Page 8 of Cowboy's Christmas Girlfriend

“Walked off? I don’t think so. Not by itself.” Will whistled loudly, a sharp, piercing blast. “Lucky, get in here!”

Suzanna broke out giggling as the big dog slunk in. He still had her Ugg, or at least what was left of it—but she couldn’t bring himself to be angry when he looked so woebegone. He dropped the soggy lump at her feet and hung his head low, so low his loose, sloppy jowls brushed the rug.

“Aw, he’s so sad.” Suzanna dropped down next to him and took his head in her hands, scratching behind his ears till his tail thumped the floor. Will cleared his throat.

“I’ll get you a new pair,” he said. “But those wouldn’t have worked for the snowball fight, anyway. And for that matter, is that really what you’re wearing?”

Suzanna glanced down at herself, her silver puffer jacket and her sparkly red knit gloves. “No good?”

Will cocked his head. She didn’t look bad—in fact, she looked damn cute. Like she’d just stepped off a Hallmark card, the kind with apple-cheeked carolers in snowy front yards.

“You look festive,” he said. “But, pardon my bluntness, you’re going to freeze your tush off.” He picked up her ruined Ugg and held it aloft. “See how that’s soaked through, just from Lucky’s spit? Imagine how much more damage a foot of snow could do. You’re going to need real boots, and thick socks, a down jacket.”

Suzanna’s face fell. “I don’t have any of that.”

“Don’t worry. We do. Let’s hit up Mom’s cabin, and we’ll raid her closet. Or, come to think of it...” He glanced at the ruined Ugg. “For shoe size, I’d say you’re closer to Chickadee. Her room’s right down the hall, so you’re in luck.”

Suzanna blinked. “So, your sister lives with you? And your mom...where’s her cabin?”

Will tried not to flinch. Suzanna’s question was innocent, but she’d struck a nerve all the same. Still, he could think of no reason not to give her an honest answer. “My family moved out when I got married, to give us some space. But then after Hannah...after she passed, Sarah moved back in to help with the girls.”

“Oh, I see…” Suzanna’s eyes had gone wide, soft with compassion. She opened her mouth—no doubt to say something kind and sympathetic—but Will spoke up before she could, steering back for safer ground.

“So anyway, let’s go raid my sister’s closet. She’ll have what you need—something tough to get you through the battle ahead.”

To her credit, Suzanna followed his lead. “Battle? I thought it was just a friendly snowball fight. It doesn’t even count toward the competition, right?”

Will smirked. “Yes, it’s a snowball fight, and no, it doesn’t count. But if you think it’s low-key or friendly, you’re in for a shock.” He took her by the arm. “You don’t understand yet, but trust me, you will. Snowball night’s epic. It’s like going to war. My family’s…well, you’ll see.”

“Pretty competitive?”

Will barked laughter. “Competitive, cutthroat, you take your pick. You think you’ve seen snowball fights, but you haven’t, not like this. Think Full Metal Snowball. Snowpocalypse Now.” He whirled to fix her with a thousand-yard stare. “You’ll go into those snow forts a sweet little Bambi. You’ll come out the Deer Hunter: pew-pew-pew.”

“I don’t believe you. Your family’s so...the opposite of everything you just said.” Suzanna paused at the top of the stairs, listening to the laughter rising up from below. “I went down to say hi while you were gone. Everybody was—”

“Let me guess, nosy? Meddlesome?”

“Curious. And kind.” A cloud crossed her features. “They love you, you know? They want to make sure I’m right for you, that I won’t break your heart.”

Will frowned. He’d thought the inquisition would die down once he brought home a woman—his family would back off the matchmaking and just let him be. Instead, they’d just shifted from matchmaking to meddling—and even bumped it up a notch, turning their attention to Suzanna. What had she told them? Had she stuck to the plan?

“I was thinking,” she said. She was chewing her lip. “One of your aunts mentioned we looked nervous together. Like we were on a first date.”

Will made a choking sound. “I guess we kind of were.”

“So, maybe we should fix that.”

“Fix it how?”

Suzanna turned to face him, chin tilted up. She took a small step toward him, her eyes resolute.

“I think we should kiss,” she said.

“What?”

“We should kiss.” She smiled, and it did something to Will’s insides: first his heart stopped, and then it was racing. His neck felt too hot, his collar too tight.

“Kiss,” he repeated, his voice scarcely sounding like his own. “And why would we do that?”

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