Page 19 of Deck the Halls with Cowboys
Breathe for me, Valerie. Breathe for me because I’m breathing for you.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Uh, Val?”
“Just a minute, son,” Denver called out as I focused on the steady rhythm of his heart.
“Is she okay?”
God, that boy and his concern for me. He was just as protective as his father.
“Yeah, buddy. She’s okay. We just need a minute. Can you send Beau and Abbie into the living room for me?”
“Oh they’re already there. Abbie mentioned something about kidnapping NJ,” he said, chuckling.
A grunt came from my husband then. On the surface, he knew it was a joke, but deep down, I knew that he wouldn’t let anyone take our baby girl from us. Not even Abbie. As Caleb walked away, I wiped a tear at the corner of my eye.
Denver’s finger slid underneath my chin. “Give me my green, beautiful,” he whispered.
I tipped my head back. The look on his face made my chest want to cave in. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”
His lips twitched. “You have to stop apologizing for shit all the time. Been telling you that for years.”
“It’s because I am. Sorry, that is.”
“You don’t need to be sorry for being human. You don’t need to be sorry for loving me in ways I never imagined getting. You don’t need to be sorry for trying to make me happy.”
“Stop it,” I warned, my bottom lip trembling.
“From the moment I saw you snooping in the barn, I knew you were a force of nature,” he recalled, wiping another tear away before it could ruin my makeup. “All you do is love, baby. From sunrise to sunset, day after day. That love is what keeps me going, Valerie. You’re my lifeline. Even when you don’t realize it.”
“You’re going to make me cry.”
He ignored me.
“I came home, ready to put on a show for you in order to keep you happy. Now I know that wouldn’t have been right. I thought if I faked it, it would make you happy.”
I shook my head.
“All right, baby.” He pressed his lips to my forehead before stepping back. “What’s happening tonight? How can I help?”
My heart was about to leap out of my chest. “You don’t need to do anything,” I assured him.
“Is everyone else going to be working?”
“Well, yeah. Everyone has assignments.”
He stared at me. “Assignments?”
“It’s Christmas, Denver.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, mirroring what his son did in the living room an hour ago. “Uh-huh,” he drawled. “Well, okay. Has anyone been assigned the turkey or ham? I can get that going.”
I cleared my throat. “That’s already been assigned, honey.”
He blinked. "Uh, who got assigned the ham?"
“Uh, your brother.”
