Truman fussed and fumed but he kept feeding the lights up the ladder to Blake, who then sent them on up to Judd, who snapped them into place around the porch roof. “Craziest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” Truman grumbled. “Put up lights on the sixth day of December and take them down on January second. All this work and energy for less than a month and just think of the electricity they use. Why, I could buy two new goats or a nice bull calf for the price of what the utility bill will cost.”
“Come on, Truman, all that complainin’ ain’t foolin’ us one bit. You really like Christmas but you just like to bitch about it.” Toby finished the last string of lights around the porch railing.
“I like Thanksgiving. Make a turkey and dressin’, watch a parade on the television, and then it’s over. This blame holiday lasts a month and costs a fortune. And women are the ones who do the bitchin’. Men just state the way things are,” he protested.
“Well, you are really going to hate what I’m about to tell you, then,” Jud said. “We’ve decided to have a Christmas ranch party and you’re going to be Santa Claus and give out presents to all the kids. You reckon Katy would mind if we borrowed her pillows to make you a little fatter?”
Truman shook a bony, veined finger at Jud. “What kind of funny weed have you been smokin’, boy? I ain’t doin’ no such thing! I wouldn’t even be out here now, but Dora June said if I didn’t help y’all she was going to burn the ham for breakfast tomorrow mornin’. But I will not be Santa Claus, skinny or fat.”
Blake handed the last light up to Jud and crawled off the ladder. “Then we’ll go to plan B. Herman said he’d be glad to wear the red suit if you wear your normal stubborn jackass self.”
Jud came down the ladder and carried it around to the side of the house. “He even said he’d ask the preacher to borrow the suit from the church.”
“Where are you going to have this thing? Your biggest barn is full of hay,” Truman said.
“Katy said we could have it here at the house since the weather is supposed to be cold all month,” Blake answered. “Dora June has promised to help cook for it, but we understand if you choose to stay in your bedroom and not even come out. Herman don’t like you so much anyway, and you can be sure he and Lucy will be here.”
Truman shoved his hands into his pockets. “How long would I have to stay in that monkey suit?”
Toby hiked a hip on the porch railing. “Depends on how many kids show up. We’re making it an open house, so folks can show up anytime during the evening and stay as long as they like. Children normally are in bed by about nine, so we figured that Santa Claus would show up about seven, give out some presents. Probably thirty minutes at the most.”
“But don’t worry about it,” Blake said. “The preacher said that Herman could use the suit.”
Truman crossed his arms over his thin chest and glared at Blake. “I give that church more money than Herman does, so if I want to wear that suit, I’ll damn sure wear it. Herman ain’t got no more right to it than I do. Let’s get in out of this cold. Ain’t showin’ that we got a lick of sense standin’ out here when there’s a blaze goin’ in the fireplace and our job is done out here.”
“You going to come down the chimney at the party?” Blake opened the door for Truman.
“Hell, no! I’m goin’ to get ready in one of them empty bedrooms upstairs and come down the steps. I might even slide down the banister just to show Herman that I ain’t old as dirt like he is,” Truman said. “Is Dora June going to be Mrs. Claus?”
“She said she’d be glad to dress up and serve cookies and punch to the guests.” Jud followed him into the house.
“I’ll show Herman that he can’t run things. I’ll even help her.” Truman’s bony chin shot up three notches. “That is, after I hand out the presents. And a ranch party ain’t a sissy party. You need a corner to set up for drinks. Ranchers like beer and whiskey.”
“You going to be the bartender, too?”
“I am not. I might cuss and take a nip when I’m sickly, but I ain’t goin’ to be fixin’ nobody drinks. One of y’all can do that. It’s your party, not mine. I’m just Santa damn Claus.”
Dora June and the three Logan sisters were at the table with notebooks spread out when Jud reached the dining room. Audrey had begun to fuss about being left alone in her swing too long, so he took her out and carried her to the nearest rocking chair.
Blake stood behind Allie’s chair and kissed her on the top of her light brown hair. She looked up at him adoringly with the darkest brown eyes Jud had ever seen. That’s what he wanted to see in a woman’s eyes when she looked at him. Pure adoration and love with nothing held back.
Toby pulled up a chair close to Lizzy’s and looked at the figures she was writing down. He frowned but she patted him on the shoulder.
“Do you really think we need that much liquor?” Toby’s eyebrows shot up.
“It’s a ranch party, not a church social. Ranchers expect something more than watered-down punch. If the Lucky Penny is going to get its name in the pot with the big ranchers in this area, you’d best give the folks who come to this party good booze,” Lizzy answered.
“And good food,” Allie said. “We’ll make the desserts, the Christmas cookies, and the candies, but we’re getting barbecue from a really good caterer in Throckmorton. We’ll set up a table with punch and cookies in the foyer. If we move the furniture out of the living room, we can set up small tables for four.”
“Y’all really got busy with this,” Jud said.
“We did our part.” Fiona winked.
“So did you call Herman?” Dora June asked.
“He did not!” Truman said loudly. “That rotten old fool would scare the kids with his big booming voice. I’ll be Santa Claus, and then after I give the presents to whatever kids are here, I’ll help you with the punch table, Dora June.”
Dora June’s eyes came close to popping out of her head and rolling across the floor. “Well, Truman O’Dell, I think you’ll make a much better Santa Claus than Herman, and Lucy is going to be so jealous of me.”
“Good. That meddlin’ woman needs to be jealous of you. I’m going to take a nice warm bath and go to bed. All this decoratin’ crap done wore me out,” Truman said gruffly, and headed toward his bedroom.
Fiona took a quick shower, checked the hall, and then trotted to her bedroom with nothing but a towel around her body. She dried off, then slid on a pair of cotton bikini underpants and an oversize red plaid flannel shirt that hung to her knees. She was brushing the tangles from her wet hair when a gentle knock on the door drew her attention from the vanity mirror.
“Come on in,” she said.
“You sure?” The door swung open and Jud stood there like a blond Greek god in a pair of red flannel pajama pants and a white tank top that hugged his body like a glove.
“Of course. We’re over twenty-one and I expect we can be trusted since the door is open.” She smiled. “You can have the recliner. Soon as I got my hair brushed out I was going to come over to your room. I’m dying to know how you got Truman to be Santa Claus.”
When he sat down in the recliner, the overhead light lit up the water droplets still hanging like diamonds on his hair. The stubble on his face was downright sexy.
“It was kind of funny.” His smile lit the room up far more than any artificial light could do, and then he went on to tell her word for word what he could remember of the conversation.
When he finished, tears were rolling down her cheeks. “My sides hurt and I can’t breathe. That is priceless,” she said. “He and Herman Hudson have never gotten along. I bet it’s because Herman and Lucy have all those kids. You did a bang-up job by baiting him with Herman.”
He stood and held out a hand. “Well, thank you, Miz Fiona. Now give me that brush and I’ll work on the back of your hair.”
She put the brush in it and he gently ran it through her hair. When it hit a snag, he laid the brush aside and worked the tangle out, one hair at a time. When there were no more rats, he dug his fingers all the way to her scalp and massaged. She thought that his foot rubs were a turn-on but her body turned into a quivering mass of jelly when he worked on her scalp.
“Sweet Lord! If all the Dawsons are as good as you, no wonder my sisters fell head-over-heels crazy in love.” She shut her eyes and enjoyed every hot little quiver that shot through her body.
Jud bent forward, swept her hair to one side, and planted a kiss on her neck that sent her hormones into a spiral. Slow be damned. She wanted him.
Pretty, brilliant sparks danced around the trailer and Lizzy’s knees went weak. She leaned into him and the second kiss was even more sensational. Hormones whined. Her heart thumped so hard that her chest hurt. Her hands were clammy and his hands on her back were like fire. She wanted him and nothing was going to fill the aching void but Toby.
Jud caught her gaze in the mirror, his brown eyes boring into hers with questions. “I should leave now before we go from low gear to high and have regrets later,” he whispered huskily.
His tone said that he was every bit as affected as she was. His eyes said he wanted more like she did. His hand on her shoulder was warm even through her knit shirt. The world stood still in that moment. The moon didn’t rise. The stars held their breath.
She put a hand over his. “Shut the door and stay.”
“I thought we were going to go slow,” he whispered.
“The second time, we will. It’s been a very long time for me, so if I get in a hurry the first time, I promise I’ll slow it down to low gear the second time around,” she said.
“But, Fiona, you are…”
“This is tonight, Jud. Not tomorrow. Not next week or next spring. Just tonight between two consenting, very hungry adults. No questions. No promises. And I don’t think Dora June can hear the squeaky springs all the way in her bedroom.”
She flipped around and tugged his shirt up over his head, tiptoeing to kiss his Adam’s apple before digging her fingertips into his thick hair and pulling his face toward hers. His lips were pure honey to her starving heart. She pressed her whole body against his, feeling the effect below the elastic waist of his pajama pants. She pulled away from him, their lips making a sucking noise when the kiss broke.
Running her hands through the soft brown hair on his chest, she felt his big hands fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. Finally, he got them all unfastened and tossed it to the side. He held her breasts, one in each hand, staring at them as if they were gold.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
“And you are so sexy it takes my breath away,” she whispered as she tugged his pants down over his firm hips.
“Oh, my!” she gasped.
“And so ready.” He pulled her pants down and then slowly bit at the side of her bikini underpants. Taking them down an inch at a time, his hand barely brushing her skin, teasing, tempting all the way down was far hotter than massaging her feet or her scalp. Her insides vibrated with desire.
When her underwear was on the floor, he feathered kisses so light that her skin ached for more all the way from toes to knees to the outside of her thighs and up to her breasts. He stopped to run his tongue over each one and then quickly moved on up to her lips, where he brought the game home with a kiss so passionate and filled with promise that she leaned into him, pressing her naked body to his. With a hop, her legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist, her body pressing against his erection. With a few deft movements, she could have all of him inside her, but she waited to see what was next.
He carried her toward the bed, shut the door with the heel of his bare foot, and laid her head on the pillow. He hovered over her, his eyes never leaving hers for several seconds and then their lips met again. The excitement of their tongues touching, the feel of his body heat so close that she could actually see the flames in her imagination, the tightness of the erection; it was more than she’d ever experienced and she wanted it all. Tomorrow didn’t matter. Tonight she wanted to be satisfied and the only person who could do that was Jud Dawson.
“You make me so damned hot that I can feel the blaze and still I’m willing to walk right into the fire to have you.” He ran the tips of his fingers down her rib cage, passed the curve of her waist, crossed over, and back up the other side.
“I like the way your eyes go all dreamy when you touch me,” she said.
“So do yours. They remind me of the green water of the ocean down in Florida. They’re inviting me to dive right in.” Tucking his fist under her chin, his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth covered hers, his tongue touching her lips, asking permission before he entered.
“Yes, they are. The water is so warm that it’s about to boil,” she gasped when the kiss ended. She traced his lips with her fingers, letting them roam from there down his chest to his erection. Then suddenly she pushed him backward and flipped over on top of him. In an instant, ready or not, he was inside her and she’d taken over the whole game. They rocked together until she was panting. He pulled her closer to him and with a fast roll he was on top and the tempo increased until there was an explosion like she’d never felt before. The glazed look in his eyes said that he was every bit as satisfied as she was.
“Oh my God, Fiona.” One word at a time came out because that’s all the air he could muster up from his lungs.
“I know.” She cuddled next to him, her ear pressed to his thumping heart and her legs still quaking. Nothing at any time had prepared her for what she’d just experienced. Not her ex-husband, not the boys in college—no one, ever!
She’d said no regrets and that tomorrow didn’t matter. If she stood by her word, then all she’d have would be the memories of that night. But dear Lord, what memories they were.
He pulled her even closer. “I should go.”
“Not yet. Stay a little while longer.”
They fell asleep in each other’s arms, totally exhausted and absolutely satisfied.