Wrapped Up In You (A Mystic Island Christmas)

by Stephanie Rowe

  "I know, sweetheart. I know." He dragged her against him, burying himself in the kiss as he moved his hips, driving inside her. He didn't let her go, assaulting all her senses on every level, turning the kiss and the lovemaking into a fierce unleashing of passion.

  She gripped his shoulders, moving her hips, taking him more and more deeply inside her, moving with and against his rhythm, until there was nothing left but the fierce connection between them, spiraling heat twisting tighter and tighter as the orgasm built. He moved his hips again, shifting his angle, and she was lost to him. The orgasm exploded through her, and she gasped, her entire body clenching as it took her. His arms locked around her, holding her up as he followed her over the precipice, his body jerking against her as he was swept up in the heat between them.

  When it was finally over, Willow sagged against him, too exhausted to hold herself up, resting her face in the crook of his neck. She'd never felt so thoroughly loved, or so thoroughly sated in her life. "I don't want to move," she whispered.

  Cole kissed her forehead, a deep laugh rumbling through his chest. "You don't have to, sweetheart. I've got you."

  She sighed and relaxed into him, breathing in the scent of him. I've got you. Three words that no one had ever said to her before...except once, many years ago, beneath a full moon on a beautiful beach, by a boy she'd just met. Words she'd forgotten, until now. Words she never wanted to forget again.

  Chapter 8

  HE WOULD NEVER get tired of her smile.

  Cole grinned at Willow, watching the wonder on her face as she took in the Christmas lights lining the street. There were wreaths hanging from every telephone pole, and twinkling white lights glittered under the snow on every bush. The powder was soft beneath their boots, muffling the sound the way only a fresh snow could do. With the soft snow still thick on the trees and roofs, and the Mystic Island decorations, even he could feel the Christmas magic humming in the air...or maybe it was just the magic that Willow brought with her wherever she went.

  They'd spent the rest of the night and most of the day in bed. He'd learned every inch of her body, what she liked, what she loved, and how she loved it. She was vibrant in bed, igniting a fire in him that had been dead for a long time. He loved her playfulness, and her spark, and each time, his smile felt more natural and less foreign. She'd given him her body, and a reason to care, and now he was going to give her the Christmas she'd been searching for.

  Cole tugged Willow's hand, coaxing his reluctant date along the stone pathway that led to the island's community center. "Come on, slowpoke. You won't want to miss this."

  "I think maybe I do. Can't we just walk down to the dock? It's so beautiful tonight. Who needs people?" She looked adorable in one of his old stocking caps they'd found when they raided his closet, looking for clothes that would keep her warm. It was blue and white, the colors of the Mystic Island high school, and it made her look like she was his high school girlfriend, not the woman he'd spent the last eighteen hours in bed with. Her cheeks were flushed red from the cold, and her nose was pink. "We could get takeout and go back home," she suggested hopefully, her gaze flicking nervously to the people streaming past them into the charming brick building.

  "Never. This is Christmas Eve on Mystic Island, babe. It involves people, not just snow. You can't stay home and miss it." He threw his arm around her shoulders, tugging her close as he steered her toward the double doors that were propped open. It had been years since he'd been to the Christmas Eve pageant and dance at the community center, and he was surprised that he was excited to see it. "I was in this when I was a kid. I used to be a great singer. I got the whole town rocking. You should see me do my Elvis impersonation."

  "You were a good Elvis?" She cocked her eyebrows at him as they walked up the stairs. "Really?"

  "I'd never lie about that." He hesitated for a split second when he saw familiar faces begin to turn toward him, and fingers pointing his way. Shit. Was he really going to do this again? He'd been so intent on bringing Christmas to Willow that he hadn't thought about facing his old 'hood, the people he'd left so long ago. He looked down at Willow, and saw her peering past the crowd into the chapel, her eyes widening at the sight of all the Christmas decorations, and his doubt faded. For her, he could do this.

  "Cole?" A hand came down on his shoulder, and he turned. He recognized the weathered face in an instant. It was one of his best friends from high school, Luc Pelletier. His hair was darker, his shoulders wider, and his eyes more weighty, but it was him. "You really back?"

  "Hey, man." Cole couldn't help but grin, and he thudded Luc on the back when his friend pulled him in for a hug. Damn, it was good to see him. "You look great. What's going on? Did you and Janice ever get married?"

  His friend's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Yeah, and she took off when our boy was a year old. Never heard from her since. I've been doing the single dad thing for almost eight years. You didn't know?"

  Cole grimaced. "Sorry, man. I had no idea." He noticed then the weariness in Luc's gaze, the kind of weight that could bring even the strongest man down. "You should've called."

  "Didn't have your number, but it's cool. We're good. Being a dad is the greatest gift ever." Luc grinned then, that same bold grin he'd always had. "But glad to have you back, buddy. This island's too quiet without you. You opening up shop again? Heard you already got the rooms filling back up."

  Cole cleared his throat. "Actually, no, I'm selling the place."

  Luc stared at him, his gaze burning into him. "What? Why?"

  Cole was surprised to find that Luc could still get to him the way that only someone who had known you most of your life could. "Because it's not my place anymore."

  "Fuck that. It's been waiting for you all these years. You can't sell it. You gotta run it."

  Cole suddenly felt tired, the same kind of tired he felt every time he thought of the island. "It's complicated."

  "Fuck complicated. You just make it complicated, just like you always did." Luc suddenly turned to Willow, who had stepped slightly off to the side, out of the conversation. "Luc Pelletier," he said, extending his hand. "You Cole's woman? If so, you need to snap his head on straight. He belongs here, and he knows it. He's just too damn scared to stand up and face it. He's been running for over a decade, and it's time for him to stop."

  Willow's eyes widened, but she shook Luc's hand. "My name's...Kate Smith," she said. Her gaze slated toward Cole. "Cole's okay," she said, looking back at Luc. "He knows what he needs to do, but I'm sorry about your wife."

  Luc's face softened. "Appreciate it, Kate. It's been a while, but you never forget, right?"

  She nodded, then she smiled back, a genuine smile that lit up her face. "Right."

  The two of them smiled at each other, and suddenly a wave of jealousy shot through Cole. He narrowed his eyes, and took Willow's hand, gently tugging her closer to him. "So, we'll see you inside then?"

  "Yeah, you got it. Watch for the third sheep. That's my boy." Luc winked. "He was so mad he was a sheep. It's highly uncool. I told him you were a sheep for six years in a row, and he felt better."

  Cole laughed then, the tension easing from his body. There was nothing like being around people who knew he'd been a sheep for more than half a decade. "I was a damned good sheep."

  "That's why you never got out of that role. If you're too good at being a sheep, you never get to be a king." Luc nodded at Willow. "Maybe a dance later, Kate? I can tell you all of Cole's secrets, before he became a rich bastard with no time for the little people."

  She grinned. "I'd like that."

  Luc blew her a kiss, and she was still laughing as Cole took her hand. "He seems nice."

  "Yeah, he's a good guy." Cole couldn't help but smile at the glow on her face. "He didn't seem to recognize you," he remarked casually. "Guess I'm not the only one who lives under a rock."

  Her smile widened. "I noticed that too. Maybe I can just be me. Wouldn't that be great?"

  "You should
always be you." Cole tucked her up under his arm, and this time, when one of his old friends called his name, he didn't shy away. It actually, in a way, felt good to be back.

  Maybe it had been right to come back and do a proper farewell to the life he used to have. His flight to Australia left the day after the next ferry landed on the mainland. He wouldn't be back to the States for at least three years once he got on that plane. This was his last moment, and suddenly, as he looked around at the faces he'd once known so well, he wanted to make it count.

  He looked down at Willow, who was scanning the room with rapt attention, completely immersed in the moment, clearly not thinking anymore about being recognized. Something shifted inside him. It was Willow who'd gotten him out here tonight. Willow, who had made him think about Christmas again. Willow, who had made him start to care again. Willow, who'd gotten through to him when nothing else had.

  She looked up at him. When she saw him watching her, she broke into a wide smile. "Thanks for bringing me here, Cole." She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his mouth, right there in front of everyone.

  Claiming him.

  He immediately snaked his arm around her back and pulled her close, kissing her back, just to make sure that everyone knew he agreed with her claim.

  * * *

  By the time the last call for eggnog rolled around, Willow's cheeks hurt from laughing so much. She'd danced with just about every male in Mystic, including a six-week-old baby and the ninety-three-year-old man who ran the town gardens. Everyone was lovely, everyone was nice, and no one was perfect. She'd seen a man propose. She'd helped a young woman clean up her makeup in the bathroom after sobbing over her boyfriend who'd just dumped her. She'd fended off the town's animal advocate who was fostering three dogs and had tried to get Willow to adopt two of them. There were the wealthy people who'd retired to the island after years of summering, and there were those who were the lifeblood of the island, the fourth generation plumber, and the third-generation electrician, who knew everyone who'd been born on the island for the last hundred years.

  People were too loud, too quiet, too friendly, and too merry, and she loved every minute of it because everyone was real. There were no pretenses, just people being who they were, for better or for worse….including Cole, who was an incredible dancer, and clearly well loved by his town. He'd never left her side, making her feel like the belle of the ball. Even when he'd deigned to let Luc steal a dance with her, his eyes had never left her the entire time they were apart, making her feel like he was counting the seconds until she would be in his arms again. She knew she was, and he'd made it clear she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

  It was, most definitely, a night she would never, ever forget, and for all the right reasons.

  "The last dance is mine," Cole announced, sweeping in to grab her hand just as Luc reached for it. "Sorry, buddy, but you need to find one of your own."

  He gave Luc an affectionate thud on the shoulder, then he pulled her out onto the dance floor as the local band launched into one of her favorite Christmas songs, one that had made her decide that grandmas and reindeers should never mix.

  She laughed as he spun her around, moving with grace and fluidity that made her feel like she was flying. "I've had so much fun tonight," she said. "Is it always like this on the island?"

  "Nope. We're real and flawed, but everyone's got your back, even if they're pissed at you." He grinned at her. "It's good to see you smile."

  She laughed. "You too, even if you are a rich bastard who has forgotten the little people, according to Luc and one of the women at the refreshment table," she teased, feeling so lighthearted. "I can't believe you want to leave this behind."

  He shrugged. "It's not the same for me anymore," he said, shadows flickering behind his eyes.

  Her gaiety faded somewhat. "I know," she said. "I've heard a lot about your dad tonight. He sounds like he was an amazing man."

  Cole pulled her closer and nuzzled her neck. "He was."

  She shivered, chills racing down her spine as his warm breath brushed over her bare skin. "And I met your stepdad. He's very nice."

  Cole stiffened almost imperceptibly, and pulled back to look at her. "He's not my stepdad," he said curtly. "He married my mother. There's a difference."

  She sighed, unable to forget the guilt, regret, and sadness in his stepdad's eyes. "He wants to talk to you. Why don't you give him another chance? He seems like he really loved your mother."

  Cole's jaw flexed, and his gaze flashed to the corner, where his stepfather was standing, watching them. "Got nothing to say to him."

  "Yes, you do."

  Cole stopped dancing, his hands dropping from her waist. "Let it go, Willow."

  She caught his arm before he could turn away. "No. You have so many people who love you, and you refuse to see it. Do you know what I'd do if I had this? I'd never let it go. I'd treasure every minute of it. Do you know how lucky you are?"

  His eyes narrowed. "Willow, drop it—"

  "Willow?" A teen girl passing by stopped suddenly, staring at Willow. "Willow Morgan?"

  Willow's stomach dropped. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. Not when she was having such a good time. Not when she and Cole were talking about something so important.

  Cole's gaze shot to the girl, and then back to Willow. He swore under his breath, then ensnared her wrist and pulled her into his arms, tucking her against him so his body provided a barrier between her and the girl. She buried her face in his neck, almost holding her breath as he swung her around the dance floor, toward the other end of the room. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I fucked up by using your real name."

  "It's not your fault. I don't want you to call me Kate." She needed him to see her for who she was, or the whole night was a lie.

  "You okay?" His voice was low and reassuring as he spoke to her.

  "Is she watching us?" She didn't dare lift her head.

  "She's talking to other people and pointing at us." Cole's arm tightened around her lower back, and his fingers lightly grasped the back of her neck, tucking her more securely into the shield of his body. "What do you want to do? You want to leave?"

  Dammit. No, she didn't want to leave. She wanted a night out like a regular person.

  "Willow?" He spoke softly, too quietly for anyone else to hear. "What do you want to do? We can sneak out the side door. We're right next to it. I can take you down to the square to see the tree. It's amazing down there."

  Was that really who she was? Skulking out side doors? Couldn't she be brave enough not to run away? She lifted her head to look around. Across the room, she saw two women pointing at her. Luc was beside them, his face shocked. She met his gaze, and she knew instantly that he no longer saw her as Kate Smith, a regular woman who he could tease and steal dances from when Cole wasn't looking. She was Willow Morgan to him, to all of them, and the night would no longer be the same. She didn't want her memories of the evening to be ruined. "Yes," she said quietly. "Let's leave."

  "You got it. Wait here." Cole disappeared into the crowd, and then was back within moments, carrying their coats. "Let's go, sweetheart." He handed over her coat as he moved them stealthily toward the door, slipping her through the doorway so deftly it made her wonder how many times he'd snuck out the back door when he didn't want to socialize.

  They shrugged on their jackets, but said nothing as he took her hand and led her through the snow around to the side of the old brick building. She kicked her borrowed boots through the snow, her footsteps silent in the powdery Christmas magic. She took a deep breath, trying to regain the mood that had felt so good before she'd been recognized, but it was elusive, chased away by the knowledge that people were talking about her now, repeating things that they'd read online, seeing her as fodder for gossip, not an actual woman.

  Cole squeezed her hand. "We're here. Merry Christmas."

  She looked up, and her breath caught when she saw the majestic Christmas tree. It was so tall, at least two stories
high. It was covered with fresh snow, twinkling lights, and hundreds of ornaments. An angel was shining on the top, her white dress and wings almost blending into the new snow. It was majestic, breathtaking, and magical. "It's bigger than the one in Times Square in New York City," she whispered, unable to keep the awe out of her voice.

  "Sure is. And it's a live tree. It's been growing there since long before I was born. Amazing, isn't it?"

  "It's incredible." She walked up to it, unable to believe how huge it was. There were amazing glass ornaments that were works of art, and paper ones that looked like they were made by preschoolers, and everything in between.

  "Everyone in town has at least one ornament that they've put on there. Anyone who is in Mystic for Christmas has to add one, so their visit will be immortalized forever." He reached into his pocket and held out a small box wrapped in gold tissue paper. "It's not much, but it's all I could come up with on such short notice. I couldn't break the tradition, though."

  He'd brought her an ornament? "Oh, Cole. That's so sweet." Her heart softened as she took the package from him. "You didn't have to give me anything, Cole."

  "Sure I did. Tradition." He was watching her closely, hopefully. "It's not much," he said again.

  "It's everything." It didn't even matter what was in it. The fact that he'd brought her an ornament so she could hang it and leave her mark forever was so beautiful that it didn't matter what it was. She handed her mittens to him to hold, then carefully unwrapped the tissue. Inside was a small scallop shell with a piece of old brown string through a hole in the top. Her heart seemed to stop, and she looked up at him. "It's from that night, isn't it?" The night they'd met, she'd found a scallop shell on the beach, and she'd given it to him when they'd parted, telling him to keep it as a memento of the night. She hadn't really thought he'd keep it. She'd been teasing, trying to bring a little lightheartedness into a good-bye that had felt too heavy.