Chapter One
Denver
I hated Christmas. This was no secret.
And yet, here I was, listening to my beautiful wife mumble something underneath her breath about Diana bringing in more decorations this afternoon before Mason arrived.
I’d been leaning against the closet doorframe for the last ten minutes, watching her get ready for the day.
It was five in the morning. It was also Christmas Eve.
There was a fresh coat of snow on the ground and a fuck ton of work to be done.
My wife had no business being up this early.
Her floral shop was closed for the next week and half due to this dreadful holiday.
This was technically her vacation. So why in fresh fuckin’ hell was she up before the dawn and getting ready, quietly going over her to-do list to herself as she shimmied her jeans up over her plump ass?
“Enchantress,” I called out, my voice low.
Our children were still sleeping across the hall.
Caleb and NJ were used to my early morning movements, but not Val’s.
Caleb, now a teenager, could sleep through a category five tornado, but my little girl was a light sleeper. More so if she heard her momma.
Valerie was on the other side of the bed, next to the window, as she whirled to face me.
Her dark waves were wild and frizzy as they moved with her, falling over her shoulders.
Her forest green eyes were wide with shock as she brought her hand up.
“Jesus, Den, I thought you’d already gone downstairs,” she breathed, chest heaving now.
My eyes scanned over her skin, her breasts nestled in her cream-colored bra, her stomach even softer now from her pregnancy with NJ, and her curvy legs covered in my favorite shade of denim. In her free hand, she had a hunter green cashmere sweater clutched between her fingers.
“Is there a reason you’re up with me when it’s your vacation?”
She blinked. “Den, I’m up with you a lot in the mornings.”
“Yes, when I’m in the mood to fuck you senseless before I start my day,” I deadpanned, folding my arms over my chest. Granted, I wanted that every morning, but my lover needed to walk.
If I had it my way, she wouldn’t leave the fuckin’ house.
Holding her captive wasn’t something I was willing to explain to my brother and cowboys… again.
Her cheeks heated at my words. I loved that I still had this effect on her, even after four years together.
Though we’d gone through hell together, our desire and need for one another had never faltered.
In fact, the stronger we grew as a couple, the more I craved her.
My wife’s next words were once again breathless.
This time, though, they were laced with an underlining heat that had my cock twitching.
“I-I have some work to do before NJ wakes up.”
My eyes dropped to her breasts, seeing her nipples poke through her bra, teasing me. “You’re on vacation, Valerie,” I reminded her. “There is no work for you to do. You’ve been caught up with all the work from the shop for weeks.”
“Yes, I got all my holiday orders out early,” she muttered before lifting her chin slightly. “There is…other work that needs to be done.”
My voice was soft as I scolded her. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“And you’re supposed to be down at the barn already,” she returned quickly, shifting on her feet as if she was hiding something. “Don’t you have herds to check on?”
Yeah, I was going to fuck her senseless today.
But not now.
Unfortunately, she was right.
I watched as she threw her sweater on and pulled her hair out of the collar. Her eyes were on me again, green and brighter than before. “Just want to know what you’re up to, baby,” I told her as my gut began to twist.
She shook her head, a coy smile playing on her pink lips. Yeah, she was fuckin’ hiding something.
“It’s Christmas Eve, Den.”
“It’s Thursday,” I countered, pushing off the frame as she came to me.
She knew what the holidays meant to me, but I didn’t have the heart to set that damn boundary.
Christmastime was her favorite time of year, a time that reminded her of Nancy, her wonderful mother.
This time of year, since her mother’s passing, was when she smiled the most, laughed the most, and practically came alive again.
I couldn’t take that from her or our kids.
So, I shoved down my pain to witness their happiness.
I just didn’t know how much more I could take.
“Santa is coming tonight,” she chirped, her arms snaking around my waist as she looked up at me, her warmth intoxicating.
I gripped her chin and bent, getting into her space. “Don’t give a fuck about that fat man’s schedule. I give a fuck about yours, and you’re supposed to be resting. It’s your vacation, Val. You’ve been busting your ass with the shop and NJ all year.”
She jutted her chin out, challenging me. “And when was the last time you took a vacation, hmm? When was the last time you relaxed and rested?”
“I—”
“The last time I even mentioned us going to Astoria for a vacation, you nearly fainted,” she added.
Fuckin’ brat.
“This isn’t about me,” I said, giving her a smile as I pinched her ass with my free hand. She let out a sound somewhere between a yelp and a giggle as she squirmed against me. “This is about my wife mumbling a to-do list to herself before the sun comes up.”
She glared at me, her smile falling flat. “I wasn’t mumbling anything.”
My eyes narrowed. “You’re planning something.”
My beautiful wife was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. “It’s a surprise.”
I was afraid of that. Nevertheless, I played it off and raised a brow. “For me?”
She nodded, but the look of uncertainty in her eyes gave me pause. “Yes, in a way.”
“I don’t like gifts, baby.”
Those green eyes rolled as her hands slid up my chest. “You didn’t seem to mind your birthday gift last month.”
My jaw jumped. “Because it was you naked and bent over my desk in the barn loft, wearing my hat. Why in the hell would I mind that?”
“Denver!” she hissed, looking toward our bedroom door. She swatted at me. “That was too loud.”
I opened my mouth, but my cell vibrated in my pocket. Stepping away from her, I pulled out the device and grumbled, “That’s Mags, I bet.”
“Oh, probably,” Valerie laughed before disappearing into the closet.
“I’m on my way down there,” I answered, rolling my neck.
“If you’re up there still in bed with your wife while I left Diana in mine, I’m beating your ass until the new year,” my friend growled. “It’s cold as shit and the twins are one fuckup away from meeting God on Christmas Eve.”
“It’s Thursday,” I clipped, going to Valerie and kissing her forehead. “Love you, beautiful.”
She smiled at me, the sight nearly bringing me to my knees. “Love you, honey.”
As I walked down the stairs, Mags began telling me all the ways the ranch would benefit without the twins.
“We can’t lose them, Mags,” I said, shaking my head as I poured my coffee into my thermos. “I can’t believe the ranch is finally in a good place, and you want to kill our extra hands.”
“I’ll find you better ones,” he shot back. “Get down here and get them sorted. Or I burn them.”
The line went dead, and as I threw on my coat and hat, I looked into the living room, feeling a chill sweep down my neck.
My mother’s rocking chair was still illuminated by the firelight, tugging at memories of my childhood.
Suddenly, as the past enveloped me, I could practically hear Mason and a younger me running down the hall, our new boots on our feet as Momma knitted a sweater in that chair.
A lump formed in my throat as my eyes cut to the opposite corner, where a large Christmas tree stood, red and golden balls hanging from its branches.
On top, there was an angel, one that Caleb had painted when he was in elementary school.
Valerie told me it tied all the decor together in a comforting bow.
I thought it was all bullshit.
The gifts.
The decorations.
The show of it all.
My eyes dropped down to the presents, neatly wrapped and placed on top of the wool tree skirt Nancy had given Valerie. Pain splintered in my throat as the lump morphed into a shard of glass, hearing the voice of my father now.
Christmas was only important to your mother. Not to me. She’s gone now and so is that fuckin’ holiday.
With a painful inhale, I turned away from the living room, yanked open the front door, and disappeared into the bitter cold.