A Cowboy Under The Mistletoe. Vicki Lewis Thompson

lights go first.” She handed him the strand. “There’s a plug right by the tree. I only have two of these, but that should be enough.”

      “Should be.” He leaned down and plugged in the lights. The multicolored glow brought an unexpected tightening in his throat. Damn, now was not the time to get all mushy.

      He never had when he’d helped with the Thunder Mountain tree. But that had been a noisy, rowdy process filled with teasing and arguments among the guys about light and ornament placement. This intimate evening with just the two of them was a lot closer to his childhood Christmases.

      “Good. They work.” She stood. “If you’ll unplug them for a minute, I’ll be right back. I forgot to start the Christmas music.”

      He almost asked her to forget the music, but that wouldn’t be fair. If she was anything like his folks had been, then she loved decorating a tree while listening to carols. He’d loved it, too. He could do this.

      She left the room. Moments later, an instrumental version of Silent Night started up, and he sighed in relief. That wasn’t the version his parents had played.

      Funny, but he hadn’t thought helping her with this would be any kind of problem after all these years. He held the strand of lights and waited for her to come back, but she was taking a while. Maybe she was checking her teeth for bits of Chinese food.

      When she finally reappeared, she gave him a bright smile. “That’s better. You can’t decorate a tree without carols, right?”

      “Right.” Unless he was mistaken, her smile was a little too bright, almost as if she’d had to force it. And her mascara was slightly smudged, too. “Are you okay?”

      “Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “It’s stupid, really. I’m almost twenty-seven years old and I’ve lived on my own ever since I graduated from college. But even after I moved out and had my own tree, I always went over to my folks’ house to help with theirs. Hearing Silent Night got to me a little bit.”

      “Do you want to skip the music?”

      “No! It’s part of the tradition and I love Christmas carols. I’ll be fine. It’s just that I’ve always been there so I have to get used to being here, instead.”

      “If you’re sure, because I don’t have to have it on.”

      “Well, I do.” She sounded determined. “I can’t imagine decorating a tree without Christmas music.” Taking a deep breath, she gazed at him. “Ready to plug those lights in again?”

      “You bet.” Too bad he couldn’t pull her into his arms for a sympathetic hug, but ironically he didn’t know her well enough for that kind of friendly, nonthreatening embrace. When he took her in his arms for the first time, he didn’t want her to wonder about his motivation.

      He arranged the lights across the bottom front of the tree and halfway around the back. Then he placed what was left of the strand in her outstretched hand so she could continue around to the front again. That brief touch of her warm fingers made him long for more contact.

      A few kisses would be okay, but he’d stop before things went too far. They were both feeling vulnerable, which wasn’t a good way to begin a sexual relationship. Judging from the mood developing between them, he was fairly sure they would end up having one, even if they did live five hours apart.

      “This would have been tougher working alone.” She handed the lights off to him. “Come to think of it, when I trimmed my apartment tree in Cheyenne, I always roped somebody into helping me.” She laughed. “So I’m continuing my pattern. Consider yourself roped in.”

      “Glad to do it.” And he was, even if he’d had a bad moment at first. “I’m ready for the next set of lights.”

      He admired the ripple of her golden hair as she leaned over to pull out the second strand. He imagined running his fingers through it and gazing into her eyes. He wanted to taste those full lips. He closed his eyes briefly as he imagined how amazing that would feel.

      “Ty?”

      “Sorry.” Caught. He took the lights she held out to him. “Got distracted.” He joined the first set to the second and thought of the terminology for the connecting ends—male and female plugs. He and his foster brothers used to joke about that when they were raunchy teenagers who thought about sex constantly.

      “You must have been thinking of something nice.”

      “I was.”

      She didn’t pursue it, which probably meant she knew the sort of thing he’d been thinking about.

      They traded the bunched cord back and forth, winding the lights around the branches until Ty looped the end at the top. Then they both stepped back and squinted at the lit tree to check placement.

      “It’s almost perfect,” she said. “But there’s a blank space in the middle.”

      “I see it.” He stepped forward and adjusted one strand lower. Then he backed up. “I think that does it.”

      “I think so, too.”

      He heard something in her voice, something soft and yielding that made his heart beat faster. He glanced over at her. She was staring right back at him, her eyes dark and her breathing shallow. If any woman had ever looked more ready to be kissed, he’d eat his hat.

      And damned if he could resist her. His gaze locked with hers and his body tightened as he stepped closer. Slowly he combed his fingers through hair that felt as silky as he’d imagined. “We haven’t finished with the tree.”

      “I know.” Her voice was husky. “And there’s the dancing afterward...”

      “We were never going to do that.” He pressed his fingertips into her scalp and tilted her head back. “But I think we were always going to do this.” And he lowered his head.

      She awaited him with lips parted. After the first gentle pressure against her velvet mouth, he sank deeper with a groan of pleasure. So sweet, so damned perfect. She tasted like wine, better than wine, better than anything he could name.

      The slide of her arms around his waist sent heat shooting through his veins. As she nestled against him, he took full command of the kiss, swallowing her moan as he thrust his tongue into her mouth.

      She welcomed him, slackening her jaw and inviting him to explore. He caught fire, shifting his angle and making love to her mouth until they were both breathing hard and molded together. As he’d known, they fit exactly.

      He registered the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips and the press of her thighs. His cock hardened. The red haze of lust threatened to wipe out his good intentions, but he caught himself before he slid his hands under her sweater. Gulping for air, he released her and stepped back.

      Looking into eyes filled with the same need pounding through him nearly had him reaching for her again. He fisted his hands at his sides. “Let’s...maybe we should...back off for a bit.”

      She swallowed. “Okay. Care to say why?”

      “I had a really valid reason a second ago.”

      She laughed. “It’s a good thing you’re so damned cute. I’ll give you a minute to collect your thoughts.”

      “Thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck and struggled for clarity.

      “You did say there’s no girlfriend.”

      “Right. No girlfriend.” Then he remembered why they needed to put the brakes on. Boy, she’d really fried his circuits. But the tree trimming had stirred up neediness in both of them. She might not be overly affected by it, but he was.

      Saying all that out loud, though, would mean bringing up a touchy subject, one he wasn’t prepared to discuss at the moment. Maybe a distraction was in order. “What’s your schedule tomorrow?”

      “My