Rancher’s Christmas Storm by Maisey Yates

Nine

“Itold you,” Jericho said when Honey’s eyes finally fluttered open. “If you still had something to say then I wasn’t worthy of my arrogance.”

She gazed at him out of her narrowed eyes. “That is really the first thing on your mind?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m always on hand for the ‘I told you so.’”

“That is deeply, deeply petty.”

“I never said I wasn’t.” And all right, it wasn’t the most romantic thing. But they weren’t romantic.

Except... She had been amazing, and he was getting impatient watching her sleep. It was the middle of the day, after all.

And you want her again.

Not that he could afford to. Not that either of them could afford this.

But hey, they were stuck here until the weather cleared, which it still hadn’t done. And as long as they could make the most of it, why shouldn’t they? As long as they were here...

“Well, fine. You have earned your arrogance.”

“Happy to hear it.”

Her stomach growled. Audibly. “I’m hungry.”

He was too. But not particularly for food.

“You can have some food. After you have a bath.”

“Hey,” she said, as he picked her up out of the bed. “I can walk, you know. You seem to have forgotten that.”

“I didn’t forget. I just like carrying you.”

It was true.

He liked the feeling of the soft weight in his arms. He liked feeling her in general.

“I’ll get you your bird book if you want.”

“I don’t want the bird book.”

He chuckled. “How about I take a bath with you?”

A flush covered her skin, and he was ridiculously pleased by it. That she was affected by them. By this.

You’ve lost your mind.

Maybe. But it didn’t seem so crazy that what he wanted was to stay here, not face what was out there. Not deal with the fact that he had a long-lost family he was supposed to be spending Christmas with. Yeah, spending time with Honey was a hell of a lot nicer.

He had run the bath already, because he hadn’t been totally sure that they would have enough hot water, and it had been pretty close. He’d warmed a couple pots up on the stove and added them to the deep claw-foot tub in the bathroom.

He deposited her in the warm water and watched the way the firelight sparkled over her damp skin. She was so damned pretty. So perfect. It made him feel... Well, it made him feel a damn sight too much. “Good,” he said. But she didn’t move at all, and he laughed as he got into the tub and lifted her, setting her back down so that she was on his lap.

She sighed, letting her head fall back against his chest. Then she tilted her head. Looking at him as best she could. “This is very strange.”

“How so?” But it made his chest tight.

“Well, just a few hours ago we were fully clothed and sitting across the room from each other talking about birds...”

“I never really talked about birds. It was mostly you talking about birds.”

“Whatever,” she said. “It’s just that... It’s very strange to now be sitting with you like this. Without clothes.”

And perhaps the strangest part of all was it didn’t feel strange. Because they were still them. She was still talking about birds.

“Right.”

He lifted his hand from the water, let the droplets fall over her skin. Her breasts.

He was transfixed by the sight of her. By her beauty. And he hadn’t gotten to where he was marinating in the strangeness of it, because he wanted her for as long as he had and now he finally had her.

She was as beautiful as he’d imagined that she might be. And that was... Well, his imagination had been pretty thorough, but it still hadn’t quite managed to get the particulars. Every dip and hollow and facet of beauty that was unique to Honey.

It was strange. The rightness of it.

“Yeah. I guess,” he said, even though he didn’t feel the same disquiet he imagined she did. Perhaps it was experience.

Except he knew it wasn’t that. Maybe it was just the way they were cocooned in this moment. The entire thing had been a little bit surreal. Maybe he had just sunk into it. Maybe he’d been sinking into it for the last month, finding out the Daltons didn’t know about him—or at least Hank hadn’t. That he actually wanted to get to know him.

“It’s only a few days before Christmas,” he said.

What was supposed to have been his first Christmas with his father.

A father. What does that even mean when you find out when you are thirty-four years old?

What did it mean at all? He hadn’t been there for anything. He hadn’t been there to help Jericho when everything had fallen apart.

Whether or not it was his choice didn’t really matter, because the end result was the same.

And joining the family now... It was kind of the ninth inning. He didn’t need their support. Not anymore.

He figured out how to get along. He figured it out on his own. That he felt compelled to go... Well, maybe it was a good thing that he hit a snowstorm.

After all, he was here, naked with Honey, rather than dealing with the awkwardness of the family situation.

“We need a Christmas tree,” she whispered.

“A Christmas tree?” There was weight that came with that, baggage and pain that he didn’t want to think about now.

But Honey wanted a Christmas tree, and he found that he wanted to please her. It was such a strange sensation. One lost way back in time.

“Yes, Jericho,” she said, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “So that we can have a Merry Christmas.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he said.

She laughed. “I think you did.”

“Well, I’m not the kind of man who would say that a couple of orgasms for me were a gift.”

That made her howl, slapping the surface of the water. “Since when?”

“All right, I am.” Something sincere rose up inside of him, and he didn’t quite know what to do with it. It was just that... For her that didn’t seem like enough. He wanted there to be more. He wanted to give her something, and the impulse felt strange and foreign. The impulse felt undeniable.

It was the strangest damn thing.

“All right, how about a Christmas tree then? And maybe I can find a really pretty rock to wrap up for you.”

“And what will you wrap it in?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

He smiled back, but it was wicked. “Maybe some of those lace panties that you brought.”

She snickered, readjusting herself, her bottom moving over his growing arousal. He really needed to give her a break. She had been a virgin. And it was very likely that she could be sore.

If you had gotten her a nice enough gift, you might not have felt so guilty about her being sore.

Well, damn. That didn’t say great things about them, but it was true. Because he wanted her again, soreness or not.

“All right,” he said. “I’d rather see you in the panties. Though, I’d also rather see you out of them.”

“That is something I don’t really understand about lingerie,” she said. “Are you supposed to dress up in another room and make a grand entrance? And then you just put it on so it gets taken off thirty seconds later.”

“You could put it on in front of me right now, take it off fifteen seconds later, and I would still think the whole thing was worth it, because it was just all staring at you.”

Her cheeks went red. “Really?”

“Yes. Because you’re so damn hot I can hardly deal with myself.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just...” She looked up at him with wide, sincere eyes that damn near broke his heart. “You really do think I’m hot?”

That question, so artless, sat like a weight in his chest, along with Christmas trees. “I really do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it.”

“How long?”

“Why do you need to know how long?”

She turned over, a slippery mermaid in his arms, then rested her forearms against his chest and looked up at him. “I need to know because I have had the biggest crush on you for most of my life, all the while wanting to hit you over the head with the nearest blunt object. You are both my favorite and least favorite person to be around, often during the same conversation. And I have felt like a fool for feeling that way this whole time.”

That admission stole his breath. He was older, and he might not have felt that way about her back when she did, but it wasn’t because she wasn’t...wonderful. It was because of their age gap. “Why did you feel that way? Like you were foolish for wanting me?”

“Because I just never thought that I was all that interesting or pretty or anything of the kind. I always felt a little bit on the outside in school. And I tried not to, but... I did. Beatrix Leighton gave me a mouse once. When we were in kindergarten. I kept him as a pet for three years. I thought that was one of the nicest things anyone ever did for me. I think she was about the closest I ever got to feeling like somebody might understand me. But she was usually nursing animals back to health and not doing anything social. But I just always felt like I didn’t really fit. And...”

“I think everybody feels that way sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

He smiled. “There aren’t a whole lot of people who look like me around here.”

“No, I know,” she said. She looked away.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. It’s fine that you don’t just think of it. But it is true. I get it. I know what it’s like to feel different. But I also know what it’s like to find people who get you. Who see past the obvious surface things and know you. Understand you.”

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever actually understood me. I mean, my dad, Creed and Jackson, they all lost my mother, just like I did. And you lost your mother. You’re about the closest anyone could ever come to understanding exactly what I’ve been through. But I think the thing that gets me is that... Or maybe I’m not very good at making myself understood. I’m just... I’m upset at how much this is my fault, I guess. I was mad at my dad, I am mad at him, but you’re right. He wouldn’t hurt me on purpose. I feel all these things and no one seems to know, and I don’t know how to fix it. Except...you I just talk to.”

“I’m glad, Honey,” he said. “Your dad does care about you though. He knew I wouldn’t get rid of you.” He slid his hand down her arm. “I was never going to throw you out on the street or take your job away.”

He was callous sometimes, and he knew that. His life had made him that way. But he’d never do anything to intentionally hurt Honey.

“But working for you isn’t exactly the same as having a real career, is it? It’s not the same as what I thought I was working toward. I guess that I somehow managed to never really... That he never considered it... I don’t know. I just feel so desperately like maybe no one’s ever known me, and maybe I don’t show who I am enough. I’ve always felt like I was really honest. About who I was and what I wanted, but you know, I hid wanting you the whole time. Really well. Maybe I’m just hiding. Maybe it’s a whole lot of hiding.”

“Hey,” he said. “We’re all hiding. The fact of the matter is... We’ve been almost like family this whole time.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

“Well, it’s true. And for family you put on a little bit of a performance. Because there’s parts of yourself that you gotta keep quiet. It’s just...what you do. It’s just how you navigate things. At least... That’s my experience of family. I never wanted my mom to know how difficult it was for me when she was sick. So I hid that. Because I had to be strong.”

He wanted to talk to her, and he didn’t much ever want to talk to anyone. But maybe it was what she’d said. About being misunderstood. Maybe that was why. Maybe he wanted to find ways they could understand each other.

She nodded. “Maybe that’s it. I’m so used to hiding what I want, because I wanted a lot of things that my dad couldn’t give me. And I never wanted to make him sad. So I just... I kind of bump along and pretend everything is great. Even when it isn’t.”

“It is not too late,” he said. “Obviously, there’s no question of you going to see Donavan now.”

“I took a job from him, Jericho. He needs at least time to find a replacement.”

“You aren’t touching him.”

She looked shocked. “No, of course I wouldn’t.”

He didn’t have the right to make that statement, not when they were supposed to just be...for the blizzard. But still. He couldn’t stand the thought. It made him see red.

“I’m willing to sell you part of the winery.”

And hell, there were layers of complications now. But this... This thing between them, it was only for the blizzard. It was only for the blizzard.

“You will?”

“Yeah,” he said.

Because somewhere along the way the reason that he had wanted the winery, that desperate desire to claim his place in the valley, in the family... It had faded a little bit. Because he could see now that Honey wanted the same thing. And he didn’t want to take it from her.

He would have, before this. Because what he wanted had felt more important, but it just didn’t anymore.

“I’d like that. I mean, I have money. From the sale. We’re just kind of passing it back and forth.”

“You can make payments on a bigger part of the winery, if you want. Because otherwise you’re only getting a fifth.”

“I’ll consider it. I’ll buy a fifth, and then we’ll see. If I want to pursue a bigger share, I will after that.”

“That sounds a good plan.”

“Can we get the Christmas tree now?”

“Yes,” he said. “Bundle up. We’ll go get a Christmas tree now.”

By the time they got out of the tub and dressed, twilight had fallen. This single day had felt like four days. And Honey felt a little bit like she was in a daze. But the good kind.

Being with him had been... Transformative. She felt transformed.

She wasn’t going to tell him that, because his ego was healthy enough without her stoking the flames, but it was true.

They didn’t have to go far into the woods to find a decent tree, and Jericho chopped it down, then slung it over his shoulder to carry back. As he walked, icy little droplets fell from the tree and hit Honey in the face, but she didn’t mind. She felt...renewed.

She was going to be able to buy a piece of the winery. She and Jericho were...

Something twisted in her stomach. Nothing, you’re nothing.

Right. Of course. They weren’t anything. They were just... For the blizzard.

The snow had eased up, no longer falling in large fat flakes and piling up higher and higher. Still, it was so cold it wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.

Before they went back to the cabin, Jericho walked to the truck and confirmed that it was still blocked in.

She laughed as he shook the tree out when they got to the porch, and then leaned it up against the wall in the living room, because there was no tree stand.

Honey found string and some popcorn kernels, which she popped on the stovetop in a big Dutch oven, and the two of them worked at making popcorn strings by lantern light, which then led to a contest to see who could make the most innocuous household object into a tree decoration.

In the end, their monstrous masterpiece included several ceramic figurines, a tinfoil star up on the very top and, possibly silliest of all, some perfume bottles hung from the branches by string, which ended up twinkling merrily in the lantern light and giving the entire thing a cheerfully strange effect.

“Without a doubt, the weirdest ass Christmas tree I have ever seen,” Jericho said, taking a step back and putting his arm around her. The casual touch was so strange. How odd to have gone from existing in a space where it felt like there was a wall between them physically, to this moment, where they had now bathed together, and he was touching her like she was his...

She wasn’t anything. She was just Honey.

She looked up at him, at his sculpted face, the firelight illuminating his brown skin. His dark eyes glittered there, his square jaw rough with black stubble, his lips... Well, now she knew what they tasted like. And what they felt like when they tasted her.

How could she ever go back to a time when she didn’t know that? Where he wasn’t hers anymore? To touch and do with as she pleased. How could she ever bear it?

You’ve borne a lot of things. You’ll just have to bear this too.

She had more than she had when she’d first set out on this trip. She lost her virginity and she secured a job. It just wasn’t what she’d been planning.

It was better.

She’d gotten what she wanted.

She wanted him physically, and nothing more.

And if the thought of that made her ache now... That was her own problem. It certainly wasn’t his.

“It is indeed. But it’s nice.”

They lit a fire in the hearth there, and Jericho brought furs down from upstairs and spread them over the floor while Honey gathered together some cheeses, cured meats and crackers for a cheese board. There was even a glass of wine, and all up, the entire thing felt nearly sophisticated.

“I didn’t imagine that being off-grid could be so glamorous.”

“Helped very much by the fact that the generator runs some indoor plumbing,” he pointed out.

“Well. There is that.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not much glamour to be had with an outhouse.”

“No indeed.”

They settled into each other, into the moment. The furs soft and warm, the fire crackling in the hearth. It felt safe, right. She felt safe. To say what she needed to. To feel what she needed to.

The thought made her heart feel pierced, because her emotions had felt too big and wrong from the time she was a girl.

From back when her father had been so upset with her grief, and she had nearly drowned in it. And she’d learned to put it away because she’d had to.

“I never knew what to do about you,” she said, her chest feeling tender. She shouldn’t talk about this. Except, maybe it would help. Maybe it would explain things. Because she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that she had a future with Jericho, and she never had been. It was just that... She knew him. And there was something about desiring him that had felt both dangerous and safe at the same time. And maybe that was it. Maybe that was all it was. Because she hadn’t had a mother to talk to her about those things...

“You were this...teenage boy that came into the house and you weren’t my brother. And you made me feel all kinds of things and they were scary. I’ve never really had anyone I could talk to about this. Some casual friends at school when I was kind of on the outskirts of a couple of different groups. But I never really felt like I could share with them. I never really wanted to. It felt too... Precarious, I guess. I didn’t know how I was going to explain to the girls in my class that I was more interested in a boy in his twenties than a boy my age. And I didn’t really want to... I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that you’ve always felt safe.”

“Safe?” he questioned, lifting his brows.

“You know. Not in a beige kind of way, but in a... I’ve always had a lot of feelings, and I’ve always been around men. And the way that men do feelings. And so I’ve always had to be really careful... Or I felt like I did. Because I wanted to fit in and I wanted to be understood, but at the same time I didn’t want my brothers or my dad to think that I was dramatic. And I didn’t... I dunno, maybe keeping my sexual attraction type feelings down to somebody like you was... Because I could talk to you, always. Even with all of that. Because our relationship has always been... Sure, we fight and things like that, but it’s always been important. And kinda special. And...”

“You’ve been lonely for a long time, haven’t you?”

The words were far too incisive, and they hit Honey right where she lived.

“Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.”

“Well, we can talk.”

“We’ve always been able to talk,” she said. “I mean, that’s what I’m saying.”

“You did not tell me about the way you felt about the winery.”

“Yes, I did. I just waited too long to do it. But you were still the first person that I told.”

He shook his head. “Honey, you should’ve talked to me sooner.”

“And what would you have said?”

He looked at her, long and hard. “That I was buying it. And you were out of luck.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“I feel differently about it now though.”

“Oh please don’t... Please don’t be trading my virginity for a fifth of the winery.”

He recoiled. “No,” he said. “That’s not it. It’s talking to you. It’s talking to you and understanding where you’re coming from. What you want. It’s actually listening. Which, I’m embarrassed to say, hasn’t always been my strong point.”

“Well, mine either. Which you know.”

“Here we are. Listening.”

She looked up at him, and her happiness suddenly felt so big that it threatened to overflow, and with that came a sense of wonder so big it threatened to burst from her mouth in the form of a song or a laugh or... Declarations that she wouldn’t even really mean.

She didn’t know if it was the wine making her a little bit tipsy or if it was just...him.

“This is the Maxfield label,” she said. She shook her head. “So basic.”

“The wine or the fact that they have it?”

“Regrettably, the wine is complex and lovely,” she said.

“It is,” Jericho said. “Not like my wine. Our wine.” He shook his head. “This is some surreal stuff.”

“What is?”

“I guess it’s the same moment that you had up in the tub earlier. Us. Sitting here together. Drinking wine. I own a winery. Same as I don’t know how I got from that boy to here.”

“I do,” she said. “You worked hard. I mean, you more than worked hard. You worked like there was a demon on your back.”

“Yeah. I guess I did.”

“And this is what you’ve earned. You know, less my fifth.”

“True.”

And suddenly, this wasn’t enough. The joy that she had felt a moment ago was still there, but it had taken on a strange, sharp sensation. It made her feel like she was suffocating. Like she couldn’t breathe.

There was a desperation with it. A hunger. And she didn’t know how to satisfy it. Because it wasn’t enough just to sit here with him. Wasn’t enough just to talk to him. Suddenly, they weren’t close enough. And much like what he’d said just a moment ago, she couldn’t reconcile where they were right now with where they had been two days ago. The Honey and Jericho that had walked through the snow to this cabin were not the same two people that sat here now.

Or maybe they were. And that was the strangest part. That the transformation was so real. That it had actually just reshaped everything that she had believed about him, about herself. About her feelings. Or perhaps it had simply exposed what was already there. He had wanted her before. And she wanted him. It was just that they hadn’t been able to be honest enough about it because their worries about what other people might think got in the way.

And there was none of that here.

This was like a snow globe, its own separate world with a beautiful glass dome that kept the bad parts away. Their trauma, their pasts. All the people they might disappoint, the future, and what they could or couldn’t have in it. All of that. It was as if only they and this moment truly existed. Encircled by snow and magic and firelight. By an improbable Christmas tree and an improbable desire. Because outside of the space they were both...too them to ever make something work. That was just a fact. But here... Here it all seemed possible. And she wanted to seize hold of it. Wanted to grab it and hold it to her chest, claim it for herself, only for herself.

She felt wild with it. Selfish. And utterly and completely at peace with it.

Because he was hers. And this moment was hers.

And she wanted it to be naked.

She wanted him skin to skin. She wanted him inside of her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him then. The flavor of the wine lingering on his lips, and the desperation of her desire creating a palpable need that drove her. Made her feel wild.

She clung to him, and she didn’t know if she wanted him to feel what was inside of her, or if she never wanted him to know. If she didn’t even want him to get a peek at the profound, forever changing sensations that were rolling through her. Her desire was so deep. So raw and real that it touched places in her own soul that she had never seen before, and the idea of sharing it was terrifying. So all she did was kiss him. All she did was kiss him, because it was all that could be done. Because everything else felt uncertain. Because she didn’t even know what she wanted. Because she didn’t have names for the feelings that ebbed and flowed and grew and snaked themselves around her like vines or glitter, magic or a curse, she didn’t know. She took her shirt off and cast it to the side, then pushed her hand beneath the waist of his. His body was solid, hard and well muscled, and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when her fingertips grazed over his abs.

Because she had spent a lot of years fantasizing about this. About him, and emotion aside, there was just so much pent-up desire there.

No. There was no emotion aside, there never could be. And that had been her biggest mistake. Thinking that desire and emotion did not have to exist together. Thinking that she could simply ignore emotion. That she did not have to take it on board. Believing that she could have sex and go back to seeing him as she had done before, or maybe even with her attraction to him neatly removed, having been explored.

No. Instead, everything had gotten tangled together, and there was no going back to seeing him any other way besides this. Because it wasn’t separate.

This need inside of her, the ache in her chest, the man that he was. It wasn’t separate. And it never could be.

She had been a fool for thinking so. For thinking that common sense and bird field guides and a hard limit on time could fix this thing. Could help them make sense of it and be sensible with it.

But there was no sense to be found here. It was only need.

It was only this.

But she tried to focus on the feel of him beneath her hands, tried to focus on his body, because at least while that overwhelmed, it was not as sharp as the rest.

She pushed his shirt up and off, moving her hands over his chest, down his stomach and back up again. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Ran her hands over his short hair, down his muscled back as she tasted him. As she angled her head and took a deep breath, meeting the thrust of his tongue with enthusiasm.

He had taken her bra off and she hadn’t even noticed, not until one large hand came up to palm her naked breasts.

She shivered.

And she arched into him, wanting more. Craving more.

She found herself laid back against the soft furs, and he was over her, and she loved the feel of his body against hers. Luxuriating in it as he removed the rest of their clothes. And then suddenly, she got that feeling of being overwhelmed again. Of deep need that demolished her sanity. All the energy building inside of her propelled her forward, and she sat up, pressing her hands against his shoulders and pushing him back.

She moved so that she was over him, leaning over and kissing him hard, her heart hammering, threatening to beat right outside her chest. She ached between her legs. Felt hollow with her need for him. She reached over for his jeans and happily found his wallet and a condom inside.

She tore it open, then with shaking and uncertain fingers, wrapped her hand around the base of his arousal as she rolled the protection over him with deep concentration.

Then she positioned herself over his body, taking him in slowly, a moan of satisfaction rising in her throat as she did.

“Jericho,” she whispered.

His hands came up and gripped her hips, his hold bruising, but she loved it.

She began to ride him. Establishing a rhythm that pleased them both, watching as the cords in his neck went tight with his need for her. She shivered. And nearly came right then, just from watching his pleasure.

From watching the effect that she had on him. He arched up into her, thrusting up, changing the tempo, the pace and the strength of it. She bowed over, grabbing hold of his face and kissing him on the mouth, shattering as her orgasm overtook her, wave after wave of pleasure that blended into his as he shouted his release, the two of them shaking and trembling in the aftermath.

Then he gathered her close, swept the cheese platter to the side and wrapped them up in the furs.

She reached out and grabbed a cracker, chewing on the end as he held her close.

Because hopefully focusing on that would keep the tears at bay. Would keep her from dissolving completely.

How could they ever go back?

There was no going back, that much she knew. But maybe they could go forward and find a new shape. A new evolution. That was what this was, after all. A different sort of shape than what they’d been before. So no, they would never be able to be the exact thing they had been previously. But maybe they could find what Honey and Jericho after sex looked like. After baths and cheese platters and sharing secrets.

They had to. There was no other choice. She owned part of the winery now.

She had what she wanted.

Yet she felt hollow. A winery and a saltine cracker were not going to fix that.