Page 17 of Her Jolly Cowboy
My throat closes.
He takes one step down the aisle. “I don’t want someone who fits because she’s from here. I want someone who fits because she’s you.”
Another step.
“I don’t care about your five-year plan or Denver or any of it. I care about the way you laugh when you let yourself, the way you fight for perfect even when the world’s falling apart, the way you say my name.”
Another step.
He’s close enough now that I can see the snow melting on his lashes. “I’m not asking you to stay forever,” he says. “I’m asking you to stay long enough to see if this is real, because it sure as hell feels real to me.”
I stare at him, tears spilling over before I can stop them. He closes the distance, cups my face in cold hands, thumbs brushing the tears away.
“Tell me to walk away, Holly. Say the word and I will.”
I open my mouth. The only thing that comes out is his name, broken and desperate.
He kisses me like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, and for the first time in my adult life, I stop planning and just let myself fall.
Chapter eight
Luke
I wake up to the soft weight of Holly draped across my chest, one of her legs thrown over mine, her breath warm against my neck. The room is still half-dark, but the first pale light of Christmas Eve is sneaking around the edges of the curtains, painting gold streaks across her bare shoulder.
She’s here. In my bed. In my arms. After last night in the barn, after she kissed me back like I was oxygen and she’d been drowning, she let me carry her home, strip her down, and love her slow and deep until we both fell asleep tangled together.
I’m never letting her go again.
She stirs, makes a sleepy little sound that goes straight to my dick, and burrows closer.
“Morning,” I rasp, voice gravel-rough from sleep and from whispering her name half the night.
She lifts her head, hair a wild cloud, eyes soft and unguarded. “Hi.”
I brush a thumb across her cheek. “Be my date tonight.”
She blinks, then laughs, the full, throw-her-head-back laugh that I’m addicted to. “Luke, I’m working the wedding. I’m literally being paid to be there.”
“Don’t care.” I roll us so she’s underneath me, settle between her thighs. “You’re still mine. I want everyone to know it.”
Her breath catches. “Yours, huh?”
“Damn right.” I kiss the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the spot just below her ear that makes her shiver. “Say yes, Boss Lady.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, arches up so every inch of her is pressed against me. “Yes.”
I kiss her for real then, promising her the rest of our lives in one sweep of my tongue. By the time I pull back, we’re both breathing hard and the sun is fully up.
“Gotta get moving,” I groan against her lips. “Rhett’ll kill me if I’m late.”
She nips my bottom lip. “Go be the best man. I’ve got a wedding to execute.”
I steal one more kiss, then force myself out of bed before I say fuck it and keep her there all day.
An hour later, I’m shaved, showered, and standing in the farmhouse living room in my black tux. Rhett is pacing in front of the fireplace, looking like he’s about to face a firing squad instead of marrying the love of his life.
I clap him on the shoulder. “You good, big brother?”
