Holly Jolly Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #7)(38)

POLLY: Because you only have the one?

Well, that was fair. Wasn’t much point in having multiple party dresses when she didn’t really party. It was one she’d gotten at a thrift store years ago for Polly’s prom that she’d ended up not going to, and ever since, she’d pulled it out for holiday pictures and special occasions. The top part of the dress was tightly fitted and pure, bright red with a square neckline. It dropped to a natural waist and the skirts flared out and twirled around her knees. It felt very retro and glamorous, even if she didn’t have a stiff crinoline to wear underneath for fun. She’d paired it with black heels and decided to wear her hair in a Veronica Lake side sweep held back by a clip adorned with a small red Christmas bow.

She told herself she wasn’t dressing up to impress anyone, but the truth was, she wanted to make Adam sweat, just a little. Not that she wanted to date him. She just wanted to make him regret that whole I’m-not-interested-in-dating comment he’d thrown out.

As if she was asking him to date her. Whatever. He’d clearly not heard the part where she said he owed her a favor.

Holly took a few pictures of herself with Pumpkin in front of the tree and sent them to her sister. She gave the dog a kiss for being such a good girl, cuddled her for a moment, and then pulled off the hat and set her food bowl out. It was almost time for them to head out for the party and there was no sign of Adam.

If he stood her up, she was going to throw onions into his food for the next lifetime.

The back door opened and her nerves flared. Holly had no idea why she was nervous. She texted a quick goodbye to her sister and then trotted out in her black heels to meet Adam. “About time,” she called out as she turned the corner. “Here I thought we were going to be . . .”

She trailed off at the sight of him.

“. . . late.”

She’d forgotten to tell Adam the dress code. He was dressed in a tuxedo, a black bow tie done expertly at his neck and matching cummerbund. The jacket framed his shoulders perfectly and emphasized just how big he was. Lord have mercy, he really was big. As he took a step forward, she couldn’t stop staring at his shoulders and arms. He could be a linebacker, she decided, with that build. It probably came from tossing hay and slinging bags of feed but—

“Did I overdress?” he asked, rubbing his newly trimmed goatee. His brows were drawn together in a frown.

“It’s fine,” she told him, breathless. “I did, too. We’ll look like a matching pair.”

Adam’s mouth curled at the corners, and her heart fluttered at the sight of his smile. “You look . . . nice.”

Just like that, her heart plummeted. A grudging “nice” was all she warranted? “Stop, you’re killing me with praise,” she said dryly. “I’ll get a swelled head if this keeps up.”

He chuckled. “I meant that better than how it came out. You do look nice, but you always do.”

She waved a hand at him, dismissing his words. He’d already made it quite clear he wasn’t attracted, and that was fine. As long as they were on the same page, they could still enjoy the evening. If she thought he was smoking hot in a tuxedo, well, that was her problem.

On the bright side, she was showing up with a gorgeous date and heading to a party, so all in all, it was still going to be great.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





Adam was in a mess of trouble.

He should have known that going to this party with her was going to be a mistake. It was only guilt that made him agree . . . or so he told himself. He’d told himself that even as he’d trimmed his goatee and splashed on aftershave. He’d told himself that as he pulled his tux out of the garment bag. Guilt and a sense of obligation, he told himself as he stared in the mirror, trying to make his tie perfect.

When he saw Holly in that red dress, though, he knew he’d been lying to himself.

She was utterly, stunningly gorgeous. Holly was always pretty, of course, and he noticed her body even when he didn’t want to. Here he’d preached all about how he wasn’t looking for a relationship or to be with anyone. He wasn’t . . . but he hadn’t counted on Holly in that dress. Holly, who looked like she’d stepped out of an old-fashioned magazine . . . or his wet dreams. Her hair was loose and shiny, pulled back to reveal one small ear that practically begged to be nibbled on. The bodice of her dress fit her like a second skin, and when she moved, her skirts swished.

Every time they did, he pictured bending her over the couch, pushing those skirts up, and taking her.

Which was not something you pictured about your friends. Adam swallowed. Hard.

She gave him a playful smile as she headed toward the kitchen. “Are we taking your truck? Because I have a bunch of cookies I need to bring with me.”

He watched her skirt swish as she moved, and it only emphasized the curve of her hips and her legs in those heels. Had he ever seen her in heels? Normally he was pretty sure she wore sneakers. Maybe those shoes were why his cock was practically standing at attention and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Just . . . shoes.

Yeah, he sucked at lying to himself.

He headed into the kitchen after her, as always, astonished at the sheer amount of baking she’d gotten done. There were four large containers of cookies, and as he peered over her shoulder, she adjusted them to sit neatly in each box. One was full of gingerbread men, another full of cookies shaped into presents and brightly iced, another one full of stars, and the fourth one just looked like plain chocolate chip.