Merry Cowboy Christmas (Lucky Penny Ranch #3)(63)

“Another reason I don’t like north-central Texas,” she yelled above the howling wind.

“Get in the car and I’ll finish this. You don’t even have gloves. Your fingers will freeze. We have got to get those other tires on this car,” he shouted.

She didn’t argue, which was a miracle. He’d expected a dirty look that would melt the ice and scare away the gray skies but she nodded and got into the car. He could see her blowing on her hands to warm them and mentally kicked himself for not taking care of this sooner.

Boyfriend?

The word popped back into his mind.

Friends?

He argued with the voice in his head.

With benefits?

He shook his head. He couldn’t do that because Fiona deserved so much more.

What if she finds someone like a fancy lawyer?

A wave of hot jealousy covered him. With every jab of the scraper against the layer of ice, he gave himself another lecture on how he had no right to be jealous because she’d been up front and honest about her future. And that did not have a rough old cowboy in the picture.

He finally finished the job, waved at her, and trotted back to his truck. He waited for Fiona to back the car out and start moving slowly toward home before he followed at a safe distance behind her.

Déjà vu!

He held his breath when she went into a long, greasy slippery ride toward the ditch at one point, but she got control and made her way around the next turn into the lane to home. She applied too much brake when she reached the yard, but it was far enough back that when the wheels came to a stop, she was still two feet away from the white picket yard fence.

“That was close,” she yelled as she crawled out of the car and started to run toward the porch.

He slammed the truck door and was only a few steps behind her when she slipped on the slick sidewalk and went down, arms flailing as she tried to latch on to anything to break her fall. Before she hit the ground, he reached forward to scoop her up in his arms like a bride, but leather-soled boots and ice do not make for a perfect situation. He managed to pick her up but then he went down in a sideways roll where he landed on his back with her on top of him.

His cowboy hat sailed through the air, landing on a fence post and twirling several times before it stopped to hang there, waiting for him to reclaim it. He became the sled and she was the rider as they slid across the ice-covered yard toward the post where the hat had come to rest. They came to an abrupt stop when she threw out her hands and grabbed the trunk of an old pecan tree in the front yard. With the speed they were picking up in another five seconds, his head would have brought them to rest on a fence post.

“I think you might have saved me from a fractured skull,” he said breathlessly.

“You probably saved me from a broken arm or neck,” she panted as she rolled to one side.

“Are we going to attempt standing up or just lie here and turn into Popsicles?”

“I was thinking icicles,” she huffed. “But if you want to get up real slow like and brace your back against that tree trunk, I might let you help me to my feet.”

He chuckled as he eased up, one tiny bit at a time.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“That was one wild ride, but it wasn’t as wild as last night,” he answered.

“Honey, if it had been as hot as last night, we would have melted this ice and stopped a lot sooner. Look, it’s snowing again.” She brushed a flake from his hair.

He grabbed her hand and held it against his face. “I can’t believe you are so calm about us not using birth control. I was freaking out.”

“So was I at first, but what’s done is done and can’t be undone. I did stock up on condoms while I was cleaning the bathrooms at the store this afternoon, though.” She grinned.

“So does that mean…”

“What in the world is going on out here?” Dora June called from the open door. “Lord, I’m glad we don’t have close neighbors or the gossip would run rampant by morning. Get on in out of the cold. Supper’s ready.”

“What the hell?” Truman yelled over her shoulder. “Good God almighty. Kids these days! Shut the door, Dora June, before you let all the warm air out.”

Jud rolled to one side and sat up. “You think they’re going to ground us?”

Fiona used the tree to pull herself to her feet. “I hope they let us eat supper before they send us to our rooms, but I don’t mind being grounded for a week or even more.”

“How many condoms did you buy?”

“Plenty enough for even you, cowboy.”

It was a bad idea. No, it was a damn horrible idea to continue on this path they’d started, but he could no more stop it than he could a mad Angus bull coming at him at full speed. He’d suffer the consequences later, but right now, he wanted nothing more than to be grounded to his room for the next week.

“I expect we’d better get started early, right?” he asked.

She pointed toward the porch where her hobo bag had come to a stop when it stopped sliding.

“Thank goodness nothing flew out,” he teased. “It would put a whole new meaning to ‘a cold one.’”

She giggled. “Let’s get inside before we freeze to death and Truman has to dig two graves.”

“I bet he’d bitch us back alive,” Jud laughed as he slung an arm around Fiona’s shoulders, grabbed his hat, and then slowly walked with her to the porch where she retrieved her purse.