Page 24 of Deck the Halls with Cowboys
I hummed. “Not a washer kind of man, are you?”
He gave me a gift then. A glorious, breathtaking smile. “There’s more room on the dryer, Abbie.”
I looked to my side. “Oh. So there is,” I muttered as his thumbs swept back and forth across my cheeks. “So why are we in here? Why are you acting so weird?”
“You haven’t figured it out yet?” he asked softly, the blue flame of his eyes growing brighter with every word.
He looked like a little kid on Christmas, ironically.
I paused, studying him. For the last few months, he’d been trying to get me into the studio, but since we were back together, moving forward and healing, I had no need to paint. I was happy. When I was in the city, I sought out painting because it gave me joy. Being back with Beau filled that void, and my need to pick up the brush had dimmed significantly. When I wasn’t chasing stories or spending time with the family, I wanted to be with Beau, in our little cabin,drowning in our happiness.
Was it cheesy?
Absolutely.
A year ago, during this time, I was chasing one of the biggest stories of the year, barely eating anything and avoiding my friends as I always did during the holidays. When I was at Hallow Ranch, Christmas meant something, but when I’d been out in the real world, it was just another day.
It hit me then.
Like a train going at full speed, it hit me.
My lips parted and I put my hands on his chest.
He hummed, seeing the realization dawning on my face. “She’s finally caught up with me,” he murmured.
There was no stopping the tears now. “It’s our first Christmas together since—” I shut up, feeling the first tear fall onto my cheek, hot and groundbreaking.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
We stood together in silence, lost in each other’s gazes, locked in this glorious laundry room, inside a house full of our family, thousands of memories in the air around us. My question came out on a broken rasp. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“You were finishing up that deadline, and I had to get to the barn. Didn’t want to bother you.”
I looked at his green flannel, twisting one of the buttons between my fingers. “You can always bother me. I went years without you, Beau. Please—”
My words were promptly cut off as his mouth landed on mine with a low growl. He gave me a quick but dizzying kiss before leaning his forehead against mine. “I know we talked about waiting, about getting our shit together before we made any big decisions, but dammit gorgeous, I need you to have my ring on your finger.”
“Is this you proposing to me again? In a laundry room?” I asked, eyes wide.
He raised a brow. “Thesame laundry room where you and I hid from the football team after one of Denver’s teammates dared you to play seven minutes in heaven with him?”
I scoffed. “For the record, cowboy, I said no, and you still yanked me in here.”
“Because I was the only boy you’d be playing seven minutes in heaven with,” he declared.
My hands snaked up to hook around the back of his neck as I pressed my body against his. “We could do that now, if you’d like.”
He shook his head as he dropped it, resting it against my chest. “I tell the woman I want to put my ring on her finger again, and she just wants my dick.”
“What part of seven minutes in heaven involves your dick, Beau Marks?” I laughed.
His head shot up, his lips finding the shell of my ear. “We play any kind of minute in heaven, everyone in this house will know how much you love being my little fuck toy.”
My clit pulsed.
Jesus, this man.
“I—that’s not—I was talking about the kids’ game,” I stammered, feeling his hand slide down my side, over my hip, stopping at my ass.
