Page 25 of Cowboy Wolf Christmas

“I know,” he said. “I know, Cheyenne.”

She turned to look at him then. Watched his face for a beat. As long as she could without feeling uncomfortable. It felt like there was somethingmoreto his words, if she was reading him correctly, which she probably wasn’t. “What do you mean?”

Silas pawed at the back of his neck, glanced down briefly. “I know that you’re . . . ” His voice trailed off.

The words her brain supplied to finish that sentence weren’t entirely kind. All things that’d been said to her over the years. Things her brain had put on repeat. An endless loop of people who’d hurt her, treated her as less than.

“Do you prefer autistic or a person with autism?” Silas asked, abruptly.

Cheyenne blinked, stunned a bit. No one had ever cared to ask her before. She paused long enough to consider. “Autistic please,” she whispered. “My autism isn’t separate from the rest of me.”

This meant he wouldn’t want her anymore, didn’t it? Now that he knew. If he hadn’t decided that already.

She turned away from him. “How did you know?” she asked, making her way to her kitchen. She reached into her cabinet, grabbing a mug shaped like a chubby little penguin wearing a Christmas scarf from the cabinet and holding it up to offer him coffee or tea. That’s what she was supposed to do when people came over.

Offer them a hot beverage. Or food.

Silas shook his head, frowning at the mug slightly. “Cayden told me.” He grimaced a little as he said the other wolf’s name. “But I had my suspicions before that.”

She set the penguin mug on the empty countertop. “I guess I’m not very good at masking.”

“Why should you be?” Silas sounded like he was . . . maybe offended? On her behalf. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Cheyenne.” He paused, the muscles in his throat moving. “You’re perfect.”

Cheyenne suddenly couldn’t breathe again. When she recovered, she breathed out a long sigh before she busied herself by reaching into the cabinet for a packet of hot cocoa mix. She hated the bitterness of coffee and tea was like drinking dirty leaf water. “That’s a kind thing to say, but you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend like it doesn’t bother you.” She shrugged. “Like it doesn’t change how you feel about me.”

“It doesn’t.” Silas didn’t hesitate. “That’s what I came to show you.”

Cheyenne clutched hold of the penguin mug, anchoring herself. “Please don’t lie to me. I . . . as you already said, I’m too trusting.”

“I’m not lying, Cheyenne. Promise.” He removed his Stetson from his head, glancing at her earnestly. “Please believe me. You did before.”

She turned on the burner, watching it so she could catch the water before it let out that awful screech. Her distorted reflection stared back at her from its chrome surface. “Even if that’s the case, I’m still leaving. For MAC-V-Alpha.”

“I’m hoping I can change your mind about that, and even if I can’t, we can make it work.” Silas’ hand touched her side now, making her jump slightly. He mumbled a gruff apology as he turned her and pulled her against him, nestling her against his hips, as he pressed her to him. He was solid there, on his stomach, his chest. All over. Hard and sturdy. And as he dropped his head down into her hair to bury his face in it, she felt the hardened length beneath the fly of his jeans press against her belly.

He wasn’t lying. He still wanted her.

“You mean . . . ?” Cheyenne couldn’t stop the hope that snuck into her voice.

“I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for, but . . . ” He lifted her chin, tilting her head up toward him. “Can you just put on your coat and come with me? Please. I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to, sweetheart.”

Cheyenne giggled. There was something extremely funny to her about the idea of seeing this enormous cowboy, her pack’s former enemy, get on his knees for anyone. Though she supposed he’d already done that for her the night before. Heat filled her cheeks again. “I don’t feel like horseback riding right now.” She’d seen his horse, reins tied up on her fence post, outside when he’d arrived. She loved horses, animals, but it also reminded her of therapy.

“Could you please make this easy on me?” He chuckled. “I’m begging you, Chey. Just get on the damn horse, woman.” He grumbled against her hair.

The kettle screeched. She jumped, started to cover her ears, but he snatched it off the stove so quickly, the sound disappeared in seconds. He switched the burner off.

She smiled up at him. He really was trying. “Okay.” She nodded. “Okay.”

He took her hand in his then, making her forget all about the cocoa as he led her toward the door. “You’ve trusted me from the start. All I’m asking you to do is keep trusting me.”

* * *

They rodeout together in the snow, Cheyenne nestled in front of him in the saddle seat. It was coming down softly now. Slow and easy. The chill of the night created fully formed crystals that got caught in her hair. She looked like a glittering vision in the moonlight, some kind of adorable little Christmas faerie. Lord knew she had the effortlessly cute features for it.

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