by Melody Grace
* * *
By the time they arrived at the destination on the GPS, Mackenzie had given up trying to decipher Jake’s mood. He could feel free to spend the day scowling, but she didn’t have to let him spoil her fun too. They were spending the day in the happiest place on earth—or damn near close to it, anyway—and she was going to enjoy herself, down to the very last reindeer ornament.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Jake got out of the car and looked dubiously around. They were in front of a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, with the freeway overpass thundering nearby, and nothing but gray, run-down buildings all around.
“Freeman’s Costume and Supplies,” Mackenzie read the name off her order receipt. “Look, it says it on the door, right there.”
She knocked, but there was no answer, so she pushed the door open on her own. Immediately, she stepped inside a grotto that could have put Santa’s workshop to shame.
It was a massive warehouse, with aisles stretching all the way out of sight. Fake Christmas trees loomed thickly in the lobby, with displays of every decoration under the sun: from plastic cartoon characters and superheroes all the way through to delicate glass ornaments, glittered and spinning on their strings. Upbeat holiday music pumped through the speakers, boxes of toys were stacked sky-high on every shelf, and there was even fake snow falling in one corner, a constant stream from a line of machines all whirring away—on special discount, this week only.
“Elf costumes!” Mackenzie exclaimed in glee, spinning around. “We should get them for the Santa photo booth. Ooh, and look at those holiday lights! You can program them to spell out words!”
“Easy there,” Jake said, finally cracking a smile. “Debra’s already placed our order. We’re just here to pick it up.”
Mackenzie fixed him with a look. “Are you seriously telling me you want to grab our boxes and leave, without even looking around?”
“Well—”
She didn’t wait for an answer. Mackenzie grabbed a cart and took off down the first aisle. To hell with the budget. She wanted to see everything they had in stock. Like those inflatable snowmen. And red-and-white feather boas. Mackenzie pulled one down and wrapped it around her neck, adding a floppy Santa hat as she happily browsed. There was a whole aisle of stocking stuffers—small gifts like toy cars and marbles that would be perfect donations to the toy drive—and soon, her cart was full to the brim.
Jake caught up to her while she was picking out train sets. Mackenzie braced herself for more stony displeasure, until she caught sight of his fluffy Santa beard and red jacket. She burst out laughing.
“What do you think?” Jake grinned from behind the massive beard. “Do I get the gig?”
“You need to put on a few pounds,” Mackenzie teased, poking his stomach with a candy cane. “Santa doesn’t have a six-pack!”
“Sure he does!” Jake protested. “Hauling that sack of toys around the world? That’s a prime core workout, right there.”
“Sexy Santa . . .” Mackenzie mused. “You know, I’m sure there’s a club in Vegas that would kill for your routines. Do you have a dance?”
“Do I have a dance?” Jake scoffed. “Baby, I was born dancing.”
He began to thrust and gyrate with cheesy disco moves as Mariah Carey sang overhead.
“Stop!” Mackenzie cried. “My eyes!”
Jake kept dancing down the line, and she couldn’t help but laugh. They turned a corner, almost bumping into a pair of bored-looking clerks, but Jake didn’t skip a beat, he just slid to the side and kept on jiving.
Mackenzie shook her head, smiling. Jake turned to face her, moonwalking in time with her stride. “We’re going to need a bigger van,” he said, eying her cart. “What have you even got here, glitter pens?” he asked, picking the box out. “Since when does hot pink say holidays?”
“When you have a grade-school mural going up at the library,” Mackenzie told him. “You can never have too much glitter.”
“I agree.” Jake nodded solemnly. “That was our unofficial team motto, in case you didn’t know.”
She laughed, silently giving thanks that even Jake couldn’t resist the feel-good spirit of the holidays. “It looks like we’ve got everything,” she said, looking around.
“Did you find those snowflake ornaments you were looking for?” Jake asked.
Mackenzie sighed. “Nope. I emailed them some photos, but they didn’t recognize them. The town must have got them someplace else.”
“Then we better get you out of here before that cart gets any fuller.”
Mackenzie paused, looking around. “Unless you think the mayor will bump our budget so we can get a twenty-foot inflatable reindeer to sit in the town square?”
“It says a lot about Sweetbriar that my first answer isn’t no,” Jake laughed. “Come on. Let’s leave some sparkle for the rest of them.”
They headed for the check-out to get everything boxed up, and collect the order Debra had phoned in, too. Mackenzie was bracing herself for the final total, but when she emerged from the stock room after signing their delivery papers, she found that Jake had already taken care of the bill.
“Think of it as my donation to the good cause,” he insisted. “All this stuff is making sure everyone gets to enjoy the holidays, even kids who don’t have much at home.”
Mackenzie was touched. “Then I’m treating you to dinner,” she said as they stepped outside. “Your choice.”
“Does that include my Mighty Monster dog?” Jake asked with a grin.
“Absolutely!”
But by the time they’d loaded up the van, it wasn’t exactly food-truck weather. The gray snow clouds had turned a threatening shade of purple, hovering low on the horizon, with a few stray flakes already spiraling to earth. “We should probably head back to Sweetbriar if we want to beat the blizzard,” Jake said, warily checking the skies.
Mackenzie’s heart sank. She was in no hurry to get back home—not when it meant Jake might flip the switch again and turn as moody as the winter weather. “Come on,” she said lightly. “Since when has a little snow ever stopped you from getting fed?”
“True enough.” Jake flashed her a grin. “I’m game if you are.”
Mackenzie checked online for that old food truck, and found they’d upgraded to a permanent location. She directed Jake across the river and into the heart of Boston, navigating the narrow city streets until they found it crammed down a non-descript alleyway, sandwiched between a liquor store and an all-night launderette.
“Not exactly the five-star dining you’re used to,” she joked as they ducked into the neon-lit joint. Clearly, the legend of the foot-longs lived on, because it was packed and bustling with people escaping the cold, jostling for space at the narrow counter.
“Five stars are overrated,” Jake said, shrugging off his damp coat. “Give me a classic with all the toppings and a beer any day.”
“Amen.” Mackenzie spied a couple of people leaving, and zipped through the crowd to steal their places. She victoriously hopped up on a stool as Jake arrived behind her, laughing.
“I haven’t seen you move so fast since the market almost sold out of donuts.” He nudged her good-naturedly.
“Hey!” Mackenzie laughed, nudging right back. “Not all of us are crazy enough to run five miles for fun every morning.”
Jake made a face. “Don’t remind me. I’ve been slacking off these past weeks.”
“Only running three?” she teased, and he smiled again.
“Walking. Fast.”
“That’s more than me,” she said, reaching over to grab them a pair of laminated menus. “Dad got me one of those step-counters for Christmas a couple of years ago. He thought we could do it together, you know. Bonding.” Mackenzie grinned. “My count was so low, he called me up after the first week to check I turned the thing on.”
Jake laughed. “You don’t need to worry. You’re in great shape.”
His eyes drifted lower, skimming over her body, and even
in a sweater and jeans, Mackenzie felt every inch of his stare.
She checked the menu, her blood humming again. It didn’t matter that she had a couple of frat bros shoved up behind her, and the smell of French fries clinging in her hair. Jake was close enough to touch, right there beside her, stubble on his gorgeous jaw and his blue eyes crinkled happily at the edges. It made her pulse skip, too good to be true, all her old feelings roaring back to life in an instant.
Her heart caught. Why had she thought this was a good idea?
Because she still held out hope of breaking down that wall he’d put up and finding out once and for all if those blazing kisses could ignite something real. Maybe she was being a fool, but Mackenzie couldn’t forget how it felt in his arms—and how Jake had looked at her, like she was the only one he wanted.
She cleared her throat. “Looks good,” she said vaguely, even though the menu type was a blur to her.
“What looks good?” Jake asked.
Mackenzie bit her lip to keep from answering, You.
“Everything,” she said instead. “Shopping is hungry work.”
Jake chuckled. “I thought you hated it. You always whined whenever we had to get back-to-school supplies.”
“I didn’t whine!”
“Right,” Jake grinned. “You just complained in an annoying voice until it was done.”
Mackenzie stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed. “Oh, how you’ve grown.”
“You’re one to talk,” Mackenzie replied. “It was like pulling teeth trying to get you a tux for prom.”
She stopped, remembering that night so vividly—and how it ended in humiliation. She flushed and took a gulp of water, but thankfully Jake didn’t seem to notice. He flagged down the guy behind the counter to place their orders, and Mackenzie picked something at random, while Jake declared, “Foot-long with chili-cheese and all the trimmings,” with such a satisfied look on his face that she had to laugh.
“I guess that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about now,” he said, his smile dimming with the reminder of his injury. “Eating healthy, all those supplements and vitamins.”
“For now,” Mackenzie reminded him gently, and he nodded.
“For now.”
* * *
The food came fast—and kept coming. Jake insisted on making up for lost time by sampling all the newest flavor combinations, and the evening passed in a deep-fried blur as they sat elbow-to-elbow, filling in the blanks of the past ten years. By the time the restaurant staff started wiping down the counters and kicked them out, Mackenzie’s stomach—and heart—were full.
She hadn’t had so much fun in years.
Just a couple of hours in a cheap fast-food dive put every date she’d ever been on to shame. And watching Jake bundle back up in his coat and scarf, a smudge of mustard still on his chin, she hadn’t wanted a man more in her life.
Mackenzie swallowed hard. She turned away and pushed out of the door, trying to pull herself together again. It was snowing now, a steady fall of cold, icy flakes on the dark street. She looked up at the skies and stuck her tongue out, tasting the cool flakes in her time-honored tradition.
“Some things never change.”
She looked back to find Jake watching her, his hands shoved in his coat pockets and a curious smile on his face. “You always loved the snow.”
“And you always said you’d move someplace tropical,” she replied, putting her hands out to feel the flakes. “I guess we both got what we wanted in the end.”
“Not everything,” Jake said, his eyes never leaving hers. Mackenzie’s heart stuttered in her chest. He took a few steps closer, and it took everything she had not to move closer too, not to go to him, no matter what.
But she’d tried that already. Tried and failed, and all the romantic, softly falling snow in the world wouldn’t make a difference if Jake didn’t want her.
He took another step closer.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
The voice came from somewhere inside her, braver than she’d expected.
Jake stopped. “How am I looking at you?”
Mackenzie swallowed, fighting to keep her voice light. “Like you want to kiss me again.”
Jake glanced away, and then back at her with a boyish, charming smile. “Would that really be so bad?”
She tried to remember to breathe. “No,” Mackenzie replied, as if this kind of heart-stopping flirtation happened all the time. “It’s what comes after I don’t want to repeat. The part where you suddenly regret everything and bolt.”
“I don’t regret anything.”
Jake’s voice was rough, suddenly deep with emotion. Mackenzie inhaled in a rush.
“So why do you do it?” she whispered. He was too close now, close enough she could see the snowflakes resting on his eyelashes, and the look in his gaze, so intent and possessive it took her breath away. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”
“Because I never knew what was good for me.”
Jake’s expression changed, a glimpse of something raw slipping through his smile, and then he was kissing her, and Mackenzie stopped thinking at all.
14
Jake knew there was no turning back.
He’d been fighting to resist her all day, ever since that damn feather boa in the warehouse. She’d twirled down the aisles, so full of excitement, it had taken everything he had not to pull her closer and kiss here right there in amongst the fake plastic trees and confetti snow. But there on the dark street, with real flakes tumbling from the sky and catching in her curls, all his control melted clean away.
Why was he still fighting this? She was inevitable. Necessary. The realest thing he’d felt in so long. And she was standing right there in the snowfall, almost challenging him to make a choice.
She should have known he’d made that choice a month ago when he kissed her for the first time. Because now that he knew how it felt to hold her, he wasn’t going to stop until he had it all.
His lips found hers again, and he pulled her closer, losing himself in the exquisite rush. Her cheeks were chilled from the night air, but her mouth blazed hotly, pressing closer as the inferno sparked to life, and Jake fell headlong into the fire, and taste, and feel of her—his Mackenzie.
He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her as close as he could, hands sliding under her coat to feel the soft shape of her body as their mouths burned together, a slow dance of lips and tongues that only made him want more. God, what she did to him . . . This was more than just lust, thundering in his veins. This was something primal, a need that blotted out everything in the world but her. He kissed her harder, desperately, and who knew what he would have done if there hadn’t been a distant blare of horn cutting through the night.
He pulled back, feeling drugged on her sweetness. The horn blared again, and he realized they were blocking the narrow street. He tugged Mackenzie back out of the way, and she stumbled after him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright and she was so damn beautiful, he had to kiss her all over again, up against the wall like a couple of kids, not caring who was around to see.
Mackenzie hooked her arms around his neck and dragged him eagerly down to her, pressing kisses along his jaw and nipping lightly against his earlobe until Jake groaned and captured her mouth again. He slid his tongue deep, needing to taste every inch of her, make her feel this burning desire that was consuming him. She sighed against him, her body arched and pressing, and damn the layers of clothing that kept them apart. He wanted her naked and moaning. He needed her to come apart in his arms, for him.
It should only ever be him.
Mackenzie finally dragged her lips from his, panting for air. There was something bright in her eyes, and for a moment, the face that was so familiar looked like a stranger to him: full of depths he’d never realized, the parts of her he’d never even dreamed.
“What now?” she whispered, the desire on her face giving way to uncertainty.
The question loomed,
bigger than he wanted to deal with, but maybe Mackenzie felt the same, because she added, “We should hit the road, if we want to beat the snow.”
She paused and drew a breath. “Or . . .”
The word hung between them, full of possibilities that roared hard through his body.
“It’s late,” Jake managed to say. “We should stay. Here. In the city tonight.”
Mackenzie’s lips curled in a smile. “That seems like a good idea.” She nodded, still breathless. “The sensible thing to do.”
To hell with sensible. Jake was on a one-way road to reckless, and he was going to savor every damn moment. With another searing kiss, he pulled Mackenzie after him down the street, back to wherever the hell he’d parked the van. He wasn’t sure how they made it across the city, to a hotel by the park, he only knew that the moment the elevator doors closed behind them, they were up against the wall again: hard and hot, and too good to ever forget. Mackenzie let out a moan against his mouth, and Jake felt his whole body scream to life, demanding more until—
Ding!
The elevator doors opened, too early, to reveal an older couple standing in the hallway. They blinked, looking shocked to see Jake and Mackenzie still holding tight, their breath coming hard.
“Well I never . . .” the woman said, her lips pursing in disapproval. “Sorry,” Jake managed, reaching over to hit the button again. “This one’s occupied.”
The doors closed, and Mackenzie dissolved into laughter. “Oh God, did you see their faces?” She giggled. “Anyone would think we were naked!”
“Soon,” Jake growled, landing a kiss on the bare curve of her neck. Mackenzie shivered against him, and if the elevator hadn’t arrived at their floor, he would have given those strangers something to complain about for sure.
Mackenzie grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall. She somehow managed to find their room, swiping the keycard even as she kissed him again. They tumbled backwards into the room, the door slamming shut behind them.
“Multi-tasking.” Jake yanked her jacket off. “I’m impressed.”