Page 42 of Deck the Halls with Cowboys
He smirked. “Thanks. My wife made it.”
My lips stretched wide as I beamed at him. I made all the cowboys’ sweaters this year. When I wasn’t writing songs, I was sewing or knitting. It was a hobby I’d discovered while on the road with the PBR last summer. One of the other bull rider’s wives who was making her son a sweater was kind enough to modify the design for an adult sweater for me. It took forever and required a mountain of patience, but I loved it. When we were home, I was usually recording the songs I wrote while on the road before releasing them through a small indie label in Denver. I didn’t make much money from it, but it brought me peace.
“It looks good on you,” I replied. “Your wife must be really talented.”
He chuckled. “She’s not really humble about her sewing skills.”
I clicked my tongue, shaking my head in disappointment. “Damn. What a fault to have.”
“Her only one,” he whispered before kissing me. When he pulled back, he told me he loved me, and then he was gone. Once our door closed softly, I heard, “Don’t fuck up my ham!”
A bubble of laughter escaped me as Mason replied to Mags. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed with your fiancée?”
“I’m two seconds away from throwing a Christmas tree at you.”
“If it’s the tree I busted my ass to put up last night, you will not be throwing it anywhere,” Beau’s voice boomed. I moved out of the bathroom, leaning against the bedroom door, my shoulders shaking with laughter.
On the other side, a door opened and closed. “All right, I’m throwing the tree at Mason and then shoving it up your lying ass, BeauMarks,” Mags declared.
“Who lied?”
“You didn’t put shit up yesterday,” Mags clipped. “I had to fix it for you.”
“Okay, but I was in there for a really long time—”
“You two bicker like an old married couple,” my husband drawled, and I could practically see him leaning against the wall with that cocky smirk plastered on his face.
“We don’t bicker,” Beau argued.
“Yes, you do!” Abbie and Diana both yelled.
I rested my head against the door, laughing and looking up at the ceiling. Today was going to be a perfect day. I just hoped Valerie knew it.
Chapter Twelve
Valerie
“Good morning,” I cooed as I pushed open the door to NJ’s room. She was standing in her crib, hanging on to the railing as she jumped up and down, cackling. She was the happiest toddler I knew. She beamed at me, showing her four teeth, cheeks chubby and pink. “Merry Christmas, baby girl!”
“Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!” she chanted as I padded over to her window, pulling back her pink curtains and opening the shades. The early morning sunlight streamed in, drenching her room in a warm glow. My eyes scanned over the land. The storm had passed around three in the morning, leaving a gorgeous frozen wonderland in its wake. The snow covered every inch of our home, the sunlight dancing upon the packed snowflakes as it rose higher with each passing moment. My eyes dropped down, focusing on the red barn and matching bunkhouse beside it. There was about a foot of snow on the ground,but it was nothing the cowboys couldn’t handle. Denver had woken up just before dawn, ready to clear a path, but I’d managed to convince him to stay.
My lips tipped up at the thought, remembering how his hands were all over me, his lips against my ear as our bodies moved in time together.
“Mama! Mama!”
Blinking, I snapped out of it and turned to face our little girl. “Are you ready to open presents?” I asked, my voice high. “Is my little sugar plum ready to see what Santa got her?”
“Val, you’re doing it again.”
My neck twisted as I jumped, gasping. Caleb was in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a tan sweater. “Caleb! Don’t scare me like that!”
He smiled. “Probably didn’t hear me over that baby voice you were doing,” he accused.
My eyes narrowed. “First of all, I wasn’t doing a baby voice. Second of all—” I paused. “Is that the sweater Harmony made you?”
He looked down at it and nodded. “Yeah. Fits good. She thought it would be too small by the time Christmas rolled around.”
“Well, in her defense, you eat like a horse and grow like a weed,” I said, lifting NJ out of her crib. His gray eyes landed on his sister then, and it didn’t take much convincing on her end before he stepped into her room and stole her from me.
