Naughty And Nice

‘Tis the Season for Romance

A famous singer reunites with an old flame. A couple explores their desire to be truly bound together. Newlyweds heat things up when they’re trapped indoors. And sparks fly when the lights go out. Whether you are naughty or nice, you can still get what you really want for Christmas in this collection of four seasonal shorts.

Anthology includes nice novellas:
Holiday Sparks by Shannon Stacey
All She Wants for Christmas by Jaci Burton

And naughty novellas:
Unwrapped by Megan Hart
Believe by Lauren Dane

Stories also available for purchase separately.

Dear Reader,

There’s something magical about the holiday season, whether you celebrate Christmas or Kwanzaa, Hanukkah or Diwali. The energy and excitement surrounding these holidays charges the air and our emotions, providing a perfect platform for romance and love. So I knew we couldn’t let Carina Press’s first holiday season pass without celebrating it with a collection of special novella releases.

This holiday season, celebrate with our first collection of invitation-only novellas. We’ve pulled together eleven talented authors and author duos, all of whom have made their mark in their respective niches, and invited them to transport our readers with holiday delights. In Naughty and Nice, join Jaci Burton, Lauren Dane, Megan Hart and Shannon Stacey as they show you both the sensual and sweet sides of the holidays. Visit post-apocalyptic worlds and paranormal beings in an enchanted journey with authors Vivi Andrews, Moira Rogers and Vivian Arend in Winter Wishes. And celebrate the beauty of the season in His for the Holidays with m/m authors Josh Lanyon, Z.A. Maxfield, Harper Fox and LB Gregg.

Through the talent of their writing and their captivating storytelling, I believe you’ll find something in each of these special novellas to put you in the magic of the holiday moment.

Wishing you the happiest of holiday seasons.

~Angela
Executive Editor, Carina Press

www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress

Nice

Contents

Copyright

Holiday Sparks: Shannon Stacey

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

About the Author

All She Wants For Christmas: Jaci Burton

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

About the Author

Unwrapped: Megan Hart

Begin Reading

About the Author

Believe: Lauren Dane

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

About the Author

Holiday Sparks

By Shannon Stacey

House-sitting for her parents seemed like a good idea, until the microwave blew up and the lights went out.

Now Chloe Burke thinks upgrading the electrical system of her childhood home while they are away would make the perfect Christmas gift. Fortunately, there’s an electrician in town who can get the job done by the holidays.

Scott Quinn has wanted to get his hands on the Burkes’ wiring for almost as long as he’s wanted to get his hands on their daughter. Chloe didn’t notice Scott back in high school, but she’s noticing him now, and soon they’re indulging in a little festive fun: no strings, no expectations. After all, Chloe plans to get out of this goldfish bowl of a town and back to her real life in Boston by New Year’s.

But Chloe and Scott discover they enjoy each other’s company just as much out of bed. Could their holiday fling turn out to be the real thing?

Dedication

For Annmarie, one of the most joyful people I know. Your warmth, humor and generosity of spirit are like a little bit of Christmas, all the year round. And for the real Kojak. Even after twenty-three years or so, I still miss you.

Chapter One

House sitting her childhood home seemed like a good idea until the microwave blew up and the lights went out.

Okay, so the microwave didn’t exactly blow up—it was more of a pop—and it wasn’t all of the lights, but Chloe Burke wouldn’t be trusting her laptop to her parents’ kitchen outlets anytime soon. It was still light outside, but on an early December day in Maine darkness fell fast and early, so she grabbed a flashlight before venturing down into the basement.

Where she found some ancient, round, screw-in things instead of a neat row of circuit breakers. Since her skill set ran to designing websites rather than poking her fingers into faulty electrical systems, it was time to call a professional.

The phonebook was in the same kitchen drawer phonebooks had been kept in for as long as Chloe could remember, and a handwritten sheet of frequently used numbers was still tucked inside the cover. The paper wasn’t yellow and didn’t fall apart in her hand, so hopefully the info was from the current decade at least. And because her parents were more than comfortable in the ‘80s, they still had an old-fashioned, corded phone that didn’t need juice to work. That was good since her cellphone’s battery was almost dead.

The name of the company she remembered her parents using had been crossed out and a new name—Quinn Electric—and a number were squeezed in next to electrician. The name was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. A friend of her dad, maybe.

Despite the fact it was probably past regular business hours, the phone was answered on the second ring. “Quinn Electric.”

An incredibly sexy voice, so probably not one of her dad’s VFW buddies. “Hi. I know it’s late, but I think I have an electrical problem. I turned the microwave on and the lights went out.”

“That’s definitely an electrical problem.”

Under the initial sexy impact, his voice was warm and had a touch of humor that had her twirling the cord around her finger like a teenage girl. “The furnace is still running, so I guess it’s not an emergency, but—”

“Where’s your house?”

“It’s actually my parents’ house.” She gave him the address and crossed her fingers. Maybe it wasn’t really an emergency, but she wasn’t a big fan of the dark, either.

He chuckled, a delicious sound that seemed to vibrate through the phone line and into her body. “This must be Chloe. Did John and Anna at least get on their ship before you broke their house?”

The curse of the small town. “Yes, they’re safely at sea. And I checked the electrical box, by the way. Or I tried to, but I didn’t find circuit breakers, which I at least know what to do with.”

“I’ve been trying to talk your old man into ditching those old fuses and upgrading his service for a while, but he’s, uh…”

“Cheap?”

“I was going to say frugal.”

“I’m not, so can we set up a time for you to fix the fuse or whatever it is you have to do to get my lights back on?”

“I just finished up at the Fosters, so I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Oh. Can’t beat that kind of service.”

“I aim to please,” he said and, maybe it was her imagination, but it sounded like his voice had dropped an octave, into the bedroom voice range.

Which was ridiculous, she thought as they hung up. He didn’t know her and a guy didn’t build a business by throwing innuendo at potential customers. Besides, knowing her luck, the man wouldn’t live up to the voice. He’d probably have a beer gut and an ample display of hairy ass crack.

While she waited for the guy aiming to please her to show up, she carried in her luggage and set it in the living room. The laptop case she left on the dining room table. Maybe he’d please her by testing outlets and finding her one that wouldn’t fry her computer.

It wasn’t until she dumped the road trip coffee she’d been trying to reheat in the microwave down the drain that she saw the note next to the sink. It was still fairly light outside, but dark enough in the kitchen now that she needed the flashlight to make it out.

Hi, honey. The house isn’t as young as it used to be, so a few things. Don’t turn on the microwave if the light over the kitchen sink is on. Only step on the right side of the second step down of the back porch stairs. And don’t use the dryer at all. Fixing that outlet’s on your father’s to-do list, but for now he duct taped the door closed so you can’t forget. We’ll see you Christmas Eve day.

Love, Mom.

PS. You can’t use a blow dryer in the bathroom if the light’s on. If you leave the door open, there’s enough light from the hallway to dry your hair.

Great. Three weeks of stiff, air-dried clothes and bad hair. And while they’d been making regular trips down to Boston and crashing in the guest bedroom of her cute, rented condo, her parents’ house was falling down around their ears and they hadn’t said a thing.

It wasn’t a very promising start to her holiday adventure.

* * *

Scott Quinn pulled up in front of the Burke house, half of which was dark, and killed his engine. “This is a fantasy for the ages, Kojak. Chloe Burke. An emergency house call. Maybe I should leave you in the truck.”

The big German Shepherd snorted and pawed at his door, waiting to be let out. He wouldn’t enter a customer’s house without an invitation, but he didn’t sit in the truck like some wussy lap dog, either.

If teenaged Scott had known he’d become an electrical contractor someday, imagining an emergency house call from Chloe Burke definitely would have added to the number of hours he spent locked in the bathroom. She’d been the most frequently recurring guest star of his adolescent mental porn, though she’d been friendlier in his mind—as in she’d at least noticed he was alive.

While they were from the same small town, they’d gone to the big regional school, thrown in with kids from other small towns. There was no shortage of guys hotter than him to keep her distracted.

He hadn’t seen her, even from a distance, in a few years though. Maybe she’d let herself go and he could get through the service call without having to hold his tool bucket in front of him like a math book.

As soon as she opened the front door, he flashed back to a favorite fake memory involving Chloe, who wasn’t really his girlfriend, and the backseat of a convertible Mustang that also wasn’t his.

Ten years later, he was pretty sure she’d still look good kneeling on the seat, facing the trunk with her hands clutching the bunched canvas of the car’s lowered top. She was tall and still as slim as when she’d worn that skimpy cheerleading skirt that made him choke on his tongue, and the blond hair he’d spent many a school day mentally running his fingers through hung straight and thick to the shoulders of her beige sweater.

And her blue eyes, not surprisingly, didn’t reveal a hint of recognition.

“You must be Mr. Quinn.”

“Since we went to school together, you can probably call me Scott.”

She was cute when she frowned. “We did?”

Unlike her, he’d changed since high school. Time at the gym and working for a living had given him some muscle tone. Working for a living had also provided him with the money for a real barber. His mother hadn’t literally used a bowl, but the results still weren’t pretty. And Lasik surgery had rid him of the hated Coke-bottle glasses, so now she could actually see the brown eyes that matched the hair.

“We had three classes together senior year,” he said. “We traveled in different circles, though.”

“Oh. We must have because I definitely wouldn’t have forgotten you.”

Good thing she hadn’t looked at him like that back in high school or he would have spontaneously erupted in his pants. As it was, he shifted his tool bucket a few inches to the left, just in case. “Guess I’ll change that fuse for you before it gets any darker.”

She moved aside, then noticed his shadow. “Does he want to come in too?”

“Only if you don’t mind. He’s my assistant, Kojak.” He tried his best not to lean in to smell Chloe’s sexy perfume as he went by her.

“Come on in, Kojak.” His dog showed no such restraint, giving the pretty lady a few sniffs before strolling into the foyer.

When Scott set the tool bucket next to the basement door, Kojak stretched out beside it and dropped his head onto his front paws. Scott grabbed his flashlight and one of the spare fuses he kept in his truck, along with a telescoping duster, just in case there were cobwebs. He didn’t mind spiders too much, but he hated cobwebs and wasn’t about to walk through a sticky curtain of them.

It took him less than ten minutes to change the fuse and get Chloe’s lights back on, and that included a few minutes to look around the basement. The Burkes’ ancient knob and tube wiring, along with the fuses and too-small service, made him cringe. He liked John and Anna, but John wasn’t getting any younger and their wiring had rounded the corner from obsolete to decrepit and was heading for fire hazard.

“So this is awkward,” Chloe said when he’d climbed the stairs and closed the basement door behind him, “but I use my debit card for everything in the city and I just realized getting cash is one of the things I haven’t crossed off my to-do list yet.”

In the horny, less mature recesses of his mind, the crappy porn music started playing. Chloe would pop the buttons on her jeans. Slowly drag down her zipper while asking him in a pouty voice if there was any other way she could make good on the services rendered.

“No charge,” the mature, if still horny, Scott said. “You’re between where I was and where I was going, and it only took a few minutes. John can spot me a coffee at the Diner someday for the cost of the fuse.”

“I appreciate that.” She leaned against the doorjam and crossed her arms in a way that made it very, very hard not to look at her breasts. “How much would it cost to rewire this place, do you think? And what would the chances be of having done before my parents get back?”

“When are they coming back?”

“Christmas Eve day.”

“It could be done in time. People are paying heating bills and buying Christmas presents in December, not worrying about bad outlets and having ceiling fans installed.” And three weeks with Chloe Burke? That was worth a discount. “I couldn’t give you a price off the cuff, though. I could get you an estimate tomorrow.”

“I’d appreciate it. It’s going to be a lot more than I’d intended to spend on a Christmas gift, but it’s better than lying awake every night wondering if my parents’ house burned down around their ears yet.”

“You don’t get back here much, huh?”

She shrugged—another gesture that made it hard not to look at her breasts. Or maybe he just found it hard not to, period. “My mom loves the city, so they usually come down for a weekend every month. And they both love Christmas there, so…yeah, it’s been a while. If they hadn’t gone on this cruise, I still wouldn’t know what bad shape the house is in.”

“Hopefully I’ll come in at a price you like and we can take care of that for them. Or the electrical part of it, at least.”

They said goodbye and he promised to be in touch with the estimate. Once he and Kojak were in the truck, he turned to the dog and smiled. “I think she likes me.”

His supposed best friend snorted and looked out the passenger window.

* * *

Chloe woke the next morning to her cellphone ringing on the bedside table and she groaned when she saw Mom in the caller ID window. “Hi, Mom. How’s the cruise?”

“Wonderful! I even got your father to dance with me. How come Scott Quinn was at the house last night?”

The grapevine could use some serious weed control. “I blew a fuse.”

“Didn’t you read my note?”

“Not until after I blew the fuse.” She threw back the covers and scrubbed at her face. “It wasn’t a big deal. He changed the fuse and it’s all good.”

“I’ve been after your father for years to fix the wiring. I think he’s afraid of getting zapped.”

“Which is why the world has electricians, Mom.”

“You know your father. He’s more of a do-it-yourself type.”

Chloe wasn’t sure you were a do-it-yourself type if you didn’t actually do it, but she didn’t debate semantics before coffee. “I’ve read your note now, so your fuses should be safe.”

“That Scott Quinn, he’s a good-looking young man, isn’t he?”

Ah, the fix-up. And not just any fix-up, but with a local. She must not have thought that one all the way through because, if Chloe moved back to Maine, where would Mom stay—for free—in Boston? “He’s not bad, I guess.”

If one’s standard of not bad meant so hot she’d tossed and turned half the night, trying not to think about how he turned more than just her lights on. And that was after she wasted over an hour trying to find her yearbooks. The name was still familiar, but she couldn’t match it up mentally with what a teenage Scott would have looked like.

“Has he ever been married?” she heard herself ask before she could throw the brakes on the question.

Her mother pounced on the opening. “Never married. He had a girlfriend for a long time, but she kept nagging him to go live in a city somewhere and he kept saying no, so eventually she went without him. He’s a wicked nice man and he earns a decent living too.”

Good manners and good money. Her parents were so desperate for a grandchild now, that was as high as their standards went for a prospective son-in-law. “I’m only here until Christmas, Mom. I was just curious, that’s all.”

Chloe made her way to the kitchen while her mother went on and on about the cruise. She needed coffee. Desperately.

“We met the nicest people last night and we were standing right there with them, at the all you can eat luau buffet, when their daughter called to tell them they were going to be grandparents. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Sure is.” She tried to sound enthusiastic, even though it was one of the least subtle hints her mom had thrown out there, but it wasn’t easy pre-caffeine. To be on the safe side, she rummaged for the instant coffee and put on the teakettle, rather than risking turning the coffeemaker on and blowing another fuse.

Five minutes later, she almost dropped her freshly made coffee when somebody knocked on the door. As it was, she made a squeaky startled sound and had to dance around not to slosh the hot liquid on her stockinged feet.

“Was that the door?” her mother asked. “Do you have company?”

Chloe could see Scott Quinn through the door’s window, his head bowed as if talking to his dog. “It’s…nobody. A package from a client.”

“But UPS doesn’t get to our area until at least two-thirty. It’s usually closer to four.”

“Special courier, Mom. Big project. Time sensitive.” If she was going to lie, she may as well throw in a reason she couldn’t hang around and chat. “I’ve gotta run.”

When she opened the door, Scott’s smile was a little on the broad side of a polite good morning and Chloe realized that, not only was she in her pajamas still, but she hadn’t been in front of a mirror yet.

“I’ll be right back,” she said as soon as he and Kojak were in out of the cold.

She hit the bathroom first, sparing a few minutes for hair and teeth—though she didn’t take the time for mascara and lipstick—then threw on some clothes. While it was tempting to give him a hard time about stopping by unannounced so early, a glance at the clock told her it was ten o’clock. Practically midday by rural Maine standards.

“Would you like some coffee?” she offered when she made it back to the kitchen. “It’s instant, though, because I’m afraid to turn the coffeemaker on without unplugging everything else in the house.”

“I’m all set, thanks.” She watched him look around the kitchen in the full daylight. “Wow, that microwave’s really…vintage.”

“Pretty sure it’s really fried, too, so they can buy themselves a new one for Christmas.”

With nothing to keep her hands or, more importantly, her eyes busy, she had nothing left to do but look at him. Unlike her mother’s kitchen, Scott Quinn looked just as good in the daylight, especially when he sat in a kitchen chair and leaned his arms on the table. She couldn’t decide whether to watch his T-shirt ripple across his back or the denim stretch across his thighs, so she forced herself to look at Kojak, instead, who plopped at his feet.

“Did you come up with an estimate for the rewiring?” she asked when she was sure her voice wouldn’t be all breathless and inviting.

“It’s not just rewiring. The service needs to be upgraded to a 200-amp panel too.”

She wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded expensive. “What’s the bottom line?”

“Here’s the deal. This house is older than sliced bread, which means I don’t know what I’m going to find when I dig into it. To protect myself in case I find funky construction and places I can’t feed wires, I’d have to bid high. When it comes to old work like this, it’s more fair to me and usually cheaper for you if I do it T&M.”

“T&M?”

“Time and materials. I’d give you an hourly rate and the price of materials as I go.”

She was born at night, but it wasn’t last night. “So you get to rip all the wiring out of the house and then, if I balk at what you’re charging me, my parents get to party like it’s 1853.”

“I can give you a rough ballpark, but I can’t make it a binding agreement.” The amount he quoted was a lot less than she’d anticipated. “Look, this is a small town with a big memory. If I screw people like John and Anna over, how long do you think I’d stay in business?”

Good point. When she was in elementary school there was a little deli across from the gas station. One fateful weekend the owner had refused to honor a sale price on pickle loaf misprinted in the newspaper and he’d gone out of business two months later. “When can you start?”

“I’ve got to install a subpanel for the Rheinhardts tomorrow so Carl doesn’t burn their house down trying to win the neighborhood’s Christmas light grudge match, and I’ve got plans this weekend, but I can start Monday.”

“Since it’s going to be a few days, is there any way you can locate just one safe outlet for me? One that won’t fry my laptop if the doorbell rings?”

“Sure, I can do that. Hey, Kojak, fetch Wiggy.” The dog took off toward his tool bucket and Chloe gave him a questioning look. “I told you he’s my assistant.”

“Wiggy?”

“Oh. That’s my solenoid voltmeter.”

“And you named it Wiggy?”

That seemed to throw him for a second, but then he laughed. “No, that’s what the manufacturer calls them. Do I look like the kind of guy who’d name his tool?”

Though she tried to keep a straight face, amusement tugged at the corners of her mouth. He’d walked right into that one.

“Don’t answer that.”

He took his tester from Kojak and spent a few minutes checking her outlets. “The living room’s good. Any of the outlets in here will be fine. And, just so you know, I’ll be able to do little bits of the house at a time but on Monday, when I change the service over, I’ll have to cut the power for an hour and a half or so. Probably late afternoon, after I get it all ready for the switch.”

“I’ll make sure my laptop’s charged, and the extra battery, too, but I appreciate the warning. I just hope my dad doesn’t hop a helicopter flight off the cruise ship to put a stop to it.”

“Don’t tell them. Let it be a surprise.”

She snorted. “I already heard from my mother this morning, wanting to know why you were here last night. There’s no way I could hide you being here every day for three weeks.”

He gave her a lecherous eyebrow wiggle that made her laugh. “You could tell her we’re having a torrid affair.”

She felt the heat climb into her face and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to hide it. If torrid meant hot and sweaty, she was in. “You’re a funny guy.”

After grabbing his tool bucket and calling Kojak, he turned and gave her a wink. “See you Monday.”

She waved, hoping like hell she could rid herself of thoughts of hot, sweaty sex and Scott before then. Three weeks was a very long time.

Chapter Two

“No way! Chloe freakin’ Burke?”

Scott nodded, his mouth full of hash and cheese omelet. He and Freddy Baker met at the diner almost every morning for breakfast before Scott went to pull wire and Freddy went to open his family’s hardware store.

“Is she still hot? I saw her a few years ago, just from a distance, and she still looked hot.”

Another nod. Damn straight she was still hot. He swallowed and took a swig of coffee. “Even better now, I think. Her face isn’t all covered in makeup and crap, and her hair’s not crunchy from hairspray.”

“No way could she get hotter than high school.”

Scott shrugged and forked another bite of eggs into his mouth. She was definitely hotter than in high school.

“I wouldn’t mind sticking my plug into her socket.”

It was close, but Scott managed not to choke on his omelet. “You’re a bonehead.”

“Just speakin’ your language, dude.”

Unlike Scott, Freddy hadn’t evolved much since high school. He was still overweight, his clothes never fit quite right and grooming wasn’t his strong suit. But they’d been friends since the Bakers moved to town halfway through their sixth grade year—the two of them alone against the world.

Scott had hidden behind the dumpsters, awkwardly patting Freddy’s back while he cried after the eighth grade pantsing episode. Freddy had done the same for him after even the girl nobody talked to turned him down for the Winter Carnival dance. As adults they might have grown into opposites, but Scott would walk barefoot across live wires juggling freshly sharpened jab saws for Freddy. Even when he was being a bonehead.

“The only thing I’ll be getting my hands on is John and Anna’s wiring,” he said when the thought of sticking his plug in Chloe’s socket passed enough for him to speak. “I’m going there to work, not get into her pants.”

“But you want to.”

“Of course I want to.” He wasn’t dead. “But she’s a big city girl and we already know how that works for me.”

“I didn’t say you had to marry her. Just a temporary hook-up.”

So Freddy could live vicariously through his kissing and telling, no doubt. “Getting a little old for the temporary hook-up. And I don’t really have a lot of interest in starting a dead-end relationship.”

Freddy cast a mournful look at his half-eaten stack of blueberry pancakes. “Getting old sucks. Especially when you’re not even thirty yet.”

“Close enough.” Especially since he’d already passed into that looking for a wife and kids phase of his life. He’d come close once but, after four years, Janie had decided she wanted bright lights more than a family, so he was still looking.

But Chloe Burke? If anybody could make him throw relationship maturity out the window and go for the temporary hook-up, it would be her. And not just because he’d spent countless hours wanting just that ten years ago.

Sure, she’d been smoking hot as a teenager. But now, as a grown woman, she was beautiful, with a warm smile and a sense of humor and obviously a heap of generosity when it came to her family.

“Crap, I’m running late and it’s Monday.” Freddy pulled a crumpled ten out of his wallet and downed the rest of his coffee in one big gulp. “Mrs. D’Onorio will have a cow if she can’t get her birdseed at exactly eight o’clock.”

After Freddy was gone, Scott paid for his half of the meal and went out to his truck. After tossing Kojak the plain doughnut the waitress always gave him, he pulled away from the curb and headed toward Chloe’s house.

* * *

In the almost three years Chloe had been working from home, she’d learned discipline equaled steady paychecks. Procrastination, daytime television and distraction equaled Ramen soup for supper again.

But Scott Quinn was one hell of a distraction. He’d spent the bulk of the day either in the basement or outside, but there was no bulkhead entrance, which meant numerous trips through the house. Even though he tried to be quiet, she hadn’t yet managed the discipline not to watch him walk by. Hugging that man’s ass was what jeans had been created for.

It didn’t help that her current web design client was a romance author, so she’d spent the morning inundated with images of glistening pecs and clinching couples. It was all too easy to imagine Scott naked from the waist up, sweeping her into a passionate embrace as he wielded his weapon to keep their enemies at bay.

She snorted, unfortunately just as Scott happened to pass by. He stopped and quirked an eyebrow at her.

“You could pose for the covers of romance novels,” she said, a split second before her brain got the message not to say that out loud.

He looked perplexed for a moment, then he grinned. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind in case this electrical thing doesn’t work out.”

Rather than come up with some way to explain away the most ridiculous thing she’d ever said, she changed the subject. “Your apprentice makes a great foot warmer.”

He looked at Kojak, who’d gotten bored with watching Scott and curled up at Chloe’s feet, and shook his head. “If he bothers you, tell him to find me and he’ll leave you alone.”

She nodded, then watched his ass until he’d gone out the front door. Once he closed it behind him, she face-palmed herself.

Maybe working from her condo, where she lived alone, had put a little dent in her social skills, but when had she become so rusty she couldn’t help but make an ass of herself in front of a guy?

So what if he was a good-looking guy? So what if he was funny and charming and looked at her like he’d like to back her up against the wall and kiss her until her knees wouldn’t hold her up anymore? He was just a guy. A guy she didn’t know very much about, at that.

“You’re a lucky dog, Kojak.” The dog’s ears twitched and he cocked his head sideways. “You know what kind of music he listens to and what kind of movies he likes.”

Since he had her attention, Kojak rolled onto his back, presenting his belly for a scratch. Chloe leaned over and obliged, laughing when his hind leg started twitching. “I bet you get to see him naked a lot.”

When he rolled back to his stomach and gave her a look with his head cocked sideways, she realized just how far she’d sunk.

She was jealous of a dog.

The door opened again and this time, even though it almost killed her, Chloe kept her eyes on her computer screen. Time to stop screwing around and get to work. It was bad enough trying to translate a complete stranger’s desire for something “representative of my personality” into a concrete design theme without being distracted by images of a half-naked Scott waving his weapon around. She’d drink her coffee and keep her mind on the work.

She barely avoided dumping the lukewarm liquid down the front of her shirt when the silence was broken by the loud blare of a Christmas song. Not only a Christmas song, but a cheap, electronic version of a Chipmunk yearning for a hula hoop.

“Sorry,” Scott muttered. He checked the display, then silenced it and hooked it back on his pocket. “I’ll call back later.”

“Nice ringtone.”

“My niece put it on there and I can’t figure out how to change it back. God only knows what I did with the owner’s manual.”

“Technologically outsmarted by the next generation. How old is she?”

He threw a sour look in her direction. “Six.”

“Smart girl.” She did her best not to laugh at him. “Do you want me to fix it for you?”

“No, but thanks. As annoying as it, Bethany loves it. She laughs and claps every time she hears my phone ring. I’ll make her change it after Christmas and then I’ll for damn sure keep my phone out of her reach before Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s very sweet.” So sweet, in fact, she thought maybe her heart fluttered a little, and that wouldn’t do. There were parts of her body she could handle reacting to Scott Quinn. Her heart wasn’t one of them.

“Sweet. Great.” He rolled his eyes at the unmanly adjective. “Just a head’s up, I’ll be cutting the power in a few minutes and it’ll be an hour and a half or maybe two hours before it’s back on. Are you sure you don’t want to leave?”

Since sitting at the diner with her laptop didn’t appeal to her and the library closed early on Mondays, she really didn’t have anywhere else to go. “I’m all set. Battery’s charged. I’ve got a water bottle for when my coffee’s gone and Kojak to keep my feet warm.”

An hour later, she was starting to regret being stubborn. Her feet might be warm, but her hands weren’t. With the well pump off, she could only flush the toilet once, so she was trying desperately not to think about how much water she’d drunk. And every time she thought about being chilly, her thoughts naturally turned to all the ways Scott could warm her up.

Just about the time she’d made up her mind to throw the laptop in her car and head to the diner, her cellphone rang. And, big surprise, it was her mother.

“I hear Scott Quinn’s truck has been spending a lot of time in our driveway,” Anna said when the hellos had been dispensed with.

“Yeah, he’s…” Crap. She wanted the rewiring to be a surprise, not only because it was a Christmas gift, but because there was a good chance her father would jump overboard and swim back to Maine if he thought his do-it-yourself manhood was being questioned. “He’s visiting me, Mom.”

“Oh?” That same oh that had elicited many a confession in Chloe’s youth.

But not today. “Yes, oh. We’re spending a little time with each other. You know, seeing each other…a bit. That’s all.”

“That’s wonderful!” Her mother’s excited undertone triggered the guilt, but it was too late now.

It wasn’t until they’d chatted a few minutes and said their goodbyes, including Chloe promising to give Scott her best, that she realized he was leaning against the doorjam, watching her.

He gave her a slow but somehow very naughty smile. “Only very bad girls lie to their mothers.”

She was in so much trouble.

* * *

Even though he knew she’d only lied to protect her Christmas surprise, hearing Chloe tell her mother they were seeing each other wiped out a frustrating day of changing out a service by himself and put him in the mood for seeing a little more of her.

“Yup, that’s me,” Chloe said, her cheeks burning pink. “Bad girl to the bone.”

He laughed, but cut it short when she wouldn’t meet his gaze. Interesting. “Power’s back on. And the heat.”

“Thank goodness. I was going to head to the diner before the hypothermia set in, but then my mom called.”

“You know what would warm you up?” Besides sex. Sex so hot, sweaty and sticky we’d both be warm for days. “Beef stew.”

“You said you aim to please, but you didn’t tell me you cooked too.”

She didn’t want any part of him cooking, that’s for sure. His own mother had given up on him in the kitchen department. “I don’t, but Monday nights are beef stew night down at the diner.”

Reaching down to scratch the top of Kojak’s head, she finally looked at him. “You mean, like a date?”

Maybe? “Usually I try to show a girl a better time than the beef stew special, but this way we both get warm, we both get fed, and you’re kinda sorta not really lying to your mom.”

While he kept his body language deliberately casual, on the inside he was willing her to say yes. He wanted to sit down with her, away from what was—for him—work, and share a meal with her.

“What about Kojak?”

“He usually stays in the truck and naps.”

“In the winter?”

“He’s a German shepherd, not a poodle. And if the weather’s too nasty, I either leave him home if I know I’m going to be somewhere I can’t take him for a while, or I leave the truck running.”

“Beef stew sounds great. And, like you said, I really shouldn’t lie to my mother.”

They took separate vehicles, at Chloe’s suggestion, but it wasn’t long before he slid into a booth across from her, as far from the coffee counter as they could get. With any luck, they’d get to eat in relative peace and quiet. Especially if Freddy went to his parents’ for spaghetti night like usual.

“So tell me about life in the big city of Boston,” he said when their coffees were poured and orders taken.

“It’s not really that exciting. I’ve got a small condo I picked up on the cheap. Luck, timing and a distressed seller. I spend most of my time there, working, but I get out and about with friends a lot. I didn’t realize until I came home how loud and bright the city is, though.”

He wondered if she was even aware she’d said home. Maybe, even as adults, people often called the houses they grew up in home, but the way she said it piqued his curiosity. “Guess things seem a little slow here.”

“A little. But it’s a nice break from the norm. Hoping to get caught up with some work.”

A break. A temporary break, which was something he needed to remember. By the time John and Anna got home, she’d be bored and restless and ready to hit the southbound fast lane.

“So what do you do for fun around here?” she asked. “Hopefully not the same thing we did back in high school.”

He’d spent his spare time back then at Freddy’s house, playing video games, but he didn’t think that was what she meant. The cool kids, which she’d been, had driven the back roads looking for private spots to drink beer and make out in the backseat of their parents’ cars.

“I watch television. Hit the snowmobile trails. Play catch with my dog.” No sense in sugarcoating it—he was either working or relaxing. Not a lot of in between. “If there’s something good playing at the theater, I’ll tag along with Freddy and his girlfriend.”

“Freddy Baker? He has a girlfriend?”

“Yes, he’s got a girlfriend. Met her at the video store. So how come you remember him and not me?” Not that he was jealous. Much.

“You were quiet. He wasn’t. And we had gym class together.”

Scott had to laugh. “I guess that would be unforgettable.”

“So what about you?” she asked, fiddling with her napkin. “No girlfriend?”

“Not at the moment.” He shrugged. “I’ve dated on and off, but nothing serious for a while. Your mom probably told you I’m single.”

“You know she did, as well as letting me know you’re a nice guy with a good job.”

So Anna was on his side. Not that there really were sides, but it was nice to know she wasn’t totally opposed to the idea of him hooking up with her daughter.

Except she probably wasn’t thinking in terms of a hook-up for her daughter. She wanted to pick out a mother-of-the-bride dress and cry at the wedding, and then rock grandbabies like most of her friends.

“What about you? Nobody serious?”

Chloe shook her head. “Haven’t found the right guy yet, I guess. Was in a relationship for a long time, but it dead-ended. I tried internet dating for a while—and don’t you dare tell my mother that—but I gave up when my last perfect match showed up with his twin brother. Promised to double my pleasure—wink wink, nudge nudge.”

He laughed, but even to his ears it sounded a little forced. “That could be dangerous.”

“I was careful. And it’s a big city, with a lot of single guys in it. Thought it would help to narrow down my choices a little.”

Fortunately the arrival of their beef stew put an end to that conversation. He wasn’t into hearing too much about her dating history. They were quiet while they exchanged the salt and pepper and slathered butter on thick slices of homemade bread, but it was a comfortable silence.

“This is delicious,” she said after she’d had a few bites. “If I hadn’t blown up the microwave, I’d ask her for a dozen orders to freeze for later. Cooking’s not really my thing.”

“Mine, either. Kojak’s pretty happy his food comes ready to eat or I’d probably screw that up too.”

Her laughter was sweet and so infectious he ended up chuckling at his own joke. She laughed a few times as they talked about movies and television and the effect sweat had had on their former gym teacher’s comb-over.

But all too soon the coffee was gone and he’d paid the bill and it was time to go. He held the diner’s door for her, wondering if she’d give him a wave and slide into her car, or if she’d linger. Was she wondering if he’d kiss her? If she was, was she for or against?

When the diner door had closed behind them, she smiled and walked directly to her car before looking back. He guessed that was against. “Thanks for dinner.”

“No problem. So…I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early. Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Chloe.” He waited until she’d backed out of her parking space to climb into his truck. “This job’s going to kill me, Kojak.”

The dog sniffed and rolled over, presenting his stomach for a scratch. That was the nice thing about dogs—no guessing what they wanted. Food, water and a good belly scratch.

Women, though, were a mystery. He’d thought he’d hit the jackpot with Janie, right up until the day she’d packed up everything she could fit in her car and driven away. And now he was getting mixed signals from Chloe. The way she looked at him didn’t jive with her hurry to get in her car.

The only thing he knew for sure was that every day of the next three weeks was going to be torture.

Chapter Three

Chloe sat sideways on the couch, with her back against the arm, her computer on her lap and a very large, snoring German Shepherd keeping her feet warm.

While her romance writing client got input from a few thousand of her closest friends, readers and fellow authors, Chloe had turned her attention to a site redesign she was doing on the cheap for a low-budget Boston non-profit.

Over the past couple of days, she’d managed to ignore Scott’s presence in the house…mostly. It wasn’t easy, but ogling the contractor wouldn’t pay the bills, no matter how enjoyable it was as a way to pass the time.

Sometimes, though, temptation got the better of her self control and her gaze was drawn to him like he was the Death Star and she was the hapless Millennium Falcon caught in his tractor beam.

When he stopped in the kitchen, directly in her line of sight, and yanked up the hem of his T-shirt to mop the sweat off his forehead, she couldn’t have looked away if she wanted to. And she didn’t.

Unless rewiring houses was a lot harder work than she’d thought, Scott spent time working out, because nobody came by abs like that naturally. They rippled as he moved and she swallowed hard as she watched the taut muscles disappear behind the fly of his low-riding jeans.

It wasn’t until the muscles froze that she looked back to his face and caught him watching her watch him. The heat pooling in her body crept up into her face, but she forced herself to smile as if he hadn’t just caught her eyeing him like a jungle cat looking to get animalistic with the first male to wander into her territory.

He, on the other hand, looked like he was more interested in strangling her than doing her jungle cat style. “What the hell do you have the thermostat set at?”

“Seventy-five, I think. When I sit still for long periods, I get cold so I turned the heat up.”

“Well, I’m not sitting still and I’m not cold so your options are to put a sweater on and turn the heat back down or I start stripping.”

Now there was a plan she could get behind. Even better than watching him peel his clothes off, though, would be taking them off of him herself. She’d have to stand on her toes, her body pressed to his, to get his T-shirt free of his arms. Then she’d pop the button of his jeans. Ever so slowly pull the zipper down. Then take her sweet time stripping the denim from his body.

She couldn’t read his mind, but whatever he was thinking erased the annoyance from his expression, leaving a naughty twinkle in its place. “You’re considering it.”

If her face was anywhere near as easy to read as his, there was no sense in denying it. “You can strip if you want to, but I’m not paying extra.”

He laughed and shrugged as if to say it was her loss. And he also dropped the hem of his T-shirt so it covered those abs again. While losing the view was sad, hopefully she’d stop making an ass out of herself now.

“I need to make a couple of phone calls,” he said. “See if any of my usual suspects are free to give me a hand for a couple of hours. I need to feed wires from the panel up to the attic and it’s a lot easier if I have somebody to feed them to.”

“I can catch a wire. If it’s not hooked up, of course.”

He shrugged. “I can get somebody if you’re busy, but if you want to help it’d save you a few bucks. Does your cellphone have a speaker function?”

“Yeah.”

“So does mine, so we’ll use that to communicate. I’ll be in the basement and you’ll be in the attic, but you need to know when the wire’s coming. If you use the speakerphone, you’ll have both hands free to reach in the wall.”

“Wait…what? I have to reach in the wall? You’re the one who said this house is older than sliced bread. What if something’s living in there?”

“Trust me, anything that lives in a wall is more afraid of you than you are of it. Except maybe snakes, but they almost never nest as high as the attic, especially if there’s a basement.”

“Almost never?”

“Almost never.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got a little while before I’m ready, but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay.”

“And turn the thermostat down before I die of heat stroke and your parents have to find a new electrician.”

She didn’t need the thermostat turned up at all if he kept looking at her like he had a few minutes ago, but that she managed not to say out loud.

After nudging the thermostat down to sixty-eight and pulling on a sweater, then letting Kojak out for a quick trip to the bushes, she forced herself to focus on work.

* * *

Scott had finally managed to coax Chloe, over the phone, to put her hand into the wall and fish around for the wire but, a few seconds later her scream made the speaker crackle.

His heart seemed to stop, then it kick-started into overdrive as he pounded up the basement stairs. Had she gotten shocked? The wire wasn’t live, he told himself as he ran across the first floor, and none of the existing wiring in that part of the house should have been live. But what if he’d made a mistake?

He ran up the stairs to the second floor, then down the hall to the access stairs to the attic, cursing big New England farmhouses with every step. When his head finally cleared the opening, he saw her sitting in the corner with her arms wrapped around her knees. Kojak sat next to her, ears at full attention.

She didn’t look hurt. “Are you okay?”

“I touched something furry.” She shuddered. “I tried to tell you I wasn’t hurt, but you didn’t answer.”

“I left my phone. I thought I’d electrocuted you and your parents were going to kill me. I would have had to move.”

She stood and brushed attic dust off the seat of her jeans. “Very funny. It had fur, Scott. Like a giant rat.”

He probably would have laughed at her if he’d recovered enough oxygen from his mad flight up three flights of stairs. And from the fear. Not because John and Anna would have tarred and feathered him or because his insurance company would have put a hit out on him, but because he liked her. He didn’t want to electrocute her.

“Did it bite you?”

“No.”

“Did it move?”

“No.”

“Did it do anything?”

“Yes. It scared the crap out of me.”

Somehow, during the course of the conversation, they’d moved toward each other and now he was close enough to touch her. Or kiss her. Preferably both.

And she knew it too. He could tell by the rise and fall of her chest and the way her tongue flicked over her soft, slightly parted lips.

“It was very scary,” she whispered.

“Maybe I should hold you until the shaking stops.”

She moved toward him. Just a little, but it was an unmistakable invitation. “That might help.”

As soon as he slid his hands around her waist, the pretense ended. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head back, he met her halfway. His mouth touched hers, tentatively at first, and then with an increasing hunger that took him by surprise.

As her fingernails bit into his shoulders, he lifted a hand to cradle the nape of her neck. A quiet moan escaped her as his tongue danced over hers and his body reacted, wanting her. Wanting to hear her moan again.

He kissed her until he reached the critical moment when it was time to end the kiss or try to steal second base. Even if she wanted him as badly as he wanted her, there was nothing romantic about a dusty attic floor.

“Wow,” she said when he’d reluctantly pulled away.

He’d second that. It actually shook him a bit, just how wow it was, but he tried not to let it show. “I don’t know about you, but that made me forget all about furry creatures living in the wall.”

“I think I forgot my own name.”

It might have been a nice ego-stroke if not for the fact he felt the same way. It was a little unnerving, actually, how perfect that kiss had been. It had seriously fried his circuits and the only way he was going to get his mind off rolling around on the attic floor—and screw the dust—was getting back to work.

“Sadly, I don’t get paid to stand around kissing pretty women, so let’s find that wire.” He grabbed his leather work gloves from his back pocket and tugged them on.

“No fair. You’ve got gloves!”

“There’s something furry in that wall.” He winked. “Damn straight I’m not sticking my bare hand in there.”

After the furry creature—which turned out to be nothing but a clump of blown-in insulation—had been removed and he’d fished the end of his first wire out, he handed the gloves off to her and went back downstairs. They had to repeat the process another half-dozen times, though hopefully without the screaming and the heart attack.

The kiss he’d like to repeat, though, at the first opportunity. Maybe when the work was done for the day.

* * *

Chloe packed what seemed like her fiftieth snowball and gave it a toss. Kojak caught it in mid-air, his teeth obliterating the ball and leaving him with nothing but a coating of fluffy snow on his face. She laughed and, when the dog crouched down expectantly, bent to build another snowball.

Even wearing her father’s big parka and her mother’s winter boots she was chilly, but chilly was good. She needed to cool off a little after their steamy encounter in the attic. Not that it was anywhere near as steamy as the imaginary encounters she’d dreamed up during the many hours she should have been sleeping, but it definitely curled her toes.

It didn’t help any that Scott had been just as affected. She’d seen it on his face and felt it against her hip when he held her close. Even though it would put a dent in her ego to have a guy remain unmoved after kissing her, the fact they were both wound up like eight-day clocks made ending up horizontal together almost a foregone conclusion.

She threw another snowball, but it was a bad toss. Kojak missed it and Chloe laughed when it smashed and the dog started sniffing the ground like a bloodhound, looking for it. When he growled, she took pity on him and made another.

“He’ll do that all day if you let him,” Scott said from the front porch.

She took her time packing the snow, letting the air cool her face. Even the sound of his voice had her ramped up, for goodness sake.

“I don’t mind,” she answered, tossing the snowball high into the air. “It’s a good excuse to get off the couch and breathe some fresh air.”

“I guess I’m about done for the day.”

Which meant…what? Were he and Kojak going to hop in his truck and drive away? Would he linger? Kiss her again?

Since Kojak abandoned their game in favor of a good ear-scratching from his owner, Chloe had no reason not to turn and face Scott. “Sorry about the whole screaming thing.”

He smiled, his eyes warmer than a crackling fire. “I’m not.”

She wasn’t really either, but it had been something to say at least. The awkwardness—would he ask her out and would he kiss her or was he even that interested—was like being a teenager again, only nobody had ever kissed her like that in high school.

Scott shoved his hands into his pockets, seemingly reluctant to leave. “Any big plans for tonight?”

“Nope. Probably put the Celtics game on for background noise while I get some work done, then I’ll end up watching it instead of working.” All while imagining all the different ways their attic encounter could have ended. And all the positions it could have ended in.

“How ‘bout I bring over some take-out and watch the game with you? We can…hang out.”

Hang out might be the words that came out of his mouth, but the look in his eyes and the voice in her head rewrote that sentence to we can…have sex. “I’d like that.”

She’d like that a lot. Maybe it wouldn’t be quite as fun if by hang out he actually meant hang out but, even without the guarantee of a non-self-induced orgasm, spending time with him wasn’t something she’d turn down.

“Since we’re not exactly a thriving metropolis,” he said, “by take-out I mean something from the diner in a styrofoam to-go container.”

“I’ll take a cheeseburger, medium-well, with some fries. And a double-thick strawberry shake, if you don’t mind.”

“The game doesn’t start until seven. Is that too late for you to eat?”

“Nope, that’s good.” There was no reason to tell him that’s usually the time she finally remembered to close her laptop and either microwave a frozen meal or call for delivery. There wasn’t too much glamorous about her life in the big city.

He had to walk past her to get to his truck and she found herself holding her breath as he got near. Would he or wouldn’t he?

Much to her dismay, he didn’t. He’d hesitated, as if he was going to kiss her goodbye, but then he kept going. “So I’ll be back in a couple of hours, then.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Dammit, that just sounded desperate. It wasn’t as if she’d spend the two hours pining away for him.

She’d be too busy showering and shaving and shimmying herself into her best underwear. Goodbye kiss or no goodbye kiss, she had plans and they didn’t include basketball.

Chapter Four

Watching Chloe suck double-thick strawberry milkshake through a straw was going to make Scott’s head explode. Or something would. Probably not his head, but something was going to blow and it was going to be messy.

They’d tossed the paper and styrofoam debris from their dinner and were now theoretically watching the Celtics run away with the game, but she was taking her sweet time with the damn milkshake. And every time she closed her lips over the straw and sucked, he got harder. Circulation was starting to be an issue.

During a commercial time-out, she put the milkshake on the coffee table—thank God—and turned on the couch to face him. “I keep forgetting to ask my mom where she put my high school yearbooks. There are a billion boxes in that attic and most of them aren’t marked.”

“Trust me. You don’t want to go there.”

“But why don’t I remember you?”

He sighed. She wasn’t going to let it go and a description was probably more forgiving than a yearbook photo. “Picture me a little shorter and a lot skinnier, with really thick glasses that made me look bug-eyed. And I had a bowl cut, but not a regular bowl. It was more like a really crooked bowl with a wavy rim.”

“Ohmigod!” She actually put her hand to her mouth. “You were that guy?”

Scott braced himself. Hearing one of the many hated nicknames he’d been stuck with in high school come out of Chloe’s mouth was probably going to dampen the mood.

“You picked me a dandelion.”

That was the very last thing he’d expected her to say. “Really? You remember that?”

She’d been sitting alone, on a bench in the shade of the big elm tree, when she should have been in study hall. He’d been on his way back from the ag center, where he’d been sent to deliver mail from the main office, and she’d looked so sad and lonely he’d reached down and plucked a perfect dandelion from the lawn. She’d looked a little confused when he handed it to her, but then she’d smiled and he’d thought for sure he was having a heart attack. He’d managed to smile back, but he kept on walking rather than risk ruining the moment by opening his mouth.

“Of course I remember. You’re the only person who’s ever picked me a dandelion.”

“Chad Watkins used to have Joy’s Flower Shop deliver roses to you at school all the time.”

She rolled her eyes, which was better in his opinion than getting all moony-eyed with nostalgia. “Those weren’t sweet. They were about showing off or apologizing for being a jerk. Why did you run off that day before I could say thank you?”

“The moment was perfect as it was. You smiled and that was enough for me. I wasn’t sticking around long enough for you to laugh at me or ask why the hell I’d given you a weed.”

“I wouldn’t have laughed at you.”

“Not for the flower, but you would have if I’d tried to kiss you and that’s what I really wanted to do.”

He hoped she wouldn’t insult him by claiming now she would have kissed him then. Instead she leaned her body a little more toward him. “What else did you want to do to me?”

As signals went, she was practically standing at the start line waving a giant green flag, but he found himself tongue-tied. What was he supposed to say? He’d wanted to kiss her. Sometimes, when he was alone and he was sure the bathroom door was locked and his mother wouldn’t call his name for a few minutes, he’d imagined touching her breasts, but that was usually as far he got before alone time ended with a bang.

Not that he’d tell her that. “I wanted to do a lot of things to you.”

Before he could figure out how to make his move from telling her what he wanted to do her then to actually doing some of those things to her now, she threw one leg over him so she was kneeling on the couch, straddling his lap. “Like what?”

He ran his hands over her hips and up the sides of her body, stopping just shy of sliding them over to cup her breasts. “You’re killing me.”

She shifted her weight—not a lot, but it caused enough friction to let him know what he stood to lose. “Do you want me to move?”

“God, no.” He buried one hand in her hair and pulled her head forward so he could kiss her.

She wasn’t going anywhere if he could help it.

* * *

Chloe let herself go, drowning in Scott as his fingers tangled in her hair and their breath mingled and the hard length of him pressed between her thighs.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he said against her mouth. His hand skimmed over her stomach until his fingertips brushed the bottom of her breast. “I wanted to know what your hair felt like. I wanted to slide my hands up under that cheerleading sweater you wore and feel your nipples get hard.”

She rocked her hips against his and they both moaned. “Liked my cheer uniform, did you?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He cupped her ass with his hands and pulled her hard against him. “You and me. An empty classroom. You bent over a desk while I pulled that little skirt up and ran my hands over your ass.”

Putting her hands on his chest, she leaned back a little so she could see his face. “So is this just about fulfilling some old teenage fantasy for you?”

“No. This is about you and me, right here and right now.”

“Then let’s stop playing this game. Tell me what you want to do to me now.”

He lifted her sideways, laying her head on the arm of the couch and covering her body with his. “I want to strip you naked and then touch you and taste you until you beg for mercy.”

She slid her hands under his T-shirt and ran them up the warm skin of his back. “Not if I make you beg first.”

“That’s not fair. You’re dealing with skin. I’ve still got multiple layers to get through.”

She hadn’t thought of that when she pulled a cardigan over her long-sleeved cotton shirt. Mostly she’d been chilly and didn’t want to turn the thermostat up on him again. “Giving up already?”

He grinned down at her. “Never. I wish I’d worked through those layers while you were still straddling my lap. Would’ve saved time.”

“Are you in a hurry?” She hoped not because they’d barely started and she was already looking forward to an encore performance.

He didn’t answer, but he settled himself more fully on top of her so one of his knees rested between her legs, his thigh exerting sweet pressure between hers.

His kiss was slow and sweet, letting her know without words he definitely wasn’t in a hurry. He supported his weight on one arm while trying to slide her cardigan off her shoulders with his other hand. Since she was lying down, it wasn’t going to work.

“Maybe we should go to the bedroom,” she suggested. “I can lose some layers along the way.”

“Don’t wanna kill the spontaneity.”

“An hour of you trying to get my sweater off won’t do much for spontaneity, either.”

He nipped at her jaw. “How about you just stand up and get naked real quick right here?”

“One, because this is my mother’s couch. And, two, because your dog’s watching us like we’re his favorite episode of Animal Planet After Dark or something.”

“You’ll have to excuse him. He doesn’t get out much.” But Scott rolled off the couch and offered his hand to help her up. “Kojak, you stay, buddy.”

It felt naughty somehow, taking a boy up to her bedroom in her parents’ house, but it wasn’t as if they were home. And she forgot all about that when Scott kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt off over his head.

“You were supposed to lose layers along the way,” he reminded her.

She felt a little awkward, stripping her clothes off while he did the same, but there was no way in hell she was changing her mind. She’d wanted him since he’d first shown up at her door and she was going to have him.

When she was down to her underwear—and he was still in navy boxer briefs—Scott grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. The smooth warmth of skin against skin inflamed her and she threaded her fingers through his hair as he kissed her again.

He managed to back her to the bed and take her down to the mattress without taking his mouth from hers, and she moaned as he covered her body. Without two layers of denim between them, she could feel just how much he wanted her.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you,” he said as he started kissing and licking his way down her neck.”

“I really doubt you wanted to do this in kindergarten.”

He lifted his head long enough to give her a wry look. “Since I first saw you this time, smartass.”

Then he proceeded to punish her by taking his sweet time exploring her body. Every touch of his tongue and every brush of his fingertips drove her further toward the edge, and she rolled her hips up against his, desperate to feel him inside her.

He ignored her unspoken message and kept right on tasting and touching her until she thought she might really have to beg for mercy. When he tugged the fabric of her bra down, baring her breasts, she moaned and tightened her fingers in his hair.

Sucking first one nipple and then the other, Scott tormented her, keeping her busy while he slowly worked her panties down to her ankles. As she kicked them off, she realized he’d ditched his underwear at some point, too, and then came the crinkle of condom wrapper that signaled very good things to come.

He smiled down at her, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. “You’re a beautiful woman, Chloe Burke.”

She pulled his face down and kissed him, her tongue dancing over his as he settled between her thighs. She gasped as he entered her, then moaned softly against his lips as he slowly filled her.

A shudder rippled across his back and she pressed her fingernails lightly into his skin as he began to move, a slow and steady rhythm—each stroke bringing her a little closer to release.

His breath was hot and ragged against her sweat-dampened neck as he moved and she raised her hips, meeting him stroke for stroke. When he groaned and hooked his arm under one of her knees, his pace quickened and Chloe felt her body tighten.

She closed her eyes as the orgasm hit, arching her back as she squeezed his shoulders, trying not to cry out. Her muscles tightened around him and she felt his body jerk as he followed her over the edge.

A few seconds later, he collapsed on top of her, his breath as quick and harsh as her own. He kissed her mouth, her cheek and then her neck as he dropped his head onto the pillow next to hers.

“That was incredible,” he murmured against her ear.

Yes it was, though she wasn’t sure she had her voice back yet. She ran her fingernails up and down his back, loving the way his muscles twitched under her touch, and closed her eyes.

Minutes passed and Scott slid to one side so he wasn’t crushing her, but she didn’t care. She was warm and happy and so very, very relaxed. He kissed her neck again and she snuggled further into his embrace.

Then Kojak barked. Just once, but it was enough to startle her out of her warm, post-coital stupor. “Is somebody outside?”

“No.” Scott sighed and rolled toward the edge of the bed. “He needs to go out.”

“Have fun with that,” she muttered, feeling around for the blanket and pulling it up around her shoulders.

He slapped her on the ass and she laughed as he rummaged on the floor, presumably looking for his pants. But it wasn’t until he’d gone downstairs and she heard the back door that she realized she had no idea what to do now.

Was he going to come back to bed? He hadn’t said goodbye, but he couldn’t just spend the night, could he? Kojak would need his food, for one thing. And for another…she didn’t have enough experience with this situation to keep from feeling awkward.

Finally, she pulled on her robe and, when she was shoving her feet into her slippers, she noticed he hadn’t just rummaged for his jeans. All of his clothing was gone, so therefore presumably on his body.

He and Kojak were just coming in when she reached the kitchen, and he was brushing snowflakes out of his hair and off his shoulders. “Snowing out there. Just a dusting, though. Kojak and I should head home and let you get some sleep, but we’ll be back at eight tomorrow morning, okay?”

She nodded and turned her face up for his goodnight kiss, laughing when snowflakes fell from his hair to her cheeks. Then she watched them climb into his truck and drive off into the snow before locking up and shutting off the lights.

Her sheets were cool by the time she slipped back into bed, but if she hugged it tight enough, she could still smell Scott on the pillow.

Chapter Five

Scott caught himself whistling an annoyingly happy holiday tune as he walked to his regular morning table at the diner. He forced himself to stop, but not in time to avoid getting caught.

Freddy stared at him as he sat down. “You got laid last night.”

Scott tried to hide his reaction to the declaration by gulping down some of the coffee already waiting for him, but it was hot and burned his tongue. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The conversation paused when their waitress slapped a couple plates of blueberry pancakes down in front of them. Some days the cook made too much batter, trying to use up the blueberries, and the regulars ate them and liked it or they drove twenty minutes to eat somewhere else.

“I’ve known you most of your life, dude,” Freddy said when the waitress was gone and they’d buttered and syruped their pancakes. “You didn’t get enough sleep last night—I can see it on your face—but you’re whistling Christmas jingles. You only whistle when you’re in a really good mood. Two plus two equals you getting laid last night.”

Dredging a forkful of blueberry pancakes through the pooling maple syrup, he just shook his head. He wasn’t much for locker room talk anyway, but for some reason he was even less inclined to talk about his evening with Chloe than usual.

“You gotta tell me something, Scotty. Anything.”

Scott shook his head again and poured a second helping of syrup over his breakfast. He was going to need to sugar to keep him going. “I don’t kiss and tell, Freddy.”

“So you’ve kissed her?”

“Eat your pancakes.”

Freddy waved his fork in the air. “I don’t know what the hell kind of friend you are. We’re not talking about any old girl here. Chloe freakin’ Burke, man.”

Maybe he was touchy from a lack of sleep—though he’d go without sleep to hear Chloe crying out his name anytime—but he was getting tired of Freddy’s obsession with the past. “Her middle name’s not freakin’, you know. High school was a long time ago and you don’t know anything about her now.”

His friend stared at him so hard he was surprised his eyes didn’t cross. “You’re totally smitten with her.”

“Smitten?” Scott laughed. “Didi’s got you watching that historical chick flick stuff again, doesn’t she? Pride and Sensibility or whatever the hell it’s called.”

“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and you, my friend, have got it bad.”

“Not so bad I’ll watch movies with guys running around in wigs and high heels.” But he did have it that bad, not that he’d admit it out loud. If it would get Chloe naked again, he’d watch damn near anything. Even that Pride and Sensibility stuff.

Conversation moved on to the weather, sports—although Scott had no idea whether or not the Celtics won last night—and if the hardware store was ever going to get in their shipment of 14-2 wire so Scott didn’t have to make another hour-long round trip to the big home improvement store. Every couple of minutes he’d look at his watch. Almost time.

Freddy just laughed when it became obvious Scott couldn’t get out of there fast enough and he even paid for breakfast. “I’ve got it. Go!”

He caught himself whistling again as he pulled into the Burkes’ driveway. And as he walked up the front steps. He stopped, though, when he’d given a quick knock before letting himself in. She was waiting for him in the kitchen, that awkward, morning-after look on her face.

“Morning,” he said, watching her bend to give Kojak a hello pat.

“Good morning.” When she kept her attention on the dog, he started getting nervous. She was using Kojak to avoid making eye contact with him. “About last night…”

Uh-oh. In his experience, the about last night talk generally became the let’s pretend it never happened talk. “I enjoyed last night. A lot.”

“So did I. It’s just that I… See, I…” She stopped, her cheeks turning pink.

“You want to pretend it never happened?” Might as well get it over with so he could get to work.

“No! That’s not what I meant. I’m glad it happened, and I wouldn’t mind if it happened again. But…”

Too bad she hadn’t stopped talking after again. Rather than putting words in her mouth again, though, he waited for her to tell him the reason the thing they both wanted to happen again shouldn’t.

“I’m only here until Christmas is over and, to be honest, I’m not sure how that would work out. I have a life there and you have a life and a business here and…I’m just not sure where you thought last night was going. Or if you thought it was going anywhere. Or if you wanted it to.” She was clearly flustered and waved a hand as if to dismiss it all. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

He took hold of her wrist before she could walk away. “Here’s what I’ve thought so far—one, how much I wanted you. And, two, how much I want you again. That’s about as far as I’ve gotten.”

“Okay.”

“I say we don’t worry about whether or not the fact we enjoy each other’s company—a lot—right now is going anywhere and just enjoy each other’s company. Call it a holiday fling. No expectations. No strings.”

“A holiday fling.” She turned so her body was pressed against his. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too. But if you don’t want me finishing your parents’ rewiring just in time for St. Patrick’s Day, you need to keep a little more distance between your body and mine.” He couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth. “Only during the day, though.”

“Am I distracting you?” she asked in a husky voice that was as distracting as her breasts pressed against his chest.

“Honey, if I get any more distracted, I’m not going to be able to walk today.”

She sighed in a regretful way that just turned him on even more. “Okay, but plan on a long lunch break.”

“Meet me in your bedroom at noon.”

“It’s a date.” She gave him a look that almost set his hair on fire and walked away.

Scott looked at his watch. A grueling, endless four hours until lunch. If he made it that long.

* * *

“What about this one?”

Chloe eyed the sweater Scott was holding up with a skeptical eye. “You said your sister was a little overweight. Somehow I doubt she’d appreciate Pepto Bismol-colored horizontal stripes.”

“This sucks.”

She just laughed and shook her head. They were playing hooky together, skipping work to make the drive into New Hampshire for some last minute, tax-free Christmas shopping. While they’d already made two trips to her car to unload her bags, he’d yet to buy a single thing.

She was running out of suggestions. “Why don’t you get her a gift card?”

“We’re not allowed to give gift cards. Ma says it’s not personal enough and Lanie says it’s a cop-out.”

Lanie being his sister, who’d probably appreciate a gift card more than an ugly pink sweater, no matter what she might say. “How about a big gift basket with bath oils and lotions and stuff.”

“I don’t know what she wants to smell like.”

“What does she smell like now?”

He frowned and threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know. She smells like…Lanie.”

She tried not to laugh at his growing frustration, but he was so damn cute trying to find the perfect gifts for his family. He was cute anyway, but seeing the side of him that was son and brother and uncle made her feel a little mushy on the inside.

With their holiday fling half over, feeling mushy on the inside was something she was having to resist more and more often. They worked and they made love, but they also sprawled on her couch and watched movies. They took walks in the snow with Kojak. They argued politics and told bad jokes.

Their compatibility extended beyond the bedroom and that worried her. She’d agreed to a fling and flings didn’t include feelings like the ones she thought she might be starting to feel for him.

“There’s nothing good here.” He was starting to sound downright grumpy.

“Let’s walk across the street to the steakhouse and have lunch.” Maybe some charbroiled protein would boost his spirits. If not, she could at least have a drink. Or two.

“How’s Operation Secret Santa going?” he asked after they’d been seated and ordered too much food.

“So far so good. If they knew the truth, I’m sure I’d have heard from Dad by now.”

It had become obvious after a couple of phone calls from her mother they wouldn’t be able to explain away Scott’s near-constant presence at the Burke house by either a blown fuse or even a torrid affair. So they started with her mother’s best friend, who was the most likely culprit for the dime-dropping, and quietly spread the word Chloe was buying them an electrical upgrade for Christmas and nobody could tell John or Anna. That meant no picking up the phone every time the Quinn Electric truck was seen in the driveway.

Since the only thing more juicy than gossip was keeping secrets, it seemed to be working. Anna was still under the impression her daughter was in a blossoming relationship with Scott Quinn, but at least people had stopped calling her, which meant she’d stopped calling Chloe.

“Speaking of family,” she said. “What have you told your family about me?”

He shrugged. “I told them up I’m upgrading your wiring.”

Since that probably wasn’t a euphemism for having sex, she felt a pang of disappointment. “Oh.”

Something about her tone must have caught his attention because his expression turned wary. “I thought it would be easiest that way.”

“So they haven’t heard any of the gossip about us being a couple?”

“They did. But I explained to them we were trying to keep the rewiring a secret and that was the reason you gave your mom.”

So he’d made it very clear to the people who mattered most to him he wasn’t sleeping with her. Despite her constant—and apparently futile—attempts to keep her emotions out of their relationship, that hurt.

“Look,” he said, “my family’s been after me to settle down for a while. If they knew we’re…having a fling, they’d be all up in our business. Hell, they’d probably start sliding bridal magazines under your door and that’s not what we’re doing here.”

No, it wasn’t. And she’d do well to remember that. “No sense in getting their hopes up.”

When their meals were delivered, she deliberately steered the conversation back to Christmas shopping. Even though shopping with Scott had stopped being fun about six stores ago, it was better than thinking about their relationship. Or non-relationship, as it was supposed to be.

Reining in her emotions and focusing on enjoying the physical aspect of their arrangement while it lasted was the only way she was going to survive walking away with her heart intact.

Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

* * *

When Scott almost obliterated his thumbnail for the third time, he swore under his breath and dropped the hammer. Pounding in wire staples wasn’t rocket science, but he couldn’t even manage that today.

He’d hurt Chloe’s feelings a few days before—he’d seen it on her face—and, even after dwelling on it since then, he had no idea what to do about it. The change was subtle because she was doing her best to hide it, but he could see it when she thought he wasn’t watching her.

The only conclusion he could come to was that hearing he’d lied to his family about their relationship had bothered her and that didn’t make any sense. He’d like nothing more than to take her home for dinner—to reintroduce her to his parents and his sister. He’d love to watch her sitting on the floor, playing dolls with Bethany.

But that was a level of pretending he couldn’t handle. His family would be thrilled he’d finally found a woman he really liked, but justifiably apprehensive because she had a life in Boston. He’d tried holding on to a woman not cut out for small town life once and had his heart broken.

He was skating on thin ice as it was when it came to remembering he and Chloe were supposed to be having carefree sex. A temporary holiday fling, with no strings attached. That was a hard thing to remember when she was tucked under his arm, laughing at an old sit-com with him. Even Kojak sulked when it was time to go home without her every night. He didn’t need to take his family along for the rollercoaster ride.

“Everything going okay?”

He turned, surprised to see Chloe halfway down the basement stairs. He hadn’t even heard her open the door at the top. “More or less.”

“I was poking around in the fridge and I could hear you through the heating vent. Sounded like a lot of bad words for a more or less.”

“I hit my thumb with the hammer. Again.”

“And I just accidentally wiped out half a day’s work. We’re a matched set today.”

“Let’s go for a ride,” he said.

“A ride to where?” She sat on a step and crossed her arms. “I’m not doing any more Christmas shopping with you. I swear you morph into some kind of cranky old man when you cross the threshhold of a store.”

“No, a ride on my sled.”

She laughed. “Snowmobiling? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“I’m ahead of schedule, so a few hours won’t hurt. Come on. We can drop Kojak off at my house and you can borrow my sister’s gear. They don’t have a garage and my parents’ is full, so they leave their sleds and all their crap in mine.” It looked like she was caving, so he pressed on. “There’s a spot out in the woods I want to show you.”

“If you think I’m having sex with you out in the woods, Scott Quinn, you’re crazy. It’s thirty-eight degrees.”

As tempting as that idea was, he had no intention of exposing any more of his anatomy to the elements than he had to. “Just a ride. On the sled, I mean. Promise.”

Twenty minutes later, he was unlocking the front door of his house, thankful he’d outgrown his slob days. It was a small, two-bedroom cape, with a farmer’s porch and a home gym in the semi-finished basement. Nothing fancy, but it wasn’t too shabby, either.

“Make yourself at home,” he told Chloe. “I’m going to take Kojak out back for a few minutes and call my folks. They have a fit if I don’t file a flight plan with them.”

She laughed, but he could see she was more interested in checking out his house than in what he was saying. There wasn’t much to see. Some family pictures on the wall. A bookshelf full of mysteries and thrillers, with the occasional horror novel wedged in between. His computer desk sat in one corner, the paperwork he loathed precariously close to avalanche stage. A kick-ass home theatre system rounding out the decor.

“I remember Lanie a little,” she said, peering at one of the framed photos on the wall. “She was ahead of us in school, though, right?”

“By three years. She ran with a more popular crowd that I did, though. And, because she was a girl, she could let her hair grow long rather than risk Ma hacking at with her scissors.”

She’d already moved on to the next photo, so he gestured to Kojak and walked through the kitchen to the back door, trying to tell himself it didn’t matter what she thought of his house.

It was a temporary holiday fling. Then she’d go back to Boston and he’d go back to the way things were before she came. A little lonely and a little boring at times, but overall he’d been happy. And once she’d left, with a little time and distance, he was sure he could be happy again. Pretty sure, anyway.

Chapter Six

Chloe had forgotten how much she loved the sensation of flying over the snow, the wind tugging at her jacket and the speed making her shiver just a little. Her father had taken her riding with him often when she was little, but they’d hit a rough spot and had to sell the snowmobile. For some reason he’d never gotten around to buying another.

Bundled in Lanie’s gear and plastered against Scott’s back because his machine wasn’t really built for two people, she wasn’t cold so, as long as she held onto him and didn’t get thrown off the back, she was free to enjoy the ride.

Occasionally, when they hit a nice smooth patch, Scott would let go with his left hand and let it rest on her knee instead. It was a casual gesture—the kind of thing a boyfriend would do—and that increasingly hard to ignore part of her that wished that were the truth reveled in it.

“Are you warm enough?” he yelled over his shoulder.

“Yes!” Between the helmets and the wind and the engine, that was about as far as conversation could go.

She’d been surprised by his home. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected—maybe something more bachelor pad-like—but his house was cute and very neat. Maybe a little austere in the decorating department, but she liked a man who cherished family photos the way he obviously did.

When Scott turned off the main snowmobile trail onto what was essentially the snowmobiling equivalent of a cow path, she swallowed hard and held on tighter. The narrow, barely packed down trail wound tightly through the trees and she could tell by the sound of the engine they were climbing in elevation.

He finally stopped in a clearing barely big enough to turn the machine around and hit the kill switch. She looked around while they disentangled themselves from the sled and took off their helmets, but she couldn’t see what made the place worth going off the main trail for.

“This way,” he said, taking her hand to steady her in the snow. It wasn’t deep yet, but it was uneven and slushy from being filtered through the trees.

She could tell somebody had walked there since the last snowfall, but it obviously wasn’t a well-traveled path. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

When he cautioned her to step over a root she couldn’t even see because it was covered with snow, she realized he came here a lot and probably not just during sled season.

When they broke through the tree line, Chloe stopped, unable to believe the view. She could see almost all of her hometown, spread out below her. They weren’t very high up, but it was just enough to see over the surrounding woods. She could just make out the roof of her parents’ house, but it took her a few seconds to find Scott’s, tucked into the trees a little ways east.

“You can’t see as much in the summer,” he said, “when the trees are full, but right now you can see almost everything.”

Everything that mattered to him, anyway. She could hear it in his voice and see it on his face when she looked up at him. He loved this town she couldn’t wait to be free of when she’d went off to college, and it would probably never occur to him to live somewhere else. Not that she’d thought about what it would be like if he’d move to Boston…much.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, because it was obvious he expected her to say something.

And it was. With a blanket of snow and smoke puffing from many of the chimneys, it almost looked like a Christmas postcard.

It was a far cry from her crowded, noisy Boston neighborhood, and it couldn’t have illustrated any better the differences between them. Scott belonged here, in a place where everybody not only knew your name, but knew what you did in the second grade to get you called into the principal’s office.

She thrived on the city life. Anonymity. Museums and theatres and the ability to fulfill a craving for almost any cuisine at almost any hour. Forget the Monday night beef stew special. Not only could she have crab rangoon at three in the morning, but she could have it delivered.

“How come I’ve never been up here?” She’d lived there the first nineteen years of her life, but she’d never seen the town from that angle.

“This land was all owned by some guy from Connecticut for decades and he had it posted against trespassing. When his son inherited, he opened it for hikers in the summer and sledders in the winter. It took us—the snowmobile club, I mean—almost two years to fully develop the trail, but it connects two existing trails and really opened it up for us.”

He not only lived there, but he was invested in the place. In the people and in the town and even in the land. She’d never felt that bond with her home town. Instead she’d spent her teen years biding her time, waiting until she was old enough to leave it behind.

“I’m boring you,” he said, nudging her with his elbow.

“No. I think it’s great you were able to make a trail up here. It would be a shame not to be able to see this view.”

“So what now? You wanna keep going or are you ready to head back?”

There was a part of her enjoying the ride so much she wanted to keep going. But there was another part that felt herself getting sucked into his life—a life she didn’t belong in. She was just visiting.

Their relationship was supposed to be just about the sex. Nothing else. “Actually, I was thinking since we have to go back to your house anyway, maybe we could twist up your bedsheets for a change.”

He grinned and raised an eyebrow at her. “I think that’s one hell of an idea.”

They made it back to the snowmobile a lot faster than they’d make it to the look-out and he took off so fast she was surprised he didn’t blow the engine. They were definitely on the same page when it came to sex.

* * *

By the time they finally got the sled pulled into the garage, Scott was as revved up as his engine had been on the ride home and, as far as he was concerned, they couldn’t get naked fast enough.

House first, though, because the garage wasn’t heated and he wasn’t about to streak to his front door. He took her by the hand and led her across the yard as quickly as he could without making her jog, then slammed the door behind them. And she laughed when he divested himself of his snowmobiling gear in seconds and started helping her out of hers.

There was a brief loss of momentum when Kojak pushed his way in between them, nuzzling for a hello scratch. Scott tried to get away with a quick head rub, but the dog jumped up and put his paws on his shoulders, knocking Chloe a step backwards in the process.

“Okay, Kojak.” He gave the dog a good tousling, then pushed him down. Content with that, the dog went back to his oversized flannel bed, turned around a couple of times and flopped down. “Stay.”

Taking Chloe’s hand again, he led her to his bedroom—thank God he’d just changed the sheets—and resumed divesting them of their clothes. She helped, he grabbed a condom from his dresser, and within minutes he had her naked on his bed.

“Who decorated your room?” she asked, holding him off with one hand.

“I did.”

“It’s nice.”

“Whatever.” It was a bedroom. With some beige stuff and some blue stuff. Whatever had looked like it wouldn’t give him a headache. “I’d give you the grand tour, but I’m a little busy right now. Kinda hoping you’ll be busy too.”

She laughed and pushed him onto his back. “It’s not going to kill you to wait two minutes.”

“It might.” Every second he wasn’t touching her killed him a little bit more. “And speaking of two minutes, that might be all you’ve got left. Riding back, thinking about you naked in my bed, with the sled vibrating between my legs…let’s just say I’m ready.”

She straddled him and he tried to think about baseball and algebra and the rising cost of wire, but nothing helped. “Does that mean I’m not getting any foreplay?”

“Can we do it after the sex part?”

“I don’t think it’s foreplay after.”

Just when he thought he was going to embarrass himself with a premature display of just how much he was dying for her, she sat back on his thighs so he could roll on the condom.

And then, finally, she lowered herself onto his length. The friction was so exquisite he had to clench his fists to keep from grabbing her hips and pounding into her.

When she began riding him, lifting herself just high enough so he almost slid free before swallowing him in her warmth again, he reached up and cupped her breasts. He circled her nipples with his thumbs, wishing he could kiss her, but not wanting to stop her from what she was doing.

Her pace quickened and, when she threw back her head, he did grab her hips. He pushed her up, then pulled her down hard as he thrust his hips up to meet hers. She cried his name and, as her muscles tightened around him, he gave up any pretense of self-control and let himself go.

When she collapsed, panting, on top of him, Scott pushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. He couldn’t get enough of her. Unfortunately, thinking that led to thoughts of the near future, when he wouldn’t have her any more.

That wasn’t something he wanted to think about, so he forced himself to focus on the here and now. Chloe, naked in his arms. Her breath tickling his neck. Her heart beating next to his.

“That was fun,” she whispered.

“If you think that was fun, gimme five minutes.” He smiled and rolled her onto her back. “I owe you some foreplay.”

* * *

Chloe stepped back from the Christmas tree to examine her handiwork. “What do you think, Kojak?”

The dog barked once, then sat at her feet and stared at the tree as though expecting it to light up. His tail thumped the floor in a steady rhythm.

She laughed and scratched behind his ear. “I can’t plug it in yet. Not until he’s done for the day.”

“I’m done,” Scott said from behind them and she and the dog both jumped a foot. “I was working on the dining room, so you could have plugged it in.”

“Even if it wouldn’t have zapped you, we’d wait. You lugged most of the stuff out of the attic and trudged through the woods to find me a tree. The least we could do is let you be here for first lighting.”

She hadn’t even given a thought to the decorations until her mother mentioned them during their last phone call. In order to ease her mother’s mind about being gone practically the entire month of December, she’d promised to deck the halls in her absence. The orgasms must have distracted her.

But now the wreaths were on the door and the electric candles were on the windowsills. Every room downstairs had a theme, and it had taken her the better part of the day to set out the Christmas trains and angels and Santas and nutcrackers.

“I’m here now, so plug it in.”

She turned the overhead light off first, so when she plugged in the string of lights, the room was filled with the warm glow of primary colors. Scott had chosen a gorgeous tree and the decorations the family had collected over the decades filled it out perfectly.

When Kojak started nuzzling at one of the gifts under the tree—again—she shooed him away. “Not yet.”

“Those aren’t cookies, are they? Because he can get pretty mean if people don’t share their cookies.”

“No cookies. It’s a B-O-N-E and I think he can smell it.”

“Good thing you spelled it out, just in case he can’t.” He laughed when she swatted at his arm. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later he set a big, brightly-wrapped box under the Christmas tree. “That’s for you. From…us.”

He’d bought her a Christmas present. Considering she knew just how much he hated shopping, it gave her a serious case of the warm and fuzzies. Luckily, one of the two gifts under the tree was for him.

“Open it,” he said, handing the box to her.

“Right now?”

“Sure. It’s Christmas Eve Eve.”

“There’s no such thing as Christmas Eve Eve.”

“Sure there is. And, because the incredibly hot woman who lives here keeps dragging me away from work to have her way with me, I need to bust my ass for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll probably have to do a couple of hours in the morning, too, to finish up. But I’ll be gone before your parents get home.”

She didn’t want to think about him being gone. “I haven’t heard any complaints about me having my way with you.”

“That’s because you’re not around when I’m doing my timesheets, trying to remember when I was working and when I was being ravaged so I don’t have to put Master Electrician and Male Gigolo on my IRS forms this year.”

“Ravaged?” She laughed when he nodded. “Very funny.”

“Open it!”

“Okay. Give Kojak his first.” When the dog finally took off for the kitchen, triumphantly waving his beef-flavored chew bone in the air, she handed Scott the other gift. “This one’s for you.”

He grinned like a boy and tore the ribbons and paper off with the same kind of enthusiasm. Inside the box was a set of magnetic signs bearing the Quinn Electric logo. “Wow. These are awesome.”

“I noticed the ones on your truck are fading and you seem to be missing one. And, no offense, but whoever designed them missed the point of being able to read them from a distance. You can barely read the phone number, even if somebody was behind you at a red light. And…” She stopped, blushing. “Sorry, it’s a design thing.”

“They’re perfect,” he said. He kissed her, a quick brushing of his lips against hers, and then he tapped her box. “Open yours now.”

He’d given her the thickest, softest flannel pajamas she’d ever seen, in a rich cornflower blue. And, stitched over the left breast pocket, was a little embroidered dandelion.

“You’re always cold,” he said. “When I saw those, I thought of you, and the blue reminded me of your eyes. A friend of Freddy’s stitched the dandelion on for me.”

It was a perfect gift, she mused, running her thumb over the little yellow and green stitches. Thoughtful and personal, from a guy who obviously knew her better than she’d though. And maybe better than he’d intended to. “I love them. Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve.” He cupped her face and kissed her very thoroughly for a couple of minutes. “What do you say I help you try those pajamas on?”

“I don’t know. I’d hate to screw up your taxes.”

He laughed and pulled her onto his lap. “Let’s call this a Christmas bonus. Off the books.”

Chapter Seven

“I guess that’s it.”

Chloe’s stomach tightened as Scott’s words sank in. The rewiring was done, which was good. But that was it for their holiday fling too. He’d go have Christmas with his family and she’d have Christmas with hers before heading back to Boston. Time to go their separate ways.

She’d known it was coming. He’d said he’d finish up the last of the wiring today—hopefully before her parents got home—and she’d felt the goodbye in their lovemaking last night.

But, like all good things, a fling had to end, so she kept her voice deliberately light. “I don’t know if my parents will be thrilled or not, but I’ll sleep better knowing their house won’t burn down if Dad tries to make toast while Mom’s watching TV.”

Since he’d known how many hours it would take to finish up and given her the amount, she’d already written the final check. She handed it to him and watched him fold it and slip it into his back pocket.

“So…” He hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “I guess I’ll carry my tool bucket out to the truck and then get out of your way before John and Anna come home.”

She wanted to call him back, but she didn’t know what to say. She could ask him to hold her one more time—maybe make a joke about one for the road—but that would only make it harder. And her parents were on their way home.

The tears threatened when Kojak, who knew Scott picking up his tools was usually followed by a trip home to his kibble bowl, ran to her for his goodbye belly rub.

“You’re a good dog, Kojak,” she told him and he didn’t seem to mind that her voice cracked a little. He even licked away the stray tear she didn’t blink back in time.

“Are you okay?”

She forced herself to let go of Kojak and smile. “I’m really going to miss this guy. Guess you won’t let me keep him, though.”

“Sorry, we’re a package deal.”

It hung there in the air for a few long, awkward seconds…seconds of is he serious and yes, I want the whole package but…and then the moment was gone.

“Next time you’re up to see your parents, give me a call. Maybe we can have dinner or something.”

She nodded, focusing all her willpower on not crying. “Make sure you look me up if you’re ever in Boston.”

“I will. So…” He shrugged and snapped his fingers for Kojak. “I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

She could only nod again because her throat was so tight she wasn’t sure she could speak. He started toward the door, then turned back. Maybe he was going to kiss her goodbye after all, she thought. And she desperately wanted that, but was afraid if he touched her right now, she wouldn’t let him go.

“Goodbye, Chloe.”

She managed to wait until she couldn’t hear his truck anymore. Then she walked slowly up her bedroom stairs, like a woman climbing the gallows, and threw herself onto her bed for a good cry.

Or what should have been a good cry. Fifteen minutes later her cellphone rang and her stomach twisted into a knot when she saw the name on the screen. “Hi, Mom.”

“Chloe?”

“Yes, it’s me. As far as I know I’m the only person who calls you mom.”

“Are you sick? You sound terrible.”

No, her heart was broken. “I was watching Steel Magnolias.”

“I don’t know why you watch that movie. It always makes you cry. I’m afraid I have some bad news, honey. We made it into Logan airport, but everything’s shut down because of the storm. We’ve tried everything, but we can’t get home unless we rent a car and drive.”

“No, you can’t drive.” The last thing she wanted was her parents being the lead story on the eleven o’clock news. “I think they’re closing the highway, anyway.”

She could hear her mom sniffling on the other end of the line and hoped she didn’t go for a full sob. Chloe was on the ragged edge as it was.

“You have your key to my condo, right?” she asked before they both started crying.

“Yes. We’ll just stay there until we can get home. If the flights into Portland are a nightmare, we might rent a car.”

“Wait until they’ve got the roads cleaned up, Mom. I’ll miss you, but I’d rather have Christmas a couple days late than get a phone call from the State Police.”

They talked for a few more minutes and then she talked to her dad, but eventually she had to let them go so they could go out into the storm and settle in at the condo.

The lonely hours stretched out in front of her. No parents. No Scott. No Kojak to keep her feet warm. Just her and cheery holiday movies on the television she wasn’t sure she had the heart to watch.

It definitely wasn’t going to be one of the better Christmases of her life.

* * *

Scott missed Chloe.

Even sitting at the dining room table with his parents, his sister and her husband and little Bethany, he felt alone. Sure, it was his family, but when they all went home, he’d go alone. And he’d wake up alone the next day. Except for Kojak, of course.

He could always spend the night at his parents’ and spend Christmas morning with them, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to wake up beside his wife and listen for the pitter-patter of little feet sneaking down the stairs to see what Santa left under the tree.

After three weeks, it seemed crazy to think Chloe might be the woman he wanted to wake up to, but hers was the face he saw when he let himself imagine it.

And it had hurt like hell to walk out of her house and not look back. He’d wanted to kiss her, just one last time, but he knew if he’d gotten that close to her, he wouldn’t have been able to walk away. He would have made a fool out of himself, confessing to all sorts of feelings she hadn’t signed up for. And, once again, rather than risk her rejection, he’d kept on walking.

“Too bad about the Burkes, huh?” his mother said.

Scott’s head snapped around so fast his neck cracked and Kojak leapt to his feet next to his chair. “What about the Burkes? What happened?”

“I heard the storm shut everything down, so they’re snowed in at Logan. Even the buses aren’t running. It’s ironic, really. After all this time, Chloe finally came home for Christmas and they’ll be stuck at her condo in Boston without her.”

At least they were okay, but Chloe would be alone for Christmas and that wasn’t right. So maybe their fling was over. They were still friends and a friend wouldn’t let another friend be alone on Christmas Day.

An hour later, after Scott and Lanie had washed and dried the dishes just because they were the “kids”, the family gathered around the Christmas tree to exchange gifts. Most of them were for Bethany, of course, but each of the adults had a couple too.

Watching Lanie and his mom, as well as the two guys, open gifts Chloe had helped him pick out made his stomach hurt. He’d been such a grump that day. He hated shopping, but she’d patiently dragged him to store after store until everybody was crossed off his list.

“Uncle Scott, open these, please!”

Bethany dumped her pile of gifts in his lap. After watching Lanie struggle with those gray twisty wires used by the dozen to hold toys in packaging, he’d started bringing his small wire snips to Christmas Eve dinner. Now it was officially his job.

Once his niece’s gifts had been liberated and the wrapping paper cleared away, his father snuck out to the garage for his after-dinner cigar and, because dressing dolls wasn’t one of his finer skills, Scott escaped with him. He didn’t smoke, but he popped open a beer and took a seat on the riding mower.

“Good dinner,” his dad said, rubbing his hand over his stomach.

“Yup.”

“What’s going on with you, son? Your mother says you’re too quiet so something must be bothering you because you usually never shut up.”

Might as well spill the beans. Since he obviously wasn’t as decent an actor as he’d thought, they’d keep after him, trying to find out what was wrong. And, since it was after the fact, it’s not like they’d go getting their hopes up.

“I wasn’t totally honest with you and Ma about Chloe Burke,” he confessed.

“We figured that out about two weeks ago.”

“Oh.” So much for keeping secrets. “The thing is, it was just supposed to be a fling, you know? A little fun between consenting adults and then we’d go our separate ways.”

“But you fell for her.”

“Hard.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“No.”

“I’m pretty sure if Chloe Burke was one of those psychic people, your mother would have heard about it by now.”

“She lives in Boston and she likes it there. And I…I don’t want to move to Boston, Dad. Maybe I’d make more money, but I work for myself here and, because I set a fair price for people, work’s steady. And this is home. I’d go nuts in a city like that.”

“Doesn’t she work on that internet stuff? Maybe you should ask her if she’d consider moving back. You don’t know if you don’t ask.”

“It’s only been three weeks.”

“Sometimes you just know, son.”

The words echoed through his mind hours later when he was stretched out on his back, alone in the middle of his king-sized bed, with his hands tucked under his head.

What was the worst that could happen if he knocked on her door, wished her a Merry Christmas and asked her to stick around? Maybe she’d tell him she was just in it for the sex and thanks, but no thanks. And if he didn’t knock on her door? Would the time they’d spent together become nothing more than a fond memory of a hot winter romance?

Or would he spend the rest of his life hating himself for letting her walk away without at least putting up a fight?

* * *

Seven o’clock was way too early to get out of bed on what was undoubtedly going to be a crappy day, but Chloe was up anyway, slamming the carafe into the coffeemaker and jabbing the on button. She leaned against the counter, hugging her warm flannel pajamas to herself, and watched it drip.

It was Scott’s fault. Showing up every day at eight had trained her to be awake by seven, ready to shower and brush her teeth and meet him with a smile. He wasn’t coming today—he wasn’t coming back at all—but she couldn’t force herself back to sleep. Her mother never called before ten because Chloe sometimes kept late hours, so she had at least three hours to kill. Alone.

And she was alone because of a measly hundred miles. Because his life was in Maine and hers was in Boston and somehow that had become an insurmountable obstacle.

She knew in her gut they had more than a holiday fling going on. While she couldn’t say how much, she knew he cared for her. Maybe even enough to pack up and move to Boston. But he’d be unhappy there and she knew it. And so would Kojak.

That left her moving back to Maine, assuming Scott was as interested as she thought he might be. It wouldn’t really affect her work, as long as she could get high-speed internet. And she wouldn’t have to sell the condo, at least not right away. Her parents could use it. She and Scott could spend some weekends there.

So maybe she couldn’t get crab rangoon delivered to her front door at three in the morning, but the Monday night beef stew special was good.

Before she could change her mind or talk herself out of taking the chance, she flipped open her phone and dialed Scott’s number. It rang, but along with the standard ring she heard over the line she could make out the cheesy Christmas melody Bethany had programmed on his end.

Weird. She followed the sound to the front door and saw Scott on the other side of the glass, staring at the display on his phone. Then he looked up and saw her.

He’d come back. That had to mean something, though she tried hard not to let hope run away with her emotions. Her pulse quickened as his gaze held hers through the window, his eyes serious despite the smile he gave her.

She closed her phone and dropped it on the side table, then pulled open the door. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Chloe,” he told her as Kojak squeezed past them. “I was working up the courage to knock.”

“I don’t look that bad in the morning.”

“It’s pretty early. I wasn’t sure you’d be up.”

The frigid morning air wafted over her face and froze her ankles, so she pulled him inside and closed the door. “I made coffee. It should be done by now if you want a cup.”

“Well, first I, uh…I brought you something.” He pulled a small, square package wrapped in Christmas paper from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “It’s…umm…maybe you should just open it.”

She sliced through the paper with her fingernail and peeled it away from the plain white box. When she lifted the lid and unfolded the tissue paper, her breath caught in her chest.

It was a key. Shiny, with well-defined edges, so it was either cut recently or was seldom used.

“It’s a key to my house.” Scott’s voice was a bit tight, as if from nerves, and Kojak made a questioning sound and thumped his tail. “I know we were just supposed to have a holiday fling and I tried but…I think I fell in love with you.”

Chloe’s heart was pounding so quickly she was surprised she didn’t pass out. “You think?”

“I’m pretty sure, actually. I don’t want to let you go, Chloe.”

“I…wow.”

“I know. I wasn’t supposed to. But I think, if you give us a chance, it might be the real thing. I know the distance is an issue, but somehow we can make it work.”

“I was calling you because, even though I said it was only a holiday fling, I think I fell in love with you, too, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least tell you.”

“You think you did, huh?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“I think I’d like to kiss you right now. Pretty damn sure I would, actually.”

He didn’t need to tell her twice. She moved into his embrace, sliding her hands under his jacket so she could wrap her arms around his waist. He hugged her shoulders with one arm while cradling the back of her neck with the other, then lowered his mouth to hers.

It was a sweet kiss—filled with the promise of a new future together—and she sighed in contentment against his mouth, wishing it could go on forever.

Kojak, however, had a different idea and kept headbutting her hip until she reluctantly pulled away from Scott. “Yes, Kojak. Merry Christmas.”

As she scratched the dog’s belly, Scott peeled off his coat. And then the flannel shirt he wore unbuttoned over his T-shirt. “You turned the thermostat up again, didn’t you? I swear, I’m going to have to build an addition to be your office so it can be on its own heating zone.”

“Or you could just strip for me. Often.”

When Kojak was content with his greeting and wandered off toward the couch, Scott pulled her back into his arms. “Can you be happy here, Chloe? I know it’s not an exciting place, but—”

She kissed him to shut him up. “I’m already happy here. I’m happy with you.”

“And kids?”

“When the time is right, yeah.”

“A few?”

She laughed and tried to push him away, but he didn’t let her go. “A couple.”

“Several?”

“We’ll see.”

“You know,” he said, dropping his voice down into that sexy bedroom range that made her knees weak, “these are some very sexy pajamas you’re wearing.”

“Mmm…and now that Santa’s delivered all his presents, we’re free to be naughty.”

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her toward the stairs. “I’ve got all the present I need, right here.”

“This is the best Christmas ever,” she whispered against his cheek.

“Like I told you before, I aim to please.” He paused halfway up the stairs to kiss her again. “Merry Christmas, Chloe. And welcome home.”

About the Author

Shannon Stacey married her Prince Charming in 1993 and is the proud mother of two incredible sons. She lives in New England, where her two favorite activities are trying to stay warm and writing stories of happily ever after. And while her two cats refuse to curl up on her lap and keep it warm while she writes, her Shih Tzu is never far away.

You can contact Shannon through her website, http://shannonstacey.com, where she has maintained an almost daily blog since 2005. You can also visit her on Twitter at http://twitter.com/shannonstacey or at her Facebook page, http://facebook.com/shannonstacey.authorpage, or email her at shannon@shannonstacey.com.

All She Wants For Christmas

By Jaci Burton

Big Star, Small-Town Christmas

Country singer Riley Jensen would never have returned to her small Missouri hometown if her publicist hadn’t come up with the scheme to tape a Christmas special there. So she never would have known that the man who broke her heart at eighteen—causing her to flee to Nashville—was now a widower with a seven-year-old daughter. Riley has ten years of angst-filled hit songs and Grammy awards to prove she doesn’t need Ethan Kent. But suddenly, she can’t help thinking of all she gave up by running away…

Ethan Kent knew Riley had the talent and the drive to make it as a singer. He also knew she wasn’t going anywhere if she stayed in their nowhere town for him. Then one night and one huge mistake sent her running on the road to fame. Which doesn’t mean he ever stopped loving her…

But with so much separating them, can Riley and Ethan find their way back together one magical country Christmas?

Acknowledgements

To Angela James, a wonderful editor who understands me and knows how to push me to be better. Thanks, Angie!

Dedication

To Charlie. Every day is Christmas because of you. I love you.

Chapter One

“This is your home town? This tiny little blip in the middle of nowhere?”

“Yeah, this is it.” Riley Jensen tensed as the tour bus pulled down Central Street. In ten years, nothing much had changed. The post office was still there and so was the hardware store, the clothing shop that was probably still owned by busybody Charlene Talmage, and the diner on the corner where her foster mother used to drag her on Saturdays so she could gossip with all her friends. The five and dime still stood in the center of all the chaos.

“And you said people wouldn’t come.” Riley’s publicist stretched her long, lithe body across the leather seats and peered out the darkened privacy glass. “The streets are lined with people.” Joann turned to Riley. “See? Your town still loves you.”

Riley sniffed. “My town just wants to be on television and they know I come with photographers and a TV crew.”

Joann tsked. “So cynical for one so young.”

“I’m almost thirty, Jo. I’m hardly young anymore.”

Jo swiveled and gave her an eye roll. “You’re twenty-eight, not anywhere close to thirty, and you’re hardly headed for the rocking chair, so knock it off, put on your biggest smile and get ready to greet your hometown fans. It’s show time.”

Show time. Hometown. She hadn’t been home since she’d bought a bus ticket ten years ago and ran like hell from Deer Lake. And she’d never once looked back, come back or wanted to, until Joann and her agent, Suzie, convinced her—no, forced her—to make this trek in order to film part of the biography special in her hometown.

That they wanted to do it during the Christmas holidays was ridiculous, but whatever. Not that she had any plans anyway.

Why Deer Lake agreed to it considering she hadn’t once stepped foot in this place in the ten years she’d been gone wasn’t because they loved their long lost home town gal. They should hate her for turning her back on them, for never coming back, for never once giving back to the town that had raised her.

Yet here they were, lined up on the streets as if she were Santa in the annual Christmas parade. And she knew why. All the smiles and waves and banners and screams outside the bus were for one thing and one thing only—exposure for the town that sat on the outskirts of the Ozarks. Deer Lake had its quirky charm and a few interesting attractions. The lake for one thing, which was a hotspot in the summer. Tourism would benefit from the exposure, and so would the town.

Jo held Riley’s jacket in front of her. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She slid into the warm suede and took another look at the woman in the mirror. She was so different from the girl she’d been when she’d left ten years ago. Back then she’d been scared out of her mind when she’d bought the one-way ticket to Nashville with nothing but a few clothes in her suitcase, her guitar and the money she’d saved working at both the movie theater and the restaurant.

“They’re proud of their hometown girl, Riley. Grammy Awards, ACMs, CMAs. You name it, you’ve won them all. They know that and they want to celebrate you.”

“They know that and they want to capitalize on me.”

Jo cocked her head to the side, her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, her lips painted a deep, dark red Riley could have never pulled off. “Girl, you are so mistrustful of your town. Get a grip.”

Riley swallowed past the lump in her throat. She was never nervous on stage. She lived for the spotlight. But facing down a few hundred townsfolk—people she’d known since she was a kid—yeah, that got her knees shaking.

At least she could take comfort in the fact there was a less than zero chance Ethan Kent and Amanda Richfield would be out there. She was positive neither of them would want to see her any more than she’d want to see them.

“Let’s just get this meet and greet over with, okay?”

She took a step toward the door, but Jo put up her hand. “As soon as all the cameras are in place.”

Ugh. She liked doing concerts just fine, loved playing for her fans. But this television stuff was a whole lotta nonsense. And a biography already? Riley thought you had to be old to get a biography. That way you actually had a life story to tell.

Apparently not. One of those true story television shows wanted her biography, claimed she had a rich life history and people wanted to know about it. They’d already filmed some concert footage as well as face time with her at her home in Nashville. She thought the whole thing was ridiculous. She was still single, had no kids, hadn’t been on drugs or been to prison, didn’t hang out at the clubs and party, and spent most of the year on the road. When she wasn’t touring she was in the studio writing and recording music.

Which would make for a pretty boring biography, in her opinion.

But the producers and Jo and Suzie thought where she came from was interesting. Sure, her daddy had died when she was a baby and her momma had run off not long after that, leaving her in the custody of foster care, but that wasn’t much different than what a lot of kids went through. Didn’t make her special. She’d had nice foster parents. No one beat her or abused her. She’d had an okay childhood, and she’d been a damn lucky adult so far, which still in her mind didn’t make for interesting television.

Whatever. They knew better about that kind of stuff than she did.

“Cameras are in place, now, Riley. Ready to rock and roll?”

No. “Sure.”

The bus doors opened and the sounds of screams and applause rose up, filling the bus. Crowd noise typically made her smile and jazzed her up, because that meant performance time.

But today she’d be giving a different kind of performance. Today she’d have to pretend she was happy to be back home again.

Jo went first and moved out of the way and Riley stepped forward, her heart pounding so fast all she could hear was the buzzing of a thousand bees in her head. She gripped the side rail, dizziness making her feel lightheaded.

If she passed out would she still have to do this? Maybe if she fainted they’d drag her back onto the bus and she could go home. The bio producers would rethink this whole thing. They’d call her a silly diva, not worth their time.

Excellent.

Jo gave her an expectant, move-your-ass-off-the-bus look.

You can do this. These people don’t know you anymore. All she had to do was play to the crowd like it was a concert in any city.

She lifted her head, took in a deep breath, and stepped down, becoming Riley Jensen, superstar of country music. She lifted her hand over her head and waved, and the crowd went crazy.

Okay, maybe she could do this as long as she didn’t make eye contact with anyone. She looked over the crowd, not at them.

She was invisible. She wasn’t really here. She was at home watching reruns of Bewitched.

“Riley! Riley! Riley! Can you see me?” Reality intruded and she couldn’t help but hear the high-pitched squeals in front of her. She focused her gaze on the little girl in the front row. Wow, there was a tiny explosion of pink. Bundled up in her pink down coat with her pink hat and pink gloves and matching pink boots, her dark pigtails contrasting against the cotton candy color of her coat, the little girl looked like a tiny fan girl maniac. Riley grinned.

She was such a sucker for kids. She nodded at security, who let the little girl come through. Riley squatted down as the kid catapulted herself into her arms.

“Hi, Riley Jensen! I love your music, Riley Jensen! My daddy and me waited all day for you.” She pulled back and gave Riley a big, brown-eyed grin. “Gosh you’re pretty. I got my nails painted just for today.” The little girl pulled off her glove. “Aren’t they pretty, Riley Jensen?”

And that’s why Riley loved kids. She examined the child’s fingers. “Wow, those are awesome. Pink’s my favorite color, you know.”

“That’s what my daddy says. He knows you. Says you two went to school together.”

“Is that right?” She scanned the crowd and settled her gaze on a man standing just beyond the little girl, her heart jerking in response.

This—this was why she hadn’t wanted to come back.

Or rather he was why she hadn’t wanted to come back.

He was why she’d run ten years ago. She straightened and looked into the deep amber eyes of the one man she’d never hoped to see again.

Ethan Kent, the first guy to break her heart. Okay, the only guy to break her heart, and the only guy she’d ever loved.

She felt the tug on her coat and looked down at the little girl, who grinned up at her. “Riley Jensen, that’s my daddy.”

Oh, hell.

Chapter Two

Ethan should really learn to say no to his daughter. If he had, he wouldn’t be standing in front of what was essentially the entire town of Deer Lake while facing down the woman who’d left him ten years ago in what had been the biggest scandal of the town. Because Riley had found him in bed with her then best friend, Amanda, who he’d subsequently married, and who had become the mother of the adorable but precocious little minx who’d managed to wriggle her way to the front of the line this morning in order to get the best view of country singing superstar Riley Jensen.

Yeah, hadn’t that been a fun time in his life ten years ago? Scandal, drama and tears, and he’d brought it all on himself.

Despite screwing it all up, though, he’d gotten Zoey out of it, and she was definitely the right thing. He’d never regret her.

But facing Riley again? That he hadn’t planned on. When she got her record deal and hadn’t come home to celebrate it, he figured he’d dodged the big bullet. He’d long ago given up hope of ever seeing her again.

’Til now. And staring at her until she turned tail and ran again probably wasn’t gonna happen, so it was time to man up and say something.

“Riley.”

She managed a bright smile that he knew was totally for the cameras. “Ethan. So great to see you again. This is your daughter?”

“This is Zoey, yes.”

“How…awesome.” She looked down and grinned at Zoey, and he was happy she didn’t plaster on a fake smile for his daughter, because Zoey had a bullshit meter that was good for about ten miles. “Nice to officially meet you, Zoey.”

Zoey slid her hand in Riley’s and shook it up and down. “Nice to meet you too, Riley Jensen. I have all your music on my iPod. I’m seven years old. My favorite song is the one you did for the cartoon movie, The Princess Bee.” She looked around Riley to meet Ethan’s gaze. “Daddy, what’s the name of that song?”

How about a nice earthquake to swallow him whole? No? Gee, thanks. “The Girl of My Dreams.”

“Yeah. That one. Daddy likes that one, too. He sings it around the house all the time, don’t you, Daddy?”

It was a damned shame it was December and a tornado couldn’t come sweep him away right now. “Sometimes.”

“He sings it in the shower. Really loud. I can hear him with the door closed.”

Riley arched a curious brow but he was saved by his daughter, who never let a moment go silent.

“Mayor Shims said you’re gonna give a concert, Riley Jensen. Are you gonna give a concert?”

“Shims is the mayor now?” Riley’s gaze shot to Ethan. His lips lifted at the look of horror on her face.

Stanley Shims had been the worst chemistry teacher at Deer Lake High School, and neither Ethan nor Riley had been particularly fond of him. The feeling had been mutual and their grades had reflected it.

“Yeah. As a matter of fact, he’s making his way to you right now.”

“Good God.” She pivoted just as the mayor arrived. “Mr. Shims! Or should I say, Mayor Shims. Congratulations.”

“Well, thank you, Riley. And congratulations to you on your success. I guess we both reached the pinnacle, didn’t we?”

Ethan was certain being mayor of Deer Lake didn’t compare to being a Grammy Award-winning musician, but Shims apparently couldn’t seem to make the distinction.

The mayor dragged Riley away to officially re-welcome her to Deer Lake and do some pontificating, which Shims did so well. Ethan grasped his daughter’s hand and gently tugged her back toward the crowd. Now they could blend back into obscurity, where he’d have been the entire time, if not for the fact Zoey didn’t have a shy bone in her entire body.

“Come on, muffin. You got to meet Riley, and she’s busy with other people now, so it’s time to go to Grandma’s. I need to get to work.”

“Okay.”

They started back toward the crowd but someone caught him by the sleeve of his jacket.

“Excuse me. Are you Ethan Kent?”

He turned around to face a gorgeous redhead with the longest false eyelashes he’d ever seen. She had on skin-tight pants and was wrapped in a thick coat and gloves as if she were expecting this to be North Dakota or something. It might be December in Missouri, but it wasn’t that cold.

“Yeah, I’m Ethan Kent.”

“And this is your lovely daughter, who obviously made quite the impression on Riley.”

Zoey smiled up at her. “You have pretty hair.”

“Thanks, honey.” She held out her hand to Ethan. “I’m Suzie Mitchell, Riley’s agent.”

“Nice to meet you.”

She handed Ethan a couple tickets. “Backstage passes to the concert tomorrow night.”

Zoey’s squeal damn near burst Ethan’s eardrums. Her eyes widened as she stared at Suzie like she was her fairy godmother. “Reallllly?”

“Yes, honey. Really. Riley wanted you to have these.”

“Can we go, Daddy? We’re going, right?”

Ethan pondered that learning-to-say-no-to-his-daughter thing, then nodded. “Sure.”

Which resulted in more ear splitting squealing from Zoey and a wide smile from Riley’s agent.

“Wonderful. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Ethan wandered away, wishing he’d never come today. Seeing Riley again had been bad enough. She looked beautiful. She’d always been beautiful, but she’d grown up, lost the roundness of her teen years. Now she sparkled like a woman, curved in all the right places. Her hair waved around her face and shoulders, still that honey-wheat blond. He was surprised she didn’t color it since she was famous now. Didn’t all women change their hair seemingly every month or so? Hers was still the same color he’d always loved.

Her blue eyes still mesmerized and tongue-tied him. She didn’t have on too much makeup like those rock stars and television people wore. She still looked like Riley, she’d just grown into herself more.

And a minute with her had brought back a lifetime of painful memories.

Now they’d have to go to her concert, where he’d have to listen to her sing all the songs she’d written about him.

Live. Where he couldn’t turn her off and walk away.

Great. Just freakin’ great.

He took the shortcut through the drugstore’s back door, knowing Missy and Bob wouldn’t mind. They were all busy ogling Riley and nobody locked anything up around here anyway. Zoey’s hand in his, he cut through the side streets and walked up the concrete steps of his parents’ house.

They had decided not to pay homage to Riley Jensen, mainly because his dad’s knee was giving him trouble today and his mom said she had some pies she wanted to bake. Ethan figured the real reason was they thought it would hurt him if they went to see her.

He pushed open the front door. The living room, looking so much like it had when he was a kid, was empty. “Mom? Dad?”

“Back here,” his mom called from the kitchen.

Zoey let go of his hand, her gloves and hat flying as she ran down the hallway. Ethan picked them up, shed his coat, hung it up and put Zoey’s gloves and hat on the table near the front door. Where they belonged. By the time he made it into the kitchen, Zoey was sitting at the table with a cup of hot chocolate in her hand and a wide grin on her cherry-tinged face.

“And then Riley gave us tickets to her concert, didn’t she, Daddy?”

Ethan knew Zoey would give his parents a rapid-fire summary of her meeting with Riley.

“She sure did.”

Ethan’s mother raised a brow. “Is that right? Well, isn’t that nice?”

“It sure is,” Zoey said. “And we get to go behind the stage and see her dressing room and hang out there the whole show. Don’t we, Daddy?”

“Uh huh.”

He got a sympathetic look from his dad on that one.

“Hey, muffin, how about you come down in the basement with me and help me work on Grandma’s dryer? You can hand me the tools.”

“Okay, Papa.” Zoey scooted off the stool and followed Ethan’s dad down into the basement, leaving him alone with his mom, who poured herself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Why in the world would you take Zoey to meet Riley?”

He shrugged. “She wanted to go.”

“And you obviously haven’t learned to say no to that child yet.”

“I say no on some things.” Like when she wanted to dart out in the middle of the street into oncoming traffic or play with razor blades.

“Spoiling her isn’t going to bring her mother back, Ethan. She needs boundaries. She needs to know that you care enough about her to give her limits.”

“She’s not exactly a brat, Mom. She’s a great kid.”

“That she is. But giving her everything in the world still isn’t going to bring Amanda back from the dead. And speaking of that, does Riley know?”

“About Amanda? No. We barely spoke a word to each other before the mayor dragged her away.”

His mother hmphed, then rose and put her cup in the sink so she could resume stirring whatever smelled really good in the pot on the stove. “Not surprising that Shims would want to get his face in front of the camera. Better him than you and Zoey, anyway. Are you going to take her to the concert?”

“I guess. Zoey does love her music.”

His mother stirred. And stirred mentally, too. Ethan could tell because she went quiet like she always did when she was thinking.

“What?”

She half turned. “Huh?”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering what all this means.”

“What what means?”

“Riley coming back to town.”

His mother always had a point. Ethan just had no idea what it was yet. “She’s here to film some stuff about a biography. She’ll be gone soon.”

“Uh huh. Everything happens for a reason, Ethan.”

“Her being here means nothing, Mom.” He rose and rinsed his cup. “I gotta get to work. I’ll be by to pick up Zoey later.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.”

He dashed downstairs to say goodbye to Zoey and his dad, then climbed into his truck and drove to his office, the pride puffing up his chest the minute he saw the Kent Construction sign on the brick building. The building housing the office wasn’t huge, but it was theirs. The real work was done on the job site. His oldest brother, Wyatt, was already at work studying blueprints.

“Morning,” he said to his brother.

“If you say so.”

“Rough night?”

He got a grunt in response, but since Wyatt had chosen the extra large cup for his coffee this morning, Ethan assumed he’d been down at Stokey’s bar the night before, no doubt continuing his quest to forget he’d ever been married.

From the looks of his brother, that still wasn’t going well.

He’d always loved working with his brothers, even though sometimes they were a giant pain in the ass. But they’d rallied around him after Amanda died, just like they’d all rallied around Wyatt after his divorce.

Not that Wyatt wanted any rallying. He just wanted to be left alone and had thrown himself into the business during the day and making a great attempt at partying his ass off at night, which Ethan supposed was a way to shut out the pain. Ethan hadn’t had the luxury of that. He had Zoey to deal with. With no kids, Wyatt could handle his pain however he wanted. And he handled it with work, work and more work. And then play, play and more play, which Ethan knew was just a smokescreen.

Wyatt wasn’t really having any fun.

Frankly, Ethan thought it might be a good idea if Wyatt actually had a conversation with Cassandra. They’d divorced two years ago and gone their separate ways. She lived on the north side of the lake now and as far as Ethan knew they hadn’t spoken a word to each other since the lawyers haggled out the settlement.

Closure was a good thing, or so he’d heard. Ethan had even tried talking to Wyatt about it. Wyatt had told him where to stick that suggestion.

Then again, now that Riley was back in town, Ethan finally realized that whole closure thing? Probably not a good idea after all.

“Where’s Brody?” Ethan asked.

“On a job site.” Wyatt didn’t bother lifting his head from the prints. That would require engaging someone in face-to-face conversation.

“Which one?” Ethan took off his coat and pulled the permits he needed to take to a site today.

“The MacKenzie one. Foreman pitching a fit about a couple of the hands, so Brody went to unruffle some feathers.”

“Okay. Tori coming in today?”

“Any minute now.”

Ethan had just booted the system up. “I need to look at the books.”

“You got a death wish, man? You know how she gets if someone messes with the system. You want to be on the receiving end of one of her tirades?”

“Good point.” Ethan kicked the chair away from the laptop and went for the printout instead. The last thing he wanted was to get on Tori’s bad side. She might be no more than twenty or whatever, but she had a head for numbers and a temper that made good on the old Irish and redhead adage. The only one who ever went toe to toe with her was Brody, mainly because he liked to rile her up. Ethan and Wyatt tiptoed around her.

Just as he got the paperwork out Tori walked in, always a tornado in the making, both arms loaded down with bags, popping her gum, her wild red hair spilling down her back.

Tori could have worked for the FBI. She could tell in a half a second when something on her desk had been disturbed. Her green eyes flashed in Ethan’s direction.

“You touch my laptop?”

“Do I look like I fear death?”

She snickered. “How about you, Wyatt?”

“Not on your life, sweet pea.”

“Where’s your idiot brother?”

“Job site.”

“Good.” She cracked her knuckles and sat down at the desk.

Never a dull moment at the office.

“Heard Riley’s back in town,” Tori said.

Word spread fast around here. Ethan looked up to see Wyatt’s distinct lack of interest as he buried his face in his work.

“Yeah.”

“You see her yet?”

“Zoey and I ran into her this morning.”

That got his brother’s attention. And a frown. “Don’t even go there, Ethan.”

“I’m not going anywhere with her. Except to her concert.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes. Tori grinned and said, “That’s interesting.”

“Not interesting at all. Zoey’s a fan.”

“Uh huh.”

“Really. That’s it. Riley and me are in the past.”

Wyatt shook his head and Tori snickered.

It was a good thing he had work to do out of the office today.

It was past ten p.m. when he finally got back from a job site in northern Arkansas, so he called his mom who said Zoey could stay over. She often stayed at his parents anyway, whether she was in school or not. And since she was out for holiday break it worked out well for her to hang out with his mom and dad.

He took the long way home, driving through Center Street, with its quaint old storefronts and the town square, the kind of small town people saw in movies and thought wasn’t real.

It was real, and it was home to him. As he left the old town and pulled onto the main highway, he passed one of the hotels and saw Riley’s tour bus parked at the new bed and breakfast.

Kent Construction had refurbished the old Victorian for Bill and Macy Grant three years ago. A rambling, beautiful three story, Bill and Macy had retired and bought the house with the intent of going into the hospitality business during their golden years.

Guess that’s where Riley and her entourage had decided to stay. Good for Bill and Macy. He hoped Riley was paying them a lot of money. She probably had plenty to spend.

Not that he cared how much money she had, or anything about Riley. He just hoped her visit was short so he could stop thinking about her at all.

Chapter Three

Yesterday had been brutal. After interviews with the mayor, a few former teachers, and then one-on-one’s with the biography host where she asked Riley probing questions about her childhood, teen years and home town, Riley had had enough and needed a break. They’d dragged her all over town so they could get shots of her in front of all the major places in her life from the playground to one of her foster parents’ homes to the high school.

Ugh. Nightmarish. Joann had had to kick her once when she rolled her eyes, but really? Maybe no one would be interested enough in her life so far to even watch.

If she was lucky.

She told them no interviews today. She told Joann she needed some free time before the concert tonight, so she made up some flimsy excuse about heading into town to reconnect with her roots, to gain some fresh perspective so she could give some good interviews to the bio team. Joann thought that was an awesome idea.

Ha. Fooled her.

There were no roots to connect with, no people she’d stayed in touch with, and not a single person was interested in seeing her. Correction—they might be interested in hanging with her if there was a camera crew nearby, but no one would want to sit and talk to her.

She had no friends here.

She climbed into old, worn jeans, her boots and a warm coat, and put on a hat because damn it was cold outside. When she parked one of the rental cars on Central and got out, she peered up at the gray skies. Dismal clouds gathered and hung low, threatening bad weather later and obliterating whatever sun might have warmed the day.

Wind was coming in from the north.

Snow was coming.

When was the last time she got to sit outside and judge the upcoming weather? When she was home in Nashville she was secluded inside from the prying eyes of the paparazzi so she habitually stayed indoors. She might go out back once in a while early in the morning, but mostly when she got a chance to go home she slept, exhausted from being on the road. So she missed a lot of mornings. And when she was done sleeping, she buried herself in her work at the studio.

Despite the bitter cold today, it felt good to be outside, to be breathing actual air, to be able to lift her head and study the shifting clouds and think about coming storms. She remembered hanging out with Ethan and Amanda and her other friends, trying to guess when the first winter snow would hit.

Soon, it looked like. Judging from the cheerful expressions of everyone out on the street, they seemed to be happy about it. Then again, maybe they were always happy. She had no idea. She no longer knew these people. She dragged the cap over her ears and slunk into her coat. She’d braided her hair today and worn no makeup. They’d expect Riley the star, not Riley the schlub.

No one would notice her.

“Morning, Riley. Nice to see you out and about today.”

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned, her gaze following the heavyset woman with short black hair who’d just greeted her. Who the hell was that?

“Mornin’, Miss Riley. Can I direct you somewhere?”

She pivoted and faced a tall, lanky man in his forties or early fifties. He looked familiar. Who was he? She tried to place him.

He had a friendly smile. “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Trevor Troutman. My wife, Karen, and I lived next door to the Landaus, one of your sets of foster parents.”

That’s how she knew him. “Oh, right. Nice to see you again, Mr. Troutman.”

“You lookin’ for some place in particular?”

“No, sir. Just out for a walk.”

“Good for you. Maybe gonna snow today, so enjoy the nice weather while we have it.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”

“My Karen, she likes your music an awful lot. So do I, as a matter of fact. We’ll be coming to your concert this evening.” He looked up at the sky. “Weather permitting, of course.”

If she was lucky there’d be a blizzard and she could hide at the bed and breakfast tonight. “Of course. Thank you. I’ll see you tonight.”

So much for trying to hide out unnoticed. She should have known better. Trevor moved on, so Riley did, too.

Other than a new coat of paint or maybe a different awning, there hadn’t been too many changes on Central. It was exactly the same as it had been when she’d left. She browsed the store windows, checking out the fashion that had changed at the clothing stores. Thank God for that. At least they kept up with some trends. She smiled at the red and white striped awning of Clusters Candy Store.

Wow. It had been years since she’d thought about Clusters.

Unable to resist going inside, she hoped to see the smiling face of Paul Hazelton working the counter, his thick mane of white hair perfectly coiffed under the red and white hat he always wore.

Instead, a texting-on-her-phone, gum-popping teenager didn’t even notice Riley had come in, despite the bell ringing over the door.

Huh. Riley stepped up to the counter, her sweet tooth sparking to life at the colorful candies and chocolates beneath the glass counter.

Gum popping continued. Buttons were being pushed, both behind and in front of the counter. Deciding what she wanted, Riley looked up at the girl, who had a pile of strawberryish purplish hair pulled up in a twist on top of her head. No cute red and white hat.

Riley continued to wait, hoping she’d be noticed. She wasn’t.

Finally, she cleared her throat and the girl sighed as if Riley was the worst inconvenience ever. “Can I help you?”

Good God. Riley could see the color of the girl’s gum. She wanted to tell her to close her mouth.

When had Riley gotten old?

“Where’s Mr. Hazelton?”

“Who?”

“Paul Hazelton.”

“Oh. The old guy?”

Riley supposed bopping the girl in the nose would be uncalled for. “Yes. The man who owns the store.”

“He died two years ago. His wife sold the store to Ray Morrow, who happens to be my dad,” she said in a snooty, I’m-the-owner’s-daughter tone of voice.

“Paul Hazelton is dead?” Riley’s stomach pitched. “Oh, poor Pattie. What’s she doing now?”

The girl gave a shrug. “Last I heard she’s in Florida with one of her kids. So do you want some candy?”

Riley forced back tears. Mr. Hazelton had always had a smile for her when she came into the store. He told jokes. Bad, corny jokes, but he’d always made her laugh. The candy store had been one of her best memories of this town, and now this smartass teenager didn’t give a damn about whether kids were happy when they left the store or not.

“So do you want candy or not?”

She sniffled and nodded, gave the girl her order and walked out, swiping tears out of her eyes as she made an abrupt turn and smacked right into an unmoving brick wall chest, dropping her bag of candy.

Dammit.

She squatted to the ground to pick up the scattered candy.

“You always were a sucker for gum drops and licorice.”

Her gaze shot up and there was Ethan, warm eyes considering her. Wasn’t this just perfect?

She lifted her gaze to his. “Paul Hazelton died, some snotty teenager who doesn’t give a damn works in there now, and I dropped my candy.”

Tears filled her eyes. She wasn’t weak, she didn’t cry. She scrambled to pick up the pieces, both literally and figuratively.

“Let me help.”

She shooed his hands away. “I’ve got it. I’m just clumsy.”

He was smiling at her, his sexy, sensual smile that had always made her feel all gooey inside. The smile that probably made Amanda feel all gooey inside now.

If he was even still with Amanda. She had no idea who Zoey’s mother was. His little girl looked just like him. Dark hair, whiskey-colored eyes, a dimple on the left side of the cheek. She’d noticed Zoey’s dimple, too. It was so cute.

“Riley?”

“No, I’m fine. Sorry. I was distracted.”

“I’ll go inside and replace your candy.”

“Don’t. I don’t need it anyway.”

He laughed at that and was already up and in the shop before she could object. She followed him inside.

“You back for more already?” the girl asked.

“She’s a candy fiend,” Ethan said. “Always was.”

“Har har.”

“Actually, she dropped her bag outside, Tiff, so replace whatever it was she had, and add two bricks of rocky road and a quarter pound of Now and Laters for me.”

Despite not wanting to be in here—again—she couldn’t help but smile at Ethan’s selection. “I see your candy choices haven’t changed, either.”

“I need the energy for work.”

“Yeah? What work is that?”

“Wyatt, Brody and I own the construction company now that Dad is retired.”

“That must keep you busy.”

“Very.”

She took the bag from gum-chewing girl. Ethan paid. “I can pay for my own candy.”

He slanted her a look. “And I can afford a couple bucks for it.”

They walked outside. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Ethan started walking, so Riley went with him. “So…you working in town today?”

“Yeah, over there.” He pointed across town where a steel frame could be seen. “New performing arts center. Gotta have culture here. If you’d waited a year you could be putting on your concert there.”

“Oh. I guess I’ll have to suck it up at the high school gym.”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of candy. “I imagine that’s one hell of a step down for you.”

No way was she taking the bait. Time to turn the tables.

“Where’s Zoey today?”

“At my parents.”

“Not home with her mother?”

“No.”

Maybe Zoey’s mother worked. And wasn’t Ethan being evasive? She’d bet she knew why. Might as well find out and get it over with. “So…did you end up marrying Amanda?”

He stilled and Riley bit her cheek, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. Why couldn’t she have talked about the weather or something?

“Yeah, about that.”

“Hey, none of my business. Sorry.”

“I did marry Amanda. In answer to your next question, yes, she’s Zoey’s mother.”

“Okay. Look, Ethan, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Amanda died four years ago.”

The sidewalk spun out from under her. She stopped, turned and stared at him. “What?”

Ethan dragged his fingers through his hair. “Shit. Not the way I wanted to tell you this. I should have told you sooner, but didn’t want to in front of Zoey. It’s not something you blurt out when you first see someone after ten years.”

She hadn’t heard anything he’d said, his earlier words still spinning around in her head. “She died?”

“Yes.”

Riley knew she was staring, but she had no idea what to say. Shock left her speechless. She’d had so many things she’d wanted to say to Ethan and Amanda, so many of them self-righteous, so many of them scathing and damning. She’d even had a speech all planned out, full of indignation and finger pointing, everything she’d wanted to say ten years ago and couldn’t because she’d run. And all her anger and hurt had just disappeared into the ether. Her chest tightened. She reached up and rubbed the aching spot on her breastbone.

Had everyone she cared about died while she was gone? It suddenly seemed that way. Tears sprang fresh again and she finally made eye contact with Ethan and saw the pain in his eyes. “Oh God. Oh, Ethan, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

There was kindness in his face, sympathy for her she knew she didn’t deserve.

“I know you didn’t.”

She had no idea what to say, could only gawk at him as she stood rooted to the spot, frozen in time as she was propelled back ten years ago, before she found Ethan in bed with her best friend. Back when Amanda and she were tight, were best buds. When they used to laugh with each other, share all their secrets. They’d been inseparable then, had vowed to never be apart.

They were supposed to be best friends forever.

And then one night had shattered all that and she’d never spoken to Amanda again.

Now she’d never be able to.

“Riley?”

Pulling herself from the past, she looked around at the crowds, at the people who slowed down to stare, and finally dragged her gaze to Ethan.

What must he think of her? He was the one who’d lost everything. He’d lost his wife, the woman he’d obviously loved. Zoey had lost her mother.

“What happened? You don’t want to talk about this, do you? It’s none of my business. I’m sorry. I should move on instead of asking questions you don’t want to answer.”

Ethan knew the time would come when he’d have to tell Riley about Amanda. He just hadn’t figured it would be right now. Then again, would there ever be a right time?

Judging from her shocked and pale face, probably not.

“Come on.” He took her arm and led her through the library and out the back door, waving at Barb, the head librarian, as they hurried past. On the other side of the street was the construction trailer. He opened the door for her and she stepped inside.

Fortunately, they were alone.

“Have a seat. Want something to drink?”

“No, thanks. Really, you don’t have to—”

“It was leukemia, and it was bad. She didn’t make it a year after the diagnosis. We tried everything. Chemo, radiation, alternative treatments, but it was aggressive. There was nothing we could do.”

Riley stared up at him. “That’s too young. She was, what? Twenty-four or so?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m…not in touch with people here. I didn’t know.”

He shrugged and leaned against the desk. “No reason for you to know.”

She inhaled and shuddered out a sigh. “So many people I knew. My whole life was here and I just walked away from it. From everyone.” She lifted her gaze to his. “It’s not like I didn’t care. I did.”

“I know.” And he did. He understood why. He was the reason. He and Amanda.

“I never hated you. I never hated her.”

He gave her a faint smile. “Yes you did.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She let them slide down her cheeks. He hated being the cause of her pain again.

“Dammit, Ethan. She’s dead. I never wanted that. I was angry and hurt, but I never wished harm to Amanda.”

He pushed off the desk and came to her, kneeled in front of her. “Don’t cry. I know you didn’t. Amanda dying isn’t on you. It was a circumstance.”

She sniffed, shoved the heel of one hand under her chin. “I’m just so sorry for you and for Zoey. It’s a horrible thing.”

“Zoey’s resilient. She misses her mom, but she has me, her uncles, and my parents.”

“What about Amanda’s parents?”

Ethan shook his head. “They took her death hard. Really hard. They withdrew and couldn’t cope, not even with Zoey.”

Her eyes widened. “Good God. How could they miss connecting with Zoey?”

Ethan stood, shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I tried to reach out to them, but they wanted no part of me or Zoey after Amanda died. They left town a year later, said they couldn’t handle the memories.”

Riley shook her head. “That makes no sense, Ethan. Zoey was their connection to her.”

“Don’t ask me to explain them. I can’t.”

“I’m sorry for them, but not surprised. They were always so wrapped up in Amanda. She was their life.”

“Losing her broke them. They were so angry, bitter, blamed me for it.”

“How could they blame you for a disease? You didn’t give her leukemia.”

“I shouldered it because they needed to blame someone for the senseless loss of their little girl. How else do you explain why a twenty-four-year-old healthy woman dies?”

Riley bent her head to her chest for a few minutes and Ethan let her grieve. When she lifted her head, she wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. But the pain in her eyes—that shredded him. It brought back the loss as if it had just happened yesterday.

If she hadn’t left, she would have been here when Amanda died.

That was on him. He had to bear some of the responsibility for that.

“It’s good that you’ve been there for Zoey. She needs you.”

He relaxed, thought about Zoey. “She’s everything to me. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. She’s the only thing I’ve ever done right.”

Riley wanted to ask him what his mistakes were, but she saw the raw hurt in his eyes, and the pride when he talked about his daughter. She wouldn’t push any further, not after what he’d told her about Amanda.

Amanda had been her best friend once. There’d been a lot of water under the bridge since she’d left, a lot of betrayal and hurt, but for a very long time Amanda had been the closest thing to a sister Riley would ever have.

If she’d stayed in touch with the town, with Amanda, if she’d learned forgiveness sooner, she’d have known. She could have been here for her best friend during the last year of her life.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for her.”

“You didn’t need to be, but if it’s any comfort to you, Amanda felt awful about what happened. She said if I ever saw you again I was supposed to tell you that.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to hear that.”

Ethan frowned. “Why not?”

“Because now I can’t tell her that I’m sorry, too. I said some terrible things to her before I left. I hurt her.”

She’d hurt them both, but she couldn’t make it right with Amanda now. She’d called Amanda a slut and Ethan a cheating bastard, and then left them both in the dust and never looked back.

Ethan hooked his thumbs in his jeans, the action so familiar to her it caused an ache in her throat.

“From what I remember she did the same to you.”

“And now you tell me she said she was sorry. I’ll never get the chance to tell her.”

“You did.”

“What?”

“You did already. In your music. She listened to every song. She knew, Riley. She heard your apology.”

“You know my music. What Zoey said yesterday…”

“Yeah, I listen. I heard it all.”

The condemnation, the hurt, the raw agony of those first years. She’d always written her own music. Her first album had been her catharsis, pouring her heart out over losing Ethan to Amanda. It had been the grief of young love lost, about betrayal and anger. She’d sung about what it was like to open your eyes to what was around you so you’d never feel stupid again. The album had gone triple platinum, and she felt like she’d grown up and walked away from all of this, determined to never look back.

But she had looked back, because later on she had written about forgiveness, about becoming wise and learning from your mistakes. She had written about people doing what they thought was right, and everything not revolving around you and what you wanted, and she’d sung about letting go. After time and distance her anger had dissipated, and she had said she was sorry in her music, because she had bared her soul in her lyrics, and so much of her hurt had been directed at Ethan and Amanda. She’d made sure the whole world knew it.

She’d gotten famous off her pain, but she’d finally realized that she had caused other people pain, too. Maybe no one else knew who she’d been writing about, but Deer Lake had known.

“I’m sorry, Ethan. For the lyrics, for the hurt I must have caused you and Amanda.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong. I did. Amanda did. I said it that night all those years ago, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say it enough. But you? You don’t ever have to be sorry, Riley. You did what you knew how to do. You made music and you wrote your heart out. Don’t apologize for that.”

She shuddered out a sigh. They’d needed to have this talk, but there was so much more she wanted to say, and so many things that should probably be left unsaid. For so many years she’d wanted to undo the past.

But the past was etched in stone and there was no going back and changing it now.

Yet no matter how many years went by, she’d always want to know why.

Why he’d told her he loved her, then chose Amanda over her.

She doubted she’d ever have the nerve to ask the question. The answer didn’t matter anymore anyway.

“I should let you get back to work.” She stood, grabbed her coat and put it on. She reached for the door handle, then turned. “You and Zoey coming to the concert tonight?”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Yeah. You had your agent gives us backstage passes, remember?”

Damn that Suzie. “Oh. Right. Of course. Won’t that be great? See you then.”

As she headed back toward her car, she felt empty inside.

And everything hurt more now than it ever had before.

Chapter Four

Zoey was on a high no sugar could match. Backstage in the gym, the sounds and lights and traffic of people buzzed past them as Riley’s concert team readied the stage, transforming the gym into something unrecognizable with lights and speakers and screens befitting Riley’s status. Zoey bounced up and down on her light-up tennis shoes, unable to stand still as the roadies prepped for the event and Ethan tried to keep his daughter from climbing right out of her hair.

The concert wasn’t going to start until nine o’clock, which was his daughter’s bedtime. She hadn’t napped today, either, despite his mother’s attempt to get her to rest.

His kid was going to be toast by the time the concert was over. Or she’d be on excitement overload and up all night.

Ethan prayed for toast.

“Is it time yet, Daddy? Have you seen Riley Jensen yet? I haven’t seen her. Can we go to her dressing room now?”

Zoey tugged on his hand for the millionth time. “I’m sure Riley’s busy getting ready for her concert. How about we just try to stay out of the way and be patient.”

Patient. A word not in a seven-year-old’s vocabulary.

“But why can’t we go see her? I bet she won’t mind. She likes me.”

“How about we wait until after the concert when she isn’t so busy?”

“But, Daddy, I want to see her nowwww.”

Whining. Sure sign of a tired kid. Ethan kneeled down and looked his beautiful daughter in the eyes. “Zoey, we’re not going to Riley’s dressing room. The concert people were nice enough to give us backstage passes, which means you need to be on your best behavior. I know you’re excited, but you still have to be good. And that means doing what I tell you to do, okay?”

Her bottom lip trembled. Man, was this kid good or what? He should get her an agent. He was usually a sucker for the quivering lip, but not tonight. He didn’t want to be here. He’d already seen way more of Riley than he’d intended to during her visit, so his daughter was just going to have to suck it up.

As soon as Zoey saw that her drama routine wasn’t working, she lifted her shoulders practically to her earlobes, then dropped them, accompanied by a loud, dramatic sigh. “Okay, Daddy. I’ll be good.”

And now he had guilt. Of course, when didn’t he have guilt?

Fortunately, Riley came out of her dressing room, zeroed in on Zoey and Zoey sure zeroed in on Riley.

“Riley Jensen! I’ve been waiting alllll night for you!”

Riley grinned and scooped Zoey up in her arms. “You have? Why didn’t you come to my dressing room?”

Zoey shot Ethan a scathing look. “Daddy said we couldn’t.”

Riley put her down and Zoey slipped her hand in Riley’s.

“Oh. Well you could have come in. I just relax a little before I go on.”

“Believe me, if Zoey would have been in there with you, there would have been no relaxing.”

She laughed. “It’s no big deal.” She looked down at Riley. “From now on you’re welcome to be wherever I am.”

“See, Daddy? I told you she liked me.”

“You’ll be sorry you said that. You won’t even be able to go to the bathroom alone.”

Riley arched a brow. “She’s a kid, Ethan.”

“She’s seven. And demanding. Trust me on this.”

Riley looked down at Zoey. “You ready for the concert?”

“Yup.”

Suzie came over. “I have a spot all picked out for you two side stage with a great view. Why don’t you come with me so Riley can get set up?”

Ethan took Zoey’s hand. “Let’s go, Zoey.”

“See you two later,” Riley said, and moved off, a few people following after her.

Suzie set them in a chair at the side curtain where they had a perfect view of the stage. Ethan hoisted Zoey in his lap and waited while Riley set up with her band.

She looked beautiful in tight jeans and cowboy boots, a flowing turquoise top, her hair spilling in soft waves over her shoulders and long earrings that sparkled in the light. She wore bangles on both wrists that shimmered in the overhead lights, too. She looked magical. She looked like a star. Hell, she was a star.

The announcer came out and the packed-to-capacity crowd went crazy. Ethan had never seen so many people in the high school gym. Once word had gotten out that Riley had come home, people from the surrounding cities came in droves. The gym was at capacity, given that it was a free concert. Ethan heard Riley’s crew had set up a big screen and speakers outside for the overflow of people who couldn’t get inside, especially since the fire marshal was keeping a close count on the number of people in the gym.

After the announcer left, the crowd started clapping, their raucous cries and stomping feet commanding her to come out, demanding the curtains to part. But when the lights went out and the stage went black, a hush fell over the crowd. The curtains opened to a darkened stage and the spotlight fell on Riley sitting on a stool with her guitar.

Riley began to play, the song so familiar Ethan could hum it in his sleep. One of the songs from her first album, a song of loss and pain so deep it brought a stab of pain to him as she sang the words that had torn him apart the first time he’d heard them.

“Turns out forever meant different things to us after all.

Loving you was gonna hurt me after all

After it all, after it all, all the tears and all the pain

I still loved you, after all.”

Her voice struck him deep in his heart. When she was younger, he’d loved to listen to her whenever she picked up her guitar. But then it had just been her and her guitar in his basement or in his room or his parents’ living room or wherever they were gathered with their friends. And later, when he’d bought her CD, he’d been struck by the sheer magic of how incredible she sounded.

But the maturity of her voice and listening to her live was so much better than what he remembered from ten years ago, and light years from plugging in his iPod. This was the voice of an angel, and she sang only to him, about him, and even when she damned him for the sins he’d committed it was pure heaven.

Even Zoey was enraptured, her blue eyes wide, her normally chirpy voice silent as she leaned against his chest and stared at Riley as she went through the strains of song after song. Whether fast and upbeat and singing about cutting loose and dancing, or the slow and haunting strains as she sang of love gone wrong, she wrapped her music around Ethan and his daughter, further reminding him of what he’d given up all those years ago.

Every note further sealed for him that he’d made the right choice in letting her go, in not trying harder to find her after she’d left. This is what Riley had been meant to do, and if he’d had to fall into Amanda’s trap and lose Riley for this to happen for her, then it had been all worth it.

The concert lasted an hour and a half, and when she ended on the soft melody of a country lullaby, his baby girl fell asleep in his arms. Not even the thunderous standing ovation the crowd gave Riley could wake Zoey. He sat there while Riley did an encore, not wanting to miss a moment of the last song she sang. When she came off the stage, she stopped, paused and stared, and tears sparkled in her eyes as she stared down at Zoey.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful,” she said, her gaze meeting his.

He was about to say the same thing to her about her music.

“Do you need to go home?”

“Probably.”

“Okay.”

He sensed her hesitation, that she wanted to talk. What he really wanted to do was get the hell out of here. His head and his heart were filled with her and her music and the memories of the two of them. Big mistake to linger. He needed to shake the dust off the past and get his mind firmly in the present, where Riley didn’t exist.

“Stay. Please.”

Damn. “Okay. I just need to lay Zoey down.”

She nodded. “Bring her on back to my dressing room.”

Ethan lifted Zoey, followed Riley and laid her down on the sofa in the makeshift dressing room they’d set up for her in the high school drama department’s changing room. He covered Zoey with his jacket and took the bottle of water one of Riley’s staffers offered him, then sat on the arm of the sofa while Riley shooed everyone who wanted to crowd in out of the room. She shut the door behind her and turned to him.

“That was a beautiful performance tonight.”

She grinned. “You think so? Thanks.”

“I always loved your singing. Your voice is amazing.”

Her lashes tilted closed as she turned away. He couldn’t believe she was unaccustomed to praise. She probably got it all the time.

“I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Me, too. Zoey loved it, too. She fell asleep on the last song.”

Riley pulled up a chair next to the sofa. “Late night for her.”

“Long day for her. She was excited about this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the invitation.”

She crooked a smile. “For Zoey, of course.”

“For both of us. I enjoyed the concert, too.”

* * *

It hovered on the tip of her tongue, the why not me question she wanted to ask. But Zoey lay sleeping like an angel on the sofa a foot away from Ethan. Now wasn’t the time.

It would never be the right time to ask a question for which there wasn’t ever going to be a good enough answer.

Because he’d preferred Amanda, and she’d never seen it coming. She’d spent years going over it in her head—all the times the three of them had been together. Why hadn’t she seen it?

Enough. She wasn’t eighteen years old anymore. Amanda was dead, and there was no point in rehashing old hurts.

But the question still burned inside of her, desperate to be asked.

She hoped she could get out of this town and soon before the question spilled out.

“Great crowd tonight,” he finally said, no doubt to fill the silence in the room.

“Yeah, it was. Who knew everyone would come?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Riley, everyone here is proud of you.”

“I didn’t think anyone here liked me anymore. I hadn’t been back since I left.”

“People don’t hold grudges like that. You know how this town is.”

“I guess I forgot how forgiving folks could be.” She’d forgotten a lot of things. Like how to be forgiving.

She lifted her gaze to Ethan, remembered the past, only this time the good parts instead of the bad.

He looked good tonight in his dark jeans and long-sleeved dark blue button-down shirt, his muscles filling out every square inch. He used to be on the skinny side, but strong. Judging from the way he fit the shirt, she could only imagine the muscles now.

He studied her and she wondered what he saw.

Country diva who couldn’t be bothered to come home once she’d left.

Ex-girlfriend who’d run and never returned.

Bad friend who hadn’t been here when her best friend had needed her most.

What else must he think of her?

Then again, she hadn’t created this mess alone, had she? She hadn’t been the one to climb into bed with Amanda and ruin what she and Ethan had.

And again, the question burned on the tip of her tongue, begging to be asked.

Why?

Ethan shifted, dragging the smoke of the past away and reminding her that she was a lousy hostess.

“Yeah, well, I should get Zoey home and into bed.”

Great job, Riley. “Sure.”

He put on his coat and turned to her. “Thank you again for the backstage passes.”

She wanted to tell him she hadn’t even known about the passes, that it had been Suzie’s doing. But what point would that serve, other than self protection?

“You’re welcome. Glad you came.”

“How much longer are you staying in town?”

She cocked a brow. “Anxious to get rid of me?”

His lips lifted. “No. No, that wasn’t it at all. I was just wondering if there was someplace you needed to be, with the holidays and all.”

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “No. I have to hang out here with a few of my people until this…thing is over with.”

“Thing?”

“Biography thing.”

“Oh. Yeah, right.”

She shrugged. “Not my idea. Honest. I’m a little young for a bio.”

“The television people seem to think otherwise.”

He was delaying leaving. She wondered why. “They said I’ve lived a lifetime in twenty-eight years, or some nonsense to that effect.”

“Haven’t you? You’ve gone through a lot to get where you are now.”

Was it her imagination, or was he drawing closer?

“Not really. I just got lucky.”

She found herself focusing on his lips, which was such a bad idea, because it got her thinking of how great a kisser he was, and how long it had been since she’d kissed him. And then she licked her lips, and his gaze traveled to her mouth and settled there.

“Luck had nothing to do with your success. Pure talent.”

She really wished he’d look somewhere other than her mouth, because now her throat went dry, and she had to swallow. And lick her lips again. She suddenly wanted to kiss him more than she wanted to breathe.

He took a step closer and reached for her.

“Daddy, I have to go potty.”

Riley took two steps back and so did Ethan, both of them turning to focus on a very sleepy-eyed Zoey, who sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Sure, muffin.”

“Where are we, Daddy?”

“In Riley’s dressing room.”

Zoey blinked, yawned and grinned at Riley. “Hi, Riley Jensen. You sing good.”

Riley laughed. “Thanks, sweetie.”

He took Zoey’s hand and she slid off the sofa.

“We’d better go find a bathroom, and then head home. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Bye, Zoey.”

Zoey waved. “Bye, Riley Jensen.”

Only after Ethan closed the door to the dressing room did Riley sink onto the sofa and exhale.

Ethan had almost kissed her. Even worse, Riley had really wanted him to.

She had to get the hell out of this town, and fast.

Chapter Five

“Have you seen the contract for the Lincoln project?” Tori asked him the next day.

“No.”

“It’s your project, Ethan. You were out yesterday having the contract signed.”

“I don’t know where it is. Maybe my truck.” He kept his focus on the blueprint he was studying, trying to tune out anything else but work.

“Well, do you think you could go get it so I could enter it into the system?”

“Later. I’m busy.”

He heard an audible sigh.

“Ethan, only Wyatt has the market cornered on brooding asshole.”

“Hey. I am here,” Wyatt grumbled from the corner of the office.

“So?” Tori replied. “It’s not like your attitude is a big secret. And Brody is a close second in the annoying-me-until-I-want-to-scream department.”

“I do my best,” Brody said, having made an appearance this morning.

“Shut up, Brody.” She turned her attention back to Ethan. “Ethan, you’re supposed to be the nice guy of the three brothers. If you turn cranky or irritating like these two, I might just have to start cracking some heads around here.”

He lifted his head and stared across the office at Tori. She tapped her pencil against the corner of her desk and gave him one of her trademark don’t-screw-with-me looks.

“You wouldn’t like her when she’s angry,” Brody teased.

“Shut. Up. Brody.” Tori’s jaw was clenched. It was clear she was reaching the boiling point.

“Sorry. Have a lot on my mind.” Ethan fished his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to her. “I’m pretty sure the contract is laying in the seat.”

She caught the keys and stood. “Thanks. And what made you so bitchy today?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. Not much sleep last night.”

“Oh, a date?” She stopped at his desk and leaned against it, obviously eager for some good gossip.

Too bad he had none for her. “No.”

The place went silent. Good. Until he felt eyes on him. He lifted his gaze and Tori was still there, leaning over his desk to give him her X-ray vision, as if she could see into his brain.

“What?”

“You know that’s not good enough.”

“And you’re not my mother.”

“And you know I’m going to continue to stare at you until you tell me where you were last night.”

Jesus, she was like a dog with a bone. “Why?”

“Because it obviously has something to do with your less-than-stellar mood today.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then you should have no problem telling us where you were last night.”

Shit.

“She’s got you now, Ethan,” Brody said, propping his feet up on his desk and no doubt grateful he wasn’t the one under Tori’s microscope this morning.

It was clear she wasn’t going to give up. “I went to Riley’s concert.”

Tori made a face and stood. “Glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

But Tori was already out the door.

Brody stood and came over to his desk, leaned against it and folded his arms. “What the hell possessed you to go to Riley’s concert?”

Ethan was already nose down in blueprints again. “Zoey likes her.”

“Uh huh. And you sat in the back row and sucked it up?”

“No. We had backstage passes.”

“Oh. Extra-strength pain and humiliation.”

“It wasn’t bad. It’s been ten years. She doesn’t hold a grudge.”

Wyatt snorted. “Bullshit. All women hold a grudge.”

“Yeah, and you don’t?” His brother held a deep grudge against his ex-wife, and it was affecting everything about his life.

Wyatt shrugged and took up his pencil again, effectively tuning them out.

Brody, unfortunately, didn’t. “Seriously, man, what’s up with you seeing Riley?”

“I’m not ‘seeing’ Riley. I took Zoey to her concert. Then I came home. Now I’m at work. Trying to work.” He motioned his head toward the blueprints.

“But you can’t deny there’s some serious history between you two. And unfinished business.”

“Brody’s right.” Tori came back in and shut the door to the office, laying the folder she’d retrieved on her desk. “You should settle it or you’ll end up a grumpy old man like Wyatt.”

“Again, I’m in the room,” Wyatt grumbled.

“Oh, like you care what we say about you, Wyatt,” Tori said as she took her seat and opened the folder. “You ignore us all anyway like you’ve been doing for the past two years. Go back to brooding. I’ll pick on you another day.”

Wyatt had no comment.

Maybe Ethan needed to try the silent approach in the future, because arguing with them was getting him nowhere. There was no business to finish with Riley.

* * *

“So they want to interview Ethan.”

Riley’s head shot up from the page where she’d been jotting down notes for a song and gaped at Joann.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“He’s part of your past, Riley. A big part. You’ve written like twenty-five songs about him.”

“And no one knows that but you and Suzie and the band, and you’re all sworn to secrecy. You promised.”

How had they found out about Ethan?

“The producers don’t know about the connection between Ethan and the songs. They just know he was your teenage boyfriend, which makes him a part of your past, a part they feel should be explored.”

“No. We talked about this. No Ethan.” She’d made it clear Amanda wouldn’t be interviewed, either, but of course that would never happen now. “I don’t want him or Zoey involved in this.”

Jo took a seat in the living room across from the roaring fire. The temperature had dropped and the skies were an ugly gray outside. Riley snuggled up in her sweats, Henley shirt and thick socks in front of the fire, intent on sipping hot cocoa and working on the song she’d started on the bus ride here. She’d spent part of the day lost in her music, happy to be alone and away from the production of the biography. When she wrote she could shut out everything, including what had almost happened between her and Ethan last night.

Except her songwriting had drifted into thoughts of first love and first kisses, and that’s not at all where she’d intended to go.

Instead, her idyllic moments of peace had been shattered by this. No way was she going to allow it.

“The thing is, Rye, Ethan has agreed to it.”

She laid her guitar to the side, letting it rest against the chair. “What?”

“They called him this afternoon and he agreed to the interview tomorrow as long as they promised to keep his daughter out of it, not mention her and make sure she stays off camera.”

“Oh, no. That’s not going to work at all.” She stood. “He absolutely cannot do the interview.”

Jo nodded. “I’ll get a staff member to contact the biographer, and then Ethan.”

“No. I don’t want this staffed out. I need to talk to Ethan myself.” She went into the kitchen and looked around. “Surely there has to be a phone book around here somewhere.”

One of her staff members grabbed it from the counter and handed it to her.

“Thanks.”

She flipped through the book and found Ethan’s name, dug in her purse for her cell and dialed Ethan’s home phone number.

“No answer.” Damn. “I’ll try his parents. They might know how I can reach him.”

She dialed his parents’ number, and his mother picked up. It had been years since she’d spoken to Mrs. Kent. A lump the size of her tour bus lodged in her throat.

“Mrs. Kent?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Riley Jensen.”

She waited for silence, for condemnation, for something other than the enthusiastic response she got.

“Riley, honey! I’m so glad to hear from you. Why haven’t you been by to see us yet? I’m so sorry we didn’t make it to greet you when you arrived the other day, but Roger’s knee is bad and I knew Ethan would be dropping Zoey off. And look at me talking your ear off and you haven’t had a chance to say a word yet.”

Riley breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s so wonderful to hear your voice, Mrs. Kent.”

“Please, call me Stacy. You’re a big girl now.”

“Thank you, Stacy. I was wondering if you knew where Ethan was. It’s kind of important I talk to him.”

“He’s over here tonight. Everyone came over for dinner and game night. Why don’t you swing by? I know everyone would love to see you.”

Oh, right. She’d just bet his brothers would “love” to see her. “Oh, I don’t know about that. If I could just talk to Ethan…”

“Well, he’s in the middle of a rather rousing game of Yahtzee at the moment, so you’d better come on over. Though I realize you’re a big and important star and probably busy doing something, so I understand if you can’t.”

It hadn’t been said with malice. Stacy Kent thought Riley’s dance card was full. Ha. “I’m not big and important, and I’ll be right over. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Great, honey. See you soon.”

She hung up and wondered why she’d agreed to step foot into the lion’s den.

* * *

As she stood outside Ethan’s parents’ house and stared up at the brightly blinking Christmas lights lining the roof as well as the smiling, waving mechanical Santa and snowman parked on the front lawn, Riley took a deep lungful of bitter cold air and wondered what she was doing here. She should have just asked Ethan’s mother to have him call her when he was free.

But it had been a long time since she’d seen his parents, and they’d always been so nice to her.

Still, his brothers were here and she’d just bet they weren’t members of her fan club.

Her knees knocked against each other and her heart slammed against her chest as she rang the doorbell.

One would think she’d never get nervous, but since she’d come back to Deer Lake, she’d had a ton of leg-shaking moments.

Ethan’s dad swung the door open. He’d changed a little in ten years, gotten a little grayer and a lot heavier, but his generous smile was still the same.

“Riley Jensen. Aren’t you just all grown up and more beautiful than ever? Come on in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kent.”

He shut the door behind her, then took her coat. “Everyone’s in the family room. He limped next to her. “You have your choice of Yahtzee, Uno or Scrabble.”

She remembered family game night, a required weekly event she’d always loved, and a tradition that obviously still continued.

Family traditions. She’d never had them because she’d jumped around from family to family. That’s why she’d loved the Kents. They’d been her stability, her normalcy in a childhood that wasn’t.

The house hadn’t changed much. As she surveyed the Christmas tree and the decorations she remembered so well, she was struck with a pang of homesickness she hadn’t felt since the day she’d grabbed a bus out of town and hadn’t looked back.

The Kent home had been as much a home for her as it had been for Ethan. When she and Ethan had started dating her freshman year of high school, they’d been inseparable, which meant she’d spent much of her time at his house because she tended to bounce around here and there at foster homes. And even when she was stable, she didn’t want to burden her foster family with yet another kid.

The Kents had been like parents to her—kind, welcoming, treating her like their own daughter.

She’d loved them.

And like so many others in Deer Lake, she’d left them behind without explanation and without saying goodbye.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed them until she saw the stuffed Christmas moose on the table in the foyer, or the strings of lighted garland winding up the stairs, or the smiling snowmen who decorated Stacy’s mantel. She heard the whistling of the train under the tree, remembering sitting in the living room and staring at that train for hours, marveling at the magic of a family holiday.

All of these were part of her memories of Christmases past.

Not everything in the past hurt.

She’d had good memories too.

Fighting back tears, she put on a smile as Roger led her into the oversized family room.

“Guess who I found at the front door?”

Several pairs of eyes turned and the raucous noise in the room quieted down.

The guys all stood.

The Kent brothers had certainly all grown up. Between Ethan, Wyatt and Brody, the three of them were devastating in the looks department. All of them with thick dark hair, tall and well muscled. Wyatt had dangerous good looks and a firm jaw, Brody looked like one of those sexy calendar models, all lean and lethal, but it was Ethan who caught her eye the most. It was in his eyes, the way he looked at her when she entered the room. Maybe because she’d been in love with him for half her life.

Ethan came over to her.

“Riley. What are you doing here?”

“I called your house but you weren’t there so I called your mother. She asked me to come over.”

Stacy greeted her with a hug and held it for a minute. “More like demanded she come join us. So wonderful to see you again, Riley.”

The hug was so warm and welcoming, Riley never wanted to let go. “It’s nice to see you again, too.”

“Now, what would you like to drink? Hot chocolate?”

Riley nodded. “That would be great. Thanks.”

“Good. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go work your Scrabble words while you’re gone,” Roger said.

Stacy shot him a glare. “You even so much as peek anywhere near my side of the table and I’ll hobble your other leg.”

Roger narrowed his gaze. “You’re cutthroat, woman.” He turned and gave Riley a wink. “She thinks I cheat.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Duh, Dad. You do cheat.”

Roger lifted his chin. “Do not. I just can’t spell good so your mother takes that advantage and uses it against me.”

“Are we going to play here or what?” Brody asked. “I’m ahead of you and Wyatt and I intend to kick your butts.”

“I need to talk to Riley.”

“Well make it fast. And hi, Riley. Nice to see you around here again. Try to visit more than once every ten years, will ya?”

“Thanks, Brody. Nice to see you again too. And I’ll try. And hi, Wyatt.”

“Uh huh.” Wyatt offered up a half-assed wave, then lifted a bottle of beer to his lips.

Ethan led her out of the room and into the formal living room. They took seats on the sofa. “Ignore Wyatt. He’s got a major chip on his shoulder. It’s not you, trust me. He treats everyone with the exact same amount of disdain.”

“Really? Why?”

“It’s his divorce a couple years ago. He’s still carrying a grudge and isn’t fond of women in general.”

“Oh. Ouch. I’m sorry.”

Ethan shrugged. “That’s his problem to deal with.”

“Where’s Zoey?”

“Spending the night at a friend’s house.”

“Oh. I’m sorry I missed her.”

He smiled. “She likes you too. And she had fun at the concert, even though she passed out at the end.”

Riley laughed. “It’s no problem. It was late. I’m glad she had a good time.”

She was stalling. She should tell him why she was here.

“Here’s your hot chocolate.” Stacy handed her a steaming mug, then hovered while Riley sipped.

She moaned. “It’s just how I remembered. Thick, with an overabundance of marshmallows. It’s wonderful.”

Stacy beamed. “I’m glad you like it.”

Ethan looked up at his mother. “Uh, Mom?”

“Oh. Oh, of course. If you’ll excuse me, I’d better go get back to Scrabble before Roger steals all my tiles.”

She left the room, and Riley turned to Ethan. “It’s about the interview you’re doing tomorrow.”

He frowned. “The one with the biography people?”

“Yes. Please don’t do it.”

“Why not?”

Did she have to spell it out? “You know why not. I can’t believe you even agreed to it. The history between us, what happened between you and Amanda. Do you really want all of that broadcast?”

He gave her the kind of indulgent smile he probably gave his daughter when she was overtired and acting out. “Do you really think I’m going to give them details? How dumb do you think I am, Riley? All they want to talk about is us dating in high school. I figure I’ll toss them a few crumbs and they’ll be on their way.”

“I’d like to keep that part of my life off limits.”

He laughed. “Right. It wasn’t off limits in your music, was it?”

Irritation skittered across her pulse, driving up her heartbeat. “No one knew it was you.”

“Wrong. Everyone knew it was me. Everyone who counted to me. Maybe none of the millions of your fans, but every single person in this town heard your lyrics and felt sorry for you and turned their eyes to Amanda and me. We couldn’t walk down the street together for a long time when your first album came out.”

She stood and stared down at him. “Is that why you agreed to the interview? You’re looking for a little payback?”

He stood, too. “What do you think I’m going to say to them, Riley? You were the victim in all of this. Nothing I say to them could paint you in a bad light. I did sleep with your best friend, and that’s why you couldn’t get out of Deer Lake fast enough. Hell, you’ll come out of it looking even better, so I don’t know why you’re worried. You should be pushing me to talk to the media. Think of all the new songs you’ll get out of this.”

A stab to her heart couldn’t have hurt more than his words did. “Is that what you think of me? After all we’ve been through, is that all you think of me? You believe that I’m back here to eke out some more heartache and song lyrics, Ethan, that I looked forward to reliving the nightmare of ten years ago so I could grab a few songs for my next album? After all, the well might be dry now so maybe you and I could relive old times, or maybe even drum up something new and painful and I could go platinum again. It’s all about using each other, isn’t it? Because that’s what you really think of me, isn’t it? That it’s all about the fame and the money.”

He didn’t answer, which was, she supposed, his answer.

She flicked her gaze to the doorway and there stood his mother, his father and his brothers.

Great. Did they all believe the same thing about her?

The walls seemed to close in on her. She couldn’t breathe.

She had to get out of here. Now.

Chapter Six

Riley did what she’d always done best. She ran.

She turned and escaped from the room, grabbed the door handle and fled out the front door, realizing as soon as she did that she’d forgotten her coat and that’s where she’d slipped the keys to the rental car.

No way was she going back inside that house. Instead, she sprinted past the car and down the street, not even noticing the temps outside until she slowed down to a brisk walk. She hadn’t even felt the tears streaming down her cheeks until she was struck by how cold her face was. Her sweater and jeans were no match for the frigid evening temperature, and once her flushed anger ebbed, she realized she was freezing.

She stopped, automatically shoved her hand into her jeans, then rolled her eyes. She’d slipped her cell phone in her coat pocket, too.

She had no one to blame for this fiasco but herself.

She’d acted like a child in there, tossing accusations and arguing with Ethan just like she had with him before she’d run out of town ten years ago. She had a right to be angry at Ethan. The things he’d said to her were unforgiveable. What she should have done was stand her ground and tell him exactly what she thought of him. But no. She’d had to play the victim and run out of the room all hurt.

The running part she was really good at.

Old hurts and angers. Some things didn’t change, and some hurts could never be repaired. If she was smart, she’d turn around, go back to Ethan’s house and suck up the embarrassment, grab her coat and keys and drive home. It was over a mile walk back to the bed and breakfast and she was not dressed for that.

But dammit, he’d hurt her, and she would not go crawling back there. She had her pride and she refused to humiliate herself any further. It wasn’t like she was going to die in a mile. Uncomfortable, yes. Dead, no. She’d send someone over for the car and her coat tomorrow.

Shivering, it didn’t take a block and a half before her ears began to sting and she was certain her toes were going to end up with frostbite.

What was the temperature outside anyway?

Okay, maybe a mile in this cold was a little far.

When the first snowflakes started to fall, she laughed.

Perfect.

Dumb, Riley, really. Next time you decide to storm off in a huff, grab your coat first.

She saw headlights and wondered if it was someone she knew. She was so cold she’d offer up an autographed guitar to whoever drove her back to the bed and breakfast.

The car slowed and pulled to the curb. She stilled when the window rolled down.

It was Ethan.

“Riley, get in.”

She thought for all of a quarter of a second about telling him to stick it, but she wasn’t that stupid. She was freezing and she was certain she’d lost a few brain cells. She shuffled her frozen body to the car and slid inside.

Thankfully he had the heater blasting, and her coat was on the seat next to her. She pulled it over her. And then he scooted over toward her.

She shot him a look. “Wha…what are you doing?”

“Warming you.” He pulled her against him. “Are you out of your mind running out of the house without a coat? It’s five degrees outside.”

No wonder she thought she was going to die out there.

She wanted to argue with him, but he’d opened his coat and drew her against his chest and he was so damn warm all she could think about was the heat of his body. She was shivering uncontrollably now and couldn’t seem to stop her teeth from chattering.

“I’ll be f…f…fine in a minute. Then you c…can let me go.”

He rubbed her back and hair, his voice gentle. “I know. I will.”

The snow came down harder now, obliterating her vision of the outside. The heater and their breath fogged the windshield and windows, reminding her of what they used to do in his car to steam up the windows. It had a lot to do with body heat, but not because she’d been stupid and walked outside in the cold. Those thoughts and memories coupled with being in his arms again warmed her more than the heater.

“I…I’m…”

“Shhh. Just relax, Riley. Your body is so cold. I’m not going to move this car until you’re warm, so you can just listen to me.”

She was still shaking, so he was probably right.

“I’m sorry. Really sorry. I was out of line. Seems like I’m always hurting you and I never meant to. The things I said were unforgiveable. It was a knee-jerk reaction.”

“More like a jerk reaction.”

He laughed, the sound deep and vibrating against his chest.

“You’re right there. I was a total jerk. For some reason you bring out the worst in me.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Not what I meant. God, Riley, I just make a mess of things when I’m around you, don’t I?”

“You seem to.” She wasn’t going to let him off easy. Not this time.

“If you don’t want me to talk to the television people, I won’t.”

She listened to his heart beating against his chest, so strong and sure. She had always believed in Ethan. From the time she was fourteen years old he’d been her rock, her lifeline, and everything she’d loved.

Until Amanda.

She’d been running away from the answer for so long. It was time to stop and just ask the damn question.

“Tell me about Amanda.”

She felt his heart speed up.

“What do you want to know?”

She lifted her head and met his curious, wary gaze. “Why did you choose her over me? I didn’t even know you were interested in her.”

He offered up a half smile. “I wasn’t. She wanted me.”

Riley frowned. “No she didn’t.”

“Honey, she had a thing for me for years. She wanted me as much as she wanted the career you ended up with.”

She shook her head. “That’s not true. I mean, yes, she was a singer, too. A great singer. Of course that’s the career she was after.”

Riley and Amanda had met in choir freshman year. Amanda had a beautiful voice, clear and strong. Her parents had spent a fortune on private lessons. Amanda intended to go to college and study music. Fame was in her future, she’d told Riley. She wanted to front a rock band, or become a pop star.

She had the chops for it. Riley had been mesmerized by Amanda’s voice. They’d spend hours together at Amanda’s house, harmonizing on songs.

They’d become friends and had been inseparable in all things.

Except Amanda had never had a boyfriend. She said she was too busy with her singing lessons to worry about boys. But she’d never begrudged Riley’s relationship with Ethan, because Riley had always included her. She’d never shut Amanda out, had always tried to fix her up with guys so they could double date. Amanda went, though it was half hearted. Nothing ever came of those dates. Amanda never seemed intrigued enough by any of the guys to end up with a boyfriend, though she was beautiful, with mink brown hair, emerald green eyes and her captivating voice.

“She never told me she was interested in you. She never even dated anyone long term in high school. I didn’t know.”

Ethan nodded. “She didn’t want you to know. She was so jealous of you, Riley. Of your voice, your relationship with me. You had everything she wanted.”

“No. That’s not true. That’s not the Amanda I knew.”

Ethan sighed. “There were parts of her you never knew about. Hell, I didn’t even know about them until after you were gone.”

“Like what?” She couldn’t believe the things he was telling her about Amanda.

“Like her fear that you were more talented than she was, that her voice would never measure up to yours.”

“How can that be? I’d never had training, and she’d been taking voice lessons her whole life. Her singing was beautiful.”

He swept her hair away from her face. “You’ve been in the business long enough to know that all the lessons in the world can’t compete with raw ability. That’s what you had, Riley. You might not have had all the training she had, but you had natural talent, and no training can compare to that. And when it was clear your talent would outshine her, that you were destined for big things, she decided to take the one thing from you she knew she could.”

Riley almost couldn’t say the word out loud, but knew she had to know the truth. “You.”

He nodded.

“How?”

“You sure you want to know all of it?”

“Yes.” Because she refused to believe that Ethan loved her one day and just decided to switch to Amanda the next. Though she had believed it, hadn’t she? She’d spent the past ten years believing it. Maybe it was time she let Ethan tell her what really happened.

“She called me one night in tears. It was right after graduation and she said she’d been turned down for a scholarship to Julliard, the one and only place she really wanted to go.”

“But she’d gotten so many scholarships to so many different schools. She could have chosen from…what? Five or six?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t really know what she was talking about, but you know we’d all gotten close. She was always where you were, so I considered her a friend. I trusted her. I don’t remember where you were. She said she couldn’t get hold of you and there was no one else to talk to, so I went over there to give her some comfort because she was pretty freaked out. We were drinking beer, then whiskey. Her parents were gone, and you know Amanda always had a lot of freedom and access to whatever she wanted. And then we were drinking a lot. I was trying to make her feel better. It was stupid. We were talking and talking and I thought I had relaxed her by making her laugh. Hell, I was drunk as hell. Next thing I know it’s morning. I wake up in bed with Amanda naked next to me, and you’re standing there.”

“Did you have sex with her?”

He shrugged. “No. At least I don’t think I did, but maybe I did. I don’t even remember what happened that night. Does it matter? I shouldn’t have put myself in the position to be alone with her. I should have called you right away. I shouldn’t have been there drinking with her. It was stupid and I let her manipulate me, but I had to take responsibility for being there, even if nothing happened. I knew from the look in your eyes you believed what you saw.”

She had believed it. She and Amanda had plans that morning. Plans Amanda had organized. She’d walked into Amanda’s room and found the boy she loved naked in bed with her best friend.

She’d believed right away what she saw, put two and two together and figured Ethan had slept with Amanda, that Ethan had seduced her best friend. She’d assumed she hadn’t been enough for him, that he’d wanted what Amanda could offer him.

And she’d never spoken to either of them again. Hurt and rage had taken over, and she’d left town the next day without asking for explanations, without seeing Ethan again.

It had been a knee-jerk reaction, a youthful reaction.

“So she manipulated us both.”

“I guess.”

“Why did you marry her?”

“She was pregnant. And it was mine. Or so she told me.”

“You got proof?”

“She showed me the pregnancy test. I had no choice but to believe her. You said it yourself. She was never around other guys.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean she got pregnant after that night?”

“Yeah, I guess, because I didn’t sleep with her again after that.”

“So you did have sex with her.”

He laughed. “I have no idea. I don’t think I did. If I did, I sure as hell don’t remember it, but I wasn’t one hundred percent confident, so I was kind of stuck. I couldn’t deny I was in bed with her that morning.”

“What about her scholarship? Did she really lose it?”

“Doubtful. I think she was just afraid she’d never be as good as you. And she’d taken me away from you, so that was her triumph. So I married her. And then she miscarried a couple months later.”

“I’m sorry, Ethan.”

He dragged his fingers through his hair and laughed. “You know what? So was I at the time. As hurt and angry as I was with her, I was still upset when she lost the baby. I didn’t love her, but I wanted the kid.”

“You didn’t love her?”

“No. I never loved her. I did what was right and took responsibility. I screwed up and I paid the price for making a mess of my life. But I was in love with you, not her.”

Riley’s heart squeezed. She so wanted to believe that. “But you stayed married to her.”

He let out a short laugh. “Yeah. I did.”

“Why?”

He lifted his gaze to hers, the pain in his eyes so raw she wanted to run from it. “Because when I commit to someone, I honor that commitment. I said I was going to be with her until death do us part. That meant something to me.”

Riley blinked back the tears. That was Ethan. Once he had committed to her, he’d stuck by her side. Until she’d left him, hadn’t allowed him to explain what happened that night with Amanda.

“Did you ever love her?”

“I’d like to say yes. You knew her. She might have been a little spoiled, but she had her moments. She was fun and a little wild and crazy. And she could be so sweet and loving. And then we had Zoey.”

Riley smiled. “Zoey is amazing.”

“She is. I’ll always be grateful to Amanda for giving me Zoey. She’s the best part of my life. And Amanda was a wonderful mother. She seemed to settle after we had Zoey. It was almost as if she’d found what she was searching for.”

“And then she got sick.”

He nodded. “It devastated her, knowing she was going to leave Zoey behind. She felt as if that was somehow a punishment for all the lying and hurt she’d caused.”

Riley’s throat constricted. “Oh, God. That’s not fair.”

“She didn’t think it was, either. Neither did I. But we weren’t in charge. And Zoey lost her mother.”

Riley felt sick inside. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. For you, for Amanda and for Zoey.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry. There are so many things I could have done differently that night. When Amanda called, I should have called you to see what was up. I could have tried to find you to make you come over there with me. I didn’t do that. I just assumed what Amanda said, that you weren’t home. And when you ran off that morning after finding us together, I went after you. God, I spent days trying to find you.”

Riley’s heart stuttered. “You did?”

“Of course I did. I searched everywhere. I didn’t know where you went. I was crazy worried about you. But then I thought…you know what? Maybe you’re better off without me. Maybe this is for the best. I was such a fucking coward letting you go. I should have tried harder to find you.”

“Oh, Ethan, I didn’t know you came looking for me.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t enough. I should have tried harder. But look at you now, look at what you’ve done with your life. If I had found you, you might never have all you have now. I can’t regret that for you, you know? Sometimes destiny plays a big part in things. Maybe I was supposed to screw this all up so you could become famous.”

She tilted her head. “Is that some kind of twisted logic?”

“Maybe. It’s not an excuse though. All of this is my fault. And I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough times to make it stop hurting you. I know that. But I’m still sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you, and for what happened with Amanda.”

She saw him in a new light. “That’s a load of heavy burdens you’re carrying.”

His lips curled. “I have wide shoulders.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “We both lost so much. Time, friends, people we loved.”

“But you can’t change the past. It is what it is and I have to live with it.”

She shuddered, realizing that no matter how much she wanted to go back, Ethan was right.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him, needing to give him comfort, and forgiveness. And maybe she needed to give herself a little comfort too for all she’d lost.

Ethan wrapped his arms around Riley while she cried, held her while she grieved for the friend she’d had and lost. He’d long ago cried all he could for losing Amanda. He might not have loved her like a husband should love his wife, but he’d been a good husband to her, a good friend, and he’d never felt guilty for still being in love with Riley after all these years, because while he’d been married to Amanda, she’d been the only woman in his life.

Their lives might not have been perfect, but he’d given her all of himself for the time they had together.

And the two of them had given Zoey the best life they could.

After Riley cried it out, he reached into the glove compartment and handed her a box of tissues. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose and tossed the coat aside. “Now I’m hot.”

He laughed. “Feeling better now?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually this dramatic. You probably think I’m some Nashville diva who throws fits and storms out of houses and, oh, God.” She lifted tear-filled eyes to his. “What your family must think of me.”

“Actually, they thought I was an asshole.”

“They did? Why?”

“Because I was the one who came at you and said all the wrong things. My mother gave me the look.”

“Yikes. Not the look.”

“Yeah. I realized I’d stuck my foot in my mouth right away, but you’d already run out. By the time I ran after you, you were gone. Damn, woman, you’re fast.”

She laughed. “I run for exercise.”

“I went inside to grab my coat and that’s when I saw yours, so I got my keys and came looking for you. So no, my family isn’t mad at you, they’re mad as hell at me. Trust me, I’m in no hurry to go back there.”

She settled back against the seat only to find his arm draped back there. She was plenty warm now and he could have shifted back over to his side of the car, but he hadn’t yet.

Not that she was complaining. She felt like they’d finally gotten past the huge chasm that had stood between them for all these years, at least the one she’d put there.

She tilted her head back and looked into his eyes. God, she could get lost there. She’d spent all of the past ten years on her work, hadn’t had time for serious romance. She hadn’t taken time to look for a man in her life, because first she’d been heartbroken over Ethan, and then she’d put all her energies into building her career. There just never seemed to be light left at the end of the day for love. Writing about it, singing about it, yes. Finding it, no. And maybe she’d been afraid to fall in love, because love could hurt.

With the paparazzi dogging her every move, her life was under a microscope. She couldn’t imagine trying to have her love life scrutinized the same way her career had been. Men in her life had been brief, never anything long term.

But here in Deer Lake, time had seemed to slow down the past few days. No one followed her probably because they knew she was kind of boring. And really, what would they see? It wasn’t like she was in Los Angeles or even Nashville where the possibility of her hooking up with another country music star or even a movie or television star meant a photo op that could generate some buzz. Here there was nothing happening.

At least to the film and print media. But for Riley as she leaned against Ethan’s arm and stared into his eyes, there was plenty happening. A shift in her entire perspective had occurred within a matter of days and hours.

Now what was she supposed to think? Everything she’d believed to be true had been a lie. Old grudges had slipped away, her protective armor torn off, leaving her naked and raw and not sure what to do about feelings she’d kept buried for all these years. They’d suddenly roared to life again, but it was ten years later. Surely she couldn’t still feel the same.

Ethan didn’t feel the same. He’d lived a whole different life while she was gone. He had a child now, different responsibilities. They’d both grown up and grown apart.

But as he swept his hand across her cheek and cupped her neck, his touch sent skittering sensation throughout her body. Her skin flushed with heat.

It might not be love, but the spark was still there, and she needed to explore it. She raised her hand and brushed her fingers across the beard stubble on his jaw, shuddering at the raw desire that filled every part of her from the simple touch of her fingers to his face.

Ethan brushed his lips to hers, a tentative kiss meant to test and explore. The shock of meeting his lips curled her toes. It was an explosion from within and there was nothing tentative about her reaction. She grabbed his jacket and pulled him to her, letting him know that soft and gentle wasn’t at all what she needed. Not when she had ten years of pent-up passion to release. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed her lips to his, deepening the kiss, taking control and letting him know she wanted more.

Suddenly she was on her back on the seat, Ethan looming over her, all his guy parts lined up against all her girl parts and it felt so damn good to be this close to a man again.

Not just any man. Ethan. The first boy she’d loved. Only he wasn’t a boy now, evidenced by the thickness of his muscles, the wide chest and the oh-so-hard evidence of what kissing him and touching him was doing to him.

She could write a song about how good this felt, but she doubted it would ever see airtime. Instead, she concentrated on how he held her, his hand slipping underneath her to cup her butt and lift her against that omigod part of him that reminded her they weren’t kids anymore making out in the front—or back—seat of his car. This was adult stuff and she was ready to act like an adult with him. She’d been robbed of that back then because she hadn’t been ready yet, but she was sure as hell ready to consummate now.

Right now, in fact, parked along the curb in front of who-knew-whose house. Frankly, she didn’t care, because Ethan had one hand tangled in her hair and the other was rubbing her backside while his mouth was doing delicious things to hers and she was afraid she might just have an orgasm right there before any clothes got undone.

And then he vibrated.

Whoa. He was really talented, and if she shifted just a little to the left, those vibrations…

“Dammit,” he said, lifting his head. “My phone’s ringing.”

He shifted, climbing off her and for the first time in a while she felt cold.

“Seriously? Can’t you ignore it?”

He gave her a regretful smile. “It could be about Zoey. Sorry. Give me just a second. He checked the display. “Shit.”

He pressed a button and put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Mom.”

Wow. It was ten years ago.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “No, I found her. She’s fine. We’re just sitting here…talking.” While he listened, he gave her a look that sent her up in flames again. “Yeah, I’m going to bring her back shortly. Okay.”

He pressed the button and tossed the phone on the dash, then dragged his fingers through his hair. “Sorry. Kind of lost myself there for a minute.”

Riley shuddered out a sigh, realizing whatever had been about to happen, or might have happened, wasn’t going to. Not here, not tonight. “It’s okay. I did, too.”

“I’ll drive you back to my parents.”

The only good thing was, Ethan looked as frustrated and regretful as she did.

He hit the defrosters and the windshield wipers and by the time everything cleared, Riley realized how much snow had fallen already.

They took a slow drive back to the house, giving Riley a chance to fix her hair and put on some lip gloss so she didn’t look quite so…ravaged by the time Ethan pulled into the driveway. They made a mad dash to the house where Ethan’s mom was waiting with the door open.

“It’s horrible outside. I was so worried about you.” She enveloped Riley in a hug. “I already sent Brody and Wyatt home, which is where you both need to go before this gets any worse.”

“Yes, Mom,” Ethan said, with a roll of his eyes, then a laugh and a kiss.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together. I blame my son for that.” She glared at Ethan.

“Already discussed and apologized, Mom. Topic’s closed.”

“Okay, okay. You two get on the road.”

“I’ve driven in snow before. I have a four wheel drive, Mom.”

“And I’m still your mother and I’m going to worry. You should drive Riley back to her place.”

“I have an SUV, too, Mrs. Kent,” and at her look, corrected it to, “Stacy. I’m sure I’ll be fine, but thank you.”

“I’ll follow her,” Ethan said. “To make sure she makes it there safe.”

“That’ll make me feel better.” She hugged Riley and Ethan and they were out the door.

Snow pelted her on the face as the wind picked up. “Wow. It’s really coming down.”

“Really, do you need me to drive you back to the B and B?”

“No, it’s not that far. I can make it.”

“Okay.”

He seemed as reluctant to let her go as she was to be let go of. But since Ethan’s mother was peeking through the blinds, she opened her car door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. Later.”

She started the car up. She hadn’t thought about gloves because she was a moron, so gripping the icy cold steering wheel was torture, but she managed to back out of the driveway and made the trek back to the bed and breakfast. She had to admit it gave her some comfort to see Ethan’s SUV behind her the whole way. When she pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car, he waited in the street until she opened the front door and went inside. Only then did he drive off.

Leaving her aching and frustrated. And alone.

She sighed and turned off the lights.

Chapter Seven

There was a holiday celebration at town square tonight, with Christmas carolers, ice skating on the makeshift rink, a parade and, of course, Santa. It was one of Zoey’s favorite parts of the holiday, though Ethan wasn’t sure if it was because of all the events that took place at town square or because she knew that meant Christmas was only a couple days away. Either way, he loved watching the joy in her eyes. He fed off her excitement and this was the event that always got him in the mood for Christmas.

Because it had snowed, the whole town had a holiday look to it, which made everything perfect. Wreaths hung on every street light, banners and lights decorated every store front, and with the seven inches of snow they’d gotten the entire town looked like something out of a Christmas movie.

Zoey had spent the past couple days building snowmen in the yard, complete with black button eyes, tattered scarves, carrot noses and red gumdrops for the mouths. It had stayed cold enough that Mr. and Mrs. Snowpeople were still standing, which thrilled Zoey even more and thankfully had given her something to do so she hadn’t bugged him nonstop about when Christmas was.

The only drawback to this extravaganza was that Riley would be singing.

Not that there was anything wrong with her singing. It was just that he’d been kind of avoiding her since two nights ago in the car when he’d totally lost his mind and climbed all over her. Fortunately she’d been busy wrapping up all her biography stuff since then and he hadn’t run into her.

Today was supposed to be her last event, a filmed thing where she would sing a medley of Christmas songs from her last holiday CD. Everyone from town would be there, Riley would sing after the parade, and then she and her entire crew would pack up and go, along with all the media.

So really, what had been the point of refiring the past between them, except to remind him that the two of them were worlds apart and he still couldn’t have her?

He didn’t deserve to have her.

Besides, there was Zoey to think about. Her life was here in Deer Lake where his family was. Where Zoey’s family was. Riley’s life was somewhere else, probably always on the road on that big tour bus of hers.

And even though he’d driven home the long way to get his riotous libido under control that night, and he’d been thinking about Riley nonstop ever since, especially about that hot interlude in the car and how it had felt to remap her body with his hands, it was pointless.

She was going her way soon, and he was staying here.

With his daughter.

So despite wanting to call her the next day, or go over to the bed and breakfast to see her, he hadn’t. Because his life was reality, not fantasy.

And since Riley had left, the icy cold hand of reality had firmly clenched him in its grip.

“Daddy, I want to go ice skating.”

He looked down at his adorable daughter who looked like a puffy pink marshmallow in her pink coat, pink hat and pink mittens. He’d done her hair in pigtail braids this morning and she’d insisted on puffy pink bands to hold them. She even wore pink boots.

The girl liked her some pink.

“We’ll go ice skating later. The parade’s about to start. You don’t want to miss it, do you?”

Her eyes got big and wide. “Oh. No. Let’s go, Daddy.”

She tugged on his hand and dragged him toward the center island of town where the parade ended. They were lucky and found a bench to sit on, a perfect viewing area for the parade. They were joined shortly by his mom and dad and brothers.

“It’s cold as a well digger’s—”

“Brody,” his mother warned, casting her glance to Zoey.

“Shovel,” Brody finished with a tweak of Zoey’s nose.

Zoey giggled.

Wyatt shoved his hands in his pockets, turned up the collar of his coat and looked about as happy to be there as he would be if he was having a root canal.

But missing the annual town Christmas event would somehow be a direct insult to their mother, and even Wyatt wouldn’t do that, no matter how much he hated the world these days.

When you lived in a small town, parades weren’t exactly like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade in New York City. They didn’t go on for hours. You had the cops because they could run their sirens and all the kids liked that. And the fire department, too. Then there were the middle school and high school bands, a few local clubs like Rotary and Knights of Columbus, some private organizations and businesses who put some holiday floats together, and that was pretty much it.

And then came Santa on his big float at the end, waving from on top of his makeshift chimney. Dave Bowman was doing a fine job as Santa this year, and Ethan suspected Dave’s rosy cheeks were due to the shot or two of whiskey Ethan had seen him downing at McGuffey’s Tavern prior to the start of the parade.

The Santa float was always the biggest hit with the kids, since Santa’s “elves” tossed candy. There was Tori dressed as an elf in her green stockings and short skirt, her flaming red hair a perfect compliment to the whole elf gig.

“Damn,” Brody whispered. “Her skirt is short enough that every time she bends over, you can see—”

Brody whistled instead. Tori shot him an evil glare and threw candy at his head.

“Maybe you shouldn’t look.” Ethan suggested.

“And maybe I should.” Brody unwrapped the candy, popped it in his mouth and walked away.

The parade over, the crowds milled around for a while. Zoey amused herself by playing a few games, ice skating and, of course, eating. Chairs were being set up at the town center gazebo area for Riley’s concert. The television crews were in hot turnout today, no doubt because it was the weekend and that meant people from surrounding areas would come, increasing attendance.

Great. Good for the town, Ethan supposed, but it just meant more crowds.

“Riley Jensen is going to sing today, Daddy.”

He smiled indulgently at his daughter. “I know.”

“There’s no backstage today, because she’s gonna sing on a stage that has no back.” Zoey giggled.

“So I noticed. We’ll just hang out here and listen, okay?”

“Do you think Riley Jensen will see us all the way back here? It’s kinda far.”

“I think she’ll probably be a little busy, but maybe she’ll be looking for you. You can stand on your chair and wave to her while she’s singing. But no talking, because that would be rude.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

When it looked like people were starting to claim seats, Ethan moved in with his parents and brothers. Tori had joined them, too, along with one of her friends. They made it about three quarters of the way back since it was pretty well packed in. Damn there were a lot of people here.

“Daddy, I can’t see,” Zoey whined.

His kid needed a nap. As soon as Riley finished singing, they were outta here.

“It’s the best we can do, muffin,” he said, tugging on one of her pigtails. “Sorry.”

Then his phone buzzed, an unfamiliar number.

“Hey, Ethan, it’s Joann, Riley’s publicist. Are you here at the festival?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Riley has the front row saved for you and your family if you want to watch the concert.”

“Oh. We’re already seated, kind of in the back.”

“Then come on up front. I’ll be waiting here to seat you.”

“Okay.”

He hung up and turned to his mom. “That was Riley’s publicist. She has the front row saved for us.”

“Oh, isn’t that nice,” his mom said, then herded the family up and out of their chairs and toward the front row.

Zoey, of course, was thrilled. And the view was much better up here in the front row. What he didn’t care for was having to endure knowing looks, encouraging nods and smirks from everyone as they made their way up there.

Great.

“Hey, didn’t know you and Riley were back together.” Mark Roberts patted him on the back. “Nice going, man.”

“We’re just so thrilled for you and Riley, Ethan,” Callie Roberts said.

Ethan half turned. “It’s not like that. She likes Zoey and wanted to make sure she could see. Plus she’s known my parents for a long time.”

Callie gave him a sly grin. “Sure, honey. Whatever you say.”

Ugh. Zoey was bouncing in her seat waiting for the concert to begin and telling everyone around her that she was Riley Jensen’s new best friend. Even his own mother had gotten into the act, sharing that he and Riley had “gone out” alone together the other night.

Maybe Ethan could just slip out and go home.

But then Riley and her band came out, and damn if his libido didn’t tie him to the chair, because she looked gorgeous in tight blue jeans, sinfully sexy thigh high boots, a wide-open suede jacket and a shirt that clung to her curves. She’d worn her hair down. It swept her shoulders in loose waves and all he could think about was how good she’d smelled the other night when he’d held her close and kissed her and touched her. And oh, man, he was sitting next to his mother and thinking about having sex with Riley.

He was probably going straight to hell for that.

At least this time she wasn’t singing about him. It was all Christmas songs, and Zoey couldn’t help but sing along, despite his mother’s best attempts to admonish her to stay quiet. But Riley smiled down at Zoey, since his daughter wasn’t exactly a quiet singer. Fortunately, she did have a great voice and Riley finally motioned to her to join her on stage. And since his daughter didn’t have a shy bone in her entire body, she got to stand with the choir and sing her little heart out along with Riley and the choir.

His mother took approximately ten thousand pictures. Plus video.

Ethan had to admit he was pretty excited about it, too, though it wasn’t like he thought of Riley as a celebrity. She was just Riley. But he was always thrilled to see his daughter happy, and Zoey was grinning from ear to ear, especially when one of the choir angels put her halo on Zoey head.

Zoey probably wouldn’t touch ground from her happy place for at least twenty-four hours.

After the concert, Zoey jumped into his arms. “Did you see me, Daddy? I got to sing on the stage.”

“I saw you. You were awesome.”

“Did you hear me? I sang really loud.”

He laughed as Riley joined them. “I had no problem hearing you.”

Riley rubbed Zoey’s back. “This young lady has a beautiful voice, just like her mama did.”

Zoey frowned. “Did you know my mama, Riley Jensen?”

Riley lifted her chin and Ethan could tell she fought tears. “I did. She was my best friend in high school.”

“Wow.” Zoey turned to Ethan. “I didn’t know that, Daddy. Did you know that?”

“I did.” He put Zoey down and lifted his gaze to Riley. “You did a nice job out there tonight.”

“Thanks. I’m just glad all this is over with.” She swept her gaze over the camera crews who were packing up.

“Everyone leaving?”

“They are.”

He frowned. “You’re not?”

She shrugged. “I’ve sprung my people loose. Figured I’d hang out here until after the holidays and write some music.”

“By yourself?” his mother asked.

Riley smiled. “Yes. Everyone has their families to go home to. I plan to stay and enjoy the solitude. I do my best songwriting that way. No one to hover over me and no place I have to be.”

What she hadn’t said, Ethan noted, was that Riley had no family to go home to for Christmas.

“You’ll come to our house for Christmas,” his mother said, taking the words right out of his mouth.

Riley’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. I wasn’t trying to wrangle an invitation. I really do intend to just spend a couple weeks alone and write.”

“That’s just fine, dear. You do that. On Christmas Eve you’ll come over for dinner and games. Christmas morning we have pancakes for breakfast, turkey for dinner. You won’t be spending Christmas alone.”

Riley slanted a helpless gaze his way.

“No use arguing with her. You know how she is. If you don’t come over she’ll just send one of us to fetch you.”

She inhaled and let out a sigh, then smiled. “Of course. Thank you, Stacy. I’d love to come over for Christmas.”

Ethan wondered how many holidays Riley had spent alone the past ten years. She’d never come home before so he had no idea where she’d spent her Thanksgivings and Christmases.

It would be…interesting spending Christmas with her. And okay, maybe he was thinking about carving out some time to be alone with her.

They might not have a future together, but they had right now.

He looked down at Zoey, who leaned against his mother and yawned. “Mom, why don’t you and Dad take Zoey home? She looks tired. I’d like to hang out with Riley for a bit.”

He knew his mother would jump all over that one. “Of course. Come on, little miss. Time for bed for you.”

Ethan picked up Zoey and gave her a kiss.

“Night, Daddy.”

“Night, muffin.”

She turned sleepy eyes on Riley. “Night, Riley Jensen. I love you.”

Riley’s eyes sparkled with tears as she pulled Zoey into her arms. “Good night, Zoey. I love you, too.”

As they walked away, Riley lifted her eyes to Ethan. “She’s an amazing child. You’re very lucky.”

“Thanks. I think so.”

“And she really does have a beautiful voice. So clear and perfectly on key.”

“She gets that from Amanda because if you recall I can’t sing for shit.”

Riley laughed. “Your singing is great.” At his dubious look, she said, “Hey, at least you sing on key.”

“Okay, maybe that, but Nashville isn’t going to come calling to offer me a record deal anytime soon, so I’m grateful Zoey got her singing genes from her mom.”

“Me too.”

He looked around and realized it had gotten dark. The crowds had thinned.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked.

“No.” He took her hand. “I want to take you ice skating.”

Her brows lifted and she grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t been ice skating in years.”

“Good.”

The rink had been poured in the middle of town on one of the grassy fields behind the high school. Ethan had a hand in prepping and building it, and God knows it was plenty cold enough to sustain it. Proceeds from the sale of admissions and concessions would be split between the women’s shelter and the new field stands at the high school.

“I’m not sure I even remember how to skate,” Riley said as she finished lacing up.

“Oh come on. You never forget. You were always good at it.”

“Ha. I think it’s something you definitely forget. Plus I’m a lot older now.”

He rolled his eyes and took her hand as they headed over to the ice entrance. “You’re still plenty young and you bounce around on that stage like you’re fifteen, so don’t give me any of that ‘older now’ crap. Let’s skate.”

He rolled out onto the ice and turned to face her. She gave him an arched brow, hanging onto the entrance. “I don’t bounce.”

He laughed and held out his hand. “Yeah, you do. Like you have springs on your feet. If you don’t believe me, check out concert footage. Now come on.”

She took his hand and tentatively slid out onto the rink. She was a little wobbly at first as she fought for balance, but he held onto her, his hand around her waist. Not that he minded holding her close.

“Do you remember ice skating at the park on Friday nights?”

She grinned up at him, slipped and her eyes widened.

“I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

She stared up at him and her eyes, so clear and full of trust, were like a punch to his gut.

They glided along and she finally got her balance. “Yes, I remember skating nights in the winter. You, me, Amanda—all our friends. Even on the coldest nights we’d skate, then have hot chocolate and pretzels.”

He laughed, remembering it. “You and Amanda would try to lead the whip and fail miserably.”

She pulled out of his grasp, finally confident enough to skate on her own, though she stayed close enough to grab onto his arm whenever she started to wobble. “Hey, we were good at the whip.”

“You sucked at it and made everyone crash into the wall.”

“We did not. You have a faulty memory. When you led you deliberately crashed us into the wall.”

“Now who has the faulty memory? I whipped you all around until you squealed like…girls.”

She giggled. “Those were fun times.”

Ethan turned and skated backwards, facing her.

“Show off.”

“Zoey can do it, too.”

“Oh, sure, make me feel bad.”

“We skate at the park a lot.”

She lifted her gaze to his, her hand on his arm. Did she even realize she leaned on him? Probably not.

“The rink is still open?”

“Yeah. Zoey loves to skate. She and Amanda…”

“It’s okay, Ethan. You can talk about her.”

“She and Amanda loved to skate together on the weekends.” His chest felt tight.

Riley moved to the side wall and held on. Ethan followed.

“Does it hurt you to talk about her?”

“Not really. The pain has mostly passed now. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

She shook her head. “I want to know about her, about the two of you and your life with Zoey. There’s so much I missed out on.”

He tucked an errant hair into her hat. “I think that would just be uncomfortable for you.”

She shrugged. “We can’t pretend it didn’t happen. The best thing to do is get it all out in the open and talk about it. Then there won’t be any more secrets between us.”

And then what, he wanted to ask, but didn’t.

Because there would be no “then what?” Riley was looking for closure, and nothing more. He owed her that much.

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your life with Amanda.”

He shrugged. “Not much to tell. We got married. Struggled at first. We had to get jobs, work full time and I was trying to take classes, too. Then it was hard after she miscarried. There was a lot of mistrust. I didn’t believe she was pregnant in the first place and she knew it, but once she showed me proof of her pregnancy I was committed, so we worked at the marriage, day by day.”

“Did you believe the baby was yours?”

“No. I asked her for a DNA test. We were going to do the test but she had to be farther along. Then she miscarried before we could make it happen. So I’ll never know if the baby was mine or not. If there was a baby.”

“That must have been difficult for both of you. Hard to have a relationship without trust.”

“It is. But eventually she mellowed, wasn’t as high strung as she’d been when you knew her.”

Riley nodded. “A lot of that came from her parents pushing her so hard. They wanted everything for her.”

He smiled. “That didn’t stop. They were so pissed about the whole pregnancy and marriage thing, accused me of seducing her and trapping her here. They hated me.”

Riley stepped off the ice and Ethan followed. They took off their skates and turned them in. “Let’s order a pizza and head back to the B and B to continue this talk. Unless you have to be somewhere else? Do you have to pick up Zoey?”

“No. She’s fine at my mom’s. I’ll just call her and have her keep Zoey for the night.”

“Okay.”

Once they got the pizza, they went to the bed and breakfast. Since Riley had rented the place out and all her people had left, she was alone.

“Aren’t Bill and Macy here?”

“No. They’re vacationing for the holidays in Colorado with their kids. We took over the whole house from them.”

“So you’re entirely alone in this big place?”

She grinned and grabbed plates from the kitchen cabinet, then laid out slices of pizza. “All by myself. You have no idea how awesome that is. I’m never alone.”

“Huh. Never thought about that. You probably have people around you all the time.”

She dug into a slice and moaned. “You have no idea. Oh, this is good.”

“Catarina’s is a new place. Opened up about a year ago. Cat’s family is from Italy and let me tell you, every pizza they make is amazing.”

Riley looked as if she’d died and gone to heaven. She dug into the pizza as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. They each had a beer and didn’t talk much while they enjoyed their food.

“Okay,” she said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “So Amanda’s parents hated you because they thought you trapped their daughter into marriage.”

He took a long pull off the bottle of beer, then set it down. “Yeah. Amanda tried to tell them it wasn’t my fault, but you know how they were.”

“Yeah, I know. They weren’t fond of me, either. Thought I wasn’t the right kind of friend for their daughter.”

“They always thought they were more upper crust than they actually were. I mean this is Deer Lake, not Boston or New York. And yeah, her father came from money, but he was no industry giant, either.”

She shrugged. “Amanda was never influenced by it. A little spoiled, but she and I had always been great friends. I still can’t believe she was jealous of me.”

“She was. She had a great voice, but it could never match yours. She was envious. And when you went off and became famous, she was so jealous. She wanted your life in a way that I don’t think she ever got over.”

Riley pushed her beer aside then lifted her gaze to his. “But she had you. So which one of us was the real winner?”

Ethan stared at her. He had no words, no answer, for what she’d just said. “Riley.”

What he saw in her eyes was truth. And forgiveness, which was what he needed more than anything, but didn’t deserve.

He reached out and took her hand, swirling his thumb over the softness of her skin. In his line of work he dealt with steel and wood and only the roughest raw materials. But the raw material that was Riley was nothing short of perfection. She was silk and gloss, her skin a creamy glow. Not even the harsh fluorescent lights of the kitchen could spoil her beauty, the way her eyes caught and reflected so much of who she was. He saw such innocence there, and such strength. She’d been through so much, had forged her destiny on her own with no one backing her or pushing her to succeed.

Satin over steel.

“Ethan,” she whispered, and he saw need and desire, no longer the girl she once was, but a woman.

A woman he wanted.

He stood, pulling her into his arms, his mouth covering hers, drawing in her gasp, then her moan.

All he’d been thinking about since that night in the car was kissing her again, touching her again, feeling her body pressed against his. She slid her hands in his hair and tugged, igniting his passion like dry timber catching fire.

All the careful consideration he’d given about keeping his distance went up in a puff of smoke as soon as their lips met. They crashed together, her hands went under his shirt and the logical part of his mind went blank. All thought fled south and the thinking part of his brain settled firmly in his pants.

He wanted Riley. Hell, he’d always wanted her.

And now he was going to have her. They had the house to themselves, the night to themselves, and nothing was going to stop this now.

* * *

A bombardment of sensations made Riley’s breath catch. Ethan’s scent—fresh soap mingled with the crisp outdoors, the satiny steel of his chest as she held onto him for support, his groan as he kissed her. She buried her face in his chest as he pushed her up against the kitchen wall.

Oh, my. This was hard passion, a need that had gone too long without being met. Their mouths and tongues tangled while they fumbled with clothing. Boots were kicked off in a hurry and she grabbed for the button of his jeans while he reached for hers, the only sounds in the quiet house their own harsh breaths as they fought to get each other undressed.

Ethan fumbled for the buttons on her flannel shirt, then ripped them, the sound of buttons flying across the wood floor only adding fuel to her steadily rising fire. She raised his shirt over his head, taking a few seconds to marvel at the sculpted abs, the wide expanse of his shoulders and chest. That’s all he’d give her before he kissed her again, hard, shoving her back against the wall and lifting her legs. She wrapped them around him, hard meeting soft.

He ripped her panties and she delighted in the feral hunger he had for her. She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged as he entered her, making her cry out with the sheer delight of feeling him inside her. This was what she’d wanted her whole life, what she’d needed. This connection, this fire.

Ethan.

She came almost immediately, and rode the wave while he pushed her to the edge again and again, his mouth on her lips, her throat, his tongue blazing a trail of hot sensation she could barely endure but never wanted to end. And when she climbed to the edge and fell over again, he fell with her, this time his mouth taking hers in a searing kiss that left them both shaky and breathless.

And still, he held her, the corded muscles of his arms able to take her weight as he balanced her against the wall.

When she could find her voice again, all she could manage was, “Wow.”

“Sorry. Not a finessed moment.”

She swept his hair off his brow. “It was a wow moment. It was perfect.”

He grinned, kissed her and set her down. Riley fixed them something to drink, then they gathered their clothes and went upstairs to the bedroom.

Ethan seemed comfortable wandering the house naked. Then again, why not? It was just the two of them and oh, man, he was magnificent. She could tell he worked his body hard, and he had the best ass she’d ever seen.

Riley remembered their makeout sessions used to be all hands and mouths and couldn’t get enough of each other, but they’d never made love. Maybe that’s what had hurt so much about finding him in Amanda’s bed that morning. Amanda had had him, and she hadn’t.

She forced thoughts of Amanda out of her head, refusing to let the past intrude on the present. She couldn’t go back and change what was. Now was what she was interested in, and right now Ethan was hers.

Only hers.

They climbed onto the bed together and Ethan dragged her against him.

“Let’s try to slow things down this time,” he said.

“I thought last time was pretty good.”

“It was, but I want to touch all of you this time, linger over you.”

She shuddered out a sigh when he brushed his lips across hers, then drew her in for a hungry kiss that melted her to the sheets.

As he slid his fingers up her ribcage, she was afraid she was going to slide right off the bed from the sheer pleasure of it. He pulled his lips away and she felt consumed by the raw hunger in his eyes, the need she saw reflected there.

She’d missed so much with Ethan, had hesitated all those years ago and she’d lost him. And she might not really have him now, but she was going to have him tonight, even if she didn’t tomorrow. She wanted this one night with him no matter what happened after that.

And now it was her chance to explore, too, to lay her palms over his chest and let them wander over the rock-hard steel of his abdomen. The solid, muscular feel of him was so different than when he’d been a boy. This was a man’s body, the sculpted angles and planes telling her what he did for a living.

And below his belly, she wound her fingers around him, rewarded with a slow hiss of his breath.

This was a new side to their relationship, the adult side, something they’d never had before. When she was younger she’d been tentative, innocent, not knowing what to ask for.

Now she knew exactly what she wanted.

All of him.

He rolled her onto her back and climbed on top of her, kissing the spot between her neck and shoulder that drove her crazy, before lazily mapping her body with his lips, from her collarbone to her breasts. And when he reached her breasts he took his damn sweet time, torturing her with nips and kisses and bites that had her arching her back and crying out for more.

Bastard. She loved every second of what he did to her, was damp and ready for him again in seconds. She raised her arms out for him, but he only chuckled and laid them on the bed, holding them there while he kissed her ribs, her belly, working his way between her legs, nudging them apart with his shoulders, then putting his mouth on her sex to pleasure her until her mind no longer worked, until her back bowed and she muttered unintelligible words as she cried out with a shattering climax that left her shaking all over.

And when his face came into view again, he gave her a satisfied smile, rolled her onto her side facing him and lifted her leg over his hip. He entered her and this time it was slow and achingly sweet—at least in the beginning.

She touched his face, her fingertips tracing his lips as he stroked her so gently it almost moved her to tears. Having Ethan inside her, being one with him, was what she’d always wanted. They were meant to be together like this.

Passion rose in a hurry, and soon she was scraping her nails down his arm, and he gripped her hips and drew her hard against his thrusts. It seemed there could be no light and easy between them, because they had held off for too long, and the desire they felt had to be satisfied in the most primal of ways.

She demanded, and he gave, and when they both shattered, it was wrapped around each other, bodies, mouths and souls.

They played all night long, stopping only to eat a snack in the pre dawn hours.

They went to sleep tangled together like two people who’d been apart for so long they never wanted to lose sight of each other.

Riley wondered briefly what the next day would bring, then decided she just didn’t care, because they’d had tonight, and that’s all that mattered.

Chapter Eight

Ethan spent Christmas Eve morning at the office, something that didn’t make his mother too happy.

But he needed to get a few loose ends tied up, plus he just wanted some time alone with his thoughts since for some reason his mother had let everyone know he’d spent the night with Riley. Which meant nudges and winks from Brody and smiles from his Dad. Wyatt just shook his head and called him a dumbass.

He didn’t want any of it, just some peace and quiet to think about what it all meant.

After a couple hours of mulling it over, he realized it meant nothing. Because after Christmas Riley would be going back to Nashville, where she had a life and a blockbuster career. He’d be staying in Deer Lake where he had a job, a family and a daughter to raise.

The fact he was still in love with her didn’t enter the picture of her world at all, nor should it.

He knew he should have kept his distance. In fact, it would have been better if he hadn’t seen her at all. Then all the old feelings he’d had for her wouldn’t have come rushing back.

It was payback for hurting her. Because when she left, it was going to hurt like hell and it was going to be just like ten years ago all over again. The heartbreak he’d experienced when he’d gone out searching and couldn’t find her, couldn’t explain to her what had happened. The loss, the anguish, the wish that he could find her and bring her back home.

But this wasn’t her home anymore and never would be again.

What would she do in a tiny town like Deer Lake? What did Ethan have to offer her now that she was rich and famous? She already had everything.

There was nothing he had to give her that she didn’t already have.

He dug into his paperwork and shut down the dumbass thoughts in his head.

* * *

Riley had spent entirely too much time primping for Christmas Eve. A ridiculous amount of time considering when she wasn’t on tour she never fussed with her appearance. She loved downtime because it meant no hairdressers or makeup artists hovering around putting false eyelashes on her and doing her hair “up to there.”

So when she had time off, it meant straight hair and no makeup. No high-heeled boots, no glitter, and absolutely nothing with sequins.

Absent the glitter, sequins and high-heeled boots, she had styled her hair and put on makeup. She’d put on her favorite pair of black jeans, a tight sweater and a pair of fancy boots.

She twirled in the mirror and thought about changing clothes, then realized she wasn’t going on a date, she was going to Ethan’s parents’ house to spend Christmas Eve with his entire family.

But her heart still fluttered with excitement when the doorbell rang.

She ran downstairs, flung the door open and saw Ethan’s smiling face.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, yourself.”

Despite all they’d shared last night—and again this morning before he’d left—she still didn’t know where they stood.

Until he stepped inside and dragged her into his arms for a body-melting kiss that left her dizzy.

“Nice to see you too,” she said when he let her go. “I missed you today.”

“I worked for a while at the office, then had the obligatory help-the-parents-get-ready-for-Christmas Eve thing. How was your day?”

She loved that he asked as she went to grab her coat. “I did a little writing. It was a productive day.”

He helped her put her coat on and they walked outside. It was cold and the skies were dark, no sign of stars. Maybe it would snow for Christmas, which would be delightful.

“Glad it was a good day for you.”

She slid into the car and waited for him to get inside. “I don’t think it could have been anything but a perfect day after last night.”

The smile he directed at her was dazzling. And promising. “I’m glad.”

Still, they hadn’t talked about last night or what it had meant or where they’d go from here. Riley tried not to make more of it than what it was—really great sex between two people who’d known each other for a very long time.

And maybe it had seemed like more at the time—more of a soul-type connection. But she was both a woman and a songwriter, a lethal combination. Women were emotional by nature, and artists tended to throw their hearts and souls into everything they did, whereas Ethan had probably just wanted to get laid.

So she should probably stop turning last night into the holy grail of lovemaking experiences, when to Ethan it had likely just been a night of decent sex.

“You’re kind of quiet over there,” he said as they pulled into his parents’ driveway.

“Oh, just thinking of some lyrics. Hard to turn off the job sometimes.”

He laughed. “I know how that is.”

They went inside and Riley was assaulted by a three-foot whirlwind with dark hair in a ponytail. “Riley Jensen! You’re here!”

Ethan took her coat with an apologetic look and leaned in to whisper. “Sorry. You’ll get no peace tonight. She kind of adores you.”

She grinned and whispered back. “It’s okay. The feeling is mutual.”

“Miss Zoey. How are you tonight?”

“Did you know Santa is coming tonight? You have to go to bed early or he won’t come to your house. Where is your house, Riley Jensen?”

“I’m staying at the bed and breakfast over on Conner Street. Do you think Santa will be able to find me?” Riley said as she and Zoey wandered into the living room.

“Santa can always find you.”

Everyone was there already. Wyatt and his scowling face, Brody and his amused one, and Ethan’s parents, who grinned and enveloped her in a huge hug.

They had dinner, then spent the evening playing board games and cards, then watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas, both the half-hour cartoon version and the movie version because Zoey loved both. And so did Riley. She and Zoey snuggled together on the sofa, laughing at the Grinch, then feeling bad because he was misunderstood.

As Zoey scooted closer and held Riley’s hand, it occurred to her how much she’d missed out on, and how much she craved a family of her own someday.

Or now.

Family. She fell into it and welcomed it for as long as she had it.

This wasn’t her family. Zoey wasn’t her daughter, and Ethan wasn’t hers to keep. After Christmas she had to head back to Nashville, and Ethan and Zoey’s lives were here.

She couldn’t have everything.

* * *

There were no television cameras, no photographers, and as Ethan watched Riley snuggled up on the sofa with his daughter, his heart clenched. Riley had scooped her hair up into a ponytail, kicked off her boots and thrown a blanket over her and Zoey, both of them yawning as they watched television.

She’d wriggled into his family as if she belonged there, as if she’d never left. She threw Brody’s zingers right back at him, ignored Wyatt’s bad moods, and helped out with cooking and serving dinner and then the dishes, never once acting as if she were a superstar or a diva.

And then she’d sat on the floor cross-legged and played with his daughter. For hours. Not out of any sense of obligation, but as if she’d truly enjoyed playing with a seven-year-old. They’d done puzzles, sang together, read together, played dolls and even make-believe fairies. Riley hadn’t once acted as if it were a chore to play with his kid. She’d seemed to be having a great time with Zoey.

Now they curled up together on the sofa watching a movie. Riley stroked Zoey’s hair as his daughter’s eyes drifted closed, and so did Riley’s. They looked comfortable together, right together, as if they belonged to each other.

Shit.

He was making something out of nothing. Riley was being polite, was being herself. And Zoey had a monster case of hero worship. Though she didn’t take to women all that well. Ethan had tried dating a few times, had included Zoey once or twice, and while Zoey was friendly, she didn’t have mad love for the women like she did with Riley. And despite Riley’s star status, he didn’t think Zoey would be snuggled up against her like this if she didn’t have feelings for her, considering Zoey’s bullshit meter and all, which was outstanding. The kid just knew whether someone genuinely cared or not.

Which was just making the fact Riley would leave them both even harder. He should separate them before his daughter got hurt. He could handle it. Zoey wouldn’t understand it.

Coward that he was, he went into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee, and found his mother pulling down plates from the cabinet.

“Let me help you.”

He reached the top cabinet and pulled the plates down.

“Thank you. And why aren’t you in there watching television with Riley and Zoey?”

“They’re both asleep. Or almost asleep.”

“Aww, how sweet. Zoey really likes her.”

“Too much, I think.”

His mother frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means when Riley leaves town it’s going to hurt her. I need to put a stop to the two of them getting any closer.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare, Ethan Kent. I never thought of you as a coward before.”

He backed up a step. “What do you expect me to do, Mom? Riley will be leaving after the holidays. And by then Zoey will think she can keep her.”

“Oh, I see.” She pushed the plates to the side and pulled out a chair, then pointed to another. Ethan sat. “We’re not really talking about Zoey now, are we?”

“Yes, we are.”

“Okay, we’re not talking only about Zoey. You’re afraid for your own heart, too.”

He shrugged. “I’m a big boy. I can take it. She’s just a kid. She won’t understand.”

“You still love her.”

“I’ve always loved her. I never stopped.”

She laid her hand over his. “It’s okay to feel that way. Have you told Riley how you feel?”

“What good would that do? She still has to leave.”

“But you never told her before. Maybe it’s time you do. Maybe it’ll make a difference.”

He laughed. “No, it won’t.”

“See, that’s always been your problem, Ethan.”

“What’s my problem?”

“Guilt. It’s been your best friend for so long you don’t know how to live without it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you? First it was guilt over the whole Amanda thing. It kept you from seriously trying to find Riley. Then it was Amanda’s pregnancy, so you ended up staying married to her when maybe you shouldn’t have.”

“If I hadn’t stayed married to Amanda, I wouldn’t have Zoey.”

“That’s true, and we’re all grateful for Zoey. But what about what you want, Ethan?”

“I have everything I want.”

“No, you don’t, and you’re once again going to let guilt decide for you. You feel guilty for letting Riley down. You’re still feeling guilty about it, and it’ll keep you from thinking you’re good enough to ask her to stay.”

“It’s not the same thing at all this time, Mom.”

“Isn’t it? You’re going to let her go without letting her know how you feel. To me it’s the same thing.”

“I need to take her home.”

His mother nodded, then stood and came over to him, wrapped his face in her hands. “I have faith in you, Ethan. I think it’s time you had faith in yourself and what you have to offer.”

“I can’t compete with what she already has.”

Her eyes twinkled as she smiled. “Can’t you?”

She kissed his cheek and let him go.

When he walked in to the living room, his heart turned over at the sight of Riley’s head lying on top of Zoey’s, both of them sound asleep.

And then he thought about what his mother said.

Riley was going to spend the holidays alone. She had no family. How many Thanksgivings and Christmases did she do that? What must that be like for her, to send her crew home to their families, then go home to an empty house for the holidays?

Ethan had his mother, father, brothers, and he had Zoey. He was wrapped up in the warmth and love of family surrounding him, not just at the holidays, but every single day of his life.

As he looked down at Riley and Zoey huddled together, he realized maybe there was something he had to offer.

But would Riley even want that? Maybe she was content with the life she’d created for herself.

He swept his daughter up and took her upstairs to the bedroom where she slept at his mom’s. They were going to have Christmas over here in the morning, so she’d spend the night here anyway. He tucked her in, kissed her forehead and swept her hair away from her face.

“I love you, Zoey,” he whispered, then turned out the light. She pulled her snuggly bear close to her and he smiled, then closed the door partway.

One beautiful girl down, one to go.

Riley was still out, so he slid on the sofa next to her. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”

She moaned, then turned on her side.

“Time to wake up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

He laughed, then nuzzled her neck with a kiss. “You want to sleep on the couch tonight? You might get a peek at Santa. Or is it the cookies and milk you’re after?”

She giggled. “You’ve spoiled my master plan.” She turned over and tunneled her fingers into his hair, pressing her lips against his.

“If you’re going to start something, we should head to your place.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re at my parents and my mom is in the kitchen.”

“Oh. Good point. Okay.” She pushed off his chest, yawned and stretched.

With her hair half sticking out of her ponytail and a sleepy look on her face, she was devastating to his senses.

She stumbled into her boots, went into the kitchen to say good-night to his mother, and they climbed into their coats. But instead of heading over to the B and B, he took her to his house.

She turned to look at him when he pulled into the driveway.

“I wanted you to see my place.”

She smiled. “I’d love to.”

“It’s nothing fancy. Nothing like your house in Nashville.”

She reached for his hand. “Ethan. Don’t compare Nashville and here. It’s never about money. It’s about home and what makes you happy.”

She opened the car door and stepped out, staring at the house. “I wish it was daylight. Did you build the house?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s lovely. I’m sure Amanda loved it.”

“This isn’t the house where Amanda and I lived.”

She turned to him, frowning. “It’s not?”

“No. After she died I wanted a fresh start, didn’t want those memories clouding mine and Zoey’s life. Plus the house we had was tiny. So I built this place.”

He tried to imagine what Riley would think of it. It wasn’t oversized. It was a two story, gray and white, with a nice-sized back yard.

“I love all the trees. And the porch. I love porches.”

He opened the front door and turned the lights on, let Riley walk in.

“Oh, Ethan, this is nice. The marble tile is beautiful.”

“Being in construction has its advantages. I get a lot of stuff at cost, or not much markup. So I got to upgrade a lot.”

She was already steps ahead of him. “This kitchen is magnificent! Double oven, granite counters. Ethan, I can’t believe you built this. It’s every woman’s dream.”

He smiled at that. “Glad you think so. My mom had some input into what she called a woman’s dream kitchen.”

Riley turned around and leaned against the counter, folded her arms. “She was right. The island, the pots and pans hanging over it, the sink in the island, the sub-zero freezer. Everything you could want in a kitchen is in here.”

He couldn’t help but feel pride at the work he’d done on the place. “It’s big enough for more than me and Zoey, and the yard is huge.” He clicked on the back porch light. “Zoey wants a dog. I’ve waited until she’s old enough to be responsible.”

“Oh, the yard is huge. I love the playset. And yes, it’s perfect for a dog or two. I love animals, always wished I could have some.”

He looked at her. “I remember.”

“I used to love playing with Jack, your lab.”

“Yeah, he died a few years ago.”

Her smile vanished. “I’m sorry. That must have been so hard on everyone.”

“He was an old dog, and he lived a great life. We buried him in my parents’ backyard by the big oak tree.”

“Jack would have liked that. He loved sleeping under that tree.”

He took her hand and showed her the living room with its oversized couches and chairs and the giant television.

“Definitely a man’s room,” she teased.

“Hey, Zoey likes to watch Disney in here.”

She snorted.

He led her upstairs. “Only two of the bedrooms are in use. Oh, and there’s a full bath and another bedroom or possible office downstairs. Haven’t decided yet.”

“So five bedrooms, three bathrooms?”

“Yeah.”

She stopped in the hallway. “You planning on a couple more kids, maybe?”

“I don’t want Zoey to be an only child, so yeah, I’d like to have more kids someday.”

Something flickered in her eyes. “That would be nice. Zoey would be a great big sister.”

“This is Zoey’s room.” He opened the door and turned on the light.

Riley laughed. “Somehow I knew it would be pink. Very, very pink. I love her bed. Did you build that yourself?”

“I did.”

She put her arm around him. “It’s beautiful, Ethan. Every little girl dreams of a canopy bed, with a pink tulle canopy and fairy sparkles on the ceiling.”

“Zoey loves her room, and thanks.”

She stepped in and took a look at the Noah’s Ark of wooden carved animals on Zoey’s dresser. “These are amazing. Where did you get these?”

“I made them.”

She swiveled, her mouth agape. “You carved these?”

“Yeah. I started when she was a baby, before she was born. I made the Ark first, then started on the animal pairs. I add to them every birthday.”

“Oh, Ethan. They’re gorgeous. The intricate workmanship in each piece and the level of detail.” She ran her finger over the elephant’s trunk. “I hope Zoey treasures them. What a wonderful gift from father to daughter.”

He felt his cheeks burn hot, but admittedly enjoyed the praise. “Thank you.”

She lingered at the Ark exhibit for a while, then stepped out of the room.

He led her down the hall to his room. “It’s kind of sparse. Just a giant bed and a dresser.”

She turned to him and smiled. “How utterly perfect.”

“Tired?” he asked as he helped her remove her coat.

“I didn’t think I was. I think little girls who snuggle against you have some kind of sleeping dust attached to them.”

“Yeah, she does it to me, too. It’s the cuddle factor.”

“Lethal. I was out before I knew what hit me.” She held out her hand and he followed her to the bed.

“We didn’t get much sleep last night,” he reminded her.

Her lips quirked. “Guess what? We aren’t going to get much tonight, either.”

He pulled her against him, knowing he’d never tire of the feel of her curves pressed to his. “Who needs sleep?”

He took his time undressing her, the frenzy of last night somewhat satisfied. Plus, there was something about taking a woman’s clothes off, piece by piece, like unwrapping a gift without tearing the paper.

He lifted her sweater over her head, had her sit on the bed and slipped her boots off, then her socks, before gently pushing her to the bed so he could pull off her pants. When he spied the golden silk and lace panties that matched the bra, he arched a brow.

“Prepared yourself tonight?”

“I wasn’t ready for you last night. I am tonight.”

“These look expensive,” he said, tracing his fingers around the tiny bows at her hips, then snaking his finger up her belly to the matching bow between her breasts. “I’ll try not to rip them.”

He felt the pounding of her heart beneath his fingers.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I have plenty of lingerie.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

It made him wonder why. He wanted to ask, but it wasn’t his business.

“Not that any man’s seen my underwear for a very long time,” she said in answer to his unspoken question. “I just have a thing for lingerie.”

His lips lifted. “No woman’s seen mine for a long time either. But the only lingerie I have a thing for is yours.”

She sat up and reached for the button of his jeans. “How disappointing. And I was so hoping?”

“Does Calvin count?”

She waited while he kicked his boots off, then drew his zipper down, her gaze meeting his as she shoved his jeans to the floor. “Calvin definitely counts.”

When she helped him divest himself of his Calvins, he pulled his shirt off and climbed onto the bed, way more interested in what she was wearing. He smoothed his hands over the hills and valleys of her bra, paying attention to her breathing, the way her eyes went all glassy when her nipples peaked and hardened. He swept his fingers over the cups, seeing the buds of her nipples arching against the silk.

Leaning over her, he took a taste of her through her bra.

“Ethan,” she said, her voice soft and buttery as she slid her fingers into his hair. He drew the cups down to taste her, teasing her with his tongue and his mouth until she arched her hips against him, letting him know she was ready for more.

Pleasuring her was so easy because she was so responsive with her body, and he loved touching her. He moved down her body and slid his hands over the silken softness of her panties, rewarded with a rush of unintelligible words from her lips. Ethan was pretty sure they were all good words as he slid his hand inside her panties and took her to the edge, watching her face as she came apart for him, shuddering out a cry that held his name.

She was undoing him with every minute he spent with her. When she took off her bra and panties and climbed on top of him, taking control, he might have died a little.

And when she leaned over, her breasts sliding against his chest as she took his mouth and claimed him at the same time she took possession of him with her body, he knew for sure she was his, always had been and always would be. And neither time nor distance had ever changed that or ever would.

She held his hands and rocked against him, and he couldn’t remember ever being with a woman who surprised him, challenged him, or made him question his priorities more.

And when they came together, both of them holding tight to each other in the darkness of night, he knew then that no matter what, he was never going to let her go.

Because for the first time in his life he wondered just what he’d be wiling to give up to have Riley in his life forever.

After, they held each other in the dark, both of them quiet for awhile.

“Ethan?” she finally whispered.

“Yeah.”

“This time we’ve had together has been really amazing.”

“Yeah, it has.” His gut tightened. This might be an “It’s been great, but” kind of speech.

“I wish it could last forever.”

“Me too, Riley.”

He waited, but she didn’t say anything else, making him wonder if she hesitated because she didn’t want to hurt him, or if she was waiting for him to make the next move.

Hell, he’d never been very good at figuring out what women thought, or what they wanted.

It took awhile before he realized she’d fallen asleep.

While she slept, he got up and wandered the house, wondering how he was going to approach this, how he’d ever ask her to stay with him.

Hour after hour he walked from room to room, realizing he’d be asking her to make all the sacrifices. He’d be giving up nothing, and she’d have to give up everything, or at least make a hell of a lot of adjustments in her life.

Great for him. Not so great for her.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe the best thing he could do for her was let her go, instead of presenting her with a no-win scenario, because it was his only option, which meant what he had to offer her was really nothing special.

Really, nothing at all.

Chapter Nine

Ethan woke Riley early the next morning. Like, before dawn kind of early. He said he had to get over to his parents to be there before Zoey woke so they could do the whole gifts and Santa thing. He wanted to take her with him, but Riley thought it would be best if he had Christmas morning alone with his daughter.

Plus, there was something she had to do, so she told him she was going to go back to the B and B, take a shower and change clothes, and then she’d drive over to his parents.

She’d read his hesitancy last night, and at first she was hurt. She’d been hoping for some kind of declaration from him. She thought she knew how he felt, knew for sure how she felt, and was determined not to be the first to say something.

But she realized she held the upper hand now, that the situation wasn’t at all the same now as it had been ten years ago.

He wasn’t going to ask her to stay. Not now, not when he knew she had so much at stake.

Silly men and their egos. Didn’t he realize she was in love with him?

And love always trumped everything, especially money and career. At least it did with her. And when you were in love, the rest of it could be worked out.

Not that she had any intention of walking away from her career. She wasn’t stupid.

But she had an idea, so when Ethan dropped her off, she ran upstairs and took a shower and dressed, then grabbed her guitar and got to work. It took a few hours, but she finally had everything figured out. She’d already been working on it for days, she realized.

She loaded the gifts she’d bought into the car and drove over to Ethan’s parents’ house. Brody opened the door and grabbed her, planting a short but deep kiss on her lips.

“Merry Christmas, Riley!” he said, clearly already deep into the rum punch.

She laughed. “Merry Christmas, Brody.”

He carried the gifts into the house for her while she greeted everyone. Zoey ran up and hugged her, waved some kind of fancily dressed doll in front of her face, then dashed off to play with all her new “stuff” as she called it, but extracted a promise from Riley that she’d come see all her presents as soon as she got settled and said hello.

“Coffee, hot chocolate, or rum punch?” Ethan’s mother asked.

“Actually, a cup of coffee sounds great, thanks.”

“With or without brandy or whiskey in it?” Ethan’s dad asked as he came up and hugged her.

“Oh, now you’re tempting me. How about a little brandy?”

“There’s a girl after my own heart.”

“There’s a girl who’ll be face down on the floor before lunch,” Ethan said. “Merry Christmas, Riley.” He pulled her into his arms and planted what Riley considered to be one seriously hot kiss on her lips. In front of his parents, and his brothers.

“Daddy, you kissed Riley.”

And his daughter.

He broke the kiss and grinned at his daughter. “I did. Is that okay?”

Zoey nodded. “Yup. Will you come take my game out of the package?”

“Sure, honey.” He shifted his gaze to Riley. “Sorry, Dad duty calls. Back in a sec.”

Apparently, Zoey was utterly unfazed about the kiss between her and Ethan. One hurdle down. And as she surveyed his parents and his brother, Wyatt just shrugged, Ethan’s mother beamed a smile, and his father grinned from ear to ear as he poured what Riley considered a face-down-on-the-floor-before-lunch dose of brandy into her coffee.

“You trying to get me drunk, Mr. Kent?”

He laughed and smacked her on the back. “Nah. Figured you’re a tough girl and you can take it. Drink up, it’ll put hair on your chest.”

“Now there’s an unattractive visual,” Wyatt grumbled, taking the bottle of whiskey and pouring it straight into the glass with a couple ice cubes.

“Too early for that, Wyatt,” his mother warned.

Wyatt kissed Mrs. Kent on the cheek. “I’m here. Isn’t that enough?”

“I suppose, but that’s all the whiskey you get today. Switch off to coffee after that.”

Wyatt nodded, but Riley caught the roll of his eyes as he walked away.

“He’s had it rough the past couple years,” she explained to Riley after he walked out. “But I sure wish he’d get over Cassandra, stop with the bitterness and move on with his life.”

“With some people it takes awhile.”

“You talking about yourself?”

Riley laughed. “I guess so. I carried a grudge for a long time.”

“But now you’re over it.”

“I did it all wrong, Mrs. Kent. Stacy. I wish I had known then what I know now. I would have done things differently.”

Ethan’s mother held up her hands. “No way to change the past or predict the future.”

“I made a mistake in running. I should have stood my ground and fought for Ethan.”

She smiled. “I’m glad to hear you say that. Did you tell him that?”

“Not exactly.”

Mrs. Kent rolled her eyes. “Hell’s bells. What is it with you kids not telling each other how you feel? You’re talking to the wrong person. Go. Go tell my son you love him.”

Riley smiled. “I will. Sometime today. I promise.”

She gave Ethan’s mother a quick hug, then wandered out to find Ethan. He was on the floor with Zoey, who was playing a handheld game while Ethan frowned over instructions.

“It says to reach Level two—”

“I’m already on Level four, Daddy,” Zoey said, not looking up from her game.

“Oh.” Ethan tossed the instructions in the pile of trash.

Riley laughed. “Technology is for children, you know.” She sat down on the floor on the other side of Zoey.

“So I’m beginning to understand.”

Riley watched Zoey play the game for a while, then Zoey handed it over to Riley to play.

She figured it out after a few rather embarrassing tries and Zoey showing her how it was done. Then she realized she wanted one of these handheld game devices, especially when Ethan showed her the catalog of software that went with it.

“It has cooking recipes. It tells you step-by-step instructions while you’re cooking. And here I thought it was a kid’s device.”

“It’s multifunctional for all ages,” Zoey said.

Riley looked at Ethan, then at Zoey. “How old are you again, kid?”

“Seven.”

“Are you sure? You’re awfully smart for seven.”

Zoey giggled. “That’s what my daddy says, too.”

Riley excused herself to help Mrs. Kent set the table for lunch. They ate an abundance of turkey and dressing with more side dishes than Riley could count. It was the best holiday home-cooked meal she’d had in ages. After they cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, it was time to sit in the living room and Riley handed out the gifts she’d bought for everyone.

She’d bought Wyatt and Brody new coats, thick down ones that would be great for the job site. She gave Mr. and Mrs. Kent a new television because they’d been complaining their old one was about to give up the ghost. She gave Zoey a guitar and the little girl’s eyes widened. Then she squealed.

“Really?”

“You’re old enough, but you’ll have to take lessons.”

“I’ll practice every day. I want to play like you do.”

“You have a beautiful voice, Zoey. But you only have to play guitar if that’s what you want to do. Otherwise it can just sit in your room and you can look at it and think of me.”

She grinned. “Cool.”

“Now I have a gift for you,” Ethan said, interrupting her. “It’s not as nice as the gifts you gave my family, but I’ve been working on it for the past ten years.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You have?”

“Yeah. You seeing Zoey’s room last night reminded me, so I finished it today.”

He handed her a box. She opened it and inside was a carving much like the ones of Zoey’s Noah’s Ark animals. Only it was a woman sitting on a stool with a guitar.

“It looks just like you, Riley, when you’re singing and playing your guitar,” Zoey said.

Riley’s eyes filled with tears. She lifted her gaze to Ethan. “It does. Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s the best gift ever.”

Ethan leaned over and brushed his lips over hers. “I love you, Riley. I always have. I always will. I don’t have much to offer, but what I have is yours. A home. A family. My family. My love. Forever. I want you with me. I want you to be a part of my life.”

Her heart swelled and soared. The words she needed to hear made joy spring from every pore, from every fiber of her body.

She sniffed, fighting back the tears. “I have a gift for you as well, Ethan.”

She went to get her guitar. “I thought about what it meant to come back here again. To come back and see you again. But now I realize that seeing you was what I needed, and what I wanted the most. And also what I was most afraid of.

“I ran once, but I want you to know I’m never running again, no matter how hard it gets. I love you, Ethan.”

She started the song, the music perfectly clear in her head, soft melody, heart-filled strains of love pouring from her guitar as she sang only to the man she loved. A slow, sweet melody, a pouring out of her heart, her very soul, for Ethan.

“The swing out back where we’d talk for hours

You’d smile, I’d blush, the world was ours

Back then I didn’t know all I had

I threw it all away when it all went black

Girlish dreams are glitter and polish

Up in smoke without a backwards glance

You gave me your heart then you let me go

I thought you didn’t care. I didn’t know

You set me free to give me a chance

I took my heart with me and never looked back

I hurt you then because I didn’t see

What it was you did for me

I was blind and foolish on my own

The lights were bright, it was all for show

Lonely nights, years on the road

It’s not enough anymore. I want to come home.

The world’s a big place with so much to see

I’ve learned a lot, I soared and was free

But the tie still remains, drawing me here

And now I stand next to you without fear

The soul knows who lights the flame

Of love and desire, I know his name

I don’t want to run, I don’t want to roam

I want to come home, I want to come home

My wandering ends but our journey begins

All it takes is for you to let me in

Open the door and give me your love

I want to come home, I want to come home

To you.”

The room fell silent, and Mrs. Kent cleared her throat.

“That was lovely, Riley. Now the rest of you can come help me in the kitchen.”

“But Grandma, I want to hear Riley sing some more.”

“Later, Zoey. Riley and your daddy have some talking to do.”

“Riley, do you love my daddy?”

Riley turned a tear-filled gaze to Zoey. “Yes, Zoey, I do love your daddy.”

Zoey grinned. “I thought so. That’s pretty cool, because he loves you, too, don’t you, Daddy?”

Riley turned back to Ethan to see him nodding at his daughter. “Yes, muffin, I do love Riley.”

“That’s so cool. My daddy loves Riley Jensen.”

Riley laughed through her tears.

After everyone left, Ethan came over to her, took her guitar, and laid it against the sofa. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a deep kiss filled with all the love she’d always wanted but was afraid she’d never have.

And when he broke the kiss, he said, “I was afraid to ask you to stay. I couldn’t ask it of you.”

“I’ll have to travel. I was afraid to ask that sacrifice of you. I love my career.”

“I’d never make you give it up. Zoey and I can travel with you in the summers.”

“You’d do that?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

She smiled, then laughed, put her hands around his neck. “Anything?”

“Yes.”

“Will you give me babies to fill that huge house of yours?”

He arched a brow. “How soon do you want them?”

“Really soon.”

“Then I guess I’d better put a ring on your finger and marry you. Really soon.”

“I love you, Ethan.”

“I love you, too, Riley.”

As Ethan kissed her, and then as her family—because they were all her family now—crowded in to offer congratulations, she realized she’d been given all she wanted for Christmas. The man she loved, a beautiful daughter, a family who would always be hers, and love.

The best gift of all was always love.

About the Author

New York Times bestselling author Jaci Burton lives in Oklahoma and spends a fair amount of time on the back of her husband’s Harley, where she often gets lost plotting her next story as the warm (and sometimes cold) breeze whips her face. She loves reality television, is a sucker for romantic comedies, and completely loses track of time when reading a great book. She’s a total romantic and longs for the happily ever after in every story, which you’ll find in all her books.

Jaci has won the RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Choice Award and has been a finalist in the National Readers’ Choice Awards and Bookseller’s Best Awards. She writes contemporary romance, erotic romance and romantic suspense, writing in the genres she loves to read.

You can find Jaci on the web at www.jaciburton.com, on Twitter at www.twitter.com/jaciburton and on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/jaci.burton.

Naughty

Unwrapped

By Megan Hart

Naughty is Nice

Newlyweds Leah and Brandon Long are finally taking a honeymoon. But just a few days into their Christmas-in-Vail vacation, Leah takes a tumble on the slopes, severely spraining her ankle. Being stuck indoors isn’t so bad though: the luxurious chalet boasts a hot tub and cozy fireplace. Besides, sitting with her feet up while Brandon serves her in every way a man can serve a woman is exactly how both of them like to spend their time.

Leah would be in heaven, if only Brandon didn’t insist on playing with the dynamic of their relationship. With kinky sex and deep conversation the only things on the agenda, Leah can’t avoid the discussion of how things might change. Will she be ready to take their marriage to the next level in the New Year?

This was beauty.

The line of his spine, curved at the top where his head had bent. His hands, clasped behind him. Not bound, though he’d have allowed that if she wanted it. Leah didn’t have to bind Brandon to keep him where she wanted him to stay.

And besides, eventually she was going to have use for his hands.

More beauty in the fall of his hair over his forehead, hiding his eyes. She could see the lift of his smile though. The rise and fall of his shoulders as he drew in a breath when she shifted a little in the satin-bottomed chair in front of him.

A fire burned in the see-through glass fireplace separating the bedroom and bathroom, but the room wasn’t overly warm. Still, sweat glistened on his upper lip. If she licked his mouth just now, she’d taste the salt of him.

Instead, Leah parted her knees a little more. “Brandon.”

“Hmm?”

She let herself take in another few seconds of admiring gaze, almost daring him to bend a little. Soften his stance. But he didn’t, just stayed with his back straight, his head bent, on his knees. Hands placed wrist-over-wrist behind him at the small of his back.

“Look at me.”

He did, with a little shake of his head to get the hair from his eyes. She smiled. He did, too. But he didn’t move, because she hadn’t told him he should.

His cock thickened, though, telling her he was ready. More than ready. Eager. His tongue slid across his lips again, and her clit pulsed in response.

Though he was naked, Leah wore what she liked to call the “wet dream ensemble.” Lingerie, and not the silky, comfortable sort she usually preferred. Oh, no. Today she wore a pair of crotchless panties and a bra that left her nipples exposed. Garter belt and sheer, seamed stockings. Also a pair of ridiculously high heels she’d packed in her suitcase even though they took up space and she’d only ever wear them for moments like this.

Brandon had confessed to her that along with dirty talk, the filthier the better, he’d grown to have a new appreciation for CFNM—clothed female, naked male. It wasn’t quite a fetish. Leah wasn’t sure either one of them really had any fetishes—sure, their sex life wasn’t what could normally be called vanilla, and she knew more than many of her friends about the delights of playing with dominance and submission, but a fetish seemed like something so strong you couldn’t get off without it. So far she’d been thrilled to find there wasn’t anything that held either of them back from finding pleasure in whatever they did.

Several months ago she’d left him a catalog with instructions that he was to go through and circle whatever he liked best. It had led to an extremely sexy evening of fun, but she hadn’t mentioned it since then and suspected her husband had probably forgotten the task entirely until walking into the bedroom an hour ago and seeing her dressed this way. It wasn’t anything she’d ever have picked for herself, but his dropped jaw and wide eyes had been worth every cent.

The smooth fabric of the chair caressed her skin as she arched against the chair’s ornate back and opened her legs wider. She slid her hand down over her breasts, nipples already tight, and over her belly. Between her legs. She slipped a fingertip inside the panties’ frilly edges. She was wet. Had been for twenty minutes, teasing him. Teasing herself. She circled her finger against her clit, letting out an entirely unfeigned and unrestrained sigh. The muscles of her thighs and belly jumped at the sensation.

Brandon’s gaze caught each and every tremble and twitch. His shoulders rose and fell again as his throat worked against a swallow. His lips parted, but though she saw the press of his tongue against his teeth, and his mouth formed what might have been a word, he cut himself off from it.

She’d told him he was not allowed to speak until she gave him permission. Not that she didn’t love his voice or hearing him talk, because she did. Of all the things she loved about him, Brandon’s ability to hold his own in conversation with her was one of them. And he liked to talk.

He liked to listen, too.

This was beauty, Leah thought, watching him remind himself not to say anything. This was power. And most of all, it was love.

“It’s been a couple days since you ate my pussy,” she murmured, watching for the telltale blaze of interest in Brandon’s deep, dark eyes. For a man who could look as innocent as a choirboy, he surely did get off on dirty talk. She circled her clit again, opened her legs wider to give him a better look at just what she was offering. “I think we’ll start with that.”

He made a noise, not off-limits according to the rules she’d set out for him. She’d left a short but precise list for him to find on the condo’s front door after he returned from a run to the convenience store for snacks. She recognized the sound, frustrated arousal, low and deep in his throat. She laughed a little, watching him press his lips together against whatever it was he meant to say.

She slipped off her shoes and shifted her ass to the very edge of the chair, then stretched out one leg to press her foot against his bare shoulder. Toes he’d painted bright red for her just that morning flexed in the stockings as she traced the line of his collarbone with them. She let her foot slide down just an inch or so to press the heel to his heart. The steady, strong thumping sent an answering thud to her own pulse.

“I want your mouth on me. Just,” she cautioned as he shifted eagerly to move toward her, “your mouth.”

Brandon groaned, still smiling, but closed his eyes and let his head drop a moment before looking back up at her with a raised brow. Leah laughed again, still rubbing gently at her clit, keeping herself on edge. Was he going to break the agreement?

But no. Despite a heavy sigh and another look, Brandon moved forward without unclasping his hands from behind him.

When he got within touching distance of the chair, though, he took his hands from behind him and mimed holding onto the edges of the chair with an exaggerated look of innocence. Then he twiddled his fingers and looked up, up, then down to the spot on the floor next to her chair and mimed falling over.

Leah snorted softly at how he was managing to get around her instructions, and narrowed her eyes, though they both knew she wasn’t even close to irritated. “Fine. But only the chair. You can’t use your hands on me. Not…yet.”

His eyes widened and so did his grin. Brandon gripped the chair to either side of her ass and bent to nuzzle at her thigh, twisting his head to look up at her as he did it. All puppy eyes and pretended purity, but she knew better.

“Mouth only,” she warned in a voice gone husky with the desire he fed so perfectly inside her. “And don’t touch yourself, either.”

Brandon’s gaze went dark just before he closed his eyes and kissed the inside of her thigh, bare above the top of her stocking. She felt the hot, slick weight of his tongue on her sensitive flesh. He moved closer to her cunt, his breath gusting on her arousal. He gave no tentative flick with his tongue, no hesitating press of his lips. He kissed her clit just the way she liked it. Lips and the press of teeth behind them, firm. Then a slow, steady pressure with his tongue.

This was one of those situations where it was rapidly becoming unclear who, exactly, suffered by restricting the use of his hands. Certainly if she hadn’t told him he couldn’t use his hands, Brandon would’ve slid a finger or two inside her by now…but even as the thought of it tipped her head back and shifted her hips forward against his eager mouth, Leah knew that it was the thought that he could but would not that was getting her hot and wet and stiffening his cock.

“Fuck, I love you,” she said under her breath. She tangled her fingers in his thick dark hair, holding him in place, though it wasn’t like he was making any attempt to get away.

Brandon hummed against her cunt, another familiar noise of pleasure Leah adored. He didn’t need words for her to understand him, but she knew that, while she might have restricted his voice as thoroughly as the use of his hands, one of Brandon’s turn-ons was hearing her talk. So she did.

“I love it when you lick my clit, just like that. Suck it a little.” Her breath caught when he obeyed. “Oh, God. Brandon.”

He made that low noise again and the rhythm of his tongue on her clit faltered just for a second. She looked down at him, could see only closed eyes, the bridge of his nose. His lips and tongue worked against her, and it felt so fucking good she could almost ignore the way her ass was sliding on the slippery chair seat, how she was going to slide right off in another second if she weren’t careful. It was too awkward to hitch herself up a little higher, and the fact she’d chosen this chair precisely because it had no arms to get in the way of their fucking meant that now she had nothing to grab onto to stop herself. The edge of it now caught her just above the crack of her ass, pressing unpleasantly. Leah rocked her hips a little, shivering at how good that felt as she rubbed herself on Brandon’s face, but all too quickly wondering what she was going to do when she ended up on the floor…

She didn’t need to worry. Just as she started to fall, his big hands gripped her hips and not only held her steady but eased her just higher enough on the chair seat that she was once more safe. He looked up at her as he did, his mouth still firmly fastened between her legs, but both brows raised in a silent question.

Leah let go of his hair. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t let me fall.”

Brandon lifted his mouth, glistening, from her flesh. “Does this mean I can talk now, too?”

She laughed a little breathlessly and smoothed a fingertip over his brows. “No. Use your mouth for other things.”

“Hands, though?” He paused, giving her a deliberately cheesy, if entirely sexy, look. “Please?”

“Since you asked so…oh, fuck, that’s good.”

He hadn’t waited for her to finish but simply shifted just enough that he could put his mouth back on her clit, flicking it with his tongue while his lips expertly worked the hood, and pressed two fingers inside her at the same time. Leah wasn’t close enough to coming that the added sensation tipped her over, but the way he did it, so smooth, just right, certainly sent an uprush of pleasure through her. The chair creaked and she stifled a somewhat wild giggle at the thought she might still end up on the floor, this time in a shower of splintered wood.

“Stop,” she breathed, turned on and pleased by how he immediately did what she asked.

This was another sort of beauty, the way that, no matter how turned on he was or what he was doing, he was still so attuned to her that a simple command could stop him in his tracks. Leah pushed him gently away and he allowed her without even a protest, though he did give her a quizzical look. It changed a second later when she stood and shoved the chair out of the way.

“On your back.”

The carpet in this room was thick and plush and soft. It was why she hadn’t felt guilty at all about having him on his knees for so long, even though she knew too well from past experience that old soccer injuries made that position not the best for him. Still, it was better having him stretch out on his back in front of her, that thick, delicious cock now so tantalizingly hard she almost got on her own knees to take it in her mouth. Almost, not quite.

Though on the surface all of this—the list, the commands—might seem to be solely for her pleasure, the fact was that she’d instrumented this scenario because of how expertly it would flip Brandon’s switch. Standing, she straddled his hips and looked into his face. His hands rested lightly on her ankles. His eyes met hers without looking away, and she fell into the love she saw there. Love and anticipation, mirrored in the way he licked his mouth and let his gaze dip just for a second down to her pussy before going back up to hers. He was waiting for her.

Leah cocked a hip, eyeing him up and down, letting him wonder just what she meant to do. She dragged her toes up his side, tickling him a little, watching him laugh but not wiggle enough to loose the grip he’d retaken on her other ankle. She rested her foot again on his heart, never hard enough to hurt or even weigh him too fiercely. “Brandon.”

She’d learned a lot of his triggers over the past two years, ones he hadn’t even known he had, but his name would always be one of the strongest for both of them. He drew in a breath. His fingers tightened just briefly on her ankle. He opened his mouth to reply and she shook her head, reminding him of the list. He pressed his lips together on a smile, gaze flaring.

“I told you I wanted you to use your mouth for other things,” she reminded softly, circling her toes against his skin before settling her foot carefully next to his chest just below his arm. This position stretched her wide, gave him an unobstructed view of her open pussy. In another moment she’d taken another step to put herself directly over him. She knelt over his face, her cunt scant inches from his mouth, and slid her fingers over his forehead and through his hair to tug his head back just the smallest amount.

Leah thought she had more to say, but found no words. Action had to suffice. She shifted forward, her knees pressing and her hands finding the softness of the carpet. She angled herself over his mouth just right, close enough he didn’t have to strain to reach her but not pressing down on him. Oh, fuck, that was so sweet. Being able to rock herself in any direction, using his mouth for the friction but controlling the direction, the pace…all of it set her on a swift path to orgasm. She didn’t come yet, though. They didn’t play at orgasm denial and certainly never for punishment, but teasing herself to draw out the pleasure?

Yes, thank you.

Now, this close, she wanted to give him his voice. “Talk to me, Brandon.”

“I love eating your pussy,” he murmured against her, lifting his head to follow her when she eased herself up half an inch. “I want to get lost in it.”

She laughed softly, his words silly and sexy at the same time, the way most fucktalk sounded. “Do you?”

Given permission to speak, he must’ve figured hands were okay again too, because now he moved them to grip her hips and hold her in place. “Yes.” He licked her slowly, ending with a slow, small circle of her clit. “I could stay here all day, just like this.”

“All day?” She breathed out to keep her voice steady, no small feat since she was having trouble stopping the moan struggling to burst out of her. “That’s…a long time…”

“All day,” he assured her, voice muffled. He licked her again, then sucked gently, winning that moan from her at last. “I’d make you come so many times you’d lose count.”

“Oh, would you?” Leah, eyes closed, dug her fingers into the thick carpet and held herself very, very still, letting the movement of his mouth as he spoke to her do all the work. All it would take was a few more whispers. A sentence. Maybe only half of one, and she was going to come.

“Maybe we could just start with one,” Brandon offered helpfully, and then did that thing with his lips and tongue he was so good at, the one she could never quite picture or figure out what he was doing because it always sent her tipping fast and furious over the edge into those few fluttering moments of oblivion that came from a truly spectacular orgasm.

Pleasure rippled through her and she no longer worried about holding back her moan. About holding anything back, really. Everything she had, she gave up to him in that moment, and the freedom of that was as much a part of the pleasure as anything he’d been doing to her with his mouth. Giving up to him, surrendering her pleasure to him, letting him do this for her…this was beauty too.

Blinking, she pushed up on her hands as her body still shook, then slid down his body to capture his mouth with hers. For the moment she could only focus on the hard thickness of his cock between them and the warmth of his mouth on hers. One hand went beneath his neck to dig into the softness of his hair at the base of his skull. She ground her cunt on his cock, already rising toward another orgasm and wondering if she ought to let it happen this way, or if she wanted to slide onto him.

Maybe she could try for both. But no, that would be greedy, wouldn’t it?

“I think,” she said into his ear, bending over him to lick at the lobe, “I want to fuck you now.”

“Grrrreat,” he said in a rumbling, hoarse voice. “Little help?”

She loved that they could laugh together. “What, you can’t manage?”

“The sooner you help me, the sooner I can be inside you,” he said, wriggling under her, still half-trapped by her cunt pushing down on his cock.

“Good point.” She lifted so he could shift. He was already gripping the base of his cock, ready to guide it inside her as she eased herself onto him.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Brandon breathed, and Leah’s cunt clutched at him in response to the way his voice dipped under the word.

She had her triggers, too.

She settled herself onto him the whole way, letting out a small groan when his cock nudged her cervix. It was almost too much, but she blew out a breath and rocked against the pressure to shift him inside her. She gripped him with her knees to hold him still, though she felt the muscles in his sides working to move his hips.

Leah put her hands on Brandon’s shoulders, her fingers curling into his skin. Her hair fell down around his face as her mouth found his.

“Now,” she breathed. “Brandon, fuck me now.”

And he did, oh, God, he did it just right. In, out, his hips twisting just enough. Her clit pressed his belly with every thrust and she tightened her inner muscles against the sliding pressure of his cock inside her. The urgency had eased off, but she was going to come again. No question. No stopping it.

Their bodies moved together, stuttering just once or twice before he found his rhythm. Now Leah let him set the pace, going with it. She thought, given how long she’d been teasing him, that he’d start off fast and get faster, but Brandon had a way of surprising her no matter how well she thought she knew him. He didn’t ram his cock in and out of her, not frantic. He went slow.

His tongue stroked hers and captured her gasp. “I want you to come again, baby.”

“I’m…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, finding no words. Hard to speak. Hard to focus on anything but this great and building sweep of pleasure washing over her.

He fucked into her a little harder, a little faster, but still careful. Not too hard, not too fast. She loved him for that, even as her orgasm shattered through her and she needed, wanted…no, craved the sensation of him moving inside her.

“Faster,” she breathed into his mouth and clutched at his hair to tip his head so she could get at the sweetness of his throat.

His groan sent waves of pleasure rippling through her. When she bit lightly at his throat, she swore she felt the throb of his cock inside her, and though it might be her imagination, the idea that he was so close to coming pushed her into climax. Leah came tasting the salt-sweet flavor of his flesh between her teeth and released his throat from her mouth as she gasped his name, over and over.

Some minutes or maybe it was an hour went by, she couldn’t be sure, she was so thoroughly wiped out. At last, blinking, she pushed herself up to look into his face. His eyes were closed, but that broad grin was still on his lovely mouth. She kissed him lightly.

“Hey.”

He didn’t open his eyes. “Hey.”

“Did I kill you?”

“I’m sort of a little dead, yeah.” Brandon cracked open one eye to squint at her. “But it’s okay.”

Leah sat up, feeling him soften inside her but not willing to move off of him just yet. The bathroom was a goodly number of steps away and she wasn’t ready for the hopping, post-sex “trying not to leak until I get to the shower” dance. Besides, she loved these moments, too, just after they’d both had the tops of their heads blown off in orgasm, when she could look at him all sleepy and sated-looking and marvel at how lucky she was to have such a sexy, wonderful husband.

“What?” he asked, both eyes open now.

“Nothing, what?”

“You looked…” Brandon looked concerned. “Were you going to cry?”

Leah blinked, surprised to find there was indeed the small sting of tears in the back of her eyes. He noticed everything about her. “No. Well. Maybe a little. But not in a bad way.”

Brandon sat up and hitched himself closer to her. “Uh-oh.”

Leah laughed. “It’s not bad. Really.”

“Is this one of those tears of joy things?” He gave her a serious look.

She kissed him. “Absolutely.”

He grinned at the kiss. “Okay. Good. So…dinner, now?”

“So predictable,” Leah murmured and ran her hand through his hair before kissing him again. She rested her forehead against his for a second. “Yes, dinner now.”

The beauty of staying in a “ski in, ski out” condo in Vail was that it made it easy to get to the slopes. They’d even had some groceries pre-delivered by a specialty service so they’d have food for breakfast and some dinners. But Leah didn’t feel like cooking and suspected that though Brandon would be happy to make her something if she asked, he wouldn’t be that enthused about the idea, either.

She kissed him again and got up to head for the shower, saying over her shoulder, “Mexican?”

“You sure?” He got up to follow her. “I thought you said we were going to stick to our budget.”

“I know what I said, but…” Leah shrugged as she turned on the shower. “What’s money for if not to spend?”

He snorted lightly at that, and she knew why. Planning a wedding, even a simple one, after she’d lost her job due to corporate downsizing had caused them both quite a bit of stress. But with new jobs for both of them it had all worked out, enough for them to feel comfortable booking this vacation, their first Christmas together as a married couple. Surely eating a few dinners out couldn’t be that bad.

“I won’t say no to Mexican,” Brandon said as she stripped quickly and stepped into the shower. The familiar jangle of his cell phone filtered through from the bedroom. “I bet that’s my mom. Let me grab it and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

It could be longer than that, if Caroline got to talking, so Leah just shook her head—but fondly. Brandon’s loving parents were a little overwhelming for a woman whose own family prided itself on distance and independence, but Caroline had really come through for Leah when she needed her. There was room in Brandon’s life for both of them, even if it meant being a little late for dinner.

“Take your time,” she told him from under the spray. “Give her my love.”

* * *

This was the good life. A plate of tortilla chips and some salsa, a bottle of Corona, a plate of quesadillas on the way, some great live music…and his wife sitting next to him chair-dancing to the music. The restaurant they’d picked was crowded, which meant getting friendly with their neighbors. The blonde beside him had the annoying habit of tossing her hair when she laughed, but Brandon was already thigh-to-thigh with Leah and couldn’t ask her to shift over without pushing her up against the table full of frat boys at the table on her other side. The table directly across from them had a couple with two small children. Small, loud children who didn’t seem to like Mexican food.

“This is so good!” Leah cried, dipping her chip in the salsa and holding her hand beneath to catch any drips. “Good choice, Mr. Long.”

Brandon tipped his bottle toward her. “You chose it, Mrs. Long.”

She leaned close to kiss him with the spicy salsa still on her lips, and he caught the glint in her gaze that stirred his cock even though they’d just had epic sex not more than a couple hours ago. Her hand slid along his thigh to cup him below the cover of the tablecloth. “Am I going to regret it later, though?”

Brandon shifted just as the blonde swung her hair again. It hit his shoulder, so he turned his back, hoping to prevent any getting in his face. “I can’t make any promises.”

Leah stroked him through his jeans, gave him a gentle squeeze and sat back. “Uh-huh. Ah, well. I’ll just open the windows.”

The toddler at the next table spilled a full glass, then began to scream. The parents, looking haggard and irritated, waved for the waitress to bring some extra napkins while the baby pounded relentlessly on the high-chair tray. Leah gave the family a raised-brow glance Brandon was glad wasn’t directed at him.

“I’d cry too,” she said, “if I was out in a noisy, crowded place past my bedtime.”

Brandon had been to plenty of dinners with his brothers’ families and felt the same. “People shouldn’t bring their kids to restaurants.”

Leah turned to look at him. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Kids are messy, they’re loud and they can’t sit still,” he said matter-of-factly. “They’ll only eat chicken fingers or grilled cheese and they usually have to go to the bathroom at the wrong time.”

“Well…that’s true, but…” She looked again at the family, which had calmed down even though both parents were now muttering and glaring at each other over their salsa and chips.

“Look at those people,” he said. “They’re miserable.”

“I thought you liked kids.”

“I love kids,” Brandon said. Kids of his own would be different, he guessed. And sure, he wanted to be a dad, sooner rather than later, though he was pretty sure Leah wasn’t ready to talk about having babies. Not with her new job and all, plus they’d only been married a few months.

Her brow furrowed for a moment as her gaze cut to the family’s table again. “I guess it’s easy to say what you’d do differently with your own.”

The servers brought two trays of food and began passing them out to the frat boys at the table next door, then put two plates on Brandon and Leah’s table. Leah forked a bite of steak and peppers and offered it to Brandon, who took it off her fork with his mouth. “How’s your quesadilla?”

He hadn’t yet taken a bite, but did now. “Good. Want some?”

She waggled her brows. “Of course.”

Together, they shared the contents of their plates. The music made conversation difficult, not that it mattered. At least it blocked out the noise from the cranky kids at the next table, and besides, Brandon and Leah didn’t always have to talk in order to communicate.

“That was delish.” Leah patted her stomach with a sigh as they left the restaurant, music still blaring behind them. The doors they’d just come through opened at once, spilling out the frat guys. “What now? I know. Let’s go work off all this food.”

“I like the sound of that,” he said with a grin and pulled her closer, but Leah laughed and shook her head.

“Not that way. Well, maybe later that way. I just figured we have the week passes, and what’s the use of ski-in and ski-out if we don’t…well, ski in?”

Brandon, his hands settled on her hips, turned them both to face the broad expanse of brightly lit mountain behind them. “I thought you didn’t like night skiing.”

“I don’t. But you do.”

This was true. Leah didn’t love to ski the way he did. She was decently skilled, enough to keep up with him if he slowed himself down, but she didn’t like to go too fast and even though he thought she was good enough to hit the black diamond slopes, she preferred to stick with green and blue. She didn’t like to ski at night because the lights messed with her depth perception.

“It was that second margarita, huh?” He kissed her, then looked again at the mountain. He did like skiing at night, had been willing to forgo it for her, but if she was serious…

“I just want you to have a good time on this trip, that’s all.” She gestured at the mountain. “And we should get our money’s worth out of the passes. And…maybe…”

Brandon looked at her. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe it gets me a little tingly watching you on the slopes.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“You’re so athletic,” Leah said, smiling but serious. “And graceful. You just swoosh, swoosh down the hill. And I’m always behind you, so I get a great view of your ass.”

“I’m not going to argue with you then. Sure, why not? Let’s go. The slopes don’t shut down for another couple hours. We can do a few runs. Maybe hit the hot tub later, too.”

His wife stood on her toes to grin up at him. “Absolutely.”

* * *

Leah was a big believer in stopping while you were still having fun. She should’ve stopped before they started. It had seemed like a great idea after dinner—which admittedly had been eased along by two very good margaritas. But she couldn’t blame alcohol for it, not really. She’d been serious when she said watching Brandon ski was a turn-on. Watching him do most anything was, but watching him be all sporty and athletic most definitely melted her butter. Leah was a competent skier, snorkeller, horseback rider, whatever. But Brandon, all long legs and broad shoulders and big hands, was perfection in motion.

“You okay?” He dug one pole into the hard-packed snow, his skis angled just right. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We could take the blue slope.”

“No. You said this one wasn’t so bad after this first drop-off. Right?” Leah gave the steep hill in front of them a wary glance. She was far more comfortable on wide slopes where she could zigzag and keep her speed down, but in order to get to that bit she’d have to navigate this drop in front of her. She could do it. Probably. But she wasn’t really looking forward to it.

“Let’s go down the other way,” Brandon said. “I don’t care, Leah, really.”

She looked up at him. They’d only been here for three days, and most of it had been a little like watching a horse reined in too tight. Sure, he could suffer the easier slopes, and she had no doubts Brandon was having fun because they were together…but she also knew he was probably itching to get going on something like this.

“No, baby,” she told him, girding her imaginary loins. She faced the slope. “Let’s do this last run. Then we can hit the hot tub.”

“Sounds good.” No kiss, it would’ve been too awkward on skis, but he grinned and turned his body to the edge of the slope. “Let’s go!”

He went.

Leah went a moment after him, her heart in her throat as the wind burned her cheeks. It wasn’t so bad. She’d taken lessons. She could do this. The bright white snow shone in the brighter, whiter light from the high lamps. This slope needed a good grooming. She squinted, aware that someone had come up behind her, was passing her, and that Brandon had slowed himself so she could catch up. That wasn’t what she wanted, though. She wanted a wide berth, room to zig and zag. If it wouldn’t have totally embarrassed her, she’d have made pizza with the tips of her skis to slow herself down. As it was, she just breathed deep and focused.

And she was doing great, until some lack of shadow confused her and she hit a bumpy patch of ice that sent her flying just a little too high and a little too fast.

Pain.

She didn’t hear a splintery sound or anything that would indicate a break, but nevertheless, Leah’s ankle and shin burst into an explosion of agony. She spluttered, snow up her nose and down the front of her coat, not quite sure what had happened or what was going on, only that somehow she’d ended up on her face in the snow, her leg twisted beneath her, her skis popped off and halfway down the mountain. She was lucky she hadn’t stabbed herself with a ski pole.

“Leah! Are you okay?” Brandon must’ve caught a glimpse of her tumble and stopped a couple hundred feet below her. He pulled off his goggles and stuck his poles into the snow to keep them from falling over, then stepped out of his skis to climb the steep, slippery slope toward her.

Leah winced, as much at the indignity of her position as the pain, which had now dulled to a throb. “I hate night skiing.”

“Can you stand?”

“I think so.” But she couldn’t, something they both discovered when he bent to give her a hand up, and the smallest bit of weight on her injured ankle made her hiss with pain and sag in his grip. “Damn it.”

“Take it easy. I can get the ski patrol.” He paused, shaking his head. “I don’t want to leave you. Do you think you can tandem with me? The end’s just around the bend, there’s a big dip there but nothing as bad as up at the top. If I can get you there, you could slide down on your butt.”

“Of course I could,” Leah said with another wince. She didn’t want to sit here and wait until someone came for her, but she had no idea what he meant by tandem.

She figured it out a couple minutes later as Brandon helped her up and back into her skis, then positioned himself behind her and had her hold onto the poles he held out in front of her like a grip bar.

“This is how they teach little kids, sometimes,” he told her. “It’s not pretty, but it’ll get you down the mountain.”

It was far from pretty. It was, in fact, downright humiliating. And it still hurt, even though Brandon had instructed her to hold her injured ankle as still as she could to let him do the heavy work in the turns. At least it was fast, though by the time they got to the bottom, Leah’d broken into a cold sweat from the pain.

Two exams from the EMT and a tightly bound ankle wrap later, the sprain had been diagnosed, advice on care given, and Leah had hobbled back to the condo with Brandon’s help. Now, settled in front of the fireplace with her foot up and a mug of hot cocoa brimming with melted marshmallows, she felt a little better.

“What a stupid idea,” she told Brandon finally. “Now I’ve ruined the trip. I’m sorry.”

He settled next to her on the chair-and-a-half. “Don’t be sorry. I should’ve waited for you. I knew you had trouble with night skiing and black diamonds. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

Leah put her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

He looked at her. “You don’t!”

Leah smiled and traced the line of his jaw with her fingertip. “In skiing? I definitely do.”

“Well. It’s not like I care.”

“I know you don’t,” she said with a sigh. “But sometimes I do. I mean, we’re only on this trip because you wanted to make me happy. We could be with your parents right now—”

“Sleeping on a lumpy mattress and having to make sure we don’t make too much noise when we’re having sex?” Brandon shook his head. “Not the way I want to spend our first Christmas together married.”

“But you always spent Christmas with your parents,” Leah told him. “Every year. Until I came along, anyway. I don’t want to be the one who makes things change for your family like that.”

“Will you stop?” He laughed. “Things changed for me when I was the first son to move away. Sure, I went back for Christmas because I had no reason not to. But now, we’re a family. And sure, I don’t mind spending holidays with my family. I love my family. But I love you, too. And they love you. It’s all good. We didn’t get a honeymoon, remember? I told my mom we were planning this trip instead. She understood.”

“She probably didn’t like it.”

Brandon laughed. “Maybe not, but she didn’t say so. Besides, she told me herself that she was looking forward to going to my brother’s house for Christmas dinner so she didn’t have to cook for once.”

“And you believe her?”

He laughed again and cuddled her closer. “Maybe not. But that’s what she said. Point is, she didn’t make a big deal out of it, and they’re flying out to visit us in a few weeks, so we’ll do Christmas with them then.”

Leah was silent, hoping he was right. “Doesn’t change the fact that because of this,” she gestured at her ankle, “I’ve ruined the trip.”

“Shut up,” Brandon told her. “I’m here with you, that’s all that matters.”

She had to laugh. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”

“Yep.”

“Really.” She gave him an assessing look, then gripped his chin in her hand, holding his face steady. “That’s the mouth you kiss your wife with?”

“Any chance I get.”

“How about now?” She asked, but pulled her mouth away from his at the last second with a low laugh. “Ah, ah, ah. Why should I kiss you when you talked to me like that?”

“Because you want me to kiss you,” Brandon told her. “Alllllll over.”

“Well,” Leah admitted. “I guess that’s true.”

It certainly was.

* * *

Eggs and toast. Nothing fancy, but he was good at it, and besides, Leah liked it. Brandishing a plate in one hand and a spatula in the other, Brandon appeared in the bedroom doorway with a flourish. “Breakfast is served!”

Leah, propped up on a pile of pillows against the headboard, set aside the magazine she’d been flipping through. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the pressure, and Brandon moved forward quickly to put the plate on the nightstand.

“Nope,” he told her. “Back in bed.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a plot of some kind.”

“Maybe,” he teased. “But you’ll have to eat your breakfast first.”

His wife laughed but moved back against the headboard. “Smells great.”

Brandon settled on the bed next to her and took up the plate and fork, laden with fluffy scrambled eggs. “Here.”

“Oh…you’re going to feed me? That’s service.” She sounded like she was teasing, but her voice had dipped low in a way that never failed to send a little shiver up and down his spine.

“I aim to please.” He fed her the bite of eggs, watching her eyes close and her mouth open, watching as her face twisted in pleasure.

“Mmm, so good. I was starving. Thank you, baby.” Leah chewed and swallowed and opened her eyes, catching him looking. Her gaze flared.

He loved that she knew him so well.

“They’re perfect.” She opened her mouth for him to feed her another bite. This time, though, the eggs slipped off the fork and Leah had to catch them. She laughed, wiping her mouth as she poked him. “Careful!”

He took a bite of them himself, and between the two of them they’d finished the eggs in no time. Leah reached across him for a piece of toast, breaking it into small pieces and alternating bites for herself and feeding him. It was the sort of thing newlyweds did, Brandon thought as he took the bite of toast from her fingers. Sort of silly but fun, too. And he liked making her laugh.

“Now the bed’s full of crumbs.” She sighed and licked butter from her fingers. “And I need a shower.”

“I’ll help you.” He got off the bed and slid an arm beneath her butt, the other behind her shoulders. “Heave ho.”

Leah giggled as he swept her up but didn’t protest. Instead, she cuddled, soft and warm, against his bare chest. She nuzzled him just above the nipple, which didn’t make it much easier to carry her, considering how it distracted him. “I love it when you get all caveman on me.”

“What, I should just let you hobble to the shower on that ankle?” Brandon said as he carried her into the bathroom. “What kind of husband would I be then?”

“A bad one,” Leah said solemnly.

“And I’m not a bad husband.”

“Nope. Definitely not. Best husband I ever had.” Her arms curled around his neck as he lowered her gently onto one foot, the other lifted just enough to prevent her from putting weight on it.

“Ha. Nice one.” He squeezed her ass. “Only husband you ever had. Unless you’re not telling me something.”

“Nope.” She looked over her shoulder at the shower. “This should be fun.”

“Rest that ankle. I’ll help you,” he warned and turned the water on, setting the temperature just how she liked it and then helping her so carefully out of her clothes she laughed and poked his bare chest.

“I’m not an invalid, Brandon!”

He shrugged. “I do it for you when we’re at home because you like for me to do it. Why wouldn’t I do it when you really need my help?”

Leah sobered, brows knitting. She slid her hand over his heart, then up his throat to cup his cheek. Brandon turned his face to kiss her palm.

“I know you like to,” she said in a low voice. “It just feels different when you have to, that’s all.”

They’d had a hard few months after she lost her job and needed to rely on him as the breadwinner. For Brandon it had been no big deal to pool their funds—they were getting married, after all. And that’s what a man did, right? Take care of his wife, however she needed it? And even though he hadn’t made as much money in his job as she had in the one she’d lost, it had been enough for what they needed. It had scraped at her, though. A lot. His wife was one independent woman, and he wouldn’t have her any other way.

Even if it was a little frustrating, sometimes.

“It still gets me hard,” he said, off-handedly enough to pretend he was teasing her. Which he wasn’t. His dick was definitely already getting hard.

She looked between them. “I see that.”

“Tell you what. If you promise not to fall on your butt in there, I’ll leave you alone. As much as it pains me,” he added, just to make sure she knew he was being serious.

“I think I can manage a shower on my own. I can call for you if I really need help.”

“You sure? I could wash your back.”

She smiled. “The offer’s tempting, but…no.”

He didn’t really want to leave her alone in the bathroom, and not just because he was horny, but he knew better than to push her. If she said she wanted to be alone in the bathroom, she meant it. He kissed her though, long and slow and thoroughly, just so she’d be sure to notice exactly what she’d be missing.

“Go,” Leah said softly, squeezing his ass. “I’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, he let her go. In the kitchen, he put all the dishes in the half-size dishwasher and scrubbed at the pan he’d used for the eggs. He turned with a smile when he heard her in the doorway. “Hey.”

“You are something else,” she said.

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“It makes you a keeper, that’s for sure.” She started to hobble toward the chair, protesting only with a sigh when he moved to help her. “You take such good care of me.”

“Is it still so hard for you to believe I really do like it?”

She smiled a little and leaned to catch a crumb at the corner of his mouth with her fingertip. “No. I know you do. But it’s still a little hard for me, sometimes, to admit how much I like you doing it.”

“I know. But I’m not going to stop, so you’d better get used to it.” Brandon went back to the sink to finish rinsing the pan. When he turned back, she was watching him with a familiar gleam in her eye.

His wife might struggle sometimes with how much she liked being in charge, but it didn’t stop her from doing it.

“What?” Brandon looked over his shoulder, eyes a little wide because he knew exactly what that did for her. “Something on my pants?”

“You have such a very, very fine ass,” Leah said matter-of-factly. “It makes me want to take a big bite. In fact, why don’t you finish putting away all these dishes so I can ogle you shamelessly.”

He could manage that, not a problem at all. In fact, he could go one better. “I can put some away, too,” Brandon told her, stretching to put one of the wineglasses they’d used earlier way up on the highest shelf in the cupboard, one so high even he had to stretch to reach it.

Leah’s gaze flared and her tongue pressed briefly to the center of her upper lip. “You. Are. Shameless.”

Brandon grinned and faced her, flexing just a little more than was entirely necessary and was rewarded with the way she shifted a little in her chair. If he moved his hip just the right way, his loosely tied pants would slip just a little farther down his belly. She liked that, too.

“Anything else you need taken care of?” His cock was already telltale tenting in the front of his pajama bottoms, and he didn’t miss the look she gave that, too. “I think there’s a mop in the closet. I could get that out.”

Leah laughed, but throatily. “How about a scrub brush and a bucket, instead?”

He gave her another falsely innocent look. “Oh…you’d like me to get on my hands and knees?”

He loved the way she laughed, covering up her eyes as though the idea embarrassed her, when he knew better. Something about him getting on his knees for her turned his wife on in a major way—had the first time they’d met, as a matter of fact, though he hadn’t known it at the time. Of course, he hadn’t quite known that getting on his knees for her would flip his switch, too.

He looked her over. “That would totally turn you on, huh?”

“Hush.”

He laughed. “It would!”

“Careful,” Leah warned, “or else you’ll find yourself on floor-scrubbing duty and you won’t like it very much.”

“Baby, whatever gets your motor running is good for me.” He mimicked revving a motorcycle.

She laughed at him again. “It’s not the actual scrubbing part of it, you know that, right?”

He knew it. It wasn’t necessarily what he was doing, be it making her come with his mouth and not his hands, or following her list to the letter or simply taking over the laundry chores because she hated doing it. It wasn’t the tasks he performed that turned her on, but the fact he was willing to do them to please her.

“I like to make you happy,” Brandon said with a shrug. It seemed like such a simple thing, even though he knew lots of his buddies would rather have stabbed themselves with hot pokers than admit it—or actually do it.

Oh, damn. There were the tears again, glistening subtly but surely. Concerned, he pulled out the chair next to hers and took her hand in both his. “Leah. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

Disturbed, he searched her face for any sign of what could be bothering her. He ran through a checklist of anything that could be wrong—but as far as he knew, their bank accounts, though still smarting, had started to recover. She seemed to like her new job, and his wasn’t putting any strain on them either. It was always entirely possible he’d screwed up somehow, done something stupid and utterly male, but Leah was never shy about letting him know when he did, so he figured it couldn’t be that.

“It’s because of the trip, huh?” It was the only thing he could think of. “I knew it. I should’ve taken you to the Bahamas. One of those all-inclusive places with lots of fruity drinks…”

“It’s not that. I told you, I like to watch you ski, and I like it too, even if I’m not very good at it. Well, when I’m not falling down the mountain,” she amended. “Really, honey, it’s nothing.”

She leaned to kiss him, and he knew that was a sweet way of distracting him, but when she slid onto his lap to straddle him, he was more than willing to be distracted. She ran her fingers through his hair as the kiss deepened, and when she stroked her tongue along his, his dick stirred.

“Hmm,” Leah said, rocking herself against him, “what’s this?”

“Maybe you should find out,” he suggested, trying to kiss her again and letting out a low sigh of semi-frustration when she teased him by pulling away.

“Maybe I should,” she said as she slipped back into her own chair, wincing a bit when she put weight on her foot. “Stand up.”

He did, standing very still as she looked him over like he was a cupcake in a glass display. Like something she wanted to eat right up. God, he hoped that was what she was thinking.

“Take those off.”

He slid his pajama bottoms off, tossed them to the side, dick getting harder. She licked her mouth as she looked at his cock, so damned sexy without even half trying. He’d been with girls who’d tried too hard, put on their porn-star moves or whatever, thinking that being sexy was something they could do rather than just…be.

Leah sat up straighter in her chair and looked up at him. “Come here.”

She took hold of his dick at the base, holding him firmly while she guided him closer to her open mouth. Hot breath moved over the head, but instead of taking him into her mouth, she nuzzled at his skin, rubbing him along her cheek, her closed lips, her jaw line. She made love to his cock without even sucking it, and his balls still got as tight as if she’d taken him down the back of her throat.

“I love your cock,” she breathed, so low he might not have heard her if he hadn’t been holding his own breath. Her hand slipped between his legs to cup his balls, her thumb stroking the sensitive part between the sac and his ass. Her other hand still held him at the base as she slid her lips along the length in one long, sweet kiss. “Tell me what you’d like me to do to you now.”

“Use your mouth,” he managed to say, though his throat was a little too dry for speech. “Um…please?”

She hummed laughter against him. “Oh, Brandon. I love you so much it hurts, you know that? And I want to taste you just as much.”

He put his hand on the softness of her hair, which she’d pulled into a bun on top of her head. He tugged away the elastic band and let the strands tumble around her shoulders. “I like when your hair is down.”

She kissed his belly, then, without taking her mouth away, looked up at him. That view, that sultry-eyed, tumble-haired vision, her mouth scant inches from his dick, never failed to send a bolt of sensation running through him. He wanted her mouth on him, but part of this, a big part, was about the waiting.

He didn’t have to wait too long. Leah nuzzled his cock just a bit more, then tongued the head, paying special attention to the little divot underneath. Then down the shaft, dipping her head to add a swipe of her tongue along his balls that had him stutter out a groan.

This time when she came up, she took him fully into her mouth. Sucking gently, she eased his thickness past her teeth and used the flat of her tongue to stroke him. His hips pumped involuntarily, but she was ready for it, her hand still at the base, keeping him from going too deep or too fast.

The chair put her at the perfect height for this, and the table was just right for him to grab for support—and he was going to need it, because when Leah sucked his cock there was always a good chance his knees were going to get weak.

Sometimes she drew it out—not that he ever minded—but today didn’t seem to be one of those days. Leah set to fucking him with her mouth and he gave up to the pleasure of it. Looking down at her, watching her hand slip from his balls to between her legs, watching her rub her clit while she sucked him, Brandon knew a couple things. One, he was a very lucky man. Two, he was going to come sooner rather than later.

Pleasure built like bricks, one after another, making a wall that had no choice but to come down. He murmured her name. When she looked up at him, her mouth still sucking on him, he shuddered.

He thought then she’d release him, maybe urge him to fuck her. On the table, maybe on the counter, maybe even ask him to take her to the bedroom and do it on the bed. But instead, Leah bent back to sucking his dick. Her hand moved faster between her legs, her pace and the rhythm of her sucking faltered just enough to let him know she was being distracted by her own pleasure.

That made all of this ten times hotter.

Sometimes it was hard for him to tell if she was close to coming, but not now. The shift of her breath, the small, low moan that vibrated his dick, the way her shoulders jerked a little—they all told him Leah was getting off. She paused, breathing hard, to look up at him with a glazed gaze. Then she bent back, moving faster, using her free hand to stroke him at the same time while the other started up again between her legs. Her orgasm came close after the first, urging a small cry from her, and almost tipping him over…but not quite.

“God,” she breathed, using her hand for the moment instead of her lips and tongue, “that was good.”

He couldn’t really formulate a reply, not when his brain was a haze of sensation centered solely in his dick and nuts. And when she lowered her mouth to him again, adding both hands, one on his shaft and the other stroking his balls, everything became a blaze of white-hot pleasure, blocking out everything else.

He thought he said her name, sort of a warning, but Leah didn’t pull away, didn’t stop. She took him deeper, if that were possible. At least it felt that way. And it felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter how far she had him, all that mattered was the hot, wet sucking and the stroking and the sudden firm pressure in the spot just behind his balls from her fingertips.

He cried out when he came, jerking, spilling into her mouth. He hadn’t realized he’d tangled his fingers in her hair as tight as he had until the motion of her head tugged at his hand. It was too late, though, he was coming, hard, hips pumping, cock throbbing.

When he was finally able to focus, looking down on her, there was no sign of tears. She kissed his belly and leaned back in her chair, head tilted to watch him as she wiped the corner of her mouth with a fingertip. She was smiling so smugly he had to laugh.

“Very nice,” she told him.

He wasn’t going to argue. He did glance at the clock, though, as he pulled his pajama bottoms up to his hips again. They’d slept in, and it was already close to noon. “See? We couldn’t have done that at my parents’ house.”

“Certainly not now that they’ve put a queen-sized bed in your old room instead of putting us in the basement,” she told him. “Which was actually better.”

“Sure, with all the kids down there playing foosball,” he laughed. “Knocking on the door, asking when Uncle Brandon and Aunt Leah are going to wake up. See, it’s a good thing it’s just us. Once the kids show up, there’s no more random dick sucking at the kitchen table.”

She gave him an odd look. “Obviously, people with kids still have sex, Brandon.”

“Well…yeah.” He shrugged. “But not like they did before they had kids, right? I mean…the stuff we do…”

She raised a brow. “What about it?”

He ran a finger over the tattoo on his biceps. To most anyone it would look like a simple band of color, but he knew where to look to see the buckle that made the design a belt. Sort of a joke between them, since one of the first times they’d ever been together she’d used his belt to restrain his hands. Leah had a matching one on her belly, low where only he could ever see it.

“These sorts of things,” he said.

“You mean kinky things.”

He hesitated. “Well…yeah.”

His wife chewed her lower lip for a second. “I imagine nothing is the same after you’ve had kids.”

There. He knew it. She wasn’t ready for baby talk. And, not wanting to get the conversation headed in the wrong direction, he changed the subject. “What do you want to do today? I can run down to the main lobby and rent some movies.”

“You’re going skiing,” Leah said firmly. “I’ll be fine here by myself. And I don’t want you to miss out on anything. It’s a ski trip, remember? And besides, you’ll have a better time without me holding you back.”

“That’s not—” he began but bit off the protest when she gave him a look.

“You’ll have a good time by yourself. No sense in staying in with me, I can’t go anywhere, anyway. I mean it, Brandon.”

That sealed it for him. “Okay. Great. Well…can I get you anything before I go? It won’t take me very long to run down—”

“Brandon.” Leah’s brow furrowed.

Oops. She loved it when he did stuff for her, but he had to remember that despite that, she was a strong and independent woman who also liked it when he didn’t. He bent to kiss her, lingering until she poked him.

“Go,” she said. “I want to read my book!”

He snuck another kiss anyway. “I’ll only stay out a few hours.”

“Really, baby, it’s fine. You go and have a good time. I’ll be okay. I promise.” She tipped her face for another kiss, then tweaked his nipple just hard enough to show she meant business. “Go.”

* * *

Leah had meant what she said when she’d told Brandon to go, but it had been a few hours and she’d finished her book. Figuring she’d be spending the days on the slopes and the nights drinking, dancing and making love, she hadn’t thought to pack more than the one she’d been halfway through. It had taken her only an hour and a half to whip through the rest of the book, a decent suspenseful thriller that had ended too predictably but kept her interest, at least. Now she’d flipped through the condo’s impressive and extensive selection of cable channels, predictably finding nothing to watch.

She was bored.

She glanced at her phone but decided against texting Brandon. He’d come home early if she wanted him to, but she didn’t want to ruin his ski time any more than she already had. It was only a little after three, and before he’d left he’d promised to be home by five.

She looked out the window, which overlooked the center courtyard of the condo complex. There was a nice little restaurant and lodge just past it, along with the small convenience store that sold magazines, paperbacks, snacks and rented DVDs. The question was, would she be able to hobble her way there and get something?

By that point she was sort of desperate enough to do anything. She stood, testing the pain in her twisted ankle. It was tolerable, especially if she rested it frequently. She figured it would be worth a shot, anyway. Get down there, pick up something to read, maybe a movie or two for tonight, head back. They could order in.

Unfortunately, in this whole scenario she hadn’t imagined the part where she made it down the condo’s stairs and across the courtyard, only to set her foot wrong on a patch of ice and twist her ankle again. Fortunately, she didn’t scream, though the pain was instant and agonizing enough that she wanted to. Somehow, though, she managed to get herself into a chair next to the big fireplace. So much for not being bored—now she was still without a book and stranded, to boot.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out to spy a familiar number. “Hi, Caroline.”

“Hi, honey. It’s me.”

Leah smiled. Brandon’s mom always said that. “How are you?”

“Oh, fine. How’s everything out there?”

Leah looked around the lodge, so festively decorated, and felt a sudden and extremely unexpected pang. The tree in the corner twinkled, the presents underneath assuredly fake. She’d only spent one Christmas with Brandon’s family, but it had seemed so much more like what the holiday should be than this did. She and Brandon had given each other this trip instead of presents, which meant there’d be nothing to open on Christmas Day. No tree or stockings stuffed with trinkets.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“Just okay?” Caroline sounded concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Brandon was just like his mother in that way—honing in on the slightest hint of trouble. Leah tried to be annoyed and failed. “Oh…I twisted my ankle and so I’m not skiing, I’m just here in the lodge. Bored.”

“Where’s Bingo?”

Leah rolled her eyes, but fondly, at her mother-in-law’s nickname for Brandon. “He’s skiing.”

“Well…” Caroline didn’t quite seem to know what to say to that. “Why? Why isn’t he with you?”

“I told him to go and have fun, Caroline. It’s okay. Really. I’m just sort of bored, that’s all. He’ll be back soon. Then we’ll go to dinner.”

“Ooh, good food out there?” And then Caroline was off, rattling away about recipes and the grandkids and Brandon’s brothers and their wives and what they were making for dinner or what they’d already made. She talked for a good ten minutes with Leah needing to do nothing but murmur in response, and just like that, she was finished. “I just wanted to check in, honey. Make sure you’re both doing well. Having fun.”

Another pang of guilt washed over Leah at that, even though she was sure Caroline hadn’t meant to make her feel bad. “I’m sorry we’re not there for Christmas.”

There was a pause long enough to prove that Caroline, no matter what she said, felt the same, but then she gave a motherly tut-tut. “Don’t be silly. You kids need to have a nice vacation, and I know it’s the only time you could take since your company closes for this week. No sense in wasting that time coming to see us when we can come to you in a couple weeks, right?”

That was how they’d presented the idea originally, but now it sounded selfish and lame. “I guess so. Sure. It’ll be great.”

“You sure you’re okay, honey?”

Leah assured her she was and spent another five minutes with Caroline saying goodbye. She considered texting her husband to see where he was, but again refrained. Instead, she dialed a familiar number.

“Hey, I thought you were on vacation,” greeted her best friend Kate.

Leah relayed the story quickly. “So now I’m in the lodge.”

“Dude, call that handsome husband of yours to come get you. He totally will, and you can spend the rest of the afternoon riding him like a pony.”

“I know. But…I don’t want him to miss out on skiing, that’s all.”

Kate laughed. “You know he won’t care. Given the choice between getting his crank yanked and skiing, don’t you think Brandon would choose the sex?”

Leah laughed too. “Of course. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be selfish of me to make him.”

“Pfft, selfish.” Kate snorted, then muttered as though she had a hand over the phone, “No, I will not tell her I want a slumber party and a pillow fight.” Louder, Kate said, “My handsome husband gives his regards.”

Leah had worked with Kate’s husband Charles Dixon for a number of years before being laid off from her job. “Tell Dix I said he’d better be treating you right or else he and I will have a little talk.”

“Oh, he is. No question about that. He doesn’t know I peeked at the boxes under the tree. One is definitely jewelry shaped.”

Another pang poked her at the thought of having no presents to open on Christmas Day. “You have the girls this year?”

“Yep. Christmas Day. Don’t get me started on what we had to do to get Pickles to agree to that,” Kate said, referring to Dix’s ex-wife. “Let’s just say if I could feasibly get away with signing her up for a Match.com account and hooking her up with someone who’d take her away…anywhere…far away…I would.”

Leah made a face. “But having the girls on Christmas. That’ll be fun. Won’t it?”

There was a pause before Kate said, “What’s up with you?”

Leah sighed, shifting in the chair to put her bad ankle up on the coffee table. All around her were people laughing, eating, talking. She spotted the family from the restaurant, the toddler bundled in a hat, scarf and coat and in a much better mood today. The mother held the baby on her hip, and it was obvious the father had taken the older child skiing while mama and baby hung out in the lodge. Leah wondered if the father had skied tandem with his kid, and a sudden image of Brandon teaching their children to ski hit her so hard she had to shake her head to clear it.

“You’re like the third person who’s asked me that,” she said.

“Must mean something is. Spill it.”

“Do you think you and Dix will have kids?”

The silence was longer this time. “Oh, girl,” Kate said finally. “You got the fever?”

“No.” Leah watched the parents helping the kids get settled at one of the tables. “Well. Maybe.”

Kate laughed. “What does Bingo think about that?”

“Well, here’s the thing. I’d have said he was a green light for it, definitely, but he’s been making noise like having kids would cramp our style.”

“They do,” Kate said. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have them.”

“I know. And believe me, it’s not like I’ve been mooning around peeking in strollers and wishing for a Bitty Baby Spitup of my very own. But something…I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like Christmas here!” Leah said more vehemently than she’d intended.

“No Beadazzled sweaters?”

“I’m sure I’ll get one in a few weeks when Bill and Caroline come to visit, but that’s not the point. I thought it would be great to go on vacation this week, so I wouldn’t have to take extra time off work since the office is closed. I thought it would be exciting and romantic and all that, to spend our first married Christmas alone. But Kate…I spent so many Christmases like this, or alone. I don’t like it as much as I thought I would.”

When she was young there had been gifts left by Santa and a nice dinner, sometimes cooked by her mom, but most often at a restaurant. Her parents were the ones who liked to travel for Christmas. This year they’d gone to Japan, of all places. And to be fair, they had invited her and Brandon to join them, but the trip was too long and too expensive. It was nothing like Christmas with the Longs, who hung their tree with popcorn and cranberries and sang carols and drank hot chocolate spiked with Godiva liqueur until midnight. Where the family with the youngest child got to keep the “tiny stocking” for the whole year.

She pointed her toes, feeling the ache in her ankle. “Though having to stay off my feet does make a nice reason for him to wait on me hand and foot.”

“As if he needed a reason!”

Leah smiled. “I know.”

“So don’t waste your time talking to me. Text your dude. G’wan,” Kate said. “I’ve got cookies to bake or something like that.”

They said their goodbyes and Leah disconnected the call, hesitating only a few more seconds before thumbing a message to Brandon’s number. She thought it likely he wouldn’t be able to get to his phone right away, but within half a minute his reply came through, sending a little shiver of delight through her.

BE THERE RIGHT AWAY.

* * *

It was billed in the brochure as a “romantic, moonlit getaway” and “a festive holiday sleigh ride through snowy pastures decorated for the season in a spectacular display of animated lights set to classic carols and holiday tunes.” There’d been nothing about waiting in line for forty minutes in frigid air for a two-person sleigh instead of a horse-drawn hay wagon that could carry thirty people. Nor that, though the cider and hot chocolate and coffee was free and plentiful, the port-o-potties were clear on the other side of the building and not marked. Or that the horses announced just what they thought of the whole situation by dropping their fragrant piles all over the place.

“You warm enough?” Brandon rubbed Leah’s mitten-clad hands between his thick gloves.

She leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, her bad foot propped up on a little pile of snow he’d pushed together to make a footstool for her. “Yep. That cider smells amazing.”

“You want some?”

She laughed. “I think one adventure to the porta-john was enough, don’t you?”

“We’re next, anyway,” Brandon said just as the white sleigh decorated with boughs of holly—and whatever the fa-la-la that other stuff was—jingled to a stop in the line. He stood, joints creaking from the cold, then bent to help her up.

Getting to the sleigh was slightly less of an adventure than taking her to the bathroom had been, and they were both giggling by the end of it as he helped her into the high seat. The driver looked over his shoulder at them, his scarf pulled up high on his mouth, his hat pulled low over his eyes.

“You guys ready?”

Leah settled onto the leather seat and pulled aside the thick quilts to make room for Brandon. “Hi.”

The driver ducked his head at her as the horse stamped impatiently, blowing out a breath into the cold air. “Hiya.”

Brandon took his seat and pulled the quilts up over their legs. “Warm. God.”

“The ride lasts about forty-five minutes, maybe a bit longer if we get backed up at some of the more popular attractions,” the driver said, sounding bored. “Prepare to be amazed by the coordinated light-and-music display of holiday cheer.”

“He sounds totally cheerful,” Leah whispered in Brandon’s ear when the driver turned back and clucked at the horses. “I’m amazed by his enthusiasm.”

Brandon leaned in to nuzzle at her cheek and murmur, “He’s probably It’s A Small World and Jingled Belled out. Just guessing.”

The sleigh jerked into motion, the horse setting off at a lazy pace. The driver chucked at it again and it went a little faster for a few steps, then slowed again. Leah got the giggles beside him as they pulled away from the waiting area and headed across a dark, snowy field. Just beyond them, down the dip of a hill, they could see the glow of what Brandon was sure was going to be a holiday display of the cheesiest proportions, but for now the sky was still dark enough that he could tip his face back and stare up at the bright points of the stars.

“So much for moonlight,” he said.

“I like it better this way. Dark.” Leah’s hand crept into his lap to give his crotch a sexy squeeze. “And the stars are so pretty.”

Brandon shifted his knees apart to give her better access, though he was pretty sure she wasn’t going to keep going. “Yeah.”

He breathed in the cold air that felt even colder now that they had the weight of the blankets on them. Cheesetastic and expensive it might be, but a sleigh ride at Christmastime with his wife was exactly as romantic as the brochure had promised.

Her fingers tightened briefly on his half-hard dick and pulled away as the sleigh went over the edge of the hill and down, the horse moving a little faster and the lights ahead of them now bright. They could hear the music, too, tinny at this distance but still familiar. It was, indeed, “It’s a Small World.”

The driver slowed the horse as it approached the first path of lighted displays, because as he’d predicted, they’d caught up to the hay wagon in front of them. The displays were pretty typical, tube lighting outlining traditional Christmas scenes. A house, a sleigh, a carousel. Reindeer that moved their heads up and down. All set to music.

“Pretty.” The lights reflected on Leah’s face, green and blue and red. She was smiling at the scenes in front of them.

“You’re prettier,” he said into her ear.

She looked at him. “Oh, am I?”

This time, he slipped his hand into her lap and pressed gently. He grinned. “Uh huh.”

He thought she’d shake her head or simply push his hand away, but to his delight, his wife just shifted on the seat, opening her thighs a little wider. There wasn’t much he could do through the denim of her jeans, but…well…he sure could try.

“Oh. Elves,” Leah murmured, her gaze on the first display they’d finally pulled up in front of. She rocked her hips just enough against his hand that he knew she wasn’t paying one damned bit of attention to the elves. “Look at the elves, Brandon.”

He did, not because he was worried the driver could see what was going on beneath the layers of quilts, but because Leah had told him to. Because it was sexy this way, something forbidden, something he was doing that normally she wouldn’t allow but he knew she really, really liked.

The next display was of a house with Santa’s sleigh on top and a fat Santa in front, waving in a steady metronome. The music had changed to a chorus of what sounded like castrati singing “O Tannenbaum.” Leah wrinkled her nose but didn’t look away from the lights and music. Didn’t look at him. She drew in a breath as he watched her.

With his fingers inside her, his mouth on her pussy, Brandon could usually tell what was working for her. But here, with the barriers of clothing between them, unable to sink into her heat or even able to tell if he was pressing her clit or some random spot, all he had to go on was the subtle shift of her expression.

Making his wife come was always a challenge, not because she had a hard time achieving orgasm but because, in purely feminine fashion, there was way more to getting her off than hitting the right spots. He could go down on her for an hour, and if she was worried about paying the mortgage, she might never come. If he switched up the pace too much, if the phone rang, if something on the television sounded too loud, she could lose her concentration. It seemed to him that a haphazard pressure against her clit through her jeans, jostling by the sleigh hitting bumps in the snowy path—hell, the entirely unsexy sound of adolescent boys with their nuts cut off singing about a Christmas tree—all of that should probably have made it really difficult for him to make her come.

But something told him she was getting close, anyway.

His dick was pressing almost painfully against his zipper, but he didn’t care. He’d get his later or suffer the ache of blue balls, it didn’t matter. For the moment, all Brandon really cared about was seeing if he could pull this off. Get her off. Make her lose a tiny bit of the control she so prided herself on keeping.

She wasn’t stopping him, but she wasn’t helping. Hadn’t unzipped her jeans to let him slip his fingers inside. Unspoken, she’d made rules he had to follow. Brandon bit the inside of his cheek against his grin. He could do that. No problem.

The people on the hay wagon ahead of them were cheering at something but had stalled again. The sleigh wasn’t moving. The driver stared ahead, maybe sullen or bored, maybe just discreet. All around them the music went on and on while Santa waved in a steady tick-tock.

Tick, tock. Press, release. Over and over, Brandon pushed his knuckles against her.

Her lips parted. Just slightly. She didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him.

It was enough to tell him he was on the right path.

Leah let out a tiny cry when the sleigh started up again, and it sounded like it could’ve been because she was startled by the sudden jerk. But Brandon knew better. He didn’t change the pressure, though, or the pace. They passed by the Santa and on to the next display, but he kept up the same steady tick-tock of his knuckles against her.

The ride was, as the driver had predicted, closer to an hour than forty-five minutes. By the end of it, Leah’s eyelashes had begun to flutter in a familiar way and, when she forced herself to focus, her eyes had a certain glaze in them that Brandon loved. She stumbled getting out of the sleigh, and he caught her, but he was pretty sure this time it had nothing to do with her sore ankle.

“Get me home,” she muttered into his ear as he helped her stand upright. “As fast as possible.”

Twenty minutes later he was up to his balls inside her, both of them not even undressed. They hadn’t even made it more than a few feet past the front door. Pants around his ankles, her jeans undone and shoved to her thighs, he lifted her, hands under her ass, and used the wall behind her to steady himself as he fucked deep inside her. It always worked better in the movies, but for right now, this moment, these three minutes, it was fucking magic.

“I’m going to call you Fuckmachine from now on,” she said to him on a gasp that became a giggle as he started to slip out of her when they’d both come within seconds of each other. “Oh…oops.”

He put her down gently, holding her carefully because neither of them was too steady on their feet. “Fuckmachine, huh? It’s better than Bingo.” Or Band Boy, which was what Leah’s friend Kate liked to call him.

Leah pushed up on her good set of toes to kiss his mouth. “Yes. Fuckmachine. ‘Dear Fuckmachine, please pick up the dry cleaning on the way home.’ It has a ring, doesn’t it?”

“If I’m Fuckmachine, what do I call you?” This was a game with them. She’d told him long ago she would never make him call her Mistress or anything like that. Usually he stuck with honey, baby, sometimes a sweetie if he was feeling particularly smooshy.

“Hmm.” She kissed him again and then pulled her panties and jeans up before limping toward the kitchen. “Right now, how about Gimpy.”

“Fuckmachine and Gimpy. Sounds like a really bad porno movie.”

He heard her laughter from the kitchen, then the sound of the mini-fridge opening, the crack of a cola tab. He found her pouring them both glasses of soda. She tossed a bag of chips on the table, too.

“Aren’t most porno movies bad in some way or another?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Brandon said self-righteously. “I don’t watch them.”

“Ha. Only the free ones on Youporn. I have your number, Fuckmachine, and your internet browsing history. Don’t even try to tell me otherwise.” She handed him his glass and stole another kiss. “Unless you want me to put the parental blocks on the internet or something.”

She paused, looking into his face, her lips brushing his again. “Hmm…would that be considered a disciplinary action?”

“Maybe if I don’t scrub the floor good enough, you can cut off my porn privileges,” he offered with wide eyes, putting on the innocent face he knew she loved.

Leah tweaked his nose and kissed him again, then hugged him hard and unexpectedly tight. “God, I love you.”

He hugged her back, pulling her onto his lap for a cuddle. “I love you too.”

She buried her face into his neck, her breath warm on him. He thought she might say something else, but Leah stayed quiet. And for just then, Brandon was content to sit there and hold her without saying anything either.

* * *

Two days before Christmas, four into their vacation, and they’d eaten at every restaurant within walking distance of the condo complex and taken every tour offered that didn’t require a lot of walking. Snow had been falling steadily since the night before and, though Leah was pretty sure Vail had more than its share of snow, the people here were acting like it was some sort of magic.

It was pretty, she thought with a glance out the window. But nothing special. Nothing here felt that special, not the lights, the music or the Dickensian carolers on the street corner. Her husband, on the other hand, still felt and looked and smelled and tasted special. This vacation had been fantastic for their sex life, which, to be fair, was pretty spectacular anyway but had fallen into a regular once or twice a week rut over the past few months.

“This game is ridiculous. What, Parcheesi would’ve been out of the question?” Brandon gestured at the game board of alternating blue and red spaces and the two stacks of cards.

They’d found the game in the closet. Truth or Dare. The premise was simple but “sexy times for couples!” had been imprinted on the front of the plain black box in swirly hot pink letters. Brandon had made fun of it at once, but Leah had teased him into playing.

“You say that because you’re losing,” she told him.

“I’m saying it because it’s lame.” He shook the dice in the cardboard tube and let them roll, then moved his marker four spots.

Leah pulled a card from the Dare pile with a smirk. Dares were worth ten points, but so far all of them had been either slightly humiliating or stupid. “Blow your own horn,” she read, then flipped the card to show him the genderless stick figure illustration of a person, legs over its head, face buried in its crotch. “If you can do that, Fuckmachine, I will divorce you.”

He was laughing and shaking his head. “Why?”

“Because you won’t have any need for me anymore.” She tossed the card down. “Let’s see it, bendyman.”

“Nope. No way. Not even gonna try it.”

“Fine.” Leah rolled, got a six, landed on a Truth spot. “Five points for me!”

“You have to answer the question first.” He pulled a card and read, “What sexual act have you wanted to do but never did?”

That wasn’t a bad question, actually, not like some of them had been. “Hmm. Nothing.”

“Oh, c’mon. Really? Everyone has something they wanted to do but never did.”

Leah thought quickly about her sexual history. Most of it had been good. There’d been some bad times, most notably with Mike, her ex, but even that had been more about doing things she didn’t want to do. And since meeting Brandon… “Honestly, baby, anything I’ve ever really wanted to do, I’ve done. With you. I can’t think of anything I’ve wanted to do that we haven’t done.”

He looked pleased. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious!” She leaned across the coffee table to poke him, but he captured her hand and kissed the fingertips. “I am, Brandon.”

“Well. Good.”

She eyed him. “What about you?”

He let go of her hand, studiously writing down her five points on the notepad that had come with the game. “Hmm?”

“Look at me.”

He did, but this time she wasn’t interested in a fake-innocent look. “What sexual thing have you wanted to do that you haven’t?”

Brandon shrugged. “Umm…nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” She fixed him with a steady, stern look. “Spill it.”

“Two women at once?”

“That sounded like a question, not an answer. You can tell me, you know. I mean, it’s not like we can’t be honest with each other.” Leah swallowed, a little uneasy. What on earth could he want to do that they hadn’t already done?

There was a list seven miles long, actually, of places they’d not yet gone. She knew her sweet-faced choirboy of a husband wasn’t nearly as innocent as she liked him to pretend to be. He was curious, open-minded and, frankly, spent a lot more time on the internet than she did. There was no telling what he’d stumbled across in some of those forums she knew he’d joined.

For Leah, it was not about lingerie or binding his hands, or leaving him lists, or making him obey. Those were the little kinks they both enjoyed, things that got them hot and bothered. But her need to top him was deeper than that. It was not about making him obey her, but about triggering something in both of them, mentally and not just physically. The sex was great, yes, but she gained just as much pleasure from knowing Brandon hung her laundry in color-coordinated rows because he knew how much she hated doing the laundry. It was about letting him take care of her totally and completely, which was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do—allow him so close to her she didn’t have to worry he’d ever let her down. They had a life together. Not a “lifestyle.”

“Every guy wants to be with two women.”

“I’m sure every guy does, which is why I know you’re full of shit,” she told him. “I mean, I’m not saying that you wouldn’t love it. But I don’t believe that’s what you’re really thinking about when you jack your cock in the shower.”

He gave her a rueful smile. “Sometimes it is.”

Leah didn’t laugh. “What about the other times?”

“I’d like to tie you up. Use a blindfold.”

Of all the things he could’ve said, it wasn’t exactly the most shocking, and he’d said it hesitantly. Gently. There was no reason for her to recoil, but that’s what she did.

“Leah. I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“Shh,” she told him, her brow furrowed. Mouth sewn tight to stop herself from saying something she didn’t want to say.

Brandon went quiet at once. He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. He kissed her palm as she cupped his cheek. He closed his eyes, breathing, and his shoulders rose and fell.

Before Brandon, Leah had spent too many months with Mike, who’d been all too happy to fulfill what had been her misunderstood desire. With Mike, Leah had been the submissive one, but—unlike the relationship she’d built with Brandon upon mutual desire and respect, not just top and bottom—Mike had taken advantage of Leah’s willingness to serve him. He hadn’t abused her. Nothing like that. He’d used his neckties to attach her hands to the bedposts not because she liked it, but because he’d read about it in a men’s magazine and had thought it sounded “kinky.” Mike had turned out to be an enormous, arrogant dick and Leah had walked away determined never to let another man dominate her ever again.

Yet it had taken meeting Brandon for her inherently dominant side to emerge, and even then she’d fought what it meant to be on top. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to taste it, now.

“Not because I want to boss you around,” he said quietly. “But because I think you’d like it.”

“I’ve been tied up. I don’t like it,” she said bluntly, not wanting to remind him she’d fucked other men, that he wasn’t her first kinky relationship, but saying it anyway.

“Because I think you’d like it if you could just…enjoy it.”

She looked into his eyes. “I enjoy being with you. Like we are.”

He smiled. “I know. But you’re always thinking. You’re always, you know…in control.”

Leah swallowed, seeking words and not finding the ones that made the best sense. “I thought you liked that, too.”

“I do.” He shrugged a little. “Fuck me, I really do. But sometimes, you know, when you give me a list, when you tell me what to do, how to stand or what to wear, or how long to lick you…it’s so easy to just get all caught up in that. A little bit lost, in a good way. A great way. I don’t have to think about anything. I don’t have to wonder if I’m going to make you come, because you tell me just exactly how to do it. I…well, I fucking love it.”

“Good,” she breathed.

“I want to do that for you. That’s all. I want you to sometimes just not have to worry about anything. Not be in charge. Just…” He looked uncomfortable. “Give up to me. Just a little.”

Leah took her hand from his and tucked both of them against her sides while she thought about this. She felt hot, a little shaky…but not entirely repulsed. “Brandon, you know I trust you.”

“I hope so.”

“Is this what you really want?”

He nodded, no longer looking hesitant or uncomfortable.

Leah sighed, swallowing again, her throat a little tight. Their relationship had never been about one of them forcing the other into something. It wouldn’t be, now. “Okay.”

She blew out a breath, expecting her gut to get tight but, instead, giggling at the look on his face. Brandon blinked rapidly, then burst into one of those brilliant smiles she found so incredibly lovely. He leaned across the table to kiss her.

“I love you. You know that?” he said. “You’re awesome.”

“You’re horny.”

“Well. That,” he said and kissed her more slowly. “But you’re still awesome.”

She took his face in her hands. “Now?”

“It doesn’t have to be now.”

She wiggled to reach around and cup his crotch. “This says now.”

“I’m not going to turn it down,” Brandon said. “But I want you to be sure this is okay.”

She tilted her head to study him. “You know when we play, I never do anything you don’t want, and all you ever have to do is tell me to stop, and I will. I trust you.”

He nodded. Then he pushed the table out of the way, scattering the game, and bent to scoop her up. Leah let out a breathless flurry of nervous giggles and clung to him. He was so big, he always made her feel tiny and precious.

But never small.

“Do what you want to me,” Leah whispered and was rewarded by the flash of desire in his dark eyes.

In the bedroom, he settled her on the same chair she’d been on a few days ago. There, her husband slipped her T-shirt over her head and unhooked her bra. He eased her jeans over her hips, shifting her to lift her ass so he could get them off. Then her panties. Then he wiggled her into position on the chair and put his hands to his waist.

“Oh,” Leah said.

One of the first times they’d ever fucked, she’d bound his hands behind him with the belt he now pulled inch by slow inch from the loops. The sound of it, that thwack, thwack of leather against denim, tightened her nipples and sent a pulse to her clit.

She put her hands behind her and he slid the loop of leather over her wrists. Not tight enough to hurt or even really tie her—at any moment she could move if she wanted to.

She didn’t.

Brandon pulled a hand-woven silk scarf from her suitcase. He’d bought it for her from an arts festival. She usually wore it in her hair or draped lightly around her throat. Now he doubled the fabric and tied it over her eyes. The darkness wasn’t complete and, in fact, if she tipped her head she could see beneath it. She closed her eyes instead.

And then, she waited.

She waited for him to stick his cock in her mouth or to grab her breasts. Shove a hand between her legs. She should have known better; her Brandon would never be so crass.

He breathed on her, instead. Hot, silky breath on her face. Over her cheek, her jaw, down her throat, until she tipped her head back in an unconscious appeal for him to put his mouth to her skin. He did, but briefly, his lips soft and unhurried but not lingering. Over her bare shoulder. Behind her, down her arm. To her hand, and then her fingers. He kissed them one at a time, sucking gently in her forefinger, then gently biting the soft pad of flesh at the tip.

With the scarf on her eyes and her hands immobilized, all she could do was imagine what might come next. And Brandon was right, there was something intensely arousing about not having to think so hard, not having to direct the show. Leah drew in a long, deep breath and let it out. She gave up to him.

He took his time about it. Touching her gently, then harder when she sighed and wriggled. Murmuring words of love as he made love to her with his hands and mouth without ever moving her from the chair.

By the time he stroked his cock across her closed lips, she was ready to open them to him. Leah drew in a breath at the sensation of his flesh on hers, at the tangle of his fingers in her hair. But she opened her mouth anyway and took him inside. Without her hands she couldn’t guide him, but she didn’t worry he’d push too deep or gag her. She trusted him, and Brandon didn’t betray that trust as he pushed gently inside. She sucked and was rewarded by the sound of his moan, a sound that sent an instant jolt of pleasure between her legs.

He liked getting head, of course he did. The same way she liked it when he was on his knees lapping at her pussy but forbidden from using his hands. She didn’t miss the echo of their earlier lovemaking, and remembering how it felt to be the one in charge added to the sensations building inside her now as the one at her husband’s mercy.

She wasn’t new to this—she’d been on the bottom many times in the past before admitting to herself she really wanted to be on top. But she was new to being like this for Brandon, and somehow that made it all different. He didn’t force, didn’t push, just gave her the chance to suck his cock after spending enough time making sure she’d want to.

His cock, slick from her attentions, slipped from her lips, and Leah turned her head to feel it against her cheek. She laughed, low. A face full of dick was so ridiculous and porny, yet she knew it had to be turning him on to see it.

“Beautiful,” came his whisper, and there was so much reverence in his voice she wanted to weep.

She lost track of time and floated on the sensations. A kiss to her collarbone. A stroke of something soft along the inside of her thigh. The press of his fingers inside her and withdrawn, the scent of her arousal as he drew them across her lips. Desire rose inside her.

This, too, was beauty.

It wasn’t like anything had ever been; it was everything she’d once imagined she wanted only now made real. Giving up to him this way was a gift Brandon had given her and, like a gift, she felt herself being opened, revealed. Unwrapped.

By the time he tugged loose the belt and lifted her from the chair to carry her to the bed, Leah was riding wave after wave of pleasure. When he pulled off the blindfold, she nearly came from the sight of his face, taut with desire.

They made love without bells and whistles, no fireworks shooting from their asses as they hung upside down from the chandelier and sang “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” Him on top, her underneath and holding on to him with her arms and legs as he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

Her orgasm stole over her, quicksilver fast and fleeting, followed moments later by a deeper, slower flurry of tremors. Her nails dug into his back as she hooked her heels around the backs of his calves and urged him into her. Harder, deeper, faster.

Maybe there was a lot to say about this, or maybe neither of them needed words to describe it. At any rate, Leah drifted as sweetly into sleep as Brandon had led her into orgasm.

* * *

“Let’s get out of here.”

Brandon had been dozing when she said it. “Huh?”

Leah rolled toward him. “This place. It was a great idea, honey, and I don’t want you to think it wasn’t. But this isn’t Christmas. Let’s go to your parents’ house.”

He looked at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.”

He frowned and sat up. “You mean it?”

She sat, too. “I want there to be a tree and presents and gingerbread houses. And eggnog. I want to be woken up at six in the morning by the kids who can’t wait to see what Santa brought.”

He was silent for a moment. “You don’t just mean this year, right?”

She shook her head. “No. I mean always. I mean us, a family. Sooner rather than later.”

“Are you sure? I thought maybe you’d want it to be just…us.”

She smiled. “I know how disappointed you’ll be to have to give up random dick sucking in the kitchen, but I think the benefits will outweigh the disadvantages, don’t you?”

Unexpectedly, the thought lifted something inside him, and he kissed her. “Damn, I love it when you get all tech-speak with me.”

“Mmm. But I mean it. Let’s check out. Change our flight. Let’s have Christmas in Iowa this year and, who knows, maybe next year we’ll get to have the tiny stocking.”

This revelation on top of her agreeing to let him tie her up sort of floored him, and he wasn’t sure what to say. “Umm…okay?”

Leah rolled on top of him, straddling him and pinning his hands over his head. “Don’t worry, Fuckmachine. I will still sully you every chance I get.”

He could’ve bumped his hips and nudged her off him, but that wasn’t the point. “Promise?”

“Absolutely. And sometimes I’ll even let you tie me up.”

“Really?” Brandon felt the grin spread across his mouth. “Promise that, too?”

“Yep.” His wife let go of his wrists and sat up, looking so beautiful it made his heart hurt. “Things change all the time, baby, but that doesn’t mean this has to. Or that we will.”

“I guess we’ll find out, huh?”

Leah smiled and leaned to kiss him again. “Yes. We will.”

* * *

Gingerbread houses, eggnog liberally spiked with liquor, fire burning in the fireplace, and a room full of rowdy, overexcited children tearing through wrapping paper and gift bags. This was Christmas, Leah thought, curled against Brandon’s side on his brother Brent’s couch. She had a belly stuffed with turkey and stuffing, a mug of Irish coffee in one hand and her husband by her side. Nothing could be better.

Sure, the mattress in his childhood bedroom was lumpy and they couldn’t exactly make wild monkey love all day and night the way they’d been doing on vacation. Sure, the kids were out of control, but his mom had cried and clung to them when they showed up on her doorstep, making Leah feel more welcomed and at home than she had for most of her life. Her ankle had even started feeling better.

Brandon, in the midst of conversation with his brother, kissed her temple absently. No big deal. Not even really paying attention. Yet that tiny, simple gesture moved her as much as if he’d jumped up in front of everyone and shouted out how much he loved her.

She looked at the fireplace mantel, which held the so-called “tiny stocking” and would until someone else had a baby. Maybe next year the tiny stocking would be theirs. Maybe not.

Still laughing at something his brother had said, Brandon eased her cooled mug from her fingers and stood. “I’ll get you some more.”

When he’d disappeared into the kitchen, she discreetly thumbed a text message into her phone.

When he returned, as he bent to kiss her and press a fresh mug of coffee into her hand, Brandon whispered into her ear. “Just as soon as we get back to my folks’.”

They laughed together at the silly task she’d set for him and which he’d take such pleasure in performing, their own private joke that nobody else had to know. And later they laughed again, trying not to make the bed squeak as Brandon did everything Leah had requested of him.

This was beauty, she thought as she drifted off to sleep with his warmth beside her.

This was love.

And that didn’t ever have to change.

About the Author

Megan Hart was born and lived for a while, and she did some stuff. Then some other stuff. Eventually, she started writing books. Now some of them get published. She writes in the woods of Pennsylvania, where she lives with Superman and two monsters…erm…children. Learn more about her at her website, www.meganhart.com, or her blog, www.readinbed.net.

Believe

By Lauren Dane

Their First Christmas, Bound Together…

All Jude wants for Christmas is Rori, all to himself. It’s their first holiday season as a couple, and staying home, seeing friends and family, means they’ll be surrounded by the memory of Rori’s late husband. It’s time for Jude and Rori to create their own traditions. Time for them to fully explore their most intimate desires to dominate and submit.

Rori is thrilled when Jude whisks her away to a luxury resort in the mountains. Spending Christmas away, just the two of them, is the perfect time to show him she’s ready to give herself to him completely…

Dedication

This one is for the readers who’ve been asking me for more of Rori and Jude for years now.

Thanks to the many folks at Twitter who responded so generously to my request for information about holiday getaways – I don’t know where I’d be without the Twitter hivemind.

Chapter One

Two weeks. He’d been gone while attending a training in Dallas for two whole weeks and it had sucked. Being without him wasn’t something she was used to, or that she liked in any way.

But to pass the time and to give him a Christmas present she knew he’d love, Rori had gone to a tattoo parlor with their friend Ryan and had her right shoulder done. Nothing too big or brash. A pretty, stylized melding of her initials and his, wrapped around an infinity symbol. She wanted to mark her commitment to him in a tangible way.

He was due back tomorrow and she could hardly wait. She missed him in a way she couldn’t have understood without him being gone. Realized how much he did for her. The place he filled in her life and in her heart. In the time they’d lived together, before they were a couple and then in the months after, he’d become essential to her. He looked at her and made her feel like the most beautiful woman alive.

As if by some sort of magic, he knew just what she needed and when she needed it. He was her other half. He made her laugh. Didn’t hog the covers, hefted the heavy stuff and didn’t balk if she asked him to pick up tampons at the grocery store. He saw straight to her heart and he loved her anyway. Having that connection with him was the finest thing in her life and something she figured she’d never be lucky enough to feel once Zach, her former husband, had been murdered nearly two years before.

But she had him. He had her and she was, indeed, blessed.

Again, she thought this was the case when she came around the corner on the last block to their house and saw him on the porch. Laughing, she double timed it, jogging toward him and pausing, just a moment, at the front walk to take a long look at what was hers.

She took a good look from the tips of his scuffed cowboy boots, up the long legs covered in pale, worn denim, the bulge at his lap, the narrow waist with the tucked-in shirt and belt buckle. She caught her breath as her pulse galloped. She loved every tall, lean, muscled inch of his body. Her gaze moved again, up the chest she nibbled her way down as often as she could, the wide shoulders and work-strong arms and up into a face she’d dreamed of for years and years, never imagining she’d wake up to it every morning.

Falling into his gaze.

He leaned back against the porch, stretching out and preening just a little for her. The smile on his lips brought her nipples to attention.

Jude Callahan in all his glory.

The road that had brought them together—that had built this relationship she gave thanks for every single day—had been a hard one. Filled with pain and loss. And yet, there he was on their porch, with eyes only for her, with a smile that spoke of delicious secrets only she knew.

“Now look what I got here. Come on up here, sugar, let me taste those lips.”

As if she had anything else she’d rather do just then?

She moved to him, up the steps and into his arms, and came home.

His mouth on hers, as always, settled in for a taste. Exactly how he wanted. She sighed, opening to him, melting against him, glorying in his flavor, in the way his arms held her to his body.

The heat of him forced the chill of the cold December day from her bones. When she shivered, it was for an entirely different reason than the cold.

“Now then.” He set her away from him, his eyes going half-lidded when she licked her lips to get that last bit of him she could for the moment. “I feel lots better.”

“Good. My work is done then.” Because she could, she took another tour from his toes to his gorgeous face. “You’re home! A whole day early. What are you doing out here? It’s cold. Did you lose your keys? Not that I mind, it sure made that last half block easier to see you waiting up here for me looking all handsome and stuff.”

“I had the chance to catch an earlier flight so I grabbed it. The last day wasn’t anything I hadn’t done before so I got out of there and back here to you. Glad I did.” He hugged her again and she snuggled back into his body.

“Yay.” She kept hold, not wanting to let go just yet of how good he felt.

“Just got home about three minutes ago. I saw you cross the street over at Alder and decided to wait. You jiggle pretty-like when you jog up the steps.”

“Pervert.” She swished past him and into the house, reaching out to take his hand as she passed. That thread of their connection shimmered and solidified. That space he took up inside her warmed and settled in.

“This shouldn’t be news to you.”

Once the door was closed and locked, he pulled the window shades closed before turning back her way. “Now then. You’re here and I’m here and we don’t even have to webcam. Though I will say I find having you naked and fingering your pussy on camera for me while I’m away sure does make the time apart a little easier to bear.”

She sighed happily, taking the coat he had in his hands and moving to the closet to hang it up for him.

“Good. I felt positively wanton.” Funny how he did that, enticed her to do things that made her blush, knowing she’d get off on them once she let go.

He laughed. “Only for me, darlin’. Now. You and me, naked. Sweaty. I think some writhing might help too.”

“I have something for you first.” She took his hand and drew him down the hall to their bedroom.

“I was getting to that. That’s part of the naked sweaty plan I was proposing.”

“No silly. Your Christmas present. The big one anyway.”

“Christmas is three weeks away. You’re so impatient.” He grinned. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

She moved to their dresser, pausing before the mirror. Meeting his gaze in its reflection, she paused a beat until his attention was focused on her so intently she shivered as if she could feel it like a phantom caress.

“Well, as it happens, your being gone was good for my plans.” Facing him, she reached down to pull her sweater up and over her head and then shimmied from her bra.

“Liking this so far.”

She turned, bowing her head, waiting for him to see the tat.

“Holy shit.” In the space of a breath he was on her, standing so near the heat of him blanketed her bare back. He leaned close, his breath against her skin as he brushed the hair away from her shoulder, exposing the tattoo to his view.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. Do you like it?” It was important—she knew that right then—that he did.

“Rori, this is… No one but you has ever touched me like this.” Gentle fingertips traced over the ink, replaced by his lips. “It’s beautiful. I want one too, just like yours. In the same place.”

She smiled, her hair covering her face. “I’d like that.”

“And now you have to help me with my problem. You created this, you need to fix it.”

She turned. Knowing what his next words would be did not blunt their effect when he spoke.

“On your knees. Suck my cock just the way I like it.”

She knelt quickly, her hands moving to his belt and the zip and button of his jeans. Just how she liked it too. His clothes still on as she knelt there in his gaze. Totally naked. It amped up the power between them, crackling against her skin as she leaned in and brushed her cheek over the line of his cock before turning her head to kiss the ridge where he was most sensitive.

Time seemed to slow, draw out with honeyed sensuality as it often did when she found herself on her knees for him. His cock, standing fierce and hard, drew her attention and she went back for another long lick and some more kisses before she took him at the root, angled him just so and took a deep breath. Bit by bit, she took him deep, keeping him wet, the way he liked it best.

His fingers sifted through her hair and then tightened, sending a shiver through her, hardening her nipples, where the rings he’d given her swayed, sending a pulse of desire through her pussy. Her groan around him only made him harder against her tongue.

“I love it when you do that,” he murmured. “When you groan half pain, half desire and then you keep sucking my cock. When you give yourself to me it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.”

He wasn’t a man prone to empty flattery. Not by this time in their relationship. Shallow, flirty Jude had gone, grown into a man whose word meant everything. So when soft words, especially those laced with darkness, flowed from him, it got to her.

“Wait.” He said it, but he didn’t sound very sure about it. She paused for a moment, letting him decide. He put a hand on her shoulder and she pulled back with a slight pop.

The way he stalked over to the chest at the foot of their bed made her tremble just a bit, knowing what he had in store for her.

“You’re too pretty not to be bound right now.” He turned toward her, the wrist cuffs dangling from his fingertips.

Swallowing did little to help her suddenly dry mouth. And then he brought out the blindfold and she blinked several times, not bothering to hold back her smile. He knew what got to her. He knew. He used it. Pushed her buttons. Her boundaries. And brought her more pleasure than she’d ever imagined.

Within moments he’d secured the blindfold, the fuzzy inner lining light, tight and very soft against her face. Another contrast, just like the man who’d put it in place. “Hands at the small of your back.”

Without her sight, she let her skin come alive. Let her other senses come to the forefront. She didn’t bother to stop her soft whimper of pleasure when he slid the loosened cuff, also lined, over first one wrist and then the other, tightening until the leather creaked just right. The metal of the hasp jingled slightly, a whisper of what was to come and she let herself fall into it, let herself get captured by his spell.

“When you’re done. After I’ve come in your mouth and you’ve pleased me. I’m going to stand back and look at you. Look my fill at what a beautiful woman I’m blessed to have in my life.” Clothing rustled as he paused. “And then I’m going to use the chains and weights on your nipples.”

She gulped at the phantom sensation blooming through her nipples at the memory of the tug, the slight pain of the weighted beads that would then rush into unbelievable pleasure when he took them off.

He chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Now, my cock is right in front of your mouth. Suck me off, baby.”

She took him deep, as deep as she could. Over and over, the movements as entrancing in their own way as the cuffs were. It created a sense of ritual without seeming rote.

His taste wended through her. The feel of his cock in her mouth, the way he touched her, the sounds he made—it all combined to bind them together again after their time apart.

He had a way of murmuring the sweetest things to her when she was on her knees for him, even while some of them were utterly dirty and made her blush, the emotion behind them, the way the awe and love was so clear in his voice made them beautiful instead of hard or ugly.

That’s what love did and it was the core of why she loved being dominated by him so much, why it made her feel beautiful instead of a thing. He took the reins, but never her control, never her personhood. She gave him her control, gave him the power to lead them, but in doing so, gained her own.

Whatever it was, however they described it, it was love and it worked.

“Are you ready, baby?” His voice was passion rough. She knew his eyes would be glossy with desire, his lips wet from the way he drew his tongue over them right before he came. Knew he only looked at her as she gave him pleasure.

She hummed her assent and he thrust into her mouth one last time, filling her as he came on a snarl of her name.

“I love you, darlin’.” He helped her up and led her to their bed. “Kneel here for me. I want to look at you awhile.”

Gooseflesh broke as she knew he meant to drag her pleasure out. Knew that when he made her come at last it would be spectacular and bone deep.

And so she knelt on their bed, falling into that space in her head where she relaxed like a cat in a sunny window.

* * *

Jude moved to his favorite chair to get his breath back as he took her in. Truly, he’d seen a lot of naked women in his time and none of them could even approach her level of beauty. It wasn’t just her outside, though, truth be told, she was a gorgeous woman. It was the way she knelt there, knowing he watched her, knowing just how much she affected him.

Her submission was the most beautiful part of his life. Strong, like she was. Her submission did not make her weak in any way. He loved her independence and energy and the way she gave herself to him would be meaningless if she had no choice, or he bullied it from her.

He thought about the mark she’d had done. Just for him. For them. Another step, this one so big and important it had sent him reeling. It was one thing to wear his necklace or the rings in her body. That tattoo on her shoulder, the ink in her skin was a public declaration of their relationship. She’d done it for him, for them, and he needed to process it all.

Because she’d done it when he needed it most and the way she saw straight to the heart of him left him exposed totally. Loved. Appreciated and laid wide open. All for her. All for them.

Chapter Two

Her hands clasped at the curve of her back. The cuffs were tight enough to remind her she was bound, but not tight enough to truly hurt. The edge of the leather poked against the tender flesh of her wrists. Each time she shifted even just slightly, she felt the rasp there, sending waves of pleasure rolling through her senses. Her nipples throb, throb, throbbed as the chain with the tiny weights swayed with her breathing.

She knew Jude sat in a chair nearby, watching her with hungry eyes. That knowledge caught her breath, bringing her tongue to swipe over her lips. Lips swollen from his kisses, salty with the taste of him. Of his cock.

She had to imagine it, use her other senses in the absence of her sight and the ability to touch. Imagining it was part of the allure, knowing he was there, knowing how he watched her with greedy eyes, knowing he saw her as beautiful and desirable intensified the experience.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The slow, sticky-warm drawl of his voice brought a hitch to her breath. Such a sexy sound, filled with enough awe that she believed every bit of praise he gave. Made her feel like the most magnificent woman to ever live. Certainly the luckiest one.

He stood. She could hear the rustle and then the steps he took toward where she knelt on the bed. His scent caught her first. That all-man smell he had. Warm. The heat of his body caressed her as he got close enough to lean down and press a kiss on her shoulder.

“I do believe I want you again. I think my cock is foolhardy to undertake such a goal when I just blew down your pretty throat only ten minutes ago. But—” he paused to chuckle, “—where you’re concerned, my cock is a little greedy.”

“Please,” she managed to say. His nearness pulled her from the soft, cushioned space she’d been in. Needing to feel his skin against hers, his cock inside her body where it was meant to be.

He caressed her skin, running his hands up and down her back, she knew, pausing to look at the tattoo that’d started this little interlude. She’d uncovered it and his gaze had gone hooded when she met it in the mirror she stood before. Her knees had gone to rubber when he ordered her to them.

Jude’s cock jumped at the sound the cuffs made when she shifted a little. The tiny shuss of metal against metal and leather. It mixed with the scent of her cunt, the heat of her skin, her shampoo and the cinnamon of the gum she’d been chewing before she’d come home.

Though this was far from the first time, each time he touched her it was as if he fell in love with her anew. He paused to unclip one nipple and then the other, knowing sensation would rush back and bring her more pleasure. God, he loved looking at her when she was like this. Eyes covered with the deep purple satin mask, breasts thrust forward, nipples hard and dark from the weights and her own arousal, hands bound at her back. On her knees. Because he liked it. Because it pleased him and she wanted that too.

Christ, he was the most fortunate man alive that this woman had cleaved herself to him.

And he’d nearly lost her forever.

Driven back to near frantic need by that thought, he picked her up and carried her back to the chair he’d been sitting in. “I want you, darlin. On my cock.” As he said it, he moved her just so, astride his lap, mesmerized by the O of pleasure her lips made as he thrust up and into that welcoming heat.

He paused as she tightened and fluttered around him.

Nothing else could ever compare to this. To the way her cunt slid around his cock, hugging him as he fucked into her.

Taking a deep breath, he kissed up her neck as he undid her wrists so she could hold on. Her hands sought his shoulders as she rose up and then moved back down his cock. “Yes. Just like that. Slow and deep.” She’d keep the mask on because he hadn’t told her otherwise. The beauty of that, the dark power of it wrapped around them both.

Her breath hitched as she began to ride him. Just like he’d asked.

Her nipple begged for more against his left palm while the fingers of his other hand walked down her belly and spread her pussy open, exposing the ring there. Her clit swollen and needy.

“Shhh,” he murmured as he flicked a fingertip over it and she whimpered.

“More.” Her voice threaded with need.

“There’s always more where you’re concerned,” he managed to stutter out as she squirmed, arching closer as he idly flicked a fingertip over her clit.

She was ready, as he knew she would be. He’d teased her to the point where she’d explode when he gave her the right speed and intensity of pressure. Knowing she was also hyper-sensitive, he kept his fingers against her light and steady, until her soft murmurs and entreaties had nearly driven him right over the edge again.

“Are you ready to come?” He whispered it against her temple, pinching her nipple just so.

“Yes. God, yes!”

“All right then, come all over my cock, Rori.”

He gave her a tiny bit more pressure, just what she needed to cross over and fly apart in his arms, the rush of her wet heat coating his cock as she squeezed him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

At that point, he was too close to resist the allure of thrusting up into her one last time, deep and hard, unloading himself with jerk after jerk of his cock until they both sighed long and rested against the other.

When he pulled the mask off, her eyelids fluttered open and their gazes locked. “I love you, Jude.”

He smiled, his heart swelling to the point of bursting. “I love you too, Rori.” Shifting her a bit, he dipped to kiss the tip of her nose. “I guess since you just gave me your Christmas present, I should give you mine.” He preferred to surprise her closer to the date, but because of what the present was, he knew she’d need the time to plan around it.

“Is it in your pants?”

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He kissed her again and lost himself in her—the way he had every time he touched her. His hands fisted in her hair, tugging her closer and she made a soft sound. “Now then. I think I can live another hour or so without having you again.”

Alert at the prospect of presents, she sat up and scrambled off his lap. “I thought you said it was three weeks away. Not that I’m complaining,” she amended quickly.

Laughing, he got up and tugged her toward their bathroom. “Shower and then present.” He kept an eye on her in the many mirrors as he turned the taps on. The pipes were old and it was December so it took a while to get the water hot enough for a shower.

She leaned back into his body as he massaged the shampoo into her scalp. She loved the way he was with her. Gentle like this, sweet and giving. He took care of her in ways that made her life easy. Made sure she never had to do anything unpleasant. Well, he couldn’t make her mother go away, but other than that part, he made her feel like a cosseted princess.

“Should I even ask you what that smile is about?” He moved so she could rinse her hair and took liberties with her soap-slick nipples in the meantime.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have a man like you to love me.”

“You always say the very right thing at the perfect time.”

He soaped her body up far more than was necessary but she had no plans to complain. He made her forget her own name sometimes with the way he touched her.

Sometime later, ensconced on the couch in front of a roaring fire in the fireplace and the tea she’d made steeping in the pot, she sighed happily as he leaned back into her fingers where she massaged his shoulders. “You’re so good to me,” he murmured.

“Pffft. No more than you deserve. Now, about my present?”

He laughed, settling back into her so she could wrap her arms around him and hold on tight.

“I know we both normally spend Christmas at Kelly and Max’s house.” Kelly was Rori’s sister and she was married to Max, Jude’s brother. They’d all grown up together and spent the holidays as a family since Rori had returned to Oakley some years before.

“This will be our first Christmas as a couple.” He paused and she kissed the top of his head. “So I thought we could, you know, get away for a few days. Make our own holiday celebration.”

She smiled but he couldn’t see it so she kissed him again. “Really?”

“There’s a place in Highlands. In North Carolina. A few hours drive from here. It overlooks the valley. High enough to get snow sometimes the owner said. Our own cabin at the resort. Private and secluded. Restaurant looks good, but they have room service too if we want it.”

She scrambled around him to wrap herself around his waist, wanting him to see how much she loved this present. “Just you and me for Christmas? Really?”

He nodded. “Is that all right? Four nights. We’d be back for the New Year’s Eve party your sister is planning. I know we spend it with family and all. But I thought it would be nice to get away.”

Just the two of them.

They needed it, she knew. She sure as heck wanted it. Wanted to make their own traditions without the shadow of Zach between them.

“Silly, we will be with family. You and I are a family, aren’t we? I love the idea. It’s fabulous and I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”

He smiled. “I’ve arranged coverage at work. No calls in the middle of the night. The cabin we’re in is secluded, so you can make all the noise you want and we won’t have our nephews at the front door first thing in the morning begging for breakfast or to go hiking or what have you. I can have my wicked way with you over and over.”

“Lots of wicked ways. I heartily endorse this plan, Jude. Thank you.” It would be good to leave Oakley behind for a few days. And she loved the idea of not having to share him with anyone else.

“Just Rori and Jude.” He said it as he stretched up to kiss her on the lips.

They’d known each other pretty much their entire lives. He’d been her best friend and her roommate in the nearly two years after Zach’s murder, they’d only shared that first kiss the New Year’s Eve before and hadn’t become a real couple until later than that. It’d be good to go on a vacation together.

Things between them were good. It had felt totally natural to be with him. She’d loved him before Zach and then he’d been there after Zach and she’d loved him again.

She was past the point where she questioned her glorious second chance at forever with a man she knew would love her just as long. Her man.

A good, strong man who loved his people. A man who’d die to protect not just her, but the people in town. As a cop, Jude took that commitment even further. She knew when he made a commitment, he’d keep it. It was part of her attraction to him. That steadfast loyalty and strength of character. Even when she worried, though they lived in a small, relatively safe town, that one day she’d have to face his death too. Sometimes, in the dead of night, it paralyzed her, swamped her and blurred the memories of how it had been to hear Zach was dead.

But it meant something to him. He did it because he cared. Serve and protect weren’t just words on his vehicle, he felt them deeply. She admired that, even as it scared her.

On top of that, he looked like walking sin. A face that made her tingly all over just looking at it. A slow, sexy southern drawl. Hands that knew their business. A mouth he used to her great delight. They had chemistry in a big way. Sex that left her weak-kneed and gasping for breath.

Dominant too.

A man who’d never use his strength to harm her, but who used that strength to take her to the darkest, sweetest of places, all while holding her so she wouldn’t drift away. He didn’t hurt her, but he knew how to take her on a ride of pleasure just on the very edges of pain.

She loved it. More than that, she craved it. Found solace and satiation in it. They fit in ways she couldn’t possibly begin to describe with enough wonder and gratitude.

Jude made her whole.

Chapter Three

“Well, I can’t lie and say I’m not disappointed you won’t be here on Christmas morning.” Kelly topped Rori’s coffee off before sitting back down at the dining room table they sat at every Friday morning.

Her sister’s house had become as comfortable as her own, a second home in many ways and a place she knew would always welcome her.

While Rori had told her sister about the change in plans two weeks before, right after Jude had told her about it, it had been clear Kelly wasn’t entirely happy with the situation.

“We need this, Kel.” Rori toyed with the edge of the newspaper her sister had been reading before she’d arrived.

“I know. I know you do. It’s just…well this is the first Christmas since Zach that you’re…” Kelly licked her lips, Rori knew, searching for just exactly the best way to say normal.

So Rori did instead. “Normal.” She shrugged. “Oh don’t look so guilty. It’s true. Losing him made me a little crazy for a while. But during that time Jude was always there for me. Patiently loving me even when I was in pieces.”

“I imagine it has to be hard living with Zach’s ghost. Max said the other day that he’d never seen his brother work harder or be a better man than he is with you. But how can you compete with the memory of a guy like Zach?”

Her stomach tensed for a moment. “He doesn’t need to compete. If he feels that way, I’m doing this all wrong.” Rori sighed. Zach was gone and she’d accepted it. But the time after he’d died had been dark. He’d been her husband. She’d loved him with all her heart and soul. Jude never expected her to act any other way and she was grateful for it. Had known, by the time they finally came together, that it was meant to be that way. He’d proved over and over that he loved her and would care for her, had shown her the depths of his commitment to her and their relationship.

Part of that had been him taking a back seat to Rori’s need to put the ghost of her life with another man to rest. “He deliberately put himself and his own needs on the back burner for me.”

“He may have acted like a dick years ago, but he loves you. No doubt in my mind. And Max is probably right about Zach.” Kelly groaned. “I hate it when I have to not be selfish.” She winked.

Rori laughed. “This time away is about building something that is Rori and Jude. He deserves that and I want it too. It feels like I’ve loved Jude since I was a bitty girl, you know? But that’s different from this thing we have now.”

“Well, you have grown-up love. Complete with in-laws and all that politics stuff that comes with it. Relationships are different than crushes or even dating. You know that.”

“I know. I do and I totally agree. I see this trip as a big foundational wall in our relationship. We need to build it, to put the work into it. Hell, I need to do it so he knows he’s first and foremost. I don’t want to phone it in.”

Kelly burst out laughing. “Rori, the way the two of you look at each other is so hot it makes me want to shove my husband into a closet and violate him that very moment. You two are connected in a big way. He absolutely adores you. I had my doubts. I can’t lie. But he’s been good to you. Always put you first. He’d do anything to make you smile and how can I not love him for that too?”

Rori blushed, the heat on her cheeks also due in part to how hot it was that he looked at her the way he did.

“I love him. More than I ever thought possible. He makes me happy. Fills me up and makes me feel beautiful. I want to put him first. I want him to be as happy as he makes me. I want him to know without a doubt that what we have isn’t a rebound thing, or me settling.”

Kelly squeezed her hand. “That’s the key to a successful marriage. Well, that and good sex. Though—” she lifted a shoulder, “—combining those things is always a plus.”

“I just never want him to feel second best. But it’s hard to find a way to say it without bringing Zach up and I don’t want to make him think I’m hiding it either. It’s a careful walk right now.”

“Course it is, baby. You both love each other. You care about the other’s feelings. That’s why it’s so hard. And frankly, I think that’s why it works. You both understand you had a second chance at love. It’s rare enough to find it once, the way you and Zach had it. But you and Jude have it too. In your own way. It’s not the same, and I think it’s better that way. Imagine if it was very similar. You’d be wondering, deep down, if it was just that you saw parts of Zach in him and that’s why you were with him. And he’d wonder the same thing.”

Rori took a deep breath and sipped her coffee. It was good to be understood the way she and her sister shared.

“Thanks for listening.”

Kelly narrowed her eyes at her sister. “Anytime. Now, you’ll be back in time for New Year’s Eve though, right?”

Rori snorted, nodding. “Of course.”

“All right, then I love you and I’m always here for you.”

* * *

Across town, Jude was at the diner eating breakfast with a friend of theirs who’d dropped in while in the area for his job. Cole was someone he’d originally worked with on some cross training between local and federal law enforcement. Shortly after the assignment had ended, they’d run into each other at a club. A D/s-themed club in Nashville.

Cole had been very much in the closet about his sexual preferences. He worried about people finding out he liked BDSM and kept his activities to states farther away from where he currently lived.

Jude had, at that time, lied to himself about what he was and what he liked. Maybe the two men had seen that need to pretend in the other and left it alone. But Jude didn’t have to be that anymore and finally, Cole had come to trust Jude enough to share his own details and perhaps come to grips with the things he liked without feeling guilty or wrong for it.

Jude had had a confidante in Zach. Another sexually dominant man he could discuss things with. A good friend, even though they’d both loved the same woman. When Zach had died, Jude lost that. Fortuitously, he’d bumped into Cole some months before and they’d reconnected their friendship.

“You said she took it well. That she sounded excited and happy. Let it be. Stop feeling guilty about it. You all live close to each other. You’ll be back for New Year’s. She’s yours too, man.” Cole mopped up his eggs with a piece of toast.

“I know. I just feel sort of selfish for wanting her all to myself.”

Cole snorted. “Why the hell would you feel that? Your woman is incredible. It’s clear you love her. It’s more than clear she loves you. It’s not selfish to want to be creating memories and traditions that will be the foundation for the rest of your life. She lived in Europe for years anyway, it’s not like she spent every single Christmas here with her family.”

“Go on and be rational.”

“You have something special, Jude. Something I look at and pretend I don’t need, but in reality, everyone yearns for. You should feel selfish over it.”

“And five hours from home means I don’t have to worry about anyone coming over when I’ve got her bound. I can play for hours with her and no one is going to interrupt.” Damn did that appeal to him in a major way.

Cole’s eyes lit. “That too. I imagine living so close to your family and the fact that you two share so much family in common must mean a lot of interruptions.”

Yes. He didn’t regret living in such close quarters with their family. He loved it and it was a value he and Rori shared. He knew their children would have that closeness of kin they did and knew it would serve them all their days.

Family was, in the end, the most important thing a man could do. Not just marriage or partnership with another person, but children, home and hearth. Building a life for not only your generation, but touching those beyond it. Being with Rori, being loved by her, had made him into a family man on a whole new level.

At the same time, when your brother lived a few streets away, it meant a lot of drop-in visits. It meant there were times when he didn’t have the opportunity to go as deep with her as he’d wanted.

He’d have days to lure her, seduce her over and over again at his pace. However loud she wanted to be, whatever and wherever. A flush worked over his chest thinking about it and the new toys he’d picked up in preparation for this trip.

Cole’s left eyebrow rose slowly. “Must be some plans in your head right about now.”

“We need a place where the world falls away.” There was the boat. The boat Rori loved to sail. The boat that had a lovely bedroom chock full of toys. A boat Zach had built and turned into their getaway.

Jude paused. And there was Zach again. Impossibly far away, and yet always so close. “I feel like a total asshole, but I want to move into a place of our own.” He’d blurted it, needing to just say it so fast he couldn’t change his mind.

Again, Cole took his measure. “Can’t say as I blame you. It’d be hard…to live where they lived. To try to make memories where hers and his were first. Will always be first.”

“I can’t expect her to pretend he never existed. I think of him all the time too.”

“I don’t think I’d agree that wanting a house of your own with her is you asking her to pretend he never existed. Have you talked to her about it?”

“When we first got together earlier this year, we decided to stay in the house but move bedrooms. I thought I could deal with it and the economy sucks and all so it would be better to wait.”

“How’s that working out for you?” Cole snorted and sipped his coffee.

Smartass.

“She’s had a lot to deal with in the last nearly two years. Can I ask her to marry me and move out of her own home because I can’t deal with her dead husband’s memories? What kind of dick does that?”

Cole waved lazily, leaning back into the booth’s squeaky upholstery. “You’re not even giving her a chance. You haven’t brought it up. It’s a reasonable thing to want your own home. A reasonable thing to bring up these concerns to the woman you plan to marry. Rori is a smart, together woman and she loves you.”

“I just… He was my friend too. I miss him. Which sounds so fucked up given that I’m with his wife now and I loved her before. But it’s true. He was like a brother to me. They were good together. I admired that. Admired how he was with her. Envied it too, I suppose.” Jude had learned a lot about dominating a woman, about how to bring it into a relationship and keep an eye on the balance of power, from Zach.

He took a bite, chewed as he thought. “But she’s mine now and I’m not going backward.”

“This is going to sound harsh, but take it in the sprit I deliver it. She’s not his wife anymore. He is dead. She is yours. You said it yourself.” Cole looked around as he leaned in. “He’d be the first guy to tell you to own her fully. To thank your ass and little green apples that you’ve got a woman like her giving herself to you.”

Jude smiled. “Yeah.”

Chapter Four

The drive was nice. Long, but not too long. Just the two of them in the truck, Rori humming and commenting on the scenery, feeding him snacks here and there. Each mile they passed between Oakley and Highlands, NC relaxed Jude more and more.

The roads were in good shape, though as they rose in elevation, they hit a few scattered snow flurries. He loved the light in her eyes, the wonder she didn’t hide as they traveled.

“I’m glad it’s cold. This way you’ll be in sweaters the whole time.”

“I brought the tight, thin ones so you can see my nipple rings.” Her murmured response sent a shiver up his spine.

Oh yes, that too.

That she put thought into ways to please him the way she did never ceased to amaze him. Fill him with a dizzying lust even as his love for her grew. She was that to him. Softness with an edge. Refuge and incitement. Everything he never knew he needed but would be lost without now that he had it.

The resort loomed ahead, at the top of the mountain, looking very much like a scene from a postcard. Even better, she leaned forward in her seat, eyes widened, hands clasped at her heart, smile as wide as Texas on her face.

“It’s perfect. Oh, Jude, thank you.” She turned to him as he keyed off the ignition once they’d parked. Because there was simply nothing else he could do, he leaned in and took her mouth, his palm sliding around the back of her neck to hold her to him.

Her sweetness burst through his system. “I love you.” He pressed one last kiss to her brow and headed to get her door and get them checked in.

* * *

Their cabin was indeed isolated, though they all were. The windows faced the valley below. Nothing but sky and trees. The last bit of any stress he’d had fell away as he dropped their bags and turned to take the place in.

Naked beams. He smiled and slid his gaze to her, finding her looking at them too, a flush on her cheeks.

In two steps he was pressing himself to her body, leaning to speak in a hoarse whisper, his mouth against the sensitive shell of her ear. “Does that make you wet?” He circled her, noting her shiver and the hitch of her breath. “I’m going to have you right there. Arms above your head, bound up for my pleasure.”

She swallowed hard and met his gaze. “Yes.”

He hummed, the electricity between them licking his skin, igniting the need never far from the surface.

“Please.”

It was a whisper but every cell in his body stood at attention, ready to serve her, to bring her anything she wanted.

“Baby, I promise I’ve got lots in store for you. First things first. Out of your traveling clothes. You know what I like. I’m going to build a fire to get the room warmed up.”

She tiptoed up to brush her lips along his before she moved away to change.

Rori’s hands trembled just a bit, as she pulled her boots off, followed by her jeans and the hoodie she’d worn to keep warm on the drive up. He liked her breasts free. So that’s how she kept them at home and that’s definitely how she’d be high up in the mountains, far away from intrusions and interruptions.

Anticipation raised gooseflesh as she changed into the thin, pale sweater that hugged her boobs just right. The deep vee exposed the curves of each breast and when she leaned just right, he’d get a glimpse of her nipple and the ring.

Knowing she’d be on display just for him always made her hot. She changed into a loose, thigh length skirt, another thing he liked because it gave him access to her pussy at all times. She left on the panties, his favorite kind. Barely there, sheer with side ties.

She tied her hair up and back and headed into the main room to watch and objectify him while he built the fire.

There he was, on his knees in a pair of faded blue jeans, T-shirt riding up a bit in the back, enough to see a slice of golden-brown skin she knew would be warm and taut, muscled.

His shoulders rippled as he moved the logs and she leaned back against the chair, just taking him in. So masculine. Handsome to the point of nearly being pretty. His wheat-blond hair always just a bit too long. But long enough to drag her fingers through. Thick and soft. Enough to grab to haul him closer when they kissed, or to urge him higher as he kissed the back of her knees.

He moved with a predator’s grace. Strong and sure. Watching him build that fire was the very definition of masculine. She exhaled slowly, letting the desire to take a big bite out of him wash through her system.

He turned and locked his gaze on her. The light from the flames cast him even sexier than usual as shadows played over his features. “Darlin’, when you look at me like that it gets me all tangled up inside.”

She hummed her pleasure as she moved to him, reveling in the way his gaze ate her up as she did. His lids dropped halfway and he got to his knees, facing her.

His hands on her calves were warm, pausing to knead or to leave the ghost of a caress as he moved them upward, under the skirt. He tipped his head back to look up into her face. So handsome and sexy her breath hitched and her hips jutted forward.

“Good.” Her breath caught again as he dragged his short, blunt-tipped nails up her thighs. “I’d hate to be alone.”

A smile from him and then he bent his head, pushing the hem of her sweater up with his nose to expose her skin. His mouth, hot and open against the flesh of her belly brought a groan from deep.

She grabbed his shoulders as her knees buckled slightly when he nipped at her navel and laved the sting.

His fingertips brushed over the material of her panties, a breath of a touch.

Her scent hung in the air and he didn’t bother resisting the urge to bend a little and press his face against her pussy. His groan was an echo of hers as he held her to him.

Perfect.

He breathed over her, knowing the air would stimulate her but not enough. And then he stood.

Her pupils were large, dark against the color, lids at half-mast and the way she held her mouth told him she was letting herself fall into her submission.

He kissed her neck and the sound she made ricocheted through him. The hollow below her ear. The corner of her jaw and then that mouth.

“I want you to undress and then get me the toy bag.” He stepped back to get his head together, dragging his fingers over his cock through the denim.

She let the skirt fall to her feet and then peeled her sweater off. Letting him see her in nothing but the panties she knew were his favorite. A few heartbeats later she shimmied from them too and bent, her breasts swaying, the stones in the nipple rings she wore catching the firelight.

She put her things on a nearby chair and then brought him the bag.

In her view, as she stood with her hands at the small of her back, he brought out the new crop he’d picked up on his trip to Dallas. She made a sound then, a soft, yearning plea and he looked up to her, loving the raw desire on her face. Knowing she wanted the things he did, that she got off on this as much as he did. This path was not just his or not only hers, but theirs.

“I can’t wait to see what your ass looks like with the marks this will give you on it.” In fact… He walked to the foot of the bed and sat. Perfect height.

She watched him, her nipples dark and hard, her breath ragged.

“You know what I want you to do.”

She lay over his lap, placing herself just so, right so that her ass pitched up enough to give the perfect vibrations up to her cunt. Her hands lay flat on the floor.

He dragged the tip of the crop over her ass, back and forth. Softly caressing her until she relaxed. The creak of the leather handle and then the sound of the whick of air being split as the crop swung brought a gasp from her lips at the same time he tasted his own.

His cock throbbed as she squirmed in his lap.

The first strike, it was the sound that brought her moan. The burn was dull, barely even a sting. That would come, though, she knew. Anticipated that stew of chemicals he’d wring from her as he played her body like a master.

At the second crack of leather against flesh, the dull burn was replaced by a bloom of heat. A sharp sting that brought her intake of breath.

Her skin was hyper-sensitive to each touch. Each time he brought the crop down against her skin she fell deeper into the velvet of subspace. He shifted, abrading her nipples with denim. She swallowed hard, letting her body take over as he built her climax up.

She knew he’d be looking at her skin, pink with her flush of desire, darker pink where he’d brought the crop down. Hard. Not too hard to really harm, but hard enough to bring a sting and some heat. Stripes on her skin, the contrast with her normal skin tone would incite him.

Knowing that, feeling the steel-hard ridge of his cock against her hip, only made her wetter, hotter, nearly mindless with need.

He shifted again to blow across her inflamed skin.

“So beautiful. Your skin is so pretty and pink. I’m going to fuck you from behind. Just so I can look at your ass while my cock is deep inside your cunt. Just so I can see the new tattoo. Because I like how deep I can get that way.”

She nodded against him. Wordless.

“Up on the bed. I want your hands on the headboard. Don’t let go.“

Her movements were less than perfectly graceful as she got up on the bed. He looked imposing there, his face in hard lines, desire taut. The air was warm. She knew he’d made it that way on purpose. So she’d be comfortable naked.

Right then all she could do was think about how he still had his clothes on. She wanted him inside her like he’d just described. Wanted to feel the bristle of the hair on his thighs against her skin where he’d used the crop.

His smile and the light in his eyes told he her had his own plans and he’d get to it when he was good and ready. Which only made her hotter for him.

Her fingers dug into the headboard as she watched the way he reached down and pulled his shirt up and over his head. Whoo boy.

“Before I fuck you, I’m going to eat your pussy. Take the edge off a little.”

Beyond words, her brain managed a wheeee!

He got on the bed behind her. “I can see how wet you are.” His knuckles brushed against her clit, sending dizzying little waves of pleasure through her body.

“You’re slick and wet, shiny with your juices.” He said this with his lips against that crease where the cheek of her ass met her thigh. “Dark and swollen. Ready for my cock. Spread wider.”

Rori inched her knees wider and nearly screamed when he took a long lick from her asshole to her clit.

Over and over, he took long, wet licks through her cunt, over each fold and into each dip. He knew each and every spot, just how hard or soft she liked it. And he used it to ravish her. To devastate her with the build-up of so much pleasure she wasn’t sure she could withstand it.

She rocked forward and back to meet his mouth until he stilled her with a firm hold, his fingers spread wide over her thighs. Holding her open and just where he wanted.

There was no hiding from it, from the intensity of sensation drowning her. Instead, she embraced it, leapt into it and opened up to an orgasm that felt as if her entire body exploded apart and welded back together in his arms as he lowered her to the bed, careful to keep her on her belly.

“Wow,” she managed to mutter around a tongue that felt like a bag of sand.

He laughed, wrapping himself around her, trailing kisses along her shoulder. When she got the feeling in her legs again, she’d go for that belt buckle.

“I think we should take a walk. The room even came with two walking sticks.”

“I think we should have more sex.”

He nipped her shoulder, making her hiss and then shiver. “We will, greedy. When I’m ready. You’ll need to recover because I plan to fuck you so hard it makes that slapping sound you like so much.”

Ohgod, she loved when he thrust so hard her tits bounced and his skin meeting hers actually made a slap. Loved the raw edge of his control.

She smiled, her face buried in the blankets. The bed rustled as he rolled from it and she turned, enjoying the cool of the comforter against the heat on her ass.

Damn he was easy to look at.

A smile hinted at the corners of his mouth. “What you thinking about, darlin’? Should I be worried?”

Love filled her, blurring her vision for a brief moment. She moved to him and straight into his embrace. His heart beat steady against the ear she pressed to his chest.

“Just about how awesome this trip is. And about how much I love you.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“I suppose I can let you draw me out into the cold. A walk does sound good and maybe the cold will soothe my ass. Will it be all right to leave with a fire going?”

“I don’t plan a big long walk. There’s just a path here.” He pointed to the map of the resort. “Maybe ten minutes? We won’t even be totally out of sight. The wood isn’t popping or anything.”

He brought the rest of the bags in while she got dressed in warm clothing and surprised her by handing her a brightly wrapped package.

“I think this might come in handy.”

“You spoil me.” She grinned as the tore the pretty wrapping away and found a soft cashmere scarf, cap and pair of gloves.

“I was born to spoil you. It’s my job.” He put on his own gloves and a cowboy hat that only made her more reticent to leave the cabin, he looked so delicious.

Chapter Five

The trail near their cabin was quiet but for the crunch of gravel beneath their feet. Snow fell on and off in delicate flurries. Enough to cling to Rori’s hair, spun gold with icy white.

Her cheeks were rosy, eyes bright as she took in the scenery. Her hand fit in his just right. It was just the two of them, far away from all responsibility. It felt damned good.

“We need to do this more often. Get away from Oakley and our friends and family.” That she said it first surprised him. “I think we need it. The time alone.”

They kept walking, occasionally halting for her to take a picture or two. The silence between them was easy.

“I think so too.”

They stopped at an overlook where he dusted the seat of the pretty bench for them to sit and take in the view. The light was fading and they’d need to go back soon.

She eased to sit and his cock stirred back to life as he remembered the sounds she’d made while he used the crop.

“You okay?”

She turned to him, smiling, head tilted. “You mean my ass?” She laughed. “Yes. The sting is gone. You never really hurt me, Jude.” The meat of her thumb slid over the scruff of his beard.

“I never mean to. I know I did once.”

She sighed. “You love me. Take care of me. That you were a giant dick once when we dated isn’t part of what we have now except that I know the sweetness in you I only suspected you had then.” She looked down at their hands, clasped and resting on her thigh. “You waited for me.”

He’d waited for her for years and now she was his. He wondered if there’d be a time when he simply took it for granted and hoped there never was. Hoped he never lost that sense of joy and holy shit I’m a lucky man in his step.

“I don’t deserve you, but I sure as hell don’t plan to give you back.” He kissed her, harder than he’d planned to, to underline that. “I’d have waited a lifetime for you,” he gasped when he broke away.

She looked up, eyes glossy with emotion, her swollen bottom lip trembling just a bit. It came naturally to kiss her again, and so he did.

She scrambled into his lap, facing him, wrapping herself around him. “Every day I wake up and you’re there. Your scent is on my skin. I have a moment when I am nearly overwhelmed by my blessings. You anchor me in a way I can’t really explain. It is unshakable and deep. Strong and it makes me feel not just loved and safe, but cherished. Adored.” She held him tighter. Neither of them speaking for several minutes.

“You look at me and make me feel like a queen. Most people live their entire lives without feeling that way more than a handful of times and I feel it every single day.”

He stood, holding her still. “It’s getting dark. Let’s go back.”

She took his hand as they headed back up the trail. “Thank you,” he said, softly, as they made their way to the cabin.

It was new to him, this sort of connection. Sure, they’d been friends most of their lives, and a brief romantic turn before he’d fucked up and lost her to the man she’d fallen for and married. But before Rori he’d not been totally out with his sexuality.

He took his responsibility…his role as the top in their relationship seriously. And not in an ALL CAPS I’M YOUR MASTER way, but because she chose to submit and he should always be worthy of it. Which meant putting her needs first and being aware of what she was thinking and feeling on a whole new level.

In truth, it made him a better man, though he wasn’t sure anyone but Zach would have understood it if he’d said it aloud.

But he wanted to do right by them both. What they had was special and he’d die before he’d fuck it up. At least on purpose.

“Dinner reservations in less than half an hour.” Not enough time to finish what he’d started earlier. “I did tell you they were bringing it here, didn’t I?”

Her delight was clear in her features.

“You didn’t.”

He shrugged. “Thought you might like it.”

“You spend a lot of time thinking about what I like.”

She dropped to her knees.

“Why don’t you let me think about what you like for a few minutes? We have enough time for me to suck your cock before they arrive. You know, just to take the edge off.”

He sifted her hair through his fingers before tightening his fist around it and tugging her forward, reveling in her gasp of pleasure.

Within moments her clever fingers had worked the belt and his pants open. Her breath against his cock sent shivers up his spine. She wasted no time, taking him into her mouth, hot and slick with just the right amount of suction.

He would have closed his eyes, but that would have meant not being able to watch her with his cock in her mouth, on her knees in front of him. There was simply no contest there.

Her hair slid forward and back as she moved, sucking him deep and pulling nearly completely off, giving him a peek-a-boo view, adding to the allure.

The pleasure banked, building from his toes as she built him up, slowly, surely, knowing exactly what he liked and how he liked it.

Being known so well was something he associated only with her. She got him all the way to the bone.

Content, utterly and totally content, he continued to watch, continued to let himself fall into her until orgasm swallowed him, sucking him under as he held onto her shoulders.

She cut her eyes to his as she pulled back and pressed a kiss to the head of his cock.

“Better?”

He laughed, helping her to her feet and pulling her in for a kiss. “You make just about everything better.”

She sighed happily. “I love this place. No cell reception. My laptop is at home. A girl could get used to having Jude Callahan all to herself this way.”

“You do have me all to yourself.” He snorted a laugh.

She made a cute little harrumph sound, one he knew quite well since she’d been making it when she was displeased pretty much her whole life. In that moment he saw her as the young girl and then the teen she was.

Blinking, she paused, surprise on her face. “What? Are you denying women still follow you around town like lost puppies?”

“Ha! You’re just the she-bitch to smack ’em down. But no, I don’t notice because you’re in my bed. Who the hell wants to be looking at some chick at the grocery store when I’ve got you at home baking me cookies and making my life pleasant and filled with hot sex?”

It was probably totally bad of him to get turned on by the fire in her eyes when any women got too close, but he did. She was fierce in her claim on him. As fierce as he was in return.

“When does dinner arrive?” She peered past him to the clock on a far wall.

“What I plan to do you later will take hours. But dinner will be here in twenty.”

She hummed. “You say the best things.”

He knew she’d think about it all through dinner now. Good. He found himself enjoying that part of their relationship—the slow build up to fiery, intense sex.

Still, there were things he’d been thinking about and maybe with the glow of good sex and a nice walk, they could talk about stuff easier.

“I think we should buy a new house.”

There. He’d said it.

She paused, taking his hand and looking him over carefully. “I brought some wine. I think this conversation might call for a glass or two. Plus, I like wine.” Her smile reassured him.

“Sit and I’ll get your boots for you.”

He peeled away his coat, already having tossed the gloves and his hat on the pegged bench at the entry. He sat, enjoying the way she moved to take his boots off, setting them to the side of the couch in an orderly fashion before she dug through the grocery bag and pulled out the wine.

“This is nice, you know? The quiet. The pace.” She handed him the wine and the corkscrew. “Be back with glasses in a moment.”

He poured them each a glass, waiting for her to snuggle into his side before he tossed his feet up on the low table and sat back with a satisfied sigh.

Smiling, she rested her head on his shoulder. “This feels good. Now, back to the house issue. Tell me.”

“It’s a great house. That’s not really the issue. I know we decided to move the master suite to my room and to stay in the house because the economy is crap and we didn’t know if it would sell very fast. And I know you’ve lived there for several years so I wanted to really give it a try.”

Filled with love for him, and with hurt on his behalf, she turned and pressed a finger to his lips. He’d done it all for her. How could he not know how much she cherished that? It made every day special. “Stop. You don’t have to make excuses for how you feel. Talk to me. You can tell me anything. I love you, Jude.”

He nodded. “When I lived there after…after Zach died, I was a roommate. A friend who was there to help you pick up the pieces. And that was fine. You needed that and I needed it too. It gave us both time. Like I said, I like the house. But it wasn’t mine. And then in a beautiful turn, we got together and we shared my old room and I hoped it would feel like my house too. And it does, in most ways. But I still feel like I’m renting a room in your house sometimes.”

How could she not have known he felt like that? “I’m so sorry.“

“I don’t want you to be sorry. It’s not about you being sorry or me being mad or anything like that. It’s about us finding a way to move forward and to talk to each other around all this stuff. My goal in life is to not hurt you. I know this stuff hurts.”

“What hurts is that you were hurting and I didn’t know. I want you and me to be able to talk about anything. I’m not made of glass and we both know I’m pretty high capacity.” She took a drink.

“How much you can take when I’m wielding a flogger is not the same as talking about your dead husband. That’s real pain and I can’t help that.”

What a lucky, lucky woman she was.

“Don’t you see? I give myself to you because I trust, without hesitation, that you will take care of me. That you will know my limits and push them farther than I could imagine. I trust you not just with my body and with what we do sexually, but with my heart. My submission is all of me. We need to be able to talk about anything. Even when it’s very emotional or sensitive. I don’t expect you to be uncomfortable or like a guest in your own house.” It would be silly to think they could get through the next few years without talking about Zach or issues involving him. She wanted Jude to realize she was his totally and that she’d moved on.

“I don’t know that I’d characterize the situation in those terms, darlin’. I was absolutely genuine when I said we’d move bedrooms. I wanted to give it a try and waited to see if the house would feel more like mine the longer I lived there.” He paused and she touched his hand, wanting him to know she wanted to hear what he had to say. Knowing deep down it was about Zach and her marriage before.

“It’s hard to find a way to talk about this because I know it upsets you and because well, you and I are still learning how to be a couple.”

“It upsets me so much more that you felt like a stranger in your house and I didn’t know.”

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “Didn’t I just say I didn’t think that was it at all? I don’t feel like a stranger in my house. I feel like it’s still Zach’s house. I’ve lived there longer than he did, I know this, but he left his mark. I can share a house, but my everyday life? I don’t think I can.”

Entirely reasonable. He had every right to be comfortable and happy in his home.

“All right.”

“That’s it? You don’t have anything more to say than all right?”

“Zach died nearly two years ago. I’ve moved on. With you. To you. If you feel uncomfortable in any way that I can help with, especially a request as reasonable as moving to a house that will be ours, I can change that. Easily in fact. I don’t know about you, but the stuff easily fixed is stuff I celebrate.”

“You won’t miss your house?” Your house. Man she was slacking to have missed this one.

She took a deep breath and there was a knock on the door. “Not really, no.”

Another knock.

“We’ll shelve this for now.” Jude stood and kissed her again, just quickly, but enough to reconnect them and reassure her they were okay.

She held him in place with her hand on his arm as she stood. “I want this. I have zero regrets.”

She watched as he interacted with the staff in that friendly, easy way he had with people. Lazy and charming. He moved with confidence, taking on multiple tasks with such effortless efficiency.

After the table had been prepared and their dinner ready to eat, she settled in, buttering his bread while he brought the wine over.

“Do you know how much I admire you?” she asked, dishing up some asparagus.

Pleasure and surprise brought a smile to his lips. “How so?”

“You’re just good at everything.”

He snorted as he cut into the beautifully cooked steak.

“Don’t snort at me, mister. I got your number. See, you, Jude Callahan, are good at everything. You are spectacular at some of them, extraordinary in most. You can do general man stuff like deal with putting up shelves and the planter boxes you made this year.” She looked up, eyes dancing, a huge grin on her face.

“Darlin, you please me a hell of a lot in general, but thank you. I’m flattered. And lucky.” She just kept smiling. “What is that smile for?” He knew he blushed and so he just pretended he didn’t know that and continued to eat.

“I was just thinking how we’d get to make them at the new house, or maybe look for a house that has them? Maybe a lot with a lot of trees. Yes. I’d like a house surrounded by trees. I’m so excited for this.”

And she truly was. He saw it in her face. And peace washed through him as he could let go of that worry. Gratitude that she felt the same way for him that he felt for her.

“Trees sound very good. I want a yard with a deck. Obviously we’d want to stay close to our families but there’s a lot out there right now.”

“Good. Okay so back to what I was saying. You’re efficient with all sorts of manly deeds. You deal with car stuff and the filters in the heating system and you hang stuff and lug stuff.”

Only Rori would tell this particular story in this particular way.

“But you’re good at other things. You’re good at people. No matter their personality type you can, I don’t know, put people at ease. Unless you don’t want to and then you disturb them.” She sent him a raised brow, most likely referring to their rocky beginnings.

“You’re ridiculously good in bed. Like whoa.” She fanned herself while waggling her brows, making him choke a laugh.

“Physically you just have it going on. You’re all outdoorsy and athletic. You can assemble a tent in, like, no time flat. You don’t even get lost when we go new places. You have just an unfair sense of direction. All in all.” She paused to take another sip of wine and pointed her fork at him for emphasis. “All in all, you’re just peachy keen. You know? It’s got to be damned hard to be good at everything and not be a total jerk about it. I admire that.” She popped her fork into her mouth and sat back with a happy sigh.

“Well, thank you. I don’t know that much of that is true. But I do know we’re magic together. And in bed? When you give to me and I take it? When your hair is wrapped around my fist and you’re making those soft whimpers and my cock is buried in you? That is extraordinary.”

She blinked a few times. “You say the best stuff. Honestly.”

That she felt that way about him mattered. He hadn’t known it would, but once she’d said it all to him, he realized it did.

Once they’d reached the lemon tart and chocolate cake, he leaned back and rolled his shoulders.

“I think we’re learning. You know?” Rori brought him from his thoughts.

“I do, yes. It humbles me to admit this, but it’s not like I knew how to do this before you and I. I knew what I liked. I knew you and I had a spark in a big way. I knew D/s would be part of our relationship. But it’s not like you’re born a perfect top. And it feels douchey to even say that out loud.” He sighed.

“Do you really think so?” She shrugged. “Seems to me you admitting you’re learning and that you’re working to be the best partner to me in every sense is pretty important.”

“I’m not used to uncertainty.”

“No.” She struggled not to smile and he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Even though it’s very cute and all, you like to be in charge. Hello. I mean sort of necessary to like to tie a girl up and flog her and to manage to get her to not only like it, but crave it. You own your sexuality, Jude. In a way…in a way that makes me wet just thinking about it. But you’re not used to not being automatically good at something, or to not necessarily knowing if you’re doing all you can and doing it right. It sucks, I’m sure. Lucky for you, you seem to have a natural aptitude for making my knees turn to rubber.”

“One thing I’m always sure of is when it’s just us. Alone. When I’m topping you, I know every step, not always until I take it, but I’m sure of each step. It’s so easy and natural between us. I just want to do it all right.”

“I’m not sure even you can do this without mistakes. We love each other. We’re two independent and strong willed people. We’re bound to screw up from time to time. So you know, we have to talk about stuff before it festers. I don’t want you not being happy and keeping quiet over it. That just gets me all het up.” She mock-glared his way.

“I want to always do right by you. It’s my job.”

He said it so matter-of-factly and she wondered at his confidence and commitment to her. Loved it.

“Now.” He stood and she went all still inside, waiting. “I’m going to call to have this picked up. Why don’t you head on in and run a bath in that big giant bathtub? Hm? Be warm and wet for me.”

She got up on shaky legs. The look on his face made her all swoony.

Chapter Six

She arched as he dragged his blunt, short nails up her sides. Her eyes were closed, but she didn’t need the pale light of early morning to know his touch. His lips skated down her throat, pausing at the corner of her jaw where her skin was so very sensitive.

All it took was a deep breath and his scent, the warm, sexy Jude-just-woke-up smell rushed into her system. “Mmm. Good morning.”

Beneath her hands his skin was toned, muscles bunched and played as he rolled her on top of his body. When her eyes opened she saw only him. Only Jude’s face with that disreputable scruff of beard and those half-lidded sexy green eyes.

She didn’t want to wait. Needed him right then so she reared up as she guided the head of him to her gate and slid down, taking him as deeply into her pussy as she could in one agonizingly slow stroke down the length of his cock.

The soreness from the session the night before, hell, the afternoon into the evening into the late night, only added to the pleasure.

His rough groan vibrated up her spine as she rode him slowly, taking her time touching him as he looked up at her. The grip of his fingers into the muscles at her hip kept her anchored, a reminder of who held her, of where she belonged and to whom.

With him deep inside her body, his hands on her, looking at her as if she was the finest thing he knew, the certainty of their connection sweetened everything.

“Make yourself come.”

She shivered, her breath catching at the low-pitched, slow command. No less an order for the delivery, in fact, the way he told her to do things really did it for her.

Because it felt good and because she knew he liked the view, she slid a hand down her belly and spread herself open, exposing her clit and the ring in the hood, exposing the place where his cock slid in and out of her.

He licked his lips, his gaze locked on her fingers and she felt it like a phantom tweak of her clit.

“Draw it out. I want to see you tease yourself. Feels so good around my cock.”

She knew she pouted, but he was too busy looking at her pussy to see it anyway.

Still, he knew her very well. “Don’t pout, it’ll be even better if you make yourself wait.”

Unable to stop the laugh, she let it erupt. “Cripes, you know, some ladies are a mystery to their lovers.”

His gaze, glossy and filled with want, found its way to hers. “And some ladies have mates instead of lovers. Mates who know them inside and out and love them all the more for it.”

Her lips remained in a smile. “So fucking smooth.”

He thrust up a little harder, swiveling his hips. “I know what my lady likes.”

This was it. The thing most people dreamed of, or hell, didn’t begin to believe was even real. Laughing, loving, connected relationships seemed like a storyline in one of her books and she had it not just once, but here, again and forever, with Jude.

She tried to tease herself awhile longer, but they both knew she’d weaken and push herself over so when she did, he groaned and began to thrust up over and over as she writhed, full with him, her inner muscles squeezing around his cock.

He snarled a curse and dug his fingers into her hips as he came. Rori fell forward, both of them getting breath back as they lay there quietly.

“Can I open my presents today?”

He snorted a laugh. “Tonight at midnight. That’s the rule.”

“Gah, even when I let you get to third base, you won’t let me open any presents? You’re mean.”

“I am. It’s my cross to bear.” He sat upright, bringing her with him. “And I think I got past third base a long time ago. What shall we do today?”

“Have more sex?”

“That’s a given. But I’ll let you rest a little before we get back to it again.” His grin was quick and sure. “The downtown area looks nice. Want to hit a few galleries and have lunch?”

“Yes. And when we get back, I’ll make margaritas because I totally brought the blender. And we can play some cards.”

He set her on her feet. “You’re vicious at cards. It’s really sexy.”

“I’m a little, um, sticky. A shower and then some breakfast would be good. Then shopping. Yes, shopping sounds mighty fine.” She scampered off in the direction of the bathroom, knowing he’d be along shortly.

Jude stretched and called ahead to the concierge to get some ideas on where to lunch. It was Christmas Eve after all and he figured better safe to get reservations than to be hungry and frustrated by either a long wait or going place to place.

Once that was handled, he grabbed a shower, heroically not jumping on her again, and they drove into town where the concierge had told them a bakery would have freshly baked offerings, good coffee and she’d been right.

“Despite that skanky ho-bag who would have hit me over the head with her coffee pot if you’d given her any indication you were interested, I gotta say, this is the best bearclaw I’ve ever had. Good call on skipping the restaurant at the inn to go here instead.”

She looked like a fucking angel there on the sidewalk, snow falling around her, her hair peeking from beneath the hat, eyes wide with excitement.

“I got your back, darlin’. Don’t worry, if any skanky ho-bags come at you with coffee pots I’ll trip ’em before they get close.”

“Ha. I can take out the ho-bags all on my own. I’m an Olympic gold medalist at it by now.” She muttered a little more and he kissed her temple, smiling. Truth was he rarely noticed it when women hit on him these days.

“You know I don’t give a crap about any of that, right?”

She looked up at him with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You can still walk, can’t you? If I thought you cared, this would be a whole different conversation. It’s hard to get used to, but I think I finally am. And they’re not as bad as they used to be back home.”

Yeah, he thought it had gotten easier in town. Oh, he knew many people thought he was a rebound, or that he’d step out on her, but the longer they’d been together, the more they’d been a unit everywhere they went, the doubters had begun to realize they’d been wrong.

It stung, he admitted, that people had judged him as such a player. Mainly because he’d given them all a reason to believe he might fuck things up. She’d changed him, shaken him hard enough that losing her had taught him the best lesson he’d ever had.

Years later now, he knew without a single doubt in his mind that she was his and they had a forever type thing. The thought of it had scared him so much that it had taken losing it entirely for him to see Rori for the incredible woman she was, for understanding she was a person who made him whole.

And beyond his wildest hopes, she’d come to him again and given him a second chance. Man could live a long, happy life with that kind of luck.

“You’re up to something. I do like that about you.” She took his hand again now that she’d finished the bearclaw.

He flashed her a grin. “I’m always up to something when it comes to you. That’s how I roll.”

She laughed as they set out down the picturesque street, pausing to look in windows or to stop and look at this or that. Once she was inside a Christmas-themed shop and oohing and aaahing over stuff, he told her he’d left his gloves a few stores back and would run to get them. She asked him to grab her a hot cider on the way back, which worked out, giving him some extra time to run an errand he didn’t want her to know about.

Once she paused to watch the retreat of his denim-covered ass, she headed three doors down.

* * *

“I propose—” he strolled into the room with the cards as she worked the blender, “—that we get ourselves into a game of strip gin.”

Turning to look at him better, she rested her hip against the counter. Her muscles were loose and relaxed, a product of the couples massage he’d surprised her with upon their return. Who’d have thought heated stones between your toes could make a girl feel so good?

“I’m on board with that.” Especially as he was far better at gin than she was so she’d be naked faster, necessitating more hot sex. Which, of course, was why he proposed it.

He sat, shuffling the deck as she brought him his drink and settled in across from him. “I’m quite sure you are planning to cheat to get me naked.”

Again that grin, the one that dropped panties for miles around but only belonged to her these days. Never failed to send a flash of desire straight to all her pink places.

“Now, to be fair, Roberta, I do believe I’ve had you naked a time or two.” He dealt the cards while she sipped her drink.

She sighed happily, choosing to ignore his use of her given name to tease. “Yes, yes you have. You’re very good at that. One of those naturals. Though, I have to tell you I had such filthy fantasies about you when I was a teenager.”

His gaze slid from his cards to her face. “You made a reference to that some years ago but never got specific. You should.”

First setting her drink aside, Rori leaned forward, licking her lips, drawing out the tease, and whispered in his ear. “I used to think about the times you’d come over to our house and I’d sneak out and we’d talk for hours. I always felt like I got to see the secret side of you, made me feel special.”

She knew he’d be smiling.

“So one night, as we were sitting on your tailgate and looking up at the stars, you’d lean into me and kiss me. All sudden-like. You’d even use your tongue like I saw you do with Natalie Prater at the Dairy Queen.”

He laughed, squeezing her waist. “And what else did I do to you then?”

“Oh I don’t know. You told me you loved me and that I was the prettiest girl you’d ever seen and we got married. I was fifteen. I probably let you feel me up though.”

She found herself on her back on the couch with him looming over her. “Oh yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

He bent to kiss the lips she’d just licked nervously. “I don’t know if you’d have been ready for me back then.” He kissed her again, sucking the sense right out of her head. “I sure wouldn’t have been ready for you. So very fierce and serious.”

He sat and turned the force of his attention back to her again. “So, Rori, what say we make this game interesting? How about the loser of each round has to take off a piece of clothing?”

She swallowed, hard, when she realized he’d put on that seventeen-year-old self.

“Only if you want to.” The corner of his mouth rose, just a bit. “We can stop if you think we go too far.”

She twirled a curl around her finger. “All right. But you can’t tell anyone.”

“Sugar, do you think I’d do that? What we do together is meant for us.”

Damn he was good. Cripes, no wonder half the town drooled after him.

They played and predictably, she lost and teased him, taking an earring off. He shook his head.

“Never pegged you for a cheater.”

She took off a sock instead.

“That’s better. I like that color.” He pulled her foot into his lap and began to massage it. Holy cow he was good with his hands.

On it went. She managed to beat him back a few times until he had no socks and no shirt. But that only made him hotter, sitting there in low-slung jeans and bare feet, the fiend.

“Ah, there we go.” He watched, gaze sliding down her legs where she’d taken her jeans off.

She blushed, feeling quite distinctly a lot like that girl she’d been. That a man with a face and a body like Jude would turn eyes filled with desire and attraction on her gave her butterflies.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, having taken it off before the massage and not bothering to put it back on after. One more loss and she’d be down to her panties. Hot damn.

“Well and lookit that.” He tallied up the round and underlined his score. “Looks like I win in more ways than one.” He put his cards down, slowly, with that deliberateness he had and then made his way to her. “I want to see you,” he said, his lips against hers.

The kiss was a slow, gentle exploration of her mouth. Teasing her lips open, and then sliding inside, his tongue sinuous against hers.

His body never fully made contact with her at any point but their lips. But she felt him anyway, the heat and force of him. All that energy and chemistry he exuded brushed against her.

And then he drew away, staying close enough she could see the swell of his lips and know hers looked the same. “Show yourself to me.”

Swallowing hard, she brought her shaky hands to the hem of her sweater and pulled it up and off. The air against her bare skin felt good, but the look on his face was better. Reverence, admiration, desire. And possession.

He traced a fingertip from her belly button ring up the valley between her breasts, up over and then across the blade of her collarbone, a ghost of a touch rimming the hollow of her throat and then, he collared her.

The breath whooshed from her as the intensity of her response spread like wildfire. Startling her with just how much, just how good it felt to have his hand around her throat. Not squeezing. Not harming. Just holding in a hand big enough and strong enough to do damage should he want to.

And her total trust he never would.

What had been seeded deep within her the longer she loved Jude, what had been digging roots and quietly becoming stronger, flowered. He possessed her. Yes, he loved her, yes he dominated her in bed, topped her, but this, this was something else.

Everything inside went still. All she saw, felt, smelled was him. This is what it felt like to be owned by someone, heart and soul. Not owned like a slave, or a thing, but to belong to someone as they belonged to you.

Her pupils swallowed the color in her eyes as her breath caught and then exhaled hard and shaky. It fascinated him to watch her face as she fell into her submission so deeply.

But this was different. More. Something inside him clicked into place and when he took her mouth again, it was far beyond the teasing fantasy play they’d been engaging in.

“I think I need to make those beams up there do their thing. Bring me the bag.” He stood, helping her to stand.

Glad he’d decided to invest in the better suspension cuffs to hold her wrists and arms more comfortably for her, he rigged the line up and over the beam and tested his weight on it.

When he turned his gaze to her again, she watched him carefully. Her nipples stood out, hard and dark.

“Come here and bring those black cuffs there.” He indicated the cuffs he’d laid on the nearby bed, knowing she’d have peeked at them over and over as he worked.

She did, holding her hands out once she’d given him the cuffs. Gooseflesh rose on her skin as he put the cuffs on her, tightening them, monitoring her reactions as he did.

She was on board, he could tell not only by the way she thrust herself closer, but by the hitch in her breathing, by the way she licked her lips and eagerly followed his instructions.

And when he pulled the line, tautening it, bringing her arms up, slowly, over her head, they both sighed.

He tied off the line on the arm of the nearby chair. An easily broken slipknot as he never wanted to be unable to pull her free as quickly as possible.

The position was one of his favorites, her back arched, breasts thrust forward. He circled her slowly, leaning in to brush a kiss on her shoulder, or a caress at her hip.

He held up the longer flogger and the crop. “Which one, darlin’?” He flicked the crop, loving the sound, the weight in his hand. The flogger creaked, the leather of the handle fitting his palm like he was meant to wield it. He twirled it, sending the tails swishing. A deceptively soft sound.

He drew the tails over the small of her back, against the top of her ass and down, against the backs of her thighs.

Yes.

“I think so too.” He bent to put the crop away.

When she was like this, there was nothing else. Arms above her head, the cuffs lovingly wrapped snugly around each wrist, she was utterly at his mercy. Totally on display. She loved it. Craved it.

Her skin was alive as she waited for the first lick of the tails. He knew she waited and drew it out. Circling her over and over, he drew the flogger over her nipples, over her belly and thighs, over her back and ass and just as she’d been lulled into a dreamy, sort of sleepy state, the first strike.

The tails, leather and suede on the outside and rubber on the inside, kissed just this shy of pain against the place where thigh met ass.

The only reason she was able to keep her eyes open was how much she loved to watch the expression he wore as he flogged or used the crop on her. Arrogant, intense with concentration. Every few strokes he’d look into her face to be sure she was all right. She loved that too.

She pulled against the cuffs. Not to get free, she could if she just said the word. But the struggle, the faux struggle, stretched her muscles in her back, arched her closer to him.

The heat of the strokes of the flogger tails built over her ass and thighs, against her mound—and what an unexpectedly hot discovery that had been—and then he played them with perfect strength against her nipples, making them throb in all the best ways.

Hands, sure and strong, undid the cuffs and took her weight, tossing her up and over his shoulder as he carried her into the alcove where the bed was. Which was good as there was no way she could have walked just then.

Gentle kisses laid a trail over her chest and shoulders. Hands that had her hair held in a fist now caressed and soothed. This was the other half, the part that made the first so incredibly intense. This was who they were, strong and dark sometimes. Edgy and yet, there was genuine love, friendship, a concern for the happiness and well-being of the mate. It made her safe and content as well as thrilled and titillated. The balance was different than it had been with Zach. But no less strong, no less tangible and sweet.

One day perhaps she’d tell him so, but not now. This was about the two of them and the path they forged with each touch. Her fearless, protective, bossy male stepping more fully into his role as her man.

“I love you,” she managed to say, used to and still surprised each time by the slow honey of her voice when he’d tipped her into subspace.

“Ah, beauty, what you do to me.” He kissed her chin.

Drawn to him, she found the energy to slide her palms up his sides. “More. Please.”

He knelt to get his jeans down and off. No drawers. She managed a snort of laughter which quickly died away when she gasped at the sight of his cock. Hard, so hard it tapped his belly.

All because of her. All for her.

When her gaze managed to tear from his wedding tackle, she caught that look on his face. That knowing he had of what made her the most weak-kneed and hot.

“I’m going to fuck the hell out of you.”

If he hadn’t rendered her absolutely senseless with that statement, she’d have told him how very on board she was with that. She may have managed a nod though, because that grin ghosted over his mouth as he settled in between her thighs.

She writhed, trying to get closer as he fisted his cock and pumped a few times.

“Ah, ah, ah, hands to yourself. I’m just looking my fill at you. Wet. God, your pussy is dark and swollen. And your tits.” He sighed happily, all the while continuing to withhold himself, knowing how much she wanted that cock inside her.

“Your nipples are hard and swollen, it only makes the rings look hotter. Your skin…” with his free hand, he trailed a fingertip over the marks the flogger had left behind, up her belly and over each nipple, “…is such a pretty, pale pink where the flogger kissed it.”

His gaze, which had been following his hand up her body, returned to her face with a snap of attention. She’d been nearly panting, but the breath snagged in her throat at how he looked at her.

“Knees up.”

She closed her eyes a second as she quickly complied, spreading herself open wide. But instead of following to fuck her, he got to his belly and pressed his face to her pussy, bringing a gasp tearing from her gut and her hips up and into his mouth.

Orgasm hit her hard and fast, but he didn’t stop. He pushed her up and over a second time and even as she still sought to catch her breath, he moved and began to push inside.

Easily enough it turned out as he’d made her so slick. In one hard thrust he was in her so deep, pressed flesh to flesh, it made her mindless, sending her over into a series of slow, rolling climaxes as he began to fuck her.

He took his time, rolling his hips to get as deep as he could, the base of his cock pressing against her clit with each stroke. His abs actually rippled as he moved, driving her crazy.

“Your body is so sexy.” She managed to get the words out, glad when she saw his slight blush and then that cocky smile of his.

He drew closer, she could feel it in the way his muscles began to tense up, the way his smooth thrusts began to stutter here and there and when he came, he pressed his forehead to hers and whispered that he loved her.

More than that, he owned her, body and soul. Confidently and with care all at once. They clicked into a new level of connection, bigger than she’d ever imagined. It was good and right. Solid and unbreakable.

Chapter Seven

“I’ll begrudgingly admit that this is really nice. Not as good as you eating pie off my pussy or anything. But as far as Christmas Eve dinners, this one is amazing.” She motioned toward the table between them, filled with all their favorites.

“I’ll keep the pie thing in mind. Still plenty of time left in pumpkin pie season.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. She felt good. Light and filled with joy. The reason for it sat across from her looking delicious enough to take a bite out of. The Inn’s restaurant was beautifully decorated, pleasing the eye, making her feel very much in the holiday spirit.

“I propose this becomes our first Christmas tradition.”

He cocked his head. “Yeah? You don’t miss being with Kelly tonight?”

“I love my family and all. And I love living near them all so we can share great memories with them. But we get to make our own memories too. I like this one. I like having you all to myself and I know I can get you to bend on the midnight thing with my feminine wiles. If we were with Max and Kelly now, you’d have all sorts of backup to make me wait.”

He laughed, taking her hand and kissing her fingertips. “I like having you all to myself sometimes. And I agree it would be a good thing to make this our holiday tradition.”

“We can change it up after we have kids.”

He licked his lips, looking her over carefully. It wasn’t that they hadn’t talked about kids and the future, they had. But he’d been treading carefully, waiting for her to be in the same place he’d been.

She knew it and she appreciated it. But it was time they moved that next step forward and she also understood it was up to her to give him that sign she was ready.

Rori would always have fond memories of her marriage and relationship with Zach. She’d miss him until she died. But he was her past and this man across from her was not only her past, but her future.

He put a wrapped box on the table. Small and square, pale blue and wrapped with a white ribbon.

“I guess you’re right about those feminine wiles getting your present before midnight.”

With shaking hands, she opened the box and found a beautiful engagement ring inside. And then she found a beautiful man on bended knee next to her. The crowded little restaurant hushed as people began to take notice of them in their little corner.

“Rori, I’ve loved you a long time and I’m promising to love you forever. Will you marry me?”

Blinking back tears, she nodded and held her hand out for him to slide the ring on her finger.

“It’s my job to make you happy for the rest of our lives.” He grinned and she couldn’t help it, she launched herself at him, tumbling them both as he sat on his ass right in the restaurant, even as those around them clapped.

“Let’s get out of here.”

He kissed her as they stood and then she waited while he paid the bill. The low light of the restaurant caught beautifully against the diamond on her finger.

They practically ran back to the cabin, laughing and planning.

She stopped once he’d locked the door behind them. “Oh my God, Jude Callahan, you are too good to be true.”

A fully decorated little tree now graced the middle of the room and it even had their presents beneath it.

“I can’t take credit for this. The inn handled it along with that little shop you were in earlier today. I arranged it a few weeks back and seeing the look on your face is worth it.”

“Wait here.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth and then scrambled to where she’d cached the item she’d picked up that afternoon in town.

Jude watched her scamper around the corner and looked the room over. They’d done a great job and he reminded himself to tip them again when they checked out.

She’d said yes. Without a trace of hesitation. Damn he was a satisfied man. Blessed as all get out to have a woman like her love him the way she did.

And she was back, her grin in place still, holding a box his way.

“You see, I had the same idea. It must be fate.”

He opened it and found a ring inside. White and yellow gold hewn together. The feeling of rightness only solidified to his toes. She’d wanted it as much as he had?

“I saw the ring today and thank goodness they had your size. I’d been wanting to ask you for a while. I’d planned to ask you tomorrow anyway, but then I saw the ring and took it as a sign.”

He hugged her tight, breathing her in.

“Shit, all I did was sneak off to get you that cashmere sweater you were drooling over. You got me a ring?”

Her eyes widened as did her smile. “You did? Where? We should open presents now. Since we’re getting married and it’s nearly midnight anyway.”

“It’s nine-thirty. Hardly what I’d call nearly midnight.” He held up his hands to still her argument. “But who am I to deny your wishes? You know I’m helpless against it when you want something.”

“This is going to be an amazing year, you know that?” She settled in at his feet, as he sat near the little tree and handed her the first box.

“Yeah, I do. All because of you. And by the way, yes, I’ll marry you.”

She tore the paper off with vicious glee and cried out when she drew the beautiful red sweater from the box. He’d seen her face when they had been in the shop and the sweater caught her eye. And he’d known she had to have it.

“You spoil me. Oh and you looked so good and taunted me with presents so I forgot to chide you for the comment about how you hadn’t done anything while I got the ring. Hello?” She waved a hand around the room and then showed him her ring again.

“Santa has nothing on you. You planned all this. Every bit and it’s amazing. Such a wonderful present, this getaway. You and me, all the kink we can handle and not a single interruption. The ring? The sweater? The way you planned all the meals and stuff? You take care of me, you make me happy.”

“It’s my job.” He tried to sound tough and nonchalant but it was a lie because no one got to him like she did. He was helpless against it and more than that, he loved it that way. Loved the way she fit inside his heart like she was made to be there.

“New house, wedding and maybe even some work on that baby thing.”

“You mean it?”

“I want to be your wife. I want to have your beautiful blond, green eyed babies. I want to live every day of forever with you at my side. I love you.”

He got to his knees and she jumped back with a laugh. “I know that look, Jude. Presents! Wait until after—” She didn’t get the rest of the sentence out because his mouth was on hers and her arms busily wrapped around his shoulders.

They didn’t get to the rest of the presents until the next day.

About the Author

The story goes like this: while on pregnancy bed rest, Lauren Dane had plenty of downtime, so her husband took her comments about “giving that writing thing a serious go” and brought home a secondhand laptop. She wrote her first book on that laptop before it gave up the ghost. Even better, she sold that book and never looked back.

Lauren had no idea how fabulously wonderful it would feel to actually make a go of her writing, and she’s thankful every day people actually want to read what she writes! She’s well aware of her good fortune and loves every moment of it, even when she has to edit and put Barbie’s dresses back on over and over again. She still hasn’t managed to figure out how to shut out the sound of the iCarly so she can write a love scene, though.

Visit Lauren on the web at www.laurendane.com or www.laurendane.com/blog. Email her at laurendane@laurendane.com. You can also write to her at P.O. Box 45175, Seattle, WA 9814.

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ISBN: 978-1-4268-9082-6
Copyright © 2010 Harlequin Books S.A.

The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

Holiday Sparks
ISBN: 978-1-4268-9085-7
Copyright © 2010 by Shannon Stacey

All She Wants For Christmas
ISBN: 978-1-4268-9087-1
Copyright © 2010 by Jaci Burton

Unwrapped
ISBN: 978-1-4268-9086-4
Copyright © 2010 by Megan Hart

Believe
ISBN: 978-1-4268-9088-8
Copyright © 2010 by Lauren Dane

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