Page 10 of Cowboy Stolen Kiss for Christmas

Flint shook his head in disgust. “I hate to break it to you, but there’s no such thing as a pickup rider on a date. Despite how much I like Laura, I think she’s using you, bro.”

“Not true. I’m the one who offered to have her back.” Ames raised his hands in defense of her. “This was my idea from start to finish. Not hers. I even suggested the venue.”

Flint looked even more disgusted as he stood and pushed his stool back from the table. “Just give me one good reason why you’re gonna put yourself out there for her like that.” His expression indicated he didn’t think anything good would come from it.

Ames spread his hands. “She’s the one, Flint. That’s my reason. My one and only reason.”

“Man,” Flint groaned, yanking off his Stetson and sending it flying like a frisbee onto their leather sofa in the living room. It was a good shot. His hat landed on the middle cushion and stayed. He swung back in his older brother’s direction. “Are you sure about this? About her?”

Ames nodded. His youngest brother was rarely serious. On the few occasions when he was, Ames preferred to give him the bald-faced truth. “I’ve prayed about our relationship enough to know that she’s the one for me.”

“Even though she’s dating another guy?” Flint still didn’t look convinced. He unbuttoned his fleece plaid shirt and shrugged out of it, revealing a navy graphic t-shirt underneath.

Ames knew what it looked like, but he couldn’t do anything about that. Not right this second, at any rate. “Pretty sure this is a onetime meet up, and I wouldn’t call it a date.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Flint tipped his head back to emit a howl of supreme frustration at the ceiling.

“Trying not to,” Ames admitted ruefully. “I get how it sounds to you, bro, but I’m too busy keeping the faith to dwell on the negative.”

“I want to believe you. I do. But what if you’re wrong?” Flint met his gaze again, looking like he was tasting something sour.

Ames spread his hands. “If that ends up being the case,” and he would be praying hard that it wasn’t, “I can return home to run Canyon Creek Ranch ahead of the rest of y’all. Permanently, if that’s where I’m needed the most.” The three of them had never intended to be away from Dallas for this long. Though they had a top-notch foreman helping oversee the day-to-day operations of their horse ranch, it wasn’t the same as being directly involved. There was no substitute for hands-on management. If one of the brothers didn’t return home soon, they might as well start discussing the pros and cons of selling the place.

Flint was silent for a moment. Then he shook his head dejectedly. “The lengths a guy will go to dodge an arm wrestling rematch.”

Ames barked out a laugh, appreciating the note of levity Flint had managed to introduce into a conversation that was getting way too serious. “Whatever you have to tell yourself to make you feel better about losing tonight.” Before his youngest brother could formulate a worthy comeback, he moved to the side of the living room to jog up the stairs. His bedroom was located on the second floor.

Whistling to drown out any further pithy commentary from below, he cut across his bedroom and headed straight for the shower. Peeling out of his coffee stained clothing, he stepped beneath the hot spray.

“Lord, depending on how things go in the morning, I may need You to step in as my Pickup Rider.” Laura was right about him. Despite his scarred and callused hands and arms, his heart was far from bullet proof, especially where she was concerned.

He was already bracing himself for the possibility she might decide to reconcile with her ex in the morning, instead of showing him the road like he deserved. Despite the strong front Ames had attempted to put on in front of Flint, keeping the faith where Laura was concerned was turning out to be one of the toughest challenges he’d ever faced.

After staring at the ceiling most of the night, Ames rolled out of bed and yanked on his jeans before his alarm went off. He’d checked online the evening before to verify the hours of operation for the Peppermint Palace. They opened at eight o’clock on the dot — right when Laura was scheduled to meet her ex there. Ames planned to be first in line and seated before they were. If she happened to catch sight of him getting served ahead of her, that was even better.

Flint was already nursing a cup of coffee when Ames strode into the kitchen. He was staring out the window over the sink with his elbows resting on the countertop.

Ames stifled a yawn. “I’m not awake enough for a rematch, if that’s why you’re here.” He purposely bumped into Flint on his way to the coffee pot, making some of his coffee slosh over the rim of his cup into the sink.

“Now you owe me a cup of coffee and a rematch.” Flint straightened and arched his back lazily to stretch it.

“It was one sip. Get over it.” Ames reached for the pot Flint had brewed and helped himself to a brimming mug of it.

“Don’t think I will,” the punk drawled. “I let one rematch slide, and now you’re pushing coffee boundaries. You’re out of control, bro.”

Ames stomped to the bar and hiked one hip up on a stool. “Do me a favor and hold the drama king routine until I’ve downed my first cup of joe. Better yet, save it until after I leave the house.”

“I gotta better idea.” Flint followed him to the bar and leaned forward on the counter, facing him. His hair was still tousled from sleep, and his plaid shirt wasn’t yet buttoned over his undershirt.

“I seriously doubt it,” Ames grumbled into his mug of coffee, trying to ignore him. Unfortunately, Flint was a force of nature that wasn’t easy to ignore.

“Then you’d be wrong, because I’m coming with you,” his youngest brother announced, spreading his hands grandly and nearly spilling his coffee again.

Ames was sorely regretting ever confiding in him. “Nobody invited you, brat.”

“Not true.” Flint carefully set down his mug. “I distinctly recall you saying you’re on your way to the Peppermint Palace this morning to serve as Laura’s pickup rider.”

“Yes. Alone.” It was all Ames could do not to curl his lip in disgust every time he heard the overly Christmassy sounding name of the restaurant spoken out loud. Only in Pinetop. Nearly every avenue in town was decorated to a postcard worthy level. The shop owners kept their holiday lights up year round, and so did a good number of the residents. Their constant display of Christmas spirit bordered on ridiculous.

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