Tis the Season

by Jill Sanders

  “Others hit the jackpot too,” he hinted.

  She shook her head and the room spun slightly. “No, they don’t. They may find love or what they call love for a while, but really, it’s just a momentary bout of lust.”

  “This is love,” he said clearly.

  “How can you tell the difference?” she asked.

  He pulled her closer, and his lips settled over hers. The kiss rocked her, and she felt her toes curl.

  “That could be lust.” She sighed, looking up at him.

  He smiled. “Have you ever felt that with anyone else?”

  “No,” she answered quickly. “Have you?”

  He shook his head. His finger was making small circles on her stomach now and she felt a stir of desire hit her like a tidal wave.

  “Never.” He leaned in and kissed her again.

  “It could be lust,” she said against his mouth.

  “This goes beyond physical.” He leaned back, and his eyes searched hers. “Go deeper,” he urged.

  She did, focusing her mind and really thinking about how he made her feel. No, she’d never felt this way about another man or even another person before.

  “Yes,” she admitted after a moment, “it does.”

  She pulled him down to her, their lips melting against one another. When his hand moved under her sweatshirt, she rotated their positions until she straddled his hips. As he watched her, she pulled the sweatshirt off over her head and tossed it on the floor. Then she reached for his shirt. He leaned up, allowing her to remove it and toss it to the floor with hers.

  When she reached for his jeans, he stopped her.

  “Jesus,” he moaned. “Blake, give me a minute.”

  “I don’t want to wait.” She moved quickly and tugged his pants down, then kicked off her leggings. “Condoms?” she asked, looking around.

  “Back pocket,” he said, his fingers digging into her hips. He groaned as she used her hand to stroke him. “Better hurry,” he said.

  She grabbed the condom, opened it, and slid it onto him. She climbed up, onto him, and his hands gripped her hips again, his eyes met hers.

  “Don’t punish me.” He groaned. She smiled down at him, then slowly slid onto him.

  How was she to know that she’d been torturing herself as well? Her body took him in and her head fell back as her eyes closed with pure pleasure.

  “Matt,” she sighed, then his fingers dug softly into her, begging her to move over him.

  When she did start moving, everything she’d been holding back released. Her body moved on its own, taking what it wanted. Matt arched up, covered her breast with his mouth, holding her close.

  He moved and had her under him quickly, pinning her knees against his chest as he took over. She had to admit, his speed was more erotic than hers. The way he moved had her arching for him, enjoying him even further.

  He kissed her until she once again lost all of her control, feeling him follow her off the cliff a moment later.

  Sometime later, she woke when Matt covered them with the blankets. “Will Butters be okay on his own?” he asked.

  She snuggled closer to him and smiled. “I love that you’re concerned about him,” she said into his chest.

  “We can bring him in here?” he suggested.

  “For tonight, he’ll be okay.” She snuggled closer to his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat against her cheek. “I’ll talk to my parents about staying here,” she said.

  He glanced down at her, but it was too dark to see, so he reached over and flipped on the light.

  “Think we can have the guest rooms done by then?” he asked.

  “I’m hoping.” She smiled at him as he sat up. When he started to climb out of the bed, she reached for him. “Where are you going?”

  “I left the pie in the other room.” He smiled at her and she laughed, then waved him off.

  “By all means, don’t let me get between you and your dessert.” She watched him rush from the room, then her eyes moved over to the window.

  She felt the shiver first and braced for what was coming so that by the time the woman, Emogene, appeared, she was prepared.

  “Emogene?” Blake asked, getting the woman’s attention. She’d appeared facing away from her, looking out the bay windows. Now, she turned towards Blake and she could see what Matt had seen. Sadness filled the woman’s eyes.

  “You’re looking for your daughter?” she asked.

  Something sprang into the woman’s hollow eyes. Hope?

  “Find her.” The words drifted in the night, shocking Blake with how clear they had sounded.

  “Did she… die?” Blake had hesitated to ask, but figured it was the first step.

  Emogene shook her head slightly and turned back to the window. “Taken,” she whispered just before her image disappeared.

  She felt the shiver rush up her spine at the same moment Matt stepped in, balancing a tray of apple pie and a small carton of ice cream. When he noticed the look on her fac, he rushed to her side, setting the tray on the edge of the bed.

  “What?” He took her hands in his. “Your hands are like ice.”

  “Emogene.” She nodded to the window and he glanced over. “She was here.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I think… she talked.”

  “I thought I told you that?” he said, rubbing her hands with his.

  “You did, but… there’s nothing like hearing it for yourself.” She shivered again.

  Matt reached up and wrapped the smaller blanket around her. “Do you want your sweatshirt?” he asked.

  “No, I’ll be okay.”

  “What did she say?” he asked as he reached for the tray and pulled it closer to them.

  “Find her,” she repeated. “When I asked if it was her daughter, she nodded. I asked if she had died and she shook her head, then she said, ‘Taken.’”

  “Kidnapped?” he asked.

  “I assume so.” She took the plate from him. He must have microwaved the pie, because the plate was warm.

  “Ice cream?” he asked, holding up a spoonful of vanilla.

  She chuckled. “How do you stay so skinny?”

  He shrugged. “I work out.”

  “No ice cream for me. Until I can hit the gym.”

  “You’re perfect.” He leaned in and kissed her as he dropped the spoonful onto her plate. “Apple pie isn’t good unless it is a la mode.”

  She sighed and sat with her back against the wall and ate pie with him while they debated what had happened to the baby.

  “I’ll call my aunt and father tomorrow morning, let them know we’re looking for any information on their daughter.” He took her empty plate and set it down on the floor. “For now, let’s shut down.” He pulled her down under the covers, wrapped his arms around her, and just held on. He brushed his lips across the skin just above her ear and had her melting. “Do you think…that you could run your business from here?”

  She tensed, then turned until they were eye to eye. “What are you asking?”

  He smiled. “I want you here, full time, like this.”

  She shook her head. “It’s… fast.”

  He shrugged. “Think about it. We’ve got a few weeks to go.” He kissed her again and she relaxed and felt herself drifting off.

  Once again, she was standing in the field, looking around. This time, however, a name floated on the breeze.

  “Anna Beth.” Someone was shouting it in the distance, repeatedly.

  She turned around, saw the lights in the house, and saw a figure standing in the master bedroom window. Everyone from the party was supposed to be out looking for her baby. Why was someone in her bedroom?

  Picking up her skirts, she rushed through the tall grass, racing to see a face in the dark shadow of a figure. Taking the back stairs that led to the large deck, she entered the house through the sliding glass door and rushed down the long hallway, crying her daughter’s name.

  “Blake.”
She was being shaken and when her eyes opened, the light from the room blinded her for a moment, disorienting her further. “Blake.” His arms were around her shoulders, holding her close. “Are you okay?”

  She took a deep breath and then another. “Yes,” she finally said. “I’m alright.”

  “It was just a dream.” He hugged her.

  “No, it was her.” She nodded to the windows. “She was in the field, everyone was, looking for her daughter.”

  “Anna Beth?” he asked.

  “How—”

  “You were screaming it over and over,” he answered, still holding onto her. She could see that he was slightly pale, his eyes scanning her face.

  “I’m okay,” she said again. “Really.” She hugged him back. Just being in his arms made everything feel right.

  “How about a drink of water?” he asked.

  “I’ll go with you.” She rolled out of the bed. Realizing she was still naked, he handed her his T-shirt from the floor and she pulled it on. The material skimmed the lower part of her thighs. “What time is it?” she asked, glancing around the room for a clock.

  “A quarter to three.” He sighed.

  “I’m sorry.” She groaned. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He pulled on a pair of gym shorts and hugged her again. She laid her face against his warm chest and held on.

  “It’s okay,” he said into her hair. “It gives me an excuse to have some more pie.” She laughed and followed him into the kitchen.

  Chapter 11

  “Sure, I can meet you,” Matt told his father as he glanced down at his watch. “Where?”

  “Sassy and Classy,” his father said quickly. “We think we’ve found something.”

  “Okay, give me about fifteen minutes, I’ll head over there.”

  “Sure,” his father said before hanging up.

  Matt had Nicky clear the next hour off his schedule. He had a few conference calls, but for the most part, this close to the holidays, business slowed down.

  Instead of driving, he decided to walk since the sun had come out and Sassy and Classy was only a few blocks away. Still, he pulled on his jacket as he walked and when he opened the front door of the boutique, his nose was probably red from the cold.

  “Hey.” Riley walked over and gave him a hug.

  “Hey.” He kissed the top of her head. Out of all the Jordan cousins, she was the shortest.

  “My dad here?” He glanced around the open space and noticed a few new paintings hanging on the wall from her mother, his aunt.

  “Sure, he’s in the back with Aunt Lacey,” she answered.

  “These are new.” He walked over to the paintings.

  “She just dropped them off this morning.” Riley smiled. “This one is called Rain.”

  He liked the darkness of it, the blueness. Immediately, he could imagine it hanging in his office. “Wrap it up.” He smiled. “Bill me.” He winked at her. He started to walk towards the back but stopped when he glanced in one of the display cases full of jewelry.

  A silver bracelet with a light blue stone caught his eye. “What’s that?” He pointed to the bracelet.

  Riley walked over and smiled. “It’s called a bracelet, women wear them—”

  “Smart ass.” He nudged her. “What’s it made out of?”

  “Silver.” She walked around and opened the case with a key wrapped around her wrist. “Crystals, rhinestone, a blue topaz, nothing too expensive.” She chuckled.

  “How much?” He glanced up at his cousin.

  “For you?” She smiled. “A hundred.”

  “Dollars?” He narrowed his eyes.

  “I did say silver and blue topaz.” She smiled and tried the bracelet on. “Who’s the lucky woman?”

  He sighed. “I’ll take it. Wrap it up too.”

  Riley stopped him from walking away with a hand on his chest. “Not until you tell me who.” She smiled and raised her chin slightly.

  “Blake,” he answered, knowing he wouldn’t get past his five-foot-four cousin without answering.

  “Blake? Our Blake?” She narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing buying jewelry for our Blake?”

  “She’s not yours.” He smiled. “She’s mine. I knew her long before you did.”

  “You did?” she called out to his back as he walked down the hallway and disappeared into the storage room.

  His father, aunt, and other cousin, Lilly, were all sitting around the table in the back room.

  “Hey,” he said, touching his aunt and Lilly’s shoulders then taking the seat next to his father. “What’s up?”

  “We think…” his aunt started, but then she motioned for his father to talk.

  “We found your ghost.” He smiled.

  “Emogene.” He nodded. “Yes, we know.”

  “No, I mean, Lacey called Father Michael, asked him about Phillip and Emogene Stratton.”

  “And?” he asked, interested now.

  “They’re buried up at the cemetery. Side by side,” his aunt answered. She nudged her phone towards him.

  A grainy picture of two headstones joined by hearts filled the screen.

  He read the inscription out loud.

  “Emogene Stratton, loving wife, mother of the lost, married 1923, taken from us too soon, 1930. Dr. Phillip Stratton, loving husband, died of a broken heart. Born 1893, married, 1923, died, 1931”

  “Taken from us too soon,” Lacey repeated. “Murdered.”

  Matt felt a shiver run up his spine. “He died of a broken heart—suicide?” His father nodded.

  “Mother to the lost,” Lilly said.

  “Stolen,” Matt added. “Don’t ask how we know, but we think the baby was taken from them.”

  “That would explain this.” Lacey slid a piece of paper across the table. It was a copy of a small newspaper clipping.

  He read this one out loud too.

  “Five-thousand-dollar reward: Any information on the disappearance of Anna Beth Stratton.” There was a number below a grainy picture of a baby.

  “That poor family,” Lacey said, sniffling.

  “Can you send me these?” He motioned to his aunt’s phone.

  She took her phone and he heard his phone chime in his pocket. “Thanks, how about this?” He took the paper.

  “It’s yours.” His father nodded. “We’re going to keep looking, but the stacks of old newspapers in the library are…”

  “Huge,” Lacey finished for him.

  “Thank you.” He sighed. “If I had more time, I’d help out.”

  “You’ve got a business to run.” His father smiled. “I’m retired.”

  “Rub it in,” Lacey said sarcastically.

  “Speaking of work.” Lilly stood up. “I better get back at it.” She touched her mother’s shoulder. “Dinner?” she asked.

  “As always,” Lacey replied, touching Lilly’s hand. “See you there.”

  Matt stood up, tucking the paper into his jacket pocket.

  “Speaking of dinner,” his father said, “how about you bring your new friend over Friday?”

  Matt’s eyebrows shot up. “New friend?”

  “The door was open.” His aunt smiled. “And Riley’s voice carries.”

  He sighed. “Friday.” He nodded, knowing he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “If you find out anything else…”

  “Yeah,” both his father and his aunt said at the same time. The two of them were step-siblings. His father’s mother was his grandfather’s first wife. She’d divorced him, and he’d married Lacey and Iian’s mother, who had died giving birth to Iian.

  Matthew never really thought of his dad’s mother, since he’d never met her. He’d overheard his father telling his mother once that the woman had remarried and had simply chosen to ignore her oldest son.

  He’d looked her up once, but after seeing a picture of a gray-haired woman sitting next to an older man, smiling with two blonde daughters, he’d decided she didn’t deserve any of his time or thoughts
.

  On his way back to his office, his aunt’s painting wrapped and tucked under his arm and the bracelet in his jacket pocket with the newspaper clipping, Matt thought about his time with Blake.

  He knew he’d moved fast with her. Hell, he’d fallen hard in Italy and had wanted to commit then. Still, did. Long-term kind of commitment, too.

  One of his great-grandmother’s rings sat in the safe at the office. His father had given his mother the original wedding ring, but there were other rings the family still had. He thought of the vintage square blue topaz ring and tapped his pocket, where the almost perfectly matched bracelet he’d just purchased was.

  When he got back to the office, he put the bracelet in the safe next to the ring. Lunchtime came and went, and he had food delivered. Blake had sent him a text telling him she’d made herself a sandwich with the groceries he’d purchased the night before.

  When it was time to finally head home, he drove through the small town of Pride, looking at the Christmas lights along the street sparkle. Every large tree in town had colored lights wrapped around their branches. Every limb was lit up so that it appeared to be made of magic. Every building was decorated with lights as well, and he knew that during the day, there was plenty of eye candy to keep everyone excited about the coming festivities. The main Christmas tree and decorations were due to be setup the first Sunday of December, as was tradition.

  Since his aunt had taken over as mayor, the town had had some major improvements.

  There were bigger town events and more holiday decorations, and big businesses were flooding into Pride.

  Driving up to the house and seeing all the lights on gave him a warm feeling. Seeing Blake standing in the doorway waiting for him had other feelings flooding him.

  “Hey.” He smiled.

  “Hi.” She opened the door so he could carry the painting in. “What did you get?”