Faith let out a breath. ‘Jelly Babies make everything better.’ She hadn’t realised just how worried she’d been for a child she didn’t know. Worried, as well, for Blake. He cared keenly, she could see that. ‘That’s really good news. He’ll be home before you know it.’ She desperately wanted to ask about why he’d been so insistent on bringing the children here. What was wrong with their home? But she didn’t want to pry. ‘Daisy okay?’
‘She is now she’s spoken to her brother and Brad. He told her to go straight to bed and she climbed in willingly and said to say goodnight to you. She was exhausted but would never admit it. Thank you. For everything. The snowball fight was very good therapy.’ He paused. Smiled. ‘For me too.’
‘I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much. So it was good therapy for all of us.’
After handing her a glass of white wine he sank into a soft grey sofa across from her and breathed out heavily. However he was framing things, he was still mired in concern for his family, she could see. ‘Hope you like sauvignon blanc?’
She took a sip. Delicious. Expensive. ‘I thought you were into gin?’
‘That’s Brad’s game really. I like it, but give me a decent wine any day. Or, actually, just a pint of beer goes down very well.’
Said the man opening a gin bar. There was more to this story than an interest in liquor. It wasn’t her business to pry, but hell, she really wanted to. ‘How’s he holding up?
‘He’s fine now he’s got Freddie back. As fine as Brad ever is.’
‘What does that mean?’ And why did she care? There was so much about this man she wanted know about. She’d pottered along in her life perfectly well before today, not knowing anything about him, not caring that he existed. Now she’d met his family, been in his house, learnt things about him that had struck a real chord, and it seemed as if she suddenly couldn’t get enough of him. She was feeling a little out of control, as if the axis of her world had shifted slightly and she was looking at things from a different perspective. As if he’d changed her perspective somehow. But that couldn’t be right. She barely knew him.
He shrugged and waved his hand. Forget it. ‘Nothing. He’s just got a lot on his plate.’
‘I was a bit taken aback when I saw you were twins. I thought I was having double vision.’
‘Yes, we often have that effect on people.’
‘Who’s the older one?
He sat straighter in the chair. ‘I am. By eight minutes.’
‘You wear that responsibility all the time.’
Those delicious brown eyes widened. ‘That obvious, huh? It wasn’t always like that, it’s just evolved over the years. After Mum and Dad died I dealt with it all by focusing on being the best I could be, in their memory. But Brad fell apart. He’s been on a bit of a downward trajectory for years. He tries to make good, but won’t take advice and ends up losing money.’
‘You have to let him make his own mistakes.’
‘I did, until the kids came along. I can’t watch them suffer because he can’t tell a good business investment from a bad one.’
‘I get that. Kids, eh? They change the whole dynamic.’ As well she knew. And not always in a good way, apparently. ‘You just want to give them the best.’
‘Especially at Christmas, when things are tough for them with the chaos of the divorce. Oh, sorry. I said the C word.’ He looked around the room and his mouth twitched. ‘It must be hell for you in here.’
‘Too bad I’m allergic. Please don’t tell Daisy.’
‘I wouldn’t dare. It’d break her heart.’ He put his hand to his chest and smiled.
The hot tang of lust fired through her. She ignored it. It was getting harder to ignore. ‘Please don’t say a word. I don’t want to upset her, not now we’ve managed to cheer her up.’
‘Never.’ Cradling the wine glass between his fingers, he leaned forward and laughed. He looked directly at her, catching her gaze in his. ‘It can be our little secret.’
The space in her chest expanded as heat swirled through her. She looked away, anywhere but at him and those searching eyes that seemed to see more than she wanted him to. If he looked too hard he’d find all her faults, all the reasons not to spend time with her.
‘I don’t want secrets. Secrets are dangerous.’ Like you.
‘Honest and upfront as always.’ And now she wished she hadn’t been so quick to reply. But it didn’t seem to deter him. His voice softened. ‘What happened?’
This time she wasn’t going let her verbal diarrhoea get the better of her. ‘I was just being flippant.’
‘There’s nothing flippant about your reaction, Faith. I could see your hands tighten around the glass. The same wide-eyed panic you had when you walked in here.’ He shook his head, again with the searching eyes making her feel simultaneously like she wanted to slide on to his lap and tell him everything, and also blown wide open and wanting to run. ‘Why do you hate Christmas so much?’
Looking at the heart-warmingly lopsided tree, she forced a smile while her heart thrummed against her ribcage. ‘It is a little…full on.’
‘You try telling a seven-year-old that less is more. They won’t believe you.’
She was grateful he’d taken her hint and moved away from the secrets conversation, but she could tell by the way he was looking at her that he was intrigued. Concerned even.
‘Anyway, you don’t like secrets, you don’t want them. You don’t want Christmas. What do you want, Faith?’
Not to feel this attraction to him.
‘Easy. My weight in diamonds, Pippa Middleton’s bottom and to find the perfect red lipstick. Impossible dreams.’ She tried to joke her way out of this stifling intimacy that was making her words falter in her throat and her heart jittery. Not to mention the tingles at every eye contact or touch. And the desire to talk to him into the night. To hold him close and inhale his smell. To find out about his choice of bed wear. ‘And to get on home. Really, I have to go. I’m going to have to pay Geri so much overtime. Thanks for the hot chocolate.’
‘Any time.’ He looked as if he meant it too.
She grabbed her handbag and made her way into the corridor, discombobulated by the connection growing between them.
Hanging high on the back of the door was a pretty wreath of holly intertwined with some other smaller green leaves and little white berries pinned to the top. ‘I would never have pegged you as a wreath kind of man.’
‘Daisy liked the ribbon, so I bought it.’
Of course he did. Tartan with teddy bears and…glitter. ‘Very Daisy. Apart from the mistletoe bit.’
His eyebrows rose and he smiled. ‘There’s mistletoe? Maybe she was hoping Uncle Blake might get lucky.’
Prickles ran up Faith’s spine as she reached for her coat from one of the hooks on the wall. ‘I think it was probably just the glitter that attracted her. We should do the grotto shopping tomorrow.’
‘Definitely. Thanks for helping out today.’
‘It’s okay. I just happened to be there. Anyone would have done the same.’ They were standing at the door, but he didn’t open it. As she pulled a coat sleeve over her arm he stepped behind her and helped her other arm into it.
‘I’m not sure I would have. Not help out someone I barely knew. A business rival to boot.’
Rival? She’d thought that at the beginning. Misjudged him a little. He was a hard-working man with a lot on his plate. And with good manners too. She shrugged. ‘So, I’m a pushover for a guy in a crisis.’
He sidestepped and zipped the coat up under her chin. All she could feel was his presence filling the tiny space and the touch of his skin on hers sending shockwaves of need through her. She was so aware of him. Of the flash of heat as he looked at her. The way his eyes dipped to her mouth, and another flash of heat as he smiled slow and sexily.
Her heart thrummed and her body tingled as he leaned just a little closer and said, ‘Faith Langley, you’re a regular knight…er, what’s a
female knight? Knight-ess?’
‘Is not even a word.’ She laughed to cover up the nerves in her belly. He was so close she could see the little lines at the side of his eyes. The tiny chip in the top of his glasses that made her heart soften a little. The scruff of bristles on his jaw that she wanted to run her fingers over. With the tiniest of stretches she could have easily reached out and touched that dimple. ‘I’m happy with knight. Knight is cool.’
‘Well, thank you, my knight in a fur-lined hood. I’d walk you home, but—’
‘Daisy.’
‘Is fast asleep. Completely out.’ His fingers went to the hood and pulled it up over her head. Just that brief touch set her heart racing and her body on fire. His voice was hoarse. Deep. Like waves caressing her insides. ‘I like it up like this.’
‘Covering my face? Excellent idea.’ She swallowed hard, dragging her eyes from his, from his mouth. From him. She had to leave. She didn’t want to leave.
She wanted…oh, she couldn’t admit what she wanted. Because she wasn’t a little girl any more, she was an adult and she should control her emotions, her reactions. She certainly tried to. But it all seemed to crumble when she was faced with Blake Delacourte.
The side of his mouth tipped up and the full force of his gaze unsettled her. Heated her more. ‘I like it framing your face. You look Scandinavian. Exotic.’
‘No, I’m just plain old Cockney.’ She forced the words from a dry throat. She wanted his fingers close to her face again. She wanted him to touch her so badly she could barely breathe.
‘There’s nothing plain about you, Faith. Nothing at all.’ He smiled and that dimple winked and tugged at her gut. It wasn’t fair that he was so damned sexy and lived only metres away from her house. And that she was sworn off relationships. ‘Thank you for everything you did. I’ll pay you back somehow.’
‘Oh yes?’ What her body wanted and what he had in mind were probably poles apart. ‘And how do you intend to do that, Mr Delacourte?’
‘This could be a start.’ He gripped her coat collar and tugged her towards him, cupped her face and slid his mouth over hers.
More heat sparked through her, but she hesitated, turning her mouth away. And yet unable to resist curling her cheek into the soft stroke of his thumb. ‘We…shouldn’t.’
His fingers found her chin and he turned her back to look at him. His forehead touched hers and he smiled again. Which was the final straw for her fracturing resolve. ‘As we’re standing under mistletoe I’d say it was mandatory.’
He had a point. It was as if some magic was at work, propelling her to him on an unstoppable trajectory. She couldn’t bear not to touch him, to taste him.
‘In that case…’ She raised her mouth to his.
This was not her. This was a different Faith, one who believed in the magic.
Ohmigod.
Breath stalled in her lungs for a brief second as she registered the feel of him on her lips, then she opened her mouth to him. He tasted of hot chocolate and Ben and Jerry’s Caramel Chew Chew ice cream. Of something else, too…something so utterly male and sensual it made her limbs melt. She pressed against him, her palm on his chest, feeling the rapid fire of his heart, relishing his heat.
Her belly simmered with need as her hands went to his face, to the back of his head. All resistance forgotten. Her world narrowing to him. To his touch. His scent. His kisses.
He walked her back against the wall, locked her there as his tongue stroked against hers. Unable to stop herself, she moved against him, pressed against his hardness, shocked at how much he wanted her and how much she wanted him back.
But there was tenderness in his touch as well as passion. His hands held her face as if she were made of porcelain, as if she were precious. And it made her heart hurt. Because she wasn’t. She wasn’t. But he almost made her believe she could be.
He moaned her name as his hand moved slowly to her waist and he held her tight against him as if he never wanted to let her go. As if she were his. And in that moment she gave herself up to him, to the flame that flickered alive inside her.
This was the kind of kiss she’d waited a lifetime for. A raw melding of need and sensation. Sexy as hell and so sensuous she couldn’t remember ever feeling so turned on, every cell in her body alight with heat and longing. Something deep inside her connected with him on a level she’d never known, never dared go to with anyone else.
And it was the kind of kiss that would ruin her for any other. She didn’t want it to ever stop. She moaned his name and kissed him some more, moving her hands over the solid planes of his back, the hard dips and rises of his biceps, and under his top to the soft, smooth skin covering ridges of abdominal muscles.
He gasped at her touch, arcing his body towards her, his thigh pressing between her legs as heat pooled there too. But the pressure wasn’t enough, she wanted more. She wanted his hands all over her. She wanted to strip his clothes away and feel the touch of his skin against hers.
The sound of laughter floated in from outside. Some of her regulars, no doubt, going home through the snow.
The pub.
Her eyes flickered open and she saw the wreath on the door of his fancy apartment. Cold reality seeped into her bones, edging out the heat and desire. They were worlds apart. He had a messy, complicated family and she had no one. He was rich and successful and she…wasn’t. And maybe, just maybe, he was open to kissing and making out and possibly more, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t going to risk her heart again. Not when the two people she’d ever loved had broken it.
She put her hand on his chest and gently put space between them.
‘No. We can’t do this.’ To emphasise the point, and to convince herself more than anything, she opened the door and stepped into the snowy night. Away from that heat and hunger. Away from the mistletoe.
What the hell had she been thinking? ‘I’m sorry, Blake.’
‘Wait—no.’ He closed his eyes for a second and shook his head. ‘Shit.’
And with that he turned away and closed the door.
Chapter 5
Blake didn’t turn up the next day, or the next.
Which should have given Faith ample time to calm down and find her equilibrium. But she had a bad feeling she’d left it on the squishy grey sofa in his lounge. She’d only want to help the guy out, not kiss him stupid and imagine him naked.
Want him naked.
Her skin tingled at the thought and she couldn’t help but smile.
It had been a damned good kiss. But at what cost? She hoped they could be big enough to move past it and work on the party, live in the same street, breathe the same air, without having a rerun under the mistletoe.
He hadn’t turned up but he’d sent a text: Sorry, can’t do the party stuff today.
Concerned, relieved, disappointed and frustrated, she’d replied: Problems? Freddie okay?
Freddie is fine. Just held up with things. Will be in touch.
Which meant she had to wait.
And that he was putting space between them.
Because of the kiss. The mind-bendingly sexy kiss that had melted her bones to liquid and made her brain mush. She knew it had to be that that was keeping him from coming in. But avoiding him wasn’t going to get the grotto done or the party organised.
And now Jenna was rabbiting on about how amazing they’d been to save Christmas for a group of little kids, she hadn’t the heart to tell her they were a little behind on schedule. And truth was, she hadn’t the guts to go over and face him either. But she would. Tomorrow.
‘He seems very nice, don’t you think, Anjini? I hope the gin bar is successful, it should bring some new business into the area.’ Jenna was sitting near the rear window in Faith’s very un-Christmassy function room. Book club was in full flow and, as usual, they weren’t talking about books.
Anjini nodded. ‘Good-looking boy. I hope he’s as good as his word, because I’m not seeing any tinsel or holly or mistletoe anywhere. For that matte
r, where’s the tree?’
Faith’s nerves jangled. Guilt mainly. Over the kiss and the lack of decorations. And the mistletoe. ‘We’re working on it. Besides, I don’t think mistletoe would be appropriate for a children’s party.’
Anjini peered at her as if she’d said something profane. ‘Mistletoe is always appropriate, Faith. As you well you know.’
What? ‘I don’t know what you mean. We’ve had a meeting and we have a big list to get through.’
‘Did the list include snowball fights?’ Now Anjini had a wry smile on her face.
She knew? Maybe they all knew. Maybe it was all so obvious. Did she have a rash from his stubble? Were her lips still swollen? No. She’d checked that night, the next morning, this morning. There was nothing physical to suggest she’d snogged a man until she’d barely been able to form words.
But they all knew somehow and were looking at her as if was the best news they’d had all year. It wasn’t. She was confused as all hell. Excited, but confused. Unfortunately, as she was the host today she couldn’t run and hide or leave early on some pretext. She was just going to have to face the music and hopefully avoid further questioning. The Spanish Inquisition had nothing on her book club.
‘I was just helping him out. There’s been an accident in his family and I was just—’
‘Consoling him. How nice and…neighbourly.’ Anjini smiled knowingly. There had been no one out on the street last night, and Anjini lived on a side road so couldn’t possibly have seen them kissing. Besides…they’d done it indoors.
But Faith’s nerves were jangling, because she didn’t want to talk about the kiss. She didn’t want to think about the kiss.
Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.
Was it hot in here? Hot and stifling around her throat. She touched her cheek, remembering how special she’d felt that he’d chosen to kiss her. Then swallowed all of that feeling away as best she could.
‘Look, his little nephew fell and had a nasty cut so I was helping him with his niece. She was a bit upset about her brother being in hospital, so we were trying to cheer her up. Then we had planned to go shopping for everything yesterday, but he was too busy.’
Something Beginning With Mistletoe (Something Borrowed Book 3) Page 6