hold on to this. It’s part of my heritage.”
Hank stared at her in wonder. “You really have changed your view of Mesquite Ridge!” And maybe ranching in general.
She looked at him with the affection he’d been craving. “Although it often felt to me that the land meant more to my mom and dad than I did, you’ve shown me it doesn’t always have to be that way. You can own a ranch and make it your home and still put the people you love first in your life.”
“Agreed. But your idea is good, too. Maybe there’s a way we can combine our two proposals, and come up with something even more solid. In the meantime…” Hank put both sets of papers aside. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “We have a few more things to discuss.”
She sent him a glance that started a flood of memories, both tender and erotic. “I’m not going back to Houston. I resigned my position.”
Hank gazed into her eyes. “You’re sure?” he prodded, wanting more than anything for her to be happy-even if it meant he had to commute, via helicopter gigs, to see her.
Ally nodded. “My home isn’t there anymore, Hank. It’s here.”
She couldn’t have given him a better Christmas present if she’d tried. “Does that mean I’m getting kicked out?” he teased.
“Depends.” Her green eyes went misty again. She moved closer still. “Do you want to share the space with me?”
Wary of asking for too much too soon again, Hank paused. Being roommates or live-in lovers wasn’t what he wanted. Unless it was all she was ready for. “You’re talking about living together?”
“A little more than that, actually. I love you, Hank. I love you with all my heart.”
Hope for the future mixed with the joy he felt. “I love you, too,” he told her, then paused for one long, sweet and tender kiss. He looked deep into her eyes. “More than I ever dreamed was possible…”
Ally grinned as contentment swept over them. “Which is why,” she informed him as her take-charge nature reasserted itself once again, “when all this ranch business is done, I’d like us to make it official.”
“You want to get married?” He grinned, triumphant.
Ally tilted her chin, stubborn as ever. “Got a problem with that, cowboy?”
“Not at all!” Hank laughed with delight. “I like a woman who knows what she wants and goes right after it.”
Ally rose on tiptoe and kissed him sweetly. “I like the same kind of man.”
“My answer to your proposal is yes then.” Hank danced her backward, stopping under the mistletoe. Clinging together, they made up for lost time with long, lingering kisses.
“I can’t believe it,” Ally murmured finally, when at last they drew apart and turned to admire their tree. “It’s not technically even Christmas for a few more hours, and I’ve already got everything I ever wanted. Except…” she gave a heart-wrenching sigh “…one thing.”
Hank listened in the silence of the ranch house and read her wistful expression and knew immediately what it would take to make life in the ranch complete.
“A dog of our very own,” they said in unison.
Epilogue
Ally was in the ranch house kitchen, trying to decide what to make for dinner, when Hank strolled in. His hands were full, a grin as wide as Texas on his face.
She gave him a facetious once-over and propped her hands on her denim-clad hips. Unable to completely stifle a laugh, she chided with mock censure, “Seriously? The mistletoe and Santa hat again? It’s almost Valentine’s Day!”
Hank waggled his brows and closed the distance between them in three lazy strides. He set the hat on her hair, lifted the sprig of greenery above her head, and paused to deliver a long, sensual kiss that robbed her of breath and warmed her heart.
Her toes curled in her boots.
With a look of pure male satisfaction on his handsome face, he drew back and drawled, “Cupid won’t be here with his bow and arrow for another week. But you’re right.” He bent and kissed her again, ever so tenderly this time. “That is something to anticipate. We’ll have to put our stamp on that holiday, too. In the meantime-” Hank blazed a steamy trail from her ear to her throat “-every day is Christmas, with you by my side.”
Hank was right about that, Ally thought, as she clung to him lovingly.
Finally, he drew back, his midnight-blue eyes serious now. He put the mistletoe aside and clasped her in his arms. “Besides, if this is the only thing we ever disagree about, we’re in pretty good shape, wouldn’t you say?”
Ally nodded, and stated unequivocally, “We’re a very good team.”
After confessing their love, and pledging their commitment to one another, they had easily forged a deal regarding the ranch that implemented both their ideas and benefited them each, from a business and financial perspective. Hank had helped Ally set up an office in town, where she could give others financial advice. He had cleared more land, sold the mesquite and used the proceeds to buy two hundred head more cattle.
Most important of all, they’d agreed on a wedding venue and date, and had married a week ago in a private ceremony on the ranch, with family and close friends as witness.
“Except for one tiny thing,” Ally added after a moment.
An inscrutable look came into Hank’s eyes. “A dog.”
“I want an older one,” she reiterated the discussion they had been having nearly every day in some form or another since Duchess and the puppies had gone home with Talia Brannamore.
Hank exhaled, no more willing to budge on this particular issue than she was. “And I think we need a puppy,” he said firmly.
They squared off, both silent and yet unable to stop smiling. “Does it really matter what age the dog is,” Ally asked finally, “as long as the one we adopt as ours is sweet and lovable?”
Hank winked. “And fluffy and golden…”
Ally laughed. She lifted a hand in a gesture of peace. “Okay, so we do agree on a breed.”
“It’s definitely got to be a golden retriever,” Hank said firmly, then looked at his watch. “What do you know?” he drawled, as a familiar pickup truck turned up the lane toward the ranch house. He peered out the window. “It’s time.”
He shot her a perplexed look over his broad shoulder. “I already know who it is. It’s my cousin Kurt.”
No sooner was Hank through the portal than she raced upstairs.
Into the sewing room.
Where her “gift” was on her feet, sticking her nose out the window.
Ally adjusted the big red bow around her neck and patted her head. “Come on, honey. It’s show time!”
Together, they headed down the stairs.
Before they reached the bottom, Ally heard the truck start up again and drive off.
Seconds later, Hank walked in.
His jaw dropped as he saw who was standing at Ally’s side.
“Duchess?” he said hoarsely.
Ally could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.
She gaped at the bundle of fluff with the big red bow in Hank’s arms. “And Gracie!” she cried ecstatically.
The nine-week-old puppy squirmed and jumped free. She ran to her mother, gave Duchess a quick greeting, then made a beeline for Ally.
Ally dropped to her knees, and the adorable puppy leaped into her arms, burrowing close.
