Winter Love

by Kennedy Fox

  If I’ve learned anything, it’s that I didn’t love my ex enough to feel the loss. As Rob said, I’m lucky I found out when I did. Rob. I miss him more, and I only had twenty-four hours with him in France before he had to return to New York. He moved a day for me but couldn’t change our worlds to accommodate a life together. I’m guilty of the same, but it still feels . . . wrong.

  I needed to return, to heal and get over my ex, and begin to live again. And I have. But I’m missing Rob more each day instead of less.

  I return to my desk and pull up the report. As I attach it in an email, she adds, “Also, I love that shade of red lipstick on you. I think you lost some on the mug, though.”

  “Oh?” I send the email and then grab my purse. Checking in the little mirror, I touch it up. “It’s not long-lasting, but I do love it. It’s the same shade my grandmother used to wear.”

  “It’s perfect. Also . . .” She grins like a Cheshire cat. “You’ll thank me for this.”

  I drop everything back in my drawer and stand. “For what exactly?” I ask, passing her in the doorway. When she doesn’t answer, I turn back halfway down the hall.

  Silently mouthing, “That buyer sure is handsome,” she points toward the lobby.

  “What buyer? I don’t have any meetings scheduled for today.”

  “Huh?” She taps her chin. “That’s interesting.” Then she slips back into her office and shuts the door. What was that all about?

  I head down the hall and around the corner. My feet stop before my body gets the message, and I stumble forward not so gracefully. Strong hands catch me, lips that I’ve missed kissing so close, and a smile reassures my restless heartbeat. “Rob, what are you doing here?”

  Cupping my face as if I’m a precious gem, he pleads, “Please tell me you didn’t go back to him.”

  I grip his forearms, the feeling of desperation pulling me closer to him. He’s here. Does that mean . . .? “I could never go back to him, Rob. In all honesty—”

  “Yes, Beth, I want your honesty,” he says quietly. I smile. He’s here . . . for me.

  “In all honesty, I found out what real love was . . . when I met you.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Relief rushes through me, and excitement flares through my veins like the Fourth of July.

  His possessive hold comforts me like home. Our lips are so close, his eyes set on mine. I’m kissed, and all the memories of Paris come flooding back along with the heartbreak of our ending. I push gently, my mouth my own again, and say, “I don’t know if I can do this if we have to go our separate ways again.”

  “I agree.” Wrapped in his arms, the only place I want to be, he replies, “By the way, I forgot to give you your Christmas gift.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I grin, wiping my lipstick off his lips though I’m tempted to leave a little behind, feeling a little possessive myself. “What do you have for me?”

  He kisses me, and then says, “We bought a winery on the West Coast.”

  “In Napa or Sonoma?”

  “No, that’s too far from you. We found one just south of Santa Barbara, and Lemaire California might need a marketing director.”

  “She’s spoken for,” Holli calls from the back, with laughter following right after. “Professionally. Beyond that, she’s all yours.”

  It’s more than humor from Holli that elicits my own laughter, my happiness overflowing. Here is a man who I spent a short amount of time with flying across the world to come see me, to change his life for us to be together. I’ve never been with someone willing to sacrifice so much to be with me. I wrap my arms around his neck, relaxing back. “I just got a raise and a promotion.”

  “I’m not above begging,” he says with a wink. “But why don’t we take it slow?”

  “Oh, no. We tried that once, and it landed us on different coasts wondering what could have been.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  “We make the most of the moment.” I kiss him again because I like kissing him, but then I remember and pluck our lips apart again. “Oh, and don’t worry. Junior’s delivers its cheesecakes here as well.” I wink. “I might have ordered one . . . or two. They really are the best.”

  His hands slide around my waist, and he says, “I don’t need cheesecake. With you, I’ll never be homesick again.”

  We kiss, and never in my wildest dreams could I imagine I’d find true love in Paris. I may have taken a trip for two, but I found myself in those beautiful, snow-covered streets. And I also found my Prince Charming. The man who has proven I’m more than enough. I’m loved. “I think you were right back in Paris.”

  “About?”

  “About us. I think we were always each other’s destiny.”

  Dipping me, he kisses me again, and then whispers against my lips, “Destiny.”

  P.S. If you enjoyed this story, you can spend more time in the Hard to Resist Series world by starting with The Resistance. That is the book that started it all and where you’ll officially meet Holli and Rochelle. FREE in KU.

  About the Author

  Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She's obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she's a pro.

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  Prologue

  When my sister Dorothy decided to take a weekend trip to the small, holiday-themed town of Candied, Vermont, in order to get her freak on with a guy she met online, I begrudgingly went to make sure she stayed safe.

  With the town’s annual holiday festival in full-force, I already knew I’d be thrusted into one of the nine circles of hell this weekend.

  I had every intention of hanging back and just keeping an eye on my sister. But when she forced me on a double date with her and her new man, I hit it off with her date’s older brother.

  Charlie Wyatt, a bigger than life, lumberjack of a man, had all of my synapses firing at once. He was all male, and just being in his presence made me feel wholly feminine.

  Our encounter couldn’t be called anything but primal, and when the night ended with one too many drinks, I found myself in his bed.

  He said I was his.

  He said he had gotten a sweet tooth… and I was the only thing who could sate it.

  He said he wasn’t letting me go.

  And the craziest part of this entire weekend? I wanted Charlie more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life.

  Chapter One

  “This is gonna be great.”

  I looked over at my sister, Dorothy, feeling my eyes narrow. She wasn’t watching me, but her grin spread, and I knew she could tell I wasn’t sharing the same sentiments as her.

  “Yeah, this will be a blast,” I muttered with all the sarcasm I felt and looked out the passenger side window.

  We were entering the small Vermont town of Candied. It was a picturesque little town, something you’d see in a Hallmark movie or on a postcard. And why were we driving five hours, crossing state lines right before a winter storm? All because my sister met a man—on one of those dating apps—and he’d talked her into coming up for Candied’s Annual Maple Festival.

  No way was I about to let my younger sister travel alone to meet some random guy. So here I was, suffering in silence, or as silent as I was.

  “If we get stuck in this town because of the snowstorm, I’m never gonna let you live this shit down, Dorothy.”

  Dorothy sighed, but it was one filled with pleasure. “I hope we get stuck.”

  I snapped my head in her direction and narrowed my eyes. She looked at me for just a second, a smirk covering her lips.

  “Can you just imagine being stuck in a perfect little town li
ke this? Even the name is too freaking cute.”

  “It’s nauseating,” I shot back.

  “It beats the hell out of the city, am I right?”

  I rested my head back on the seat and didn’t respond. She had a point, to an extent, but that didn’t mean I wanted to get stranded in Candied, Vermont, during a snowstorm while my sister most likely shacked up with some maple-tapping lumberjack.

  “Just the thought of this town gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

  She snorted and shook her head. “You not only exaggerate about everything, but you’re also the damn Grinch during the holidays.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. The holidays had never been my thing. I didn’t mind Halloween, but probably because it wasn’t cutesy and filled with love and all that bullshit. Valentine’s Day? Christmas? I internally cringed. My sister and parents liked to give me a hard time, because I was not only antisocial, but I also didn’t really do the whole affection thing.

  But I was fine with that. It’s who I had always been. My mother said I just hadn’t found the right person to break through that icy exterior. I didn’t think anybody would put up with my lack of… all that was affectionate and lovey-dovey.

  But I guess if I did find a man who could put up with my lack of enjoying that sickeningly sweet shit, then he’d be a keeper.

  Or maybe he’d convert me.

  An hour later, we were finally entering Candied, Vermont. I expected a holiday-ish feel from the town, especially this time of year and of course their name; but what I wasn’t prepared for was the fact that it looked like all things Christmas had thrown up right in the center of town.

  The street lights were decorated to resemble candy canes, and snowflakes were strung between them. Every window of every business that was on either side of us was decorated so heavily with the holiday theme I could practically hear Santa ho-ho-hoing his ass along, smell sugar cookies in the oven, and taste the peppermint on my tongue.

  It was enough to make me gag.

  “Oh my God, Dorothy,” I muttered under my breath as I stared out the passenger side window. “What the hell have I let you talk me into?"

  Dorothy was all animated, sitting beside me, nearly bouncing on the seat. I glanced at her and rolled my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time during this trip. She wore a huge grin, and her eyes were wide as she looked around.

  “Oh my God, Penny. This is incredible.”

  I closed my eyes and rested my head back on the seat, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “You owe me bigtime for coming with you.”

  “I owe you the biggest of the biggest,” she said with so much glee in her voice I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “You’re so ridiculous.” I opened my eyes and smiled at her. I did like seeing her happy. I may’ve been a Grinch, but seeing my little sister smiling that big made me feel good.

  Of course she would find this the most incredible experience of her life. But right now, I was in the seventh circle of hell.

  Chapter Two

  My sister pulled into the parking lot of the small bed and breakfast we’d be staying at for the next couple of days, and although it was just a weekend trip, I felt like I’d be here for an eternity.

  There was a light flurry of snow that wrapped around me as soon as I got out of the car, and the bite in the air was enough to have me catching my breath and chills racing up my arms and legs. I could practically smell the storm coming and prayed that we’d at least make it out of this town before it hit full-on.

  After grabbing my overnight bag, I followed Dorothy inside. The interior was decorated as if elves had come down from the North Pole and pissed their festivities all over the place. Maybe I was exaggerating in my description, but it felt pretty accurate to me.

  Probably only to me though.

  As Dorothy checked us in, I looked around the front office. It was quaint, with a classic bed-and-breakfast feel to it. There were pictures on the walls of what I assumed were from the festival from prior years, as well as local businesses when they’d had their grand openings.

  I kept looking at each one, the pictures seeming to be in chronological order. I stopped at the last one, showing the woman behind the front desk standing with two men. She stood in between them, an arm wrapped around each of their waists.

  The three of them stood in front of a storefront with a big Grand Opening ribbon strung in the window. The one on the left wasn’t as muscular and wore a boyish expression on his face. I wondered why he looked so familiar. It was then I realized it was the guy Dorothy was supposed to meet while we were here.

  But the other man—the one who was tall and wide, muscular, and screamed male—had an air of experience surrounding him that I could practically feel even through the picture. He was broad, with wide shoulders and thickly muscled biceps. He stared at the camera with just a hint of a smirk playing across his face.

  My insides clenched painfully as I stared at him. Arousal so strong lit me up from the inside out, and I squeezed my thighs together to try to stem off that insatiable need. It was primal and raw. It was the kind of need a female got when she saw a powerful male and wanted him to claim her.

  God, I’m losing my damn mind.

  “Are you two here for the annual festival?” The lady behind the front desk sounded just as animated as my sister had been, and I tore my gaze from the picture to face her.

  She looked like she belonged as one of Santa’s helpers, or maybe Mrs. Claus herself. Her gray-and-white-streaked hair hung loose around her shoulders, but she’d teased the hell out of it. Her makeup was thick, her eyes having a light-green hue, her cheeks over-blushed, and her lips red like a candy apple.

  Her sweater was red, with tinselly looking threads woven throughout it. Her earrings looked like Christmas balls, shiny, bright, and green. And the scarf she wore had candy canes printed all around it.

  I knew I was going to throw up several times in my mouth being in this town. They took it to the extreme.

  She noticed I’d been focused on the picture, and her smile brightened. “Have you visited the Sugar Shack?” At my blank stare, she gestured to the picture I’d been staring at.

  I glanced over my shoulder, acting like I was seeing what she meant, when I damn well knew. It was just an excuse to look at Mr. Hot and Sexy Lumberjack again.

  Dorothy came up to stand beside me, and I heard her sharp intake of breath when she clearly saw the guy in the picture was who she was hooking up with while here.

  “Oh my God, it’s him, Penny.”

  “You guys haven’t swung by the Sugar Shack yet?” The front desk attendant sounded shocked, like we committed some sin by not stopping.

  I looked over my shoulder when I heard her shuffle toward us. She wore this huge grin as she stared at the picture.

  “Those are the Wyatt brothers. That’s Henry, the youngest.” She pointed to the man my sister was probably going to let bone her this weekend. “And that's Charlie, his older brother. They opened up the Sugar Shack a couple years ago. They specialize in all things maple related. Handmade soaps, syrups, candies, even body lotions.” She shook her head, that grin still in place. “They make everything themselves. They’re famous in town and a bit with visitors.”

  I stared at the other man.

  Charlie.

  My insides clenched once more, and my mouth had gone dry, my pulse picking up. Never in my life had I felt this way, especially not over just the image of a man.

  “This was a couple of years ago,” she said and pointed to the Grand Opening sign in the picture. “Here,” she added before hastily shuffling back toward the front desk.

  She started rustling around a stack of paperwork before pulling out two small squares of what looked like cardstock. When she handed them over, I looked down at what were clearly coupons. One was for half off any one item, and the other was for a free Wyatt Brothers Signature Maple and Brown Sugar Mini Muffin.

  “Thanks,” Dorothy said excitedly as she snatched the c
oupons from my hands and started fanning herself with them.

  “Are you guys this enthusiastic every year?" I couldn’t stop myself from asking, and when Dorothy snapped her head in my direction and glowered at me, I just shrugged.

  I was genuinely curious if this was the norm for them. The front desk lady, who I still had no idea what her name was, beamed as if she were proud of me taking notice of that.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said excitedly. “We plan all year for this festival. Tourism increases every single year.”

  I nodded slowly. Great.

  “We are so excited to be here to experience it,” Dorothy replied with a huge grin. I couldn’t help but chuckle. My sister was loving it, and I couldn’t begrudge her for that.

  Chapter Three

  After we were all checked in and shown to our rooms—plural, because I sure as hell didn’t want to interfere with whatever sex plans Dorothy had this weekend—I set my bag on the bed and took a shower right away. I was still chilled from the short walk from the car to the B&B, and it felt like this place didn’t want to go above sixty-five degrees.

  After I stood in the scolding hot spray of water for longer than I probably should’ve, I dried off, dressed, and used the complementary blow dryer on my golden-brown locks. I slathered on some moisturizer, spread some Chapstick on my lips, and then just looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I didn’t think of bringing my straightener, so my hair had a slight wave to it despite using a brush and blow dryer to try to tame it.

  I sighed and shook my head. “She’s a grown-ass adult,” I said to my reflection. “She can handle herself.”

  I shouldn't have come; I knew that. My little sister wasn’t so little anymore. At twenty-three, which was five years younger than I was, she had a good head on her shoulders, plans for the future, and didn’t make life-changing mistakes.