Page 5 of Cowboy SEAL Christmas

“But…” Monica smiled indulgently. “Becca is hardly going to allow you not to go. You’ll be there if she has to drag you to the house herself.”

Which was true, but that didn’t make him any keener to pretend like he belonged at their Thanksgiving table. Monica might not either, but she at least had a kid to not belong with.

“Would it change your mind if I offered to pay you? Think of it as a little side job.”

Insulted, Gabe slid out of the driver’s seat and stood, glaring down at her. “I don’t need your money.”

“But I need your help,” she returned, so damn calmly. “What can I do to get it?”

“Why am I surrounded by stubborn, inherently practical women?” he grumbled. Because he didn’t know what to do with it. Becca, Monica, even Rose didn’t back down until they got what they wanted. Like their very own band of sisters, dedicated to the prospect of driving him insane.

“Surely there’s something I could offer you that would be a fair barter for your help.”

He glanced down at her, holding that spring-blue-sky gaze of hers until she blinked. He couldn’t tell if it was the cold or if there was an actual blush staining her cheeks, but he had a feeling his long, unrelenting stare made her feelsomething.

But she didn’t back down.

“Maybe it’s Montana that breeds this incessant stubbornness in people,” Gabe muttered, tired of people wanting things from him. Alex and Jack wanted him to get therapy. Becca wanted him to be excited about the wedding. Monica wanted a favor. Everyone wanted something from him and he wanted…

Well, he supposed that was the problem. He didn’t know what he wanted.

“I don’t think it’s Montana, since I was born in Texas and I’ve lived just about everywhere. I’m as much a Montanan as you are, though I don’t own a cowboy hat yet.”

“Better get on it. I hear they kick you out if you don’t.”

She chuckled. “You won’t distract me.”

“Of course not. Fine, I’ll help you.” How long could it take, after all, to chop down a tree? Which gave him an idea. “On one condition.”

“All right.”

“Colin gets to cut down the tree.”

Her jaw dropped in outrage for a moment before she smoothed her expression into something calm. “Colin is ten. He’s too young.”

“That’s my condition. Take it or leave it.”

“He cannot chop down a tree!”

“Of course he can. With the right instruction. I bet Alex was chopping down trees out here before he could walk.”

“I don’t care what Alex was doing,” she returned through clenched teeth.

Gabe was enjoying this. Monica was usually such an iron fortress of calm, but anytime he got on her about being too overprotective of Colin, she snapped. He liked being the one who made her snap.

She blew out a breath, drawing on that inner sense of calm she always seemed to be able to find. He wondered if it was a never-ending well.

Everything about her looked wrapped up and cozy. He’d certainly like to see what she looked like out of control and decidedlynotcozy and—

What the hell was wrong with him? She was pretty enough, but he didn’t get mixed up with women with kids or dead husbands they’d loved. Most importantly, he didn’t get mixed up withshrinks. She’d have a field day if she ever found out about his childhood, and he wasn’t the least bit interested in reliving that.

“Those are my terms,” he said, wincing a little at how harsh his own voice sounded. She wasn’t to blame for his thoughts taking an idiotic detour. So he tried to soften it with a smile. “The kid’ll be fine.”

“Thekid,” she scoffed. “Mykid. My little boy.”

“Who’s going to spend the next few years at least hacking it through a few Montana winters. Give him the skills to do it. You’ll both be happier in the long run.”

“You sure have a lot of opinions on children and parenting,” Monica returned, cool but certainly not placid as she crossed her arms over her bundled chest.

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