Cowboy Christmas Quotes

Oh. Momma told me not to tell you that your bed squeaks. But I think you know, 'cause I could hear it this morning. Jake dropped his fork. Tor, for the first time Jake had ever seen, turned scarlet. Maureen looked at them both and sighed. Christmas is always so interesting with you, Mark.

Can we have breakfast now? No matter how sweet it is, a man can’t live on pussy alone.

I want you.” She chuckled without opening her eyes. “Again?” “Always,” he replied.

He sauntered across the kitchen, six feet of male hotness and charm, heading in her direction like a drone missile locked on a target.

The only ride I’m interested in is on you, cowboy, but I’m sure all the women say that.

I wanted to wake with you in my arms,” he whispered. “Next time, don’t leave the bed,” he said.

I’ll always come back to you,” he said. “Always.

But just a piece of advice. Never let a man walk you to a riverside gazebo all lit up with white lights if you don’t want your head to go spinning in crazy directions.

You’re staring,” she said as she cut her eyes to him. Clayton lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I like what I see.

Tell me he’s got a cute ass in Wranglers,” Gloria pleaded. “I’ve got a weakness for cowboys.” Abby grinned. “It’s not cute. His ass is magnificent.

I always wondered why they don’t have a word for a parent who loses a child. If I’d lost Ben, I’d be a widow.

Let’s go.” “It’s not that easy.” He smoothed back her dark hair and looked into her beautiful, blue eyes. “It is when you have someone to catch you.

Books are where words live. I read to discover if anybody’s home.

And lose my cock, balls and prostate? Are you kidding me? Honey, I’m still all man. I’m just a man with decoration,” Tommy had explained before turning with a flounce and practically floating out of the room in his heels.

Christmas Eve, 1955, Benny Profane, wearing black levis, suede jacket, sneakers and big cowboy hat, happened to pass through Norfolk, Virginia. Given to sentimental impulses, he thought he'd look in on the Sailor's Grave, his old tin can's tavern on East Main Street.

How did the date go?" "Bad. A text-a-holic...." "Not the good kind of trouble." "There's only one thing to say when this happens." "What's that?" "Next.

Operation: Hansel & Gretel

Trust wisely and believe in yourself, in your vision.

Mistletoe was her new favorite holiday decoration. She would have to hang some in the kitchen. All over the house. And keep the green stuff hanging until Easter. Or Thanksgiving.

She wore a simple purple long-sleeved turtleneck, but streaks of white across her chest - flour perhaps? - distracted him, made him want to volunteer for cleanup duty.

Accept your losses and forgive your mistakes, then you can embrace a happy future.

Your office is full of hay and smells like horse manure.” “Doesn’t get any better than that.

hem your thoughts in faith and finish them with prayer.

Many people spend more time in planning  the wedding than they do in planning the marriage. Zig Ziglar

One kiss came close to sending the movie theater up in blazes. Sex would burn down the state.

Books are where words live. I read to see who's home.

If I've learned one thing it's that we can't live in regret. God doesn't want that for our lives. ~Barrett Thorn

The third time is not always the charm.

They slept that deep sleep reserved for babies and consenting adults who have worn their bodies out with hot sex.

I have a 100 percent success rate on making it through the day. I don’t expect today to be any different.” She

I'm just saying talking about the good times hurts less than trying to forget them.

All those stories of people going into the wilderness and finding themselves made sense. You could find your own insignificance out here. Your place as a thread in the patchwork of the world, rather than imagining you were the whole damn quilt.

A tree.” She spotted one. It was hidden behind a much larger tree, its limbs misshapen in its attempt to fight for even a little sunlight in the shadow. “Dana has this tradition of giving a sad-looking tree the honor of being a Christmas tree.” She walked over to the small, nearly hidden tree. “I like this one. “It’s…” He laughed. “Ugly?” “No, it’s beautiful because it’s had a hard life. It’s struggled to survive against all odds and would keep doing that without much hope. But it has a chance to be something special.

Bevve un sorso di caffè e si sporse in avanti per ravvivare il fuoco, poi prese un libro dal tavolino e cercò di concentrarsi nella lettura. Tentativo patetico e inutile. Pensò allora a come sarebbe stato condividere il ranch con una donna, un pensiero che negli ultimi tempi ritornava spesso. Pensò a Renée che se ne era andata con Craig Haas. Pensò a Rosalyn, che gli riscaldava il corpo ma non il cuore. Poi pensò a Maggie. A come si era sciolta tra le sue braccia e a come si era sciolto lui quando l’aveva sentita fremere contro di sé.

I hear it was the fact that the Brennans had a hellfireanddamnation preacher runnin' their family back in Prohibition days and you Gallaghers were runnin' moonshine to get by and got caught. Your family blamed the Brennans for rattin' you out, and that started a feud," Rosalie said.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss away her uncertainty. But if he did that she would bolt. So he brushed stray hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail off her face instead. Ignored how soft the strands felt against his fingers. Pretended his pulse wasn't stampeding like a herd of bison on the plain.

.....I'm certain I asked for a cowboy one December past-- For I wanted the excitement of pioneers to last; I ached to sing with a fiddle, speak with a drawl and twang; I surely requested John Wayne to be part of my gang. Of course I dreamed of a cowboy in those Yuletides of yore-- For I wanted that ace, that corral fighter, that scout roar; I ached for the authentic frontier hero of the West; I surely requested the sacred battleground's finest. I did pray Santa'd give me a cowboy some time ago-- For I wanted a legend in denim wrangler for beau; I ached to be rounded up safely by my saddled knight; I surely requested I be prospected, mined, settled right... -----excerpted from the poem 'A Cowboy For Christmas' in the book FROM GUAM TO CROWN CITY CORONADO (THANKS TO HERMANN, MISSOURI): A JOURNEY IN POESY, by Mariecor Ruediger

You know, I understand the way that some people view manual labor. With a kind of sneer, looking down your nose at it, like it’s less. But I’ve never found anything more satisfying than going out and making a change with my own two hands. Seeing a project through from start to finish, knowing that what I did…that it changed something. The shape of an object, the landscape. When you’re fighting fires, that your hands helped put up the blockade that preserved the wilderness. That you dug those trenches, ran those fire lines that saved houses, trees, animals. Lives. There’s no shame in it.

How did the name misfit even come about?" Sam asked. "It's so... dumb." Willo laughed. "Well, it's really not," she said. "We used to call them all sorts of slang terms: kooks, greasers, killjoys, chumps, and we had to keep changing the name as times changed. We used nerds for a long time, and then we started calling them dweebs." Willo hesitated. "And then a group of kids wasn't so nice to your mom." "I had braces," Deana said. "I had pimples. I had a perm. You do the math." She smiled briefly, but Sam could tell the pain was still there. Deana continued: "And I worked here most of the time so I really didn't get a chance to do a lot with friends after school. It was hard." This time, Willo reached out to rub her daughter's leg. "Your mom was pretty down one Christmas," she said. "All of the kids were going on a ski trip to a resort in Boyne City, but she had to stay here and work during the holiday rush. She was moping around one night, lying on the couch and watching TV..." "... stuffing holiday cookies in my mouth," Deana added. "... and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer came on. She was about to change the channel, but I made her sit back down and watch it with me. Remember the part about the Island of Misfit Toys?" Sam nodded. Willo continued. "All of those toys that were tossed away and didn't have a home because they were different: the Charlie-in-the-Box, the spotted elephant, the train with square wheels, the cowboy who rides an ostrich..." "... the swimming bird," Sam added with a laugh. "And I told your mom that all of those toys were magical and perfect because they were different," Willo said. "What made them different is what made them unique." Sam looked at her mom, who gave her a timid smile. "I walked in early the next morning to open the pie pantry, and your mom was already in there making donuts," Willo said. "She had a big plate of donuts that didn't turn out perfectly and she looked up at me and said, very quietly, 'I want to start calling them misfits.' When I asked her why, she said, 'They're as good as all the others, even if they look a bit different.' We haven't changed the name since.

We talked into the night, the room blurring around us as it had done at the dance in West Side Story when Tony and Maria first saw each other across a crowd of people. Tonight, tonight, it all began tonight. My friends giggled and sipped wine at the table where I’d abandoned them earlier in the night, oblivious to the fact that their redheaded amiga had just been struck by a lightning bolt. Before I could internally break into the second chorus of song, my version of Tony--this mysterious cowboy--announced abruptly that he had to go. Go? I thought. Go where? There’s no place on earth but this smoky bar…But there was for him: he and his brother had plans to cook Christmas turkeys for some needy folks in his small town. Mmmm. He’s nice, too, I thought as a pang stabbed my insides. “Bye,” he said with a gentle smile. And with that, his delicious boots walked right out of the J-Bar, his dark blue Wranglers cloaking a body that I was sure had to have been chiseled out of granite. My lungs felt tight, and I still smelled his scent through the bar smoke in the air. I didn’t even know his name. I prayed it wasn’t Billy Bob.

office into a sauna. She dropped her purse and keys on the credenza right inside the door and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. The electricity had already gone out. The only light in the house came from the glowing embers of scrub oak and mesquite logs in the fireplace. She held her hands out to warm them, and the rest of the rush from the drive down the slick, winding roads bottomed out, leaving her tired and sleepy. She rubbed her eyes and vowed she would not cry. Didn’t Grand remember that the day she came home from the gallery showings was special? Sage had never cut down a Christmas tree all by herself. She and Grand always went out into the canyon and hauled a nice big cedar back to the house the day after the showing. Then they carried boxes of ornaments and lights from the bunkhouse and decorated the tree, popped the tops on a couple of beers, and sat in the rocking chairs and watched the lights flicker on and off. She went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, but it was pitch-black inside. She fumbled around and there wasn’t even a beer in there. She finally located a gallon jar of milk and carried it to the cabinet, poured a glass full, and downed it without coming up for air. It took some fancy maneuvering to get the jar back inside the refrigerator, but she managed and flipped the light switch as she was leaving. “Dammit! Bloody dammit!” she said a second time using the British accent from the man who’d paid top dollar for one of her paintings. One good thing about the blizzard was if that crazy cowboy who thought he was buying the Rockin’ C could see this weather, he’d change his mind in a hurry. As soon as she and Grand got done talking, she’d personally send him an email telling him that the deal had fallen through. But he’d have to wait until they got electricity back to even get that much. Sage had lived in the house all of her twenty-six years and

about them anymore or the cowboy I’m about to marry. And Finn,

happened.

anything about

Il pastore augurò Buon Natale, il coro riprese a cantare e l’organo a suonare. Fu in quel momento che Maggie sentì che lui era vicino. Si girò appena e lo vide. Se ne stava in piedi nel corridoio centrale, a qualche passo da lei, lo Stetson fra le mani, un’espressione indecifrabile sul volto. Il sangue prese a correrle troppo veloce nelle vene e, per quanto faticasse ad ammetterlo, si sentì così felice che un sorriso le illuminò il volto, come se lui fosse tornato a casa dopo un lungo viaggio. Già, quale casa? Mitch, invece, rimase di pietra, come se la chiamata di Maggie non fosse che un’altra scocciatura da risolvere. Il sorriso si spense poco per volta sulle labbra di Maggie e gli occhi, prima ridenti, si strinsero in uno sguardo interrogativo. Se il cowboy preferiva che fra loro ci fosse il gelo, che gelo fosse. Non era obbligata a sorridergli, in fondo, né a far conversazione. Lo avrebbe solo ringraziato per il passaggio e poi, estranei come prima. Mitch le fece cenno con la testa di seguirla e, senza neppure aspettarla, ruotò su se stesso e si incamminò verso l’uscita del tempio. Maggie sentì il suo amor proprio reagire all’atteggiamento scostante di Mitch, ma decise di fingere un’indifferenza e una calma che non provava; si prese il tempo necessario per ringraziare i signori Curtis e per salutare le altre persone che, come lei, erano in fila verso l’uscita.

I’m not fighting any more today. I don’t have it in me. But I do have

place

There’s a heart-wrenching scene in Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the old stop-motion Christmas TV special, that has always resonated with me. After his run-in with the Abominable Snowman, Rudolph and his buddies seek asylum on the Island of Misfit Toys, a haven for crappy, deformed, and unwanted toys presumably built by an elf with substance abuse issues. There’s the choo-choo train with square wheels, the water pistol that shoots jelly, the cowboy riding an ostrich, the white elephant with pink polka dots, the infelicitously named Charlie-in-the-Box. “Hey we’re all misfits, too!” Rudolph squeals to his newfound friends, and everyone breaks into song. I cry every time I see it.

ours, I have to keep track of what goes in which of the gift bags lined up across the spare bedroom floor. But one thing for sure in this family: we all agree that home is where your boots are, just like Callie and Finn find out when

use an extra set of eyes to check on things for me,” Finn said. “I can do that. I like

Her sister continued to stare

Denni whispered, brushing at her tears. “So very proud. He couldn’t have done it better himself.” Unable to speak, Trey nodded his head and gave his mom a warm hug.  He took her hand, and they joined the group of adults and kids feasting on the after-program sweets. Many of those in attendance had brought in punch, cider, and trays of cookies to share after the program. Cass finally noticed Trey was missing as the crowd began to disperse and people gathered up their coats, tired children, and leftover treats. Cadence helped the little girl put on her coat, took her hand and started toward the door. Cass planted her feet and refused to budge. “We can’t leave. Trey’s lost.” “Oh, he’s not lost, sweetie-pie. He had to go take care of something important and he’ll meet us

Her grandmother’s pearls encircled her neck and she carried a bouquet of all white

see it was finally his turn to enjoy his favorite meal - prime rib, twice-baked potatoes, green beans with bacon pieces, homemade yeast rolls with berry jam and fried apples. He could barely wait to dig in. Viv and Denni contributed a few salads and side dishes and the table looked like it might buckle under the weight of all the good food. Once everyone was seated, Trey asked them to bow their heads and led them in a heartfelt prayer of thanks that ended with, “We thank thee for every gift from thy loving hands, especially for our own precious child, Cass. Please bless this food, bless the hands that prepared it, bless each one gathered around this table and bless our time together. In Jesus name we pray.” Soft whispers of “amen” echoed around the table.

Plans are only good intentions unless they immediately degenerate into hard work. Peter F. Drucker

Just because something doesn't do what you planned it to do doesn't mean it's useless.

clung

Without leaps of imagination, or dreaming,  we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning. Gloria Steinem

pang of nostalgia. Cadence

Everyone has a plan  'till they get punched in the mouth. Mike Tyson

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11 - NIV

It takes as much energy to wish as it does to plan. Eleanor Roosevelt

 Choose your friends with caution; plan your future with purpose, and frame your life with faith. Thomas S. Monson

To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe. Anatole France

So she was still single. She wondered sometimes if Blake was being deprived of male companionship solely because of her attitudes. It bothered her, but she didn’t want to change. “Snow is awesome,” he sighed, using a word that he used to denote only the best things in his life. Cherry pie was awesome. So was baseball, if the Atlanta Braves were playing, and football if the Dallas Cowboys were. She smiled at his dark head, so like her own. He had her slender build, too, but he had his father’s green eyes. Bob had been a handsome man. Handsome and far too brave for his own good. Dead at twenty-seven, she sighed, and for what? She folded her arms across her chest, cozy in the oversize red flannel shirt that she wore over well-broken-in jeans. “It’s freezing, that’s what it is,” she informed her offspring. “And it isn’t awesome; it’s irritating. Apparently, the electric generator goes out every other day, and the only man who can fix it stays drunk.” “That cowboy seems to know how,” Blake said hesitantly. Maggie agreed reluctantly. “I know. Things were running great until our foreman asked for time off to spend Christmas with his wife’s family in Pennsylvania. That leaves me in charge, and what do I know about running a ranch?” she moaned. “I grew up on a small farm, but I don’t know beans about how to manage this kind of place, and the men realize it. I suppose they don’t have any confidence in working for a secretary, even just temporarily.” “Well, there’s always Mr. Hollister,” Blake said with pursed lips and a wicked grin. She glared at him. “Mr. Hollister hates me. He hates you, too, in fact, but you don’t seem to let that stand in the way of your admiration for the man.” She threw up her hands, off on her favorite subject again. “For heaven’s sake, he’s a cross between a bear and a moose! He never comes off his mountain except when he wants to cuss somebody out or raise hell!” “He’s lonely,” Blake pointed out. “He lives all by himself. It’s hard going, I’ll bet, and he has to eat his own cooking.” He sat up enthusiastically, his thick hair over his brow. “Grandpa said he once knew a man who quit working for Mr. Hollister just because the cook got sick and Mr. Hollister had to feed the men.” Maggie glanced at her son with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “He probably fed them some of his

God has a plan for all of us, but He expects us to do our share of the work. Minnie Pearl

all she had to do was go outside and look at the mountains to know God existed.

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carpenter

What if there is something better than this life? What if to die in this life is to go on to something so wonderful that if you have the choice to come back, you would choose not to. That means that death really isn’t a bad thing, it’s actually good. We just can’t see it because we lack the ability to look that far. Kind of like if I walked down the street, I can’t see the Pacific Ocean. It’s there, and I know it, but I can’t see it.

folks were

Of course, the other piece of having a male best friend. He often didn’t pick up on subtext, which meant that he usually wasn’t mad at her when she thought that he might be. Because he hadn’t realized she had done anything that should make him mad.

For the first time, he fully understood why being damned with faint praise was actually worse than being maligned.

Eli was exhausted. He’d slept little

thought of myself as father material.” He

Sitting on his horse, his hat pulled down to shade his eyes, the guy was a living, breathing ad for why every girl needed a cowboy under her tree this Christmas.

feud

christmas is a time for family and friends since when does know body care when you say merry xmas. people don't care about the other or the ones one the street but didn't god give everthing to give us a better life'. and to make the person we are. sometimes family forgets that we all are the same and that god loves us all no matter who we are and what we are .we may smoke' drink cuss but we are still there and are human. we may slip at times and forget who we are but we know that we are human and are family. we might not show it but we love and believe in who we are. but'' GOD put us here for something. was it to ignore 'everyone or to help each other. we live our lifes not caring about what is going on but yet we don't give a damm. christmas should not be the only time that we care about everyone. stop and think about it when was it that you told someone thank you when you was in the store or offered to help someone that didn't put you out of your way. or when did you forget to forgive and just say I LOVE YOU. did you really look at yourself. and look beyound that. what would the world be if knowbody cared and couldn't say thank you or that i love you. god bless everyone just stop and think. everyone has feelings and need to be loved

Pruitt

years.

cowboy,” Mitchell said

for the rest of the night. Other than to refuel with holiday leftovers. “Would you still love me if I told you I didn’t know what tasted better, Christmas leftovers or you?” Jana cocked her eyebrow with a sexy smile on her face. Damn, she was beautiful. “No but I will be mad unless you do some very thorough research and come up with a satisfying answer…” I grinned. This Christmas was unlike any of the others Jana and I had spent together. This time we had two little boys, a bigger family and we’d faced our biggest threat yet and come out on top. “If it’s for the sake of research, consider me in babe.” And I spent the rest of the night doing science. Between the gorgeous legs of my beautiful wife. I was pretty sure in that moment, life for the Reckless Bastard’s couldn’t get any better. Merry friggin’ Christmas to us! * * * * If you think the Reckless Bastards are spicy bad boys, they’re nothing compared to the steam in my next series Reckless MC Opey, TX Chapter where Gunnar and Maisie move to Texas! There’s also a sneak peek on the next page.   Don’t wait — grab your copy today!  Copyright © 2019 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing Inc Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing Inc Chapter One Gunnar “We’re gonna be cowboys!” Maisie had been singing that song since we got on the interstate and left Nevada and the only family we’d had in the world behind. For good. Cross was my oldest friend, and I’d miss him the most, even though I knew we’d never lose touch. I’d miss Jag too, even Golden Boy and Max. The prospects were cool, but I had no attachment to them. Though I gave him a lot of shit, I knew I’d even miss Stitch. A little. It didn’t matter that the last year had been filled with more shit than gold, or that I was leaving Vegas in the dust, we were all closer for the hell we’d been through. But still, I was leaving. Maisie and I’d been on the road for a couple of days. Traveling with a small child took a long damn time. Between bathroom breaks and snack times we’d be lucky to make it to Opey by the end of the month. Lucky for me, Maisie had her mind set on us becoming cowboys, complete with ten gallon hats, spurs and chaps, so she hadn’t shed one tear, yet. It wasn’t something I’d been hoping for but I was waiting patiently for reality to sink in and the uncontrollable sobs that had a way of breaking a grown man’s heart. “You’re not a boy,” I told her and smiled through the rear view mirror. “Hard to be a cowboy if you’re not even a boy.” Maisie grinned, a full row of bright white baby teeth shining back at me right along with sapphire blue eyes and hair so black it looked to be painted on with ink. “I’m gonna be a cowgirl then! A cowgirl!” She went on and on for what felt like forever, in only the way that a four year old could, about all the cool cowgirl stuff she’d have. “Boots and a pony too!” “A pony? You can’t even tie your shoes or clean up your toys and you want a pony?” She nodded in that exaggerated way little kids did. “I’ll learn,” she said with the certainty of a know it all teenager, a thought that terrified the hell out of me. “You’ll help me, Gunny!” Her words brought a smile to my face even though I hated that fucking nickname she’d picked up from a woman I refused to think about ever again. I’d help Maisie because that’s what family did. Hell, she was the reason I’d uprooted my entire fucking life and headed to the great unknown wilds of Texas. To give Maisie a normal life or as close to normal as I was capable of giving her. “I’ll always help you, Squirt.” “I know. Love you Gunny!” “Love you too, Cowgirl.” I winked in the mirror and her face lit up with happiness. It was the pure joy on her face, putting a bloom in her cheeks that convinced me this was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to move to Texas, and I didn’t want to live on a goddamn ranch, but that was my future. The property was already bought and paid for with my name

Bree’s car wasn’t there, which indicated she’d likely gone down the canyon to her boyfriend’s house.

heaved

That kiss held everything I’d ever wanted. And inside that moment, my past evaporated. And a shiny new future appeared.

Just think of all the myths predominantly white Western culture has been primed to believe in: Christopher Columbus's "discovery" of the New World, the origins of Thanksgiving, the Lost Cause, the American Cowboy, capitalism, the War on Christmas. Years, sometimes centuries later, what were once facts have hardened in the cultural imagination into something other than what they originally were, having morphed and become about as reliable as a phrase passed along in the midst of a game of telephone. They've become convenient tales of bravado and pride, frequently in service of upholding white supremacy.

Daddy's Little Girl acoustic melodic country [Verse] I see the pictures on your wall, moments I missed First steps, school plays, birthdays, and dusty Christmas gifts I know I've let you down, in ways too many to say But you're always on my mind, every single day [Verse 2] Your mama raised you strong, through storm and sunshine I see her in your eyes, the way you hold the line I was lost and wandering, trying to find myself But I’ve found my way back home, where you always dwelt [Chorus] I'm sorry I wasn't there, when you needed me the most I'm sorry I wasn't the father, you needed me to be But I'll always love you, 'cross the miles and in the dark You'll always be daddy's little girl, forever in my heart [Verse 3] The years keep slipping by, like a river to the sea Moments I can't get back, the man I used to be But I promise you right here, I'll never let you down From this day on, I'll always be around [Verse 4] Forgiveness ain't easy, you’ve built walls so high But I’ll keep on trying, till my last goodbye I’ll be your rock, your anchor, the father that you need The hand to hold, the heart that bleeds [Chorus] I'm sorry I wasn't there, when you needed me the most I'm sorry I wasn't the father, you needed me to be But I'll always love you, 'cross the miles and in the dark You'll always be daddy's little girl, forever in my heart

Here's the thing, Jaimi Hamilton. I've been looking for a woman for a long time, and I think you might be her.

Bonner and Casey lived in different worlds. City and country.

Yup. The best way to absorb the cowboy lifestyle was to just jump right into it... or on top of one. Casey smiled.

It's like a Hallmark movie...if Hallmark movies had hot sex - Cat Johnson

medical supplies?

In the distance, he could see a large star made out of red and green lights on the side of a barn, a reminder that Christmas was coming.

It's hard to find the words when your life gets flipped upside down.

Reality was that no matter how well he filled out those creased jeans, he truly was forbidden fruit.

Please go home with me and stay forever. I will hide you in my closet and take you out at night, and I promise to be gentle," he said between kisses.

You, Declan, are sexy as hell." He leaned in and kissed the top of her breasts. "And how sexy is that?" "Think of the heat down there in hell. You are seven times hotter than that.

You’re a real cowboy.” He laughed. “You’re just now realizing that?

DJ saw the change in his expression the moment before he dropped the ax, reached out with his gloved hand and, cupping her neck, drew her to him. “I believe you owe me a kiss.

I want to die.” May shook her head. “Let me get a knife.” “I’ve made a horrible mess of things.” “Haven’t we all? If you don’t want your supper burned, die quietly while I get back to the kitchen.