Chapter 16
Santa Claus Is Coming To Town
Can a person die from too many orgasms?
Shep made good on his promise, keeping me going until dawn.
I cried out his name until my voice broke, losing track of how many times he pushed me over the edge after my sixth release.
The man has the stamina of a wild mustang, and I could barely keep up.
After letting me sleep in, I woke up to him peppering kisses along my collarbone as he pushed inside me.
He must have gone outside beforehand, judging by his cold hands and the faint scent of pine and winter air.
Regardless, it was a pleasant way to start the day—one that I’d take any morning.
God, being with him has allowed me to explore a part of myself I didn’t know existed. It’s not just the mind-blowing sex—he’s considerate, kind, and even tender when the situation calls for it. Saying yes to staying after the storm passed was easily the best decision I’ve made in ages.
Lying in his sheets with his fingerprints etched on my skin, I’m second-guessing my decision to leave the day after Christmas. There’s no way two days is long enough to satisfy my desire for him.
After our last round of escapades, Shep showered and then disappeared to the kitchen, and the sweet aroma of cinnamon and vanilla tells me he must have made breakfast. My stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten since we left for the honky-tonk last night.
I climb out of bed and grab one of his flannels hanging from the closet door and put it on.
As I pass the living room, a silly grin spreads across my face at the sight of the tree by the fireplace. Its twinkling lights fill the room with a warm, cozy glow. Atop the tree is a wooden star that wasn’t there before, so I’m guessing Shep placed it there this morning.
Just as I suspected, he’s at the kitchen counter whisking batter.
What I didn’t expect is him humming along to “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” playing from the radio on top of the microwave.
His hair is damp, and he’s wearing nothing but his Wranglers, riding low on his hips.
His bare chest is all broad planes and hard muscle, and my tongue darts out to wet my lips.
Tired or not, I wouldn’t object if he carried me back to bed right now.
His face lights up when he notices me, and I slip behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Hey there, cowboy. So you decorating for the holidays wasn’t a dream,” I murmur, running my hands along his stomach.
He might have done it for me, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s just as much for him. A way to honor his mom and to remember the joy of celebrating this season.
“Nope, it’s real.” Shep sets aside the batter and turns around to kiss me.
“There’s plenty more where that came from.
With Christmas only two days away, we’ve got to squeeze in all the traditions you’ve missed this year and sprinkle in a few from my family too.
” I blink, stunned, wondering if this is real life.
God, I hope so.
“You mean it?” I exclaim.
He nods. “I know it’s hard being away from your parents, but I’ll be damned if you don’t get the Christmas you deserve.
First up, eggnog waffles.” He gestures to the vintage waffle maker on the counter.
“When I was a kid, my dad woke up early on Fridays to make breakfast so Mom could sleep in. Every month, he’d try a new waffle flavor, and in December, it was always eggnog. ”
“A girl could get used to mornings like this,” I say with a sated smile.
“Good, because if cooking makes you smile like that, I’ll be in the kitchen every morning.”
I roll my eyes, playfully swatting his chest. “Please don’t tell me sleeping together has made you go all Hallmark on me. I rather like your grumpy side.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be cursing at the waffle iron in no time and we’ll be right back to normal.”
I wipe my brow with exaggerated flair. “Thank god. I’d have to stage an intervention if you started smiling all the time or, heaven forbid, traded in your flannel for matching holiday pajamas.”
He leans back, eyes wide in mock shock. “Whoa there. Too far.”
“Maybe there’s hope for you yet.” I laugh, draping my hands around his neck. “So what’s on the agenda after breakfast?”
I’m already giddy thinking about what he could have planned, especially since whatever it is will be Christmas-themed. When he smiles, his eyes shining with mischief and warmth, my stomach does a little flip. There’s nothing better than seeing him happy, and I’m lucky to get a front-row seat.
In Christmases past, I thought the key to a perfect holiday was family traditions, giving to those in need, and finding meaningful gifts for everyone I loved. Staying with Shep, surrounded by nature and living simply, has taught me that it’s much less complicated than that.
The heart of the season lies in finding joy in the small, beautiful moments. It doesn’t require grand gestures or flawless planning—just sharing it with someone special. And Shep has quickly become the one to teach me the beauty in slowing down and creating holiday memories I’ll treasure forever.
He kisses my forehead. “After breakfast, we’ll check on the animals, then head out. Our stop is close to the edge of my property.”
“Sounds ominous,” I tease. “You sure you can’t tell me what we’re doing?”
My mind races with possibilities—building snowmen, taking a sleigh ride, or making snow angels… The options are endless, and I can’t wait to see what’s in store.
“You’ll see soon enough,” Shep says, chuckling when my stomach rumbles. “But first, let’s get some food in you.”
I rise on my toes to kiss him. “Deal. I’ll whip up some hot chocolate to go with the waffles.”
“Sounds like a mighty fine plan,” he replies as he kisses me back.
“You’ve got this, Maple,” I coax with a gentle tug on her lead rope.
She plants her back hooves into the snow as though my pep talk personally offends her.
I huff, brushing my hair from my face. “Ten feet. That’s all I’m asking for. After those two apples I gave you, I’d say that’s more than reasonable, don’t you think?”
She tosses her head from side to side with a soft grunt. Great. I’m being rejected by a baby cow.
Unbelievable.
It’s no wonder she and Shep get along so well. They’re equally obstinate and resistant to change. Yet they’re both also irresistibly endearing, outweighing their stubborn nature.
After Shep whipped up a delicious batch of eggnog waffles this morning, he brought me to the barn so I could hang out with Maple while he chopped wood.
I was brushing her down when a wild idea popped into my head: What if I took her to the cabin?
Sure, she’s the size of a Saint Bernard, but she deserves a cozy playdate.
We could snuggle on the floor by the fire while we watch a Christmas movie, and I’d make us popcorn.
I mean, I don’t know for sure if cows can even eat that, but I’ll check online.
The last thing I want is her getting sick, and turning Shep’s living room into a buttery, slobbery disaster zone won’t win me any favors with the man.
The first step of my genius plan is getting her to the cabin, and the truck isn’t exactly cow-friendly. That’s why I’ve been trying to teach her to walk on a lead. Keyword: trying.
The problem is that when she’s told to come, she only takes a few steps, and at this rate, covering the half mile to our destination will take ages—not to mention the mountain of apples needed to bribe her.
I switch hands holding the rope and pull out another apple slice, dangling it under Maple’s twitching nose. “Come, Maple. Please?”
She eyes the treat with suspicion, acting as if she’s never obeyed the command in her life.
“Don’t you want to come to the cabin? It’s warm, and I’ll put together a yummy veggie-and-fruit tray for you. We can watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Shep got the animated version, which is hands down the best.”
Not only did Shep task Stewart with decorating the cabin, but he also had him pick up a stash of holiday movies on VHS from the local rental store.
It’s likely one of the last of its kind, but it’s fitting since Shep is old-school and still owns a tape player.
I want to get him a DVD player for Christmas so he can catch up on the modern classics that never came out on VHS.
I’ll have to ask Casey where to find one in town if I see him again.
Maple flops in the snow with a plaintive moo, acting like she’s totally wiped out even though she’s barely gone a few yards from the barn. She’s clearly unimpressed with my attempt at bribing her with snacks and a movie.
“You’re totally messing with me, aren’t you, girl?”
I drop the lead rope, prepared to admit defeat, when my ringtone slices through the stillness. I peel off a glove and swipe to answer the video chat, Gemma’s face filling the screen.
She’s sitting cross-legged on a bed, painting her nails. Her black hair is pulled into a braid that hangs over her shoulder, and her oversized sweatshirt swallows her slight frame.
“Morning, Gem.”
“Oh, good, you’re standing. That means your ankle’s better, right?
” She purses her lips, giving me a slow, suspicious once-over.
“On second thought, that’s kind of a bummer.
I had my heart set on a dramatic mountain rescue so I could be there to check out the medics. Figured one of them would be hot.”
“Glad my prolonged suffering wouldn’t have been wasted and might have scored you some eye candy,” I deadpan.
She lifts her left hand, blowing on her freshly painted nails. “Can you blame me? Vermont isn’t exactly overflowing with good-looking men who have stable jobs.”
“What about Crew?” I ask smugly.
She’s been keeping me up on all her holiday drama over text, while I’ve been dodging questions about Shep.