“Open your eyes,” he demanded harshly. “Look at me.”
Surprised, she did, and saw the heat in his blue-gray eyes, fierce yet tender. His hands caught hers, and he intertwined their fingers, using the strength of his arms to keep her balanced. Tension shifted from her arms to his and back again as she lifted up and down, freeing his cock almost all the way, slowly, so slowly, prolonging the anticipation, the moment when…
She sank down on him, taking him deeply as he pushed up inside her, filling her, brushing every sensitive, aroused cell.
She whimpered with pleasure, clenched internal muscles to grip him, then released him and began again. Each stroke took her higher, wound her tighter, built her need.
All the time, he held her gaze, that simple act even more intimate than what their bodies were doing. Intimate, confusing, yet wonderful. She could have closed her eyes, shut him out. But she didn’t.
She leaned forward, changing the angle so his shaft brushed her clit as it slid out of her body. And rubbed against it when he thrust in.
“Oh, yes,” she cried. “Yes, LJ.”
They did it again, again, and pleasure spiraled, peaked, and finally broke in waves of pleasure as he plunged deep and hard in his own climax.
Lying with his arm around Charlie, LJ felt physically satiated, but it wasn’t enough.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t sell the B&B, Charlie. Use it to finance your business. Set up your tattoo parlor in Whistler, work with Sandy on the clothing business, and do snowboard designs.”
She eased back in his arms and studied him for a long moment, as if she was considering it. Then she sighed. “And have to deal with people like your parents? I don’t need the grief.”
“I’ve had my fill of it, too. This morning I told my parents I’d had it with them being so judgmental.”
“LJ!”
“And I said I was dating you.”
“You did?” Her eyes lit with wonder and, he’d swear, pleasure. Then her brows pulled together. “But we’re not dating,” she said quietly. “We’re friends who are having sex.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’d make them happier.” He was sick of Charlie’s denials. She knew they were making love. “Go out with me. Then we’ll be dating.”
She sat up in bed, rubbing her forehead. “You know I don’t belong here.”
He could offer to go to Toronto, and he would if that was what it took. But Charlie’d never be a whole person if she didn’t face up to Whistler. And to her feelings for him. “Don’t refuse to see what we have together,” he fired back, sitting up too, “just because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared. I’ve built a good life for myself in Toronto. I have a career, friends. Respect.”
“You could have that here.”
“Respect?”
“Give people a chance. You’ve grown up. Show them who you really are, don’t play the badass like you used to.”
“I can’t…” She frowned, then touched his shoulder. “Don’t make things so complicated. Let’s enjoy the sex and part friends.”
Nerdy, insecure Lester would have given anything if Charlie’d even noticed him. Now she was screwing LJ hot and hard. But it wasn’t enough. He deserved more, and so did she.
He’d tried being patient and sensitive, but that wasn’t working. She’d been calling the shots, and now it was his turn.
That morning, he’d given his parents an ultimatum. He’d risked their relationship because the issue was important to him. And because Charlie was important. “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” He forced the words out.
“What?” She jerked her hand from his shoulder.
“I’m falling in love with you.”
Her hazel eyes widened, gleaming golden. A smile curved her lips, then she straightened them and scowled. “You’re realizing a teen fantasy.”
“I’m long past that. It’s the adult Charlie I care for. And you care for me, too.” The old insecurity bit into him, but he pushed past it. “I won’t have sex with you again until you admit we’re making love.”
She rubbed a hand across her dragon’s head.
He grabbed her hand. “No, not that tattoo.” He pulled her hand away and tugged it up to the back of her neck. “This one. The one that’s about love. That’s where we’re heading, Charlie.”
“I…” She looked so confused and troubled, he almost felt sorry for her.
But he wasn’t going to quit. “There’s a dance at the Fairmont, with the proceeds going to help needy families at Christmas. I want you to go as my date.”
She’d started shaking her head when he said “dance” and now sputtered, “No, no, no. A Christmas dance? With all of Whistler there?” Her chin came up. “Oh, I get it, you’re trying to prove something to your parents. Well, leave me out of it.”
“The only point I’m trying to prove is that I care about you, and I’d be proud to be with you.”
“You don’t care what I want.” She spat the words out and swung out of bed. “You haven’t listened to me from the day I arrived. Everything has to be your way.”
He climbed out, too. “Uh-uh. You’ve been setting the rules from day one, and I’ve been knuckling under.”
“Then we agree to disagree.” Hurriedly, she pulled on her clothes. “I’m leaving.”
The truck’s heater hadn’t kicked in yet, but Charlie didn’t care. She was steaming. LJ clearly didn’t give a damn about her.
After driving in silence for a few minutes, he said grimly, “You’re a lot like your aunt.”
“I am not! I’m nothing like her.”
“Let me count the ways.” He shoved a hand in front of her and actually stuck up one finger. “She was sociable but she always kept a little distance.” He raised another finger, ignoring her glare. “Everything had to be on her terms.” A third finger. “She cared too damn much about what other people thought.”
She slumped back in the seat, arms wrapped tight around her body, refusing to respond. What had happened to the sensitive LJ she’d been getting to know and care about? He’d gone crazy, first saying he was falling for her—which he so obviously wasn’t—then bullying and insulting her.
“Charlie, be yourself, be proud of who you are, and don’t let other people hurt your feelings.”
Like it was that easy? “In Toronto I don’t have to take crap from people.”
“You’re running away again,” he snapped. “If it was important enough to you, if I was important enough to you, you’d have the courage to deal with your past, with Whistler, and with all the reasons you’re scared to fall in love.”
Ooh! He’d said he was falling in love with her, but he didn’t have a clue what love was. Ginger and Jake had always been gentle and caring, they hadn’t beaten each other up with words. “You don’t get it.”
“It sucks to be you?” he taunted. “You’re acting like a kid. Grow up and take responsibility for your actions.” He jerked the truck to a stop in front of the Mountain View.
“It only sucks to be me when I’m here in Whistler. I can’t wait to leave.”
10
“Christmas is a good time to sell,” the perky redheaded realtor told Charlie three days later, after a tour of the B&B. “People are enjoying Whistler at its best and thinking they’d like to move here. We’ll price it to move and go for the quickest closing date we can get.”
“Thanks.” They’d signed the listing agreement at the kitchen table, and walked together to the door.
The last days had been nasty, as a clearly pissed-off LJ cracked the whip, and everyone worked their butts off, with none of the camaraderie they’d shared before.
He’d barely spoken to her, and that had hurt. Why couldn’t he understand her feelings?
The realtor paused at the door. “You’ve done a lovely job with the renovations.”
She nodded. Though the crew had rushed the job through, they’d paid attention to getting things done right. It would never feel like home, but
she’d developed a certain affection for the Mountain View. And for Joey and Will.
And LJ. Or at least, the sweet LJ she’d known before he turned into a bully.
She called a taxi, then hurried upstairs to add the final items to her backpack. Gently, she folded the dress Sandy had given her. One of her own designs, it was a vivid scarlet and had a halter top and swirly skirt. Charlie had no idea where she’d wear such a dress, but it was a thing of beauty.
On the desk lay two drawings. The one for Mr. D, which she knew LJ would deliver, incorporated a heart, roses, and his wife’s name. It was soft, feminine, romantic. She lifted the other, thinking maybe she should rip it up. But LJ could do that, if he wanted to.
It was the very first sketch she’d drawn of him: golden sawdust on strong cheekbones, blue-gray eyes steady and strong. She hadn’t shown it to a soul. No need to keep it; that image of him was burned into her brain. And her heart.
Beside the drawings lay two envelopes. One held Patty’s letter. She hadn’t decided whether to take it or throw it out.
Christmas lights flicked on across the street. The woman crossed the living room, and the tree lit up. Soon her husband would be home and they’d share a meal, the way Charlie and LJ had done several times.
She unfolded the letter, and her gaze lingered on the last sentences.
I can never erase the wrongs I did to you, but I can try to make things right. I can give you the home I denied you ten years ago. Perhaps it will even bring you the love you were so long denied.
I hope you are a better, braver woman than I, that you can come to terms with your own past, and that you’ll live a happy, regret-free life.
Well, soon things would be right, in that she’d have the money from the sale of the B&B. She could have had that without coming to Whistler. Why had Patty made her come here? Had it been her attempt to make Charlie come to terms with her past?
Had Charlie done that?
In some ways, yes. Even though LJ didn’t seem to think so.
LJ…Had Patty really been trying to matchmake?
Maybe she, like Charlie, had been sucked in by LJ’s masculine strength and apparent sensitivity. Perhaps she hadn’t seen the bullying side of him.
Hmm…Charlie gazed out the window again, where the Christmas lights reminded her of the night LJ had persuaded her to decorate the tree. Even then, he’d had an agenda. But it wasn’t so much bullying, as asking her to be strong and confront her demons.
What had he actually meant, that night when they’d fought? Had he been encouraging her to have enough self-esteem that she didn’t care if not everyone liked her?
Wasn’t that what she’d always hoped to be strong enough to do?
He’d said she was scared to fall in love, and it was true. Her heart had taken enough battering. It was so hard to believe a man might find her lovable. She touched her dragon. Her guardian had thrown up defense after defense, trying to protect her. Yet, now, her heart ached.
LJ had asked her to fight for them. He’d found the courage to take on his parents.
He’d said he was falling for her.
She’d never known LJ to lie.
She touched the tattoo on her neck. Jake had given Ginger a gentle, supportive love. Maybe he’d never had to challenge her or fight for their love.
When she’d designed their tattoo, she’d thought of the uniqueness of each of them, and of what made them special as a couple. When she’d designed other tattoos for lovers, she’d done the same.
Each couple was different. Of course they were, because each human being was unique.
She glanced down again at the letter and touched the words, a happy, regret-free life. Patty had lived with regrets until the day she died.
If Charlie went back to her safe little world, if she ran away from LJ, would she, too, always live with regret? The regret that she’d known a man who might love her, a man she might love back, and she’d thrown away all the glorious possibilities because she was scared?
On the desk lay the other envelope, this one much smaller. After LJ, Will, and Joey had left that morning, she’d found it on the kitchen table.
She opened it and shook out the ticket. He’d given her one final chance.
Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Her taxi had arrived.
Dressed in his best black suit, a crisp white dress shirt, and a striped silk tie, LJ entered the ballroom at the Fairmont. The chandeliers sparkled, banks of red and white poinsettias rimmed the room, and a tall tree stood in one corner, elegantly trimmed in gold and red.
An orchestra played at one end of the room and people in formal dress lined up at two bars. A couple of arches were hung with mistletoe, encouraging Christmas kisses.
Would she come?
For three days, they’d avoided each other. He’d ached for her, and he had no idea what she’d been thinking. Maybe he should have tried to talk to her again, but what more was there to say? All he could do was hope. It was Christmas, the season of love. Of miracles.
He went over to speak to his parents. Things with his folks were still strained, but both he and Emily were working on them. People could change. He firmly believed that.
His sister was here, too. Not with her boyfriend, who’d already made other plans, but with an old high school girlfriend. Emily came over and said, “Promise me a dance so I’m not a total wallflower.”
“You and me both.”
She glanced past him and her face lit up. “I take it back. Your dance card is full.”
Heart racing, he turned.
Charlie. Stunning in a red flame of a dress. The first dress he’d ever seen her in. And heels that made her long legs seem endless.
The low V-neck revealed enough cleavage to make a man moan. The snout of her dragon breathed fire on her creamy breast, and its tail wrapped around her bare shoulder. She’d swept up her hair, baring her neck and the feather-flower tattoo.
Charlie, being herself. Not the in-your-face kid, but a grown woman who knew who she was and was proud of it.
He hurried to meet her, catching her hands in his. “You came.”
“I want you. I want us, LJ. We’re worth fighting for. I don’t care about anyone else’s opinion. Only yours.” Her eyes shone with sincerity.
Yes. Finally. Perfectly. “Come here.” Gently he tugged her toward one of the arches.
“LJ?”
He pointed up. “Mistletoe. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” She went into his arms, slender, warm, and lovely, and lifted her face to his.
He kissed her softly, thinking about that long-ago dance and her dickhead date. Tonight, she was a queen and he’d treat her with reverence.
Her arms circled his neck, her body fitting perfectly against his as she deepened the kiss and gave him a taste of her tongue.
His cock stirred, and he eased away, laughing. “You trying to shock people, Charlie Coltrane?”
“I was born to shock.” Her eyes danced with humor.
He slid his hands down her back and let them rest at the base of her spine. “You’re gorgeous. That’s an amazing dress.”
“Sandy gave it to me. And loaned me the shoes.”
“I like you dressed up. But then, I like you in jeans. I like you in a towel. Most of all, I like you in nothing at all.”
“Later. You invited me to a dance, and I want to dance.”
He was proud of her. Proud that she didn’t take the opportunity to rush home. “Me, too.”
“Then I want to go home and make love with you.” She gazed steadily into his eyes. “Because I do care, LJ. I’m sorry for the way I treated you. You’re right, I was scared. Scared of rejection, scared of risking my heart.”
“And you’re not any longer?”
“Oh, yeah. But I’m tired of being a coward.” She took a deep breath. “Speaking of which, we should say hello to your parents.”
“Yes.” In public, his mom and dad would avoid making a scene.
“Hey, a
re you two finished with that mistletoe?” a humorous male voice asked.
“Almost.” LJ dipped his head to give Charlie another quick kiss, to fortify both of them.
Then, arms around each other, they headed across the ballroom. He felt tension in her body, saw the lift of her head when a couple nearby pointed and whispered. The gossip had started, but she held her head high.
Emily hurried over to join them. “Charlie, I’m so glad you came.”
“Me too,” she said. “I think.”
His sister gave a knowing nod. “Are you going to confront the ogres?”
“That’s the plan,” she answered nervously.
“I’m coming too.” She hooked her arm through Charlie’s free one. “Three against two.”
Linked together, they went over to where his parents stood, watching. No doubt they’d seen it all. Charlie’s entrance. The kiss. Emily’s gesture of support.
Their gazes darted all over Charlie, pausing on the dragon.
LJ faced them, shoulders squared. “Mom, Dad, let’s do this again. I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Charlie Coltrane.”
There was a long pause, then his mother inclined her head slightly and said, “Charlotte.”
Charlie freed herself from him and Emily and stepped forward. She held out her hand. “It’s Charlie. I’m pleased to meet you, Ms. Jacoby.”
His mother’s mouth twitched, not with humor. “It’s Mrs.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Jacoby,” Charlie said evenly, hand still extended.
After an excruciatingly long moment, his mother put out her hand and shook quickly. “The same.” She paused, then grudgingly added, “Charlie.”
Well, damn. He’d never managed to make his mom call him LJ.
“Mr. Jacoby?” Again, Charlie held out her hand.
“Charlie.” His father shook it, then said, “That’s an interesting tattoo.”
“Thank you.”
The dragon had done such a good job of protecting her heart. Now, it was LJ’s turn.
In that moment, he knew he loved her. She was vulnerable, yet strong. Tender, yet passionate. She was the girl he’d had a mad crush on and the woman he’d fallen in love with.
The Naughty List Page 28