Saving the Cowboy’s Christmas (Rowdy Ranch #12)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

L ani arrived at her parents’ cabin as they were fixing an early lunch prior to heading into town. After some last-minute Christmas shopping they’d have dinner at the Buffalo.

When they invited her to go along, she told them the truth. She had to finish reading a manuscript by tomorrow.

It wasn’t a lie, but it felt like one. She’d left a lot unsaid and she wasn’t used to keeping secrets from her folks. But Rance’s book wasn’t her secret. It was his, and he’d entrusted it to her. Her feelings about that ran the gamut.

If the book had been carelessly written, something he’d tossed off as an excuse to reel her in, she would have been furious. But there was nothing careless about this effort. Even seasoned professionals had typos. She’d found only one so far.

To be fair, she might have missed a few. Sophia and Dooley kept her so enthralled that she’d settled for a peanut butter sandwich and called it dinner so she could keep reading.

Rance had successfully mirrored the sassy tone of Moonlighting and taken it up a notch. Those two were hysterical together.

And hot. After their first kiss, she’d wondered how far Rance would go with the relationship. She’d put on her pajamas and climbed into bed by the time she found out. He’d written the most sensual love scene she’d ever read. Flushed and aroused, she closed her eyes and relived the moment Rance’s mouth had claimed hers.

If he made love the way he’d written this scene….

The sound of her parents’ truck pulling in blasted through her lusty thoughts. Scrambling out of bed, she closed her door and switched off the light.

The front door opened and they came in, laughing about something. “Lani?” her mother called. “We’re back. I wish you’d?—”

Then her dad murmured something.

“I guess you’re right,” her mom said. “There’s no light under her door. The sleigh ride must have tuckered her out.” Her retreating footsteps, muted conversation and more laughter indicated they might stay up for a while longer.

She wouldn’t have to continue playing possum, though. They’d designed their cabin with two generously sized bedrooms on either side of the house with the living room and kitchen in the middle. She had plenty of privacy and her own bathroom.

That didn’t mean she was willing to smuggle Rance in here, even if that sounded extremely appealing at the moment. She sat in the dark, her palms flat against the manuscript as if she could somehow make physical contact with him through the printed words.

Had she reacted to the scene more fully because she’d kissed the author? Maybe, but she couldn’t deny he’d done a magnificent job.

The beautifully written sensual encounter was a potent spice flavoring a juicy meal of action, suspense and humor. She rarely found that combo in a first timer, especially if the writer was male.

The editor in her was dazzled. The woman had been thoroughly seduced. Was he counting on that? She’d always known he was clever. And devious. And full of the devil.

She hadn’t credited him with patience. He'd planned this for almost a year. He’d cultivated his friendship with Sara, who’d become his ally.

Meanwhile he’d worked in secret with the goal of handing over a finished manuscript to a woman who loved words and delighted in those who used them well. He’d made himself damn near irresistible.

Admiration warred with alarm. She’d seriously underestimated Rance McLintock. She was dealing with a mastermind.

Switching on the light, she returned her attention to Sophia and Dooley — or more accurately, Lani and Rance. She saw him as Dooley, now. Every female reader would once they got a look at a publicity shot of Rance in a Stetson, his cocky smile fueling their fantasies.

Authors always claimed they weren’t their characters, and some things about Dooley didn’t fit Rance. For one thing, he didn’t keep a gun behind the bar. He’d never, at least to her knowledge, been a deputy.

But he had an Irish granny who sounded just like the woman temporarily living in his cabin. And he was crazy about Sophia, a brunette with hazel eyes.

This was a series, so the tug-of-war between the characters wouldn’t be resolved in this story or the ones that followed. She doubted Rance envisioned that scenario for his personal story, though.

He wanted a resolution and he was pulling out all the stops to get it. Unfortunately for him, he’d picked the wrong woman. Eventually he’d figure that out.

Meanwhile, she had a book submission to finish. She let herself sink back into Dooley and Sophia’s world.

She took her time. The prose was delicious, chock-full of words and phrases that deserved to be savored. As with all her favorite books, she hated to see it end.

When it did, she wanted the next one in the series. Immediately. Had he even started it? One way to find out. She picked up her phone.

He answered on the first ring. “You’re done?”

“Just now.” She glanced at the time on her screen. “Good Lord, it’s two-thirty.”

“Never mind that. Tell me what you think.”

“My boss would hate me for saying this, but you need a bigger house, one that can get you on the Times list. You deserve to be there.”

“Thank you.” His voice sounded husky.

“Are you okay? Did I wake you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I’ll bet I did. Your voice is a little froggy.”

“I’m just… very happy.” He cleared his throat. “Very happy indeed.”

He wasn’t sleepy. He’d sounded gruff because he was touched by what she’d said. That was sweet. And sexy. “I’m serious. You should take this to a major house.”

“I’d need an agent unless I want it buried in the slush pile for years.”

“Ask your mom’s agent to pitch it without mentioning you’re her son.”

“So a publisher buys it without knowing who I am, but they’ll find out soon enough. Besides, I don’t want to be a cog in a big machine. Even Mom doesn’t always get what she wants. I figure a small press gives me a better chance of having a say in the process.”

“You would. We pride ourselves on listening to the author’s ideas and implementing them whenever possible.”

“And you know me personally. I’m not just some guy off the street. But like I said on the sleigh ride, the main reason I gave it to you is?—”

“You wanted me to read the sexy scenes.”

“No! I mean, yeah, I did, but?—”

“I knew it! The book is part of your master plan to?—”

“I wanted an unbiased opinion.”

“Of the sex scenes?’

“Of the whole thing!”

“There’s no bias regarding the rest of it, but I can’t say that about the sex scenes.”

“Why not?”

“Because you kissed me, genius! You think that didn’t change how I read the sensual parts? That it didn’t make them twice as hot?”

He chuckled. “So they worked for you.”

“Of course, but I can’t pretend that my opinion of those scenes lacks bias. Not after you laid one on me.”

“Good to know.” Laughter rippled through his words. “Maybe I should limber up my lips before a signing and kiss every woman who buys the book. Interesting marketing strategy.”

Talking about his lips was not a good idea. She needed to hang up and calm down. “Anyway, you have my evaluation. Have a good night, what’s left of it.”

“Lani, wait.”

His low, urgent tone sent a surge of heat through her overstimulated body. “What?”

“What you said about my book, the confidence you have in it — that’s huge. I can’t let you hang up without letting you know how much it means. You’ve given me the best Christmas gift of my life. If you hadn’t liked it, I… well, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“It’s only one person’s opinion, Rance.”

“But yours is the one I trust. You may be the only one I fully trust to tell me the unvarnished truth.”

“You’re giving me too much power.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You can’t imagine how much power you wield when it comes to me.”

The vulnerability in that statement stole her breath. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Just say you’ll come over tomorrow night.”

“Listen, we really shouldn’t?—”

“I know. I get it. Come over for Granny. Let her feed you. She’ll want to hear everything you have to say about the book. She’s been almost as anxious about what you’d think of it as I have. Just have dinner. You don’t have to stay.”

“You won’t try to talk me into it?”

“No, ma’am.”

“All right then.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up about five-thirty. Bring the book.”

“Of course. Good night, Rance.”

“Good night, Lani. Sweet dreams.”

She disconnected. Sweet dreams, indeed. She’d have dreams, but guaranteed they wouldn’t be sweet.

Dinner with Granny while they talked about the future of Rance’s excellent book would be tons of fun. He wouldn’t coax her to stay. He was too smart for that. And more patient than she ever would have believed.

He’d give her the choice. She just had to make the right one.