Page 11 of Deck the Halls with Cowboys
“Is that Jigs?” Diana asked.
“Yeah.”
“Can you put him on?”
“Baby, I gotta—”
“I need to ask him about the velvet ribbon,” she rushed out.
Velvet ribbon?
What in the—
“Jigs, Diana needs to talk to you.” I sighed, holding the phone out to him.
The old man trotted over to me, adjusting his hat. “This about the ribbon?”
“Apparently so.”
Jigs took the phone from me, putting against it his weathered ear. “Heya, darlin’. Did you find it?”
I folded my arms over my chest, leaned against the wall, and watched him pace back and forth as they discussed Christmas tree decor. When Jigs finally stopped pacing and looked at me, I raised a brow. “Isn’t there already a tree in the main house?”
“This is for the dining room.”
I pulled off my hat and looked to the ceiling.Yeah, I should’ve never left my fuckin’ bed. I should’ve rolled over, spread Diana’s legs, and ate her cunt until she was panting my name like a fuckin’ prayer.
“Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll tell him,” Jigs said with a smile before hanging up the phone and handing it to me. “She said she loves you.”
My chest tightened, the weight of her words hitting me in the best of ways.
I would never get tired of her saying those words. Each time was a gift I’d never thought I’d get.
“I’ll see you in a bit, old man,” I muttered, putting my hat back on.
As I headed to the stairs, he called out to my back, “The pain is nearly gone, you know.”
I paused and looked over my shoulder. “I know.”
“He just needs a little push, is all.”
“Not sure I’m the person who should be doing the pushing.”
Jigs gave me a flat smile. “He listens to you.”
Right now, I wasn’t too sure of that.
Denver was still at his desk, jotting down numbers on his notepad whenI got to the top of the stairs.
“You know the work can wait,” I said, going to one of the chairs in front of his desk. As I sat, my body silently cried out in a familiar agony. The phantom pains, after two months of having none, had suddenly returned, and I couldn’t help but think it had to do with my anxiety over Diana and the baby.
“That’s interesting to hear coming from you,” he replied, not bothering to look up.
“Wanted to talk to you.”
“About wanting to kill my ranch hands or about why everyone is walking on eggshells around me?”
“I didn’t know Diana was the one who threw the Christmas parties.”
