by C. M. Albert
I swallowed hard as I watched the intensity of her eyes go from a bright and vibrant blue to a shade that was smoky and seductive. Her voice lowered and was a little husky when she asked, “You coming, Mitch? Or are you gonna make me do this alone?”
I was probably reading too much into Dez’s question, but the look in her eyes screamed invitation. I’d avoided romantic entanglements for years now. Not since Paris had I allowed myself to even go there with a woman. I’d gotten burned so hard by her . . . I’d been a fool to think there was anything other than superficial sex between us. If I was honest with myself, it had left a pretty empty hole in my gut and a huge distaste for even trying. Guess that’s why I preferred working with kids. I could put my whole heart into it and still go home at the end of the day without any demands from me.
But even that was getting harder and harder, I realized, my mind flitting to Christiano. Hell. The Universe just wasn’t having it. It kept throwing people my way lately who had a way of wiggling into my fucking heart and staying. I wasn’t sure I was ready for any of that.
I sighed. It’s just a bassinet, I reminded myself. Just a bassinet and a small list of to-do’s. “I’m in,” I mumbled, following her down to the workshop. I had a feeling my holiday plans were about to get a whole lot more complicated.
I WAS OPENING the can of stain that was sitting on Egan’s workbench when I heard Mitch step into the converted barn. His presence was big, even though my back was to him. He just seemed to take up space and fill it with this masculine energy I couldn’t name. But my lower region seemed to like it; and it liked it a lot. I felt a tug in my belly as he came up behind me.
I turned to face him, looking up into his dark brown eyes. Empty pools of desire looked back at me—bore into me, really. I swallowed hard, trying to focus on our job at hand.
“So,” I said, my voice squeakier than normal. I cleared my throat and picked up the can in front of me. “Egan said this is the stain he wants to use. It’s nice and dark, so it’ll be more forgiving. Have you ever stained something before?”
“Yeah—just not with one hand.” Mitch picked up the brush and turned to look at the bassinet. “I don’t want to fuck it up,” he admitted. “I was left handed before the accident, so I’m used to using this hand for stuff; but you may need to hold the bassinet steady for me.”
“Or, I can do it. I really don’t mind,” I offered. I didn’t want to offend him, but I hated to see the creased lines on his face that I knew came from a place of worry.
“No. Egan’s my best friend. I’d really like to do this. Can you just hold the jar closer to the bassinet, so I don’t drip it across the floor?”
I picked up the container and stood next to the bassinet, watching as Mitch shrugged out of his winter jacket and got comfortable. I got a better glimpse of his form without the bulk of his jacket, and I couldn’t help but gawk at the large bicep that was straining under the cloth of his sleeve. I watched as he slid his arm against his jeans to roll up his sleeve with the friction of the movement. He wasted no time getting busy, and smiled up at me as he dipped his brush into the open jar of mahogany stain.
A dimple popped through the stubble on his jaw and I saw instantly how charming and disarming Mitch truly was under his assholish exterior. Okay, so maybe “assholish” was a little too strong. I did pull out in front of him after all . . . though I’d never admit that to him. I watched as he took slow, careful strokes, and I couldn’t help but think about how his hand would feel running that slowly up and down the side of my body. There was something about watching a man in his element that triggered the heat in me. Okay, truth be told, it didn’t take much to trigger the heat in me when it came to Mitch. His hand was large, and I could tell that it was competent and strong. It was easy to imagine how his hand would feel wrapped around my hair, just as it wrapped so confidently around the handle of the brush.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice gruff and sexy.
“Yeah, why?” I shrugged my shoulders as if it were no big deal.
He grinned, setting the brush down on the table. He moved in closer to me, causing me to back up until I was against the workbench. “Because you made this adorable little squeaking sound just now. Sounded an awful lot like a moan.”
“I did not!” I sputtered, looking up at his firm chest, dying to run my fingers over the flat, hard surface of his pecs that were pushing through.
“Yes you did,” he insisted. “It sounded kind of like this—Mhm. Like maybe it surprised you. You have something going on in that gorgeous head of yours, Dez? Something other than bassinets?”
I didn’t like how out of control I felt around Mitch. I was usually the one with the upper hand. I could out bluff the best of ’em, but for some reason, I lost my cool around him. I needed to change this, and quick. I did the one thing I did best in these situations, the one thing that helped me feel in control.
I bridged the gap between us, wrapping my arms around the back of his head. I pushed off against the workbench and pressed my body closer to his. I moved in so close it was hard to feel where my body ended and his began. I felt him hard, pressed up against the flat of my stomach. I leaned in and breathed heavily in his ear, licking the lobe ever so gently.
I whispered, “Trust me, Mitch—if I have more on my mind, you’ll know. Make no mistake about that.” I bumped him with my pelvis and backed away, putting us at arm’s distance from each other. His eyes never left mine, but I could tell he was breathing heavy. The look in his eyes seemed to say, Game on. Shivers ran down the length of my body just thinking about the currents of desire that shot through me when I pressed myself up against Mitch’s hard body.
My heart was off-limits, but maybe, just maybe, Mitch might make an amusing holiday diversion after all. If we were going to be spending this much time together over the next few days, there might as well be some toe-curling benefits from it.
I winked at him, slowly biting my lower lip as my eyes grazed his body.
“Dez,” he warned, his voice in that low growl again, “I don’t play games, and I certainly don’t fuck my best friend’s little sister.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m nobody’s little sister around here, Mitch. I can take care of myself. Don’t you dare put me in that category. If I wanted to sleep with you, there’s not much that would stand in my way between you, me, and an earth-shattering orgasm.”
Mitch grinned, his cocky smirk raising his lips to one side. “Is that so, princess? Why don’t we make a little bet then, shall we? You seem to like games. Let’s see who can hold out the longest. Because I can promise you this—I’m not looking for a relationship, and I never dip in my friends’ pools for a one-night stand. So looks like the only thing standing in the way between you, me, and an earth-shattering orgasm is the orgasm that’s never going to happen. Not on my watch.”
Mitch picked up his brush, dipped it in the stain that was on the workbench, and proceeded to finish painting the baby’s new cradle. I’m not sure how long I stood there with my mouth open, but by the time he was done, my claws were dug in and I was determined. I would be sleeping with Mitch before Christmas.
AFTER THE FIRST coat of stain, we made our way back to the house, both of us famished as we foraged for food. As my stomach growled, I realized I never even got a bite of my burger at LettuceWrap. We pulled out leftovers and spread them out on the kitchen island. After our heated standoff in the barn, we’d both kept a respectable distance between us, almost afraid that one small touch would ignite something neither of us could stop.
I’d watched the passion flair to anger in Dez’s eyes after I shut her down. And I noticed as it slid easily to a fierce determination. I had to chuckle. I was well aware that if she wanted it badly enough and pursued me, I would cave in the blink of an eye. I knew the second she pressed her body up against mine and her breath brushed across my ear that I wanted to fuck her. There was no doubt about it. It was just a matter of whether or not I would actually give i
n—something I hadn’t done since Paris’s rejection. It wasn’t that she’d mattered, or that my heart had been broken—hell, I could hardly recall her name and wouldn’t have thought twice about her if Egan hadn’t mentioned it earlier.
The only thing holding me back from taking Dez right then and there in the barn was something I really hated to swallow. Something I hadn’t examined too closely since the attack—and that was fear. Things were different now. I was a man used to being in control in the bedroom. How could I do that now that I was no longer whole? It wasn’t something I wanted to fumble through for the first time with a woman like Dez. God, if she looked at me in the bedroom with the pity I’d seen in her eyes at the market, I would be crucified.
I picked through the leftovers, no longer hungry after images of fumbling around in bed with Dez seared my mind. I’d rather be alone than go through that humiliation—which is exactly why I preferred my solitude. Hell if my best-laid plans hadn’t crashed and burned all around me this week. I shook my head, grumbling under my breath.
“What’s got your panties all in a wad?” Dez asked, looking over her beer at me. I watched the way she lifted the bottle to her mouth, her lips parting to take a sip. God, I’d never wanted to be a bottle so badly in my life.
I grunted, frustrated by her question, and more than a little heated by the way her mouth curved over the smooth surface of the bottle’s head. Like everything she seemed to touch, Dez drank her beer with gusto, finishing it in a few swift swallows.
“Nothing. Just thinking about all we have to get done over the next few days. If I read your list right, we need to wrap some gifts and get them under the tree, put a second coat of stain on the bassinet, put a bow on it and get it under the tree too . . . then we need to run to the baby store tomorrow, make sure they have everything on their list since she hadn’t had her baby shower yet. Go to the market to grab some food—stock up for them and get some Christmas dinner fixings. Ask Rosalie to start calling the people on Celeste and Egan’s call tree to let them know the baby is coming. I need to get to Ti’s house sometime in there, too. Oh, and I have the youth center party tomorrow night. What else am I missing?”
“The photo shoot you’re doing for me. I think we have enough time to squeeze in a few shots before Christmas,” Dez said, smirking. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that in all of the hubbub today. You’ll be perfect for the book, and I’d love to help give back to the youth center.”
“Yeah, about that—” I started to say when Dez jumped, fumbling for her back pocket.
“Hang on, I’m vibrating,” she said, laughing, as she pulled her phone from her jeans. She scanned the screen and said, “It’s from Egan. Here, let me just read it. He said, ‘Celeste is doing great. Regular contractions, but dilating slow. We’re using her oils & I’m massaging her back like we learned in class. Hope 2b parents b4 tomorrow am. Celeste asked if u could pray for us & the baby. Will keep u posted.’ That’s all he wrote,” she said.
“Well, that sounds like good news, I guess,” I said, relieved for an update.
“Yeah,” Dez agreed, reaching out to take my hand. My head whipped up, meeting the softness of her gaze.
“What are you doing, Dez?” I asked quietly.
“Praying . . . what did you think I was doing? Using this as an opportunity to cop a feel?”
I glared at her, her ice-blue eyes piercing mine in return. “I don’t pray,” I said.
“What do you mean you don’t pray?” she scoffed. “It’s not a big deal. They asked for our prayers, so I’ll pray. You can just sit there and listen.”
“But I don’t get how you can just sit here and pray,” I said, baffled. “I mean, what—you’re just going to do this out loud? Right now?”
She didn’t bother with a reply. Instead she just squeezed my hand and closed her eyes. “Mother, Father, God, please be with Egan, Celeste, and their unborn baby in the hospital while we await their daughter’s arrival. Please be with the nurses, anesthesiologist, and doctors as they take good care of Celeste. Let them be well rested, quick witted, and compassionate. Help Celeste get through her labor with ease and comfort. Please be with her and Egan, and help them feel your presence so they can appreciate each and every beautiful moment of her delivery. It’s in your name I pray. A-ho, A-men, and thank you.”
She released my hand and stood to clear the dishes, putting away the clean ones and refilling the dishwasher with the containers we’d emptied. I watched her move about with ease, still uncertain how I felt about what just happened. I’d never been with anyone who just prayed out loud before. But I felt moved by her words, and I found myself wanting those same things for Celeste and Egan.
“Let’s run by the store and grab some wrapping paper, then we can stop by Ti’s house and your house before heading back here for an all-out wrapping session tonight.”
I looked at Dez as if she had two heads. “Whoa, easy does it. Who said anything about my house, or an all-night wrapping session?”
“I didn’t say all night, Mitch.” Her eyes turned smoky and she started toward me, as if she wanted to eat me alive. I swallowed when she ran a finger up my chest and to my jaw. “Unless you want it to be.” The feel of her soft hand against my scruffy chin sent shivers straight between my legs. I stood, knocking the stool over as I backed up. She grinned, obviously aware of her affect on me.
“Fine!” she said. “I’ll behave. But we still need to pick up a few days’ worth of supplies from your house. It’ll be way easier getting everything done and getting the house ready if you’re staying at Tranquility.”
She had a point there. Well, Egan had invited me for Christmas—I just hadn’t planned on accepting his offer. Guess all of my best-laid plans changed when their little angel decided to make an early appearance.
“I guess you’re right. Let’s get going. We still need to get Egan’s truck from the youth center, too,” I said, remembering the other thing Egan had asked us to do.
“Why don’t we do that tomorrow night? I want to get some pictures of you in action, and the party is a perfect place to do that. We can have waivers at the door for parents to sign, and I can drive Egan’s truck back home after the party.”
I nodded. That actually made sense. Not that I was agreeing to the whole photo shoot thing yet. But I had to admit, the idea of extra money for the youth center was appealing. And maybe even a little seed money to start building the infrastructure for the safety app. Which reminded me, I needed a name. Maybe I’d pick Dez’s brain later. She certainly seemed to have a creative imagination.
We drove in silence to the convenience store, and Dez bounded out ten minutes later with more wrapping paper than I’d ever used in my life. “Damn, girl. How many presents do you think we have to wrap?”
She looked at me as if I’d just asked the stupidest question in the world. “First of all, I didn’t know if you needed any, and I needed some myself. Second of all, all the presents from Egan to Celeste need to be in one color of wrapping paper, and all of Celeste’s presents to Egan need to be in a different color. Not to mention if they have any presents to different friends and such.”
The look on her face clearly said, “Duh!” but I was still confused about why we had more than ten patterns of wrapping paper, not to mention the bags of bows, string, and gift bags she was also carrying. And why did gifts need to be color-coordinated anyway? I was certain we could gift wrap all of Arden’s Glen with our small army of wrapping paper rolls.
“Okay, your house first or Ti’s?” she asked, buckling her seat belt as she glanced over at me. The light from the street lamp was shining in on her, and she looked almost angelic sitting there in my Jeep. I knew better based on the punches she’d packed with me already, but damn if she wasn’t a gorgeous woman who could be my undoing.
Despite my better judgment, I leaned toward her, looking her right in the eyes. They were sparkling blue, even in the dark interior of my Cherokee. I reached out my hand and brushed an e
rrant hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She was so damn hard on one hand, and yet there was a softer, more compassionate side I’d seen tonight, too. One who prayed for her friends and pitched in without complaint. I couldn’t figure her out, but I had to admit I was curious . . . for the first time in a long time, I actually wanted to try. I wanted to piece Dez together, see what made her tick.
I shook my head, knowing I needed to snap out of it.
“Don’t do that,” she said quietly.
“Don’t do what?” I growled back, angry for even going there in my mind.
“That. I saw the look in your eyes. You were letting your wall down for a minute, but then you snapped it right back up. Why do you do that?”
I squared my jaw, looking straight ahead. I started the Jeep, putting it in drive. “Why do you do it, Dez? You do it, too, you know. Hide behind a façade. I’ll drop mine when you drop yours. How about that?” I hated the way I sounded, but I couldn’t help it. Fear was creeping its ugly way back inside, and I wasn’t sure how to pump the brakes fast enough.
“I guess we’ll never really know each other then,” she said quietly. It pierced my fucking gut. I turned to look at her and caught her gazing out her window. She was looking far out into the distance as she bit the corner of her mouth.
“And why’s that, Dez? You talk about me putting up walls? I don’t know you either yet, but you sure seem to have the Great Wall of China around your heart. Fucking’s one thing—isn’t it? Seems like that’s something we’ve both learned to master. But I think it would take a freaking Christmas miracle to thaw the ice that’s around your heart.”
I slammed my fist against the steering wheel, pissed but not understanding why. She looked over at me, startled.
“Who the fuck hurt you, Dez?” I growled. Just once I wanted to see her drop her tough-girl act, see who she really was inside. I wanted to see more of the woman who took my hand and prayed, I realized. The woman I saw laughing with friends on the front porch of Tranquility in the afternoon sunlight. The woman who rested her head on my chest and introduced herself to me for a second time. That was the woman I wanted to know more of. Not the one behind the cold, hard gaze staring back at me.