Snowed in at the Ranch. Cara Colter
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and as the smoke detector continued to shriek, Amy was aware her own five-alarm fire had started going off deep inside of her.
She dared look at the boxers. Her mouth fell open.
Ty Halliday was wearing bright red boxer shorts, low, snugged over his flat hips and the taut lines of his lower belly. And what were his red boxer shorts covered with?
Santa, his sleigh and twelve reindeer. She presumed twelve reindeer, because she really shouldn’t count.
She didn’t want to appear too interested, but she could not draw her eyes away until she had read the words that were also dancing across the shorts.
Have you been naughty or nice?
For the second time that day, she started to laugh. She laughed so hard the tears squirted from her eyes.
Or maybe that was the smoke.
Ty folded those gorgeous muscled arms over an equally gorgeous muscled chest, planted his long, muscled legs far apart.
If it weren’t for the shorts, he would definitely have the intimidating presence she was fairly certain he was aiming for.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” he yelled over the screaming alarm, the baby howling and her laughter.
“You don’t?” she gasped.
“No, I don’t,” he said sternly.
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