her side when the tree was lit, she bent to unplug the extension cord from the linked light strands. “Yes,” she called back.

  A moment later, he approached, groaning when he found the tree dark. “Well, damn. That’s anticlimactic. There must be a bad wire or blown bulb or—”

  “Or—” she held up the two loose ends of the power cords “—I was waiting for you.”

  A grin ghosted over his lips as he moved up beside her. “Shall I provide a drumroll?”

  “I’d rather have a kiss for luck.”

  Something hot flashed in his eyes, and he bent to capture her lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

  Before he could lift his mouth from hers, she connected the cords, and the magical glow of lights from the tree flooded the yard with holiday cheer. Sliding an arm around Zane’s waist, she leaned sideways into him as she drank in the wondrous sight.

  A bittersweet joy filled her chest as she admired the shimmering lights. As much as she loved the holiday and the twinkling bulbs, their gleam always reminded her of the brother she’d lost. Decorating the family tree had been a tradition she’d shared with Sean from the time they were old enough to walk. Being older and several inches taller than her, Sean handled the top of the tree while she and their sister, Kelly, decked the lower branches with as many baubles and tinsel as their annual fir could hold. Thinking back, she knew her zealous decor must have looked gaudy, but their parents never tried to modify her efforts and would praise the tree as the most beautiful ever. Moisture gathered in her eyes as she admired the towering spruce, and she would swear the wink of lights reflecting from the red glass balls was Sean sending a hello from beyond. It’s the most beautiful tree ever, she heard him whisper in her mind.

  Erin blinked hard and cleared the thickness that her sentimental sidetrack left in her throat.

  “Good work. It looks great,” Zane said, draping his arm over her shoulders and giving her a little squeeze.

  “I only finished what Dave and Brady had started. I believe in giving credit where it is due.”

  “Well, thank you for finishing it. It may have gone neglected otherwise, and you are right that the ranch could use a bit of cheer.” His expression dimmed as if his thoughts had turned to the misfortunes the ranch had suffered in recent months.

  She wanted to pick his brain about those events and decided she had the perfect opportunity at hand. “I propose we toast our handiwork with a cup of hot cocoa in the guesthouse. Will you join me?”

  He inhaled slowly and deeply, his mouth twisted in a skeptical pucker.

  “We can build a fire to warm your feet up,” she added before he could refuse.
“And...I think I saw some bourbon in the kitchenette if you want your cocoa with an extra touch of holiday cheer.”

  The reluctance in his face softened, and he lifted a corner of his mouth in a faint acquiescent smile. “All right, then.”

  He returned to the driver’s side of his truck to turn off the satellite radio and retrieve his keys from the ignition.

  As they reached the door of the guesthouse, she glanced back at the spruce, glowing in the dark of the cold winter night like a beacon of hope. Hope was what the folks at the Double M needed amid the recent setbacks and sadness. And hope was what she intended to give them.

  * * *

  Zane crouched in front of the stone fireplace in the guesthouse, arranging the logs and kindling just so. Josh was more haphazard when stacking wood for a fire, but Zane believed any job worth doing was worth doing right. With precision.

  “That’s funny,” Erin muttered in the kitchenette.

  He cast her a side glance and found her chewing her bottom lip as she stared into the upper cabinets. His brain flashed back to the kiss they’d shared and the feel of those lips beneath his own. Soft and warm. Inviting. Sweet and tantalizing.

  His body hummed with a renewed arousal as his gaze drifted over her feminine curves. As if she felt his perusal, she turned her face toward him.

  “I don’t see it here anymore.” She propped her hand on her hip and closed the cabinet door.

  “Don’t see what?”

  “The bottle of bourbon. I would swear it was up there yesterday.” She stooped to check the bottom cabinets. “But it’s not here.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Plain cocoa is fine.” He faced the fireplace again and struck a match. The tinder caught and blazed, and he bent to gently blow on the flames, feeding them the oxygen. As the fire grew brighter, he sat back on his heels and admired his handiwork before closing the fire screen.

  Erin met him at the small couch and handed him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. “Some mischievous elf must have appropriated it while I slept.”