Holiday with You

by Claudia Burgoa

  Like they’d seen it when not one of them had . . . except Morgan.

  “I told you he claimed her,” Morgan says, rapping on the bar. “Three beers, whatever you have on tap.”

  “There’s no claim. We should stay away from her,” I argue.

  Colt glances at me. “When was the last time you got laid?”

  “Not the point.”

  “It is the point,” Morgan intervenes. “You have a kid. That doesn’t mean you have to take some chastity vow.”

  Glancing toward Audrey, I wonder if she could be my exception. The one visitor I can take and forget.

  The bartender brings out the beers, and without a word, Colton and Morgan walk toward Audrey’s table.

  “Are those seats taken?” Morgan sits in one before she answers.

  She glances at us and grins at Colton. “I knew you looked familiar. Are you a cousin or another brother?”

  “Brother,” I answer. “There are five of us.”

  “The other two are the cute ones,” Morgan adds. “If you stick around, you might meet them.”

  She sighs. “I might as well search for a job here. My boss just told me I can’t go home until we acquire the B&B.”

  I should tell her it’s not for sale. No matter how much money they offer, the owner is not going to sell the place. I can’t, though. The town has sworn to keep a lid on who owns it and where to find that person.

  I wonder how she tastes. I shouldn’t be thinking about her that way. Visualize her as a unicorn. I do, and I must have a concussion from last night’s crash because I want her. Even with her wearing that ridiculous outfit, I'm attracted to her.

  Our mission, just like the rest of the town, is to redirect her attention from the B&B toward any other subject.

  So that’s what we do.

  Morgan asks if she’s spoken to the insurance company. She hasn’t. Then Colt explains the muffin flavors offered by the bakery.

  I bring her two more glasses of red wine and a glass of water, but she only drinks half of one of the glasses. Around midnight, my brothers call it a night.

  “You could help me search for Ms. Grant,” she proposes.

  I laugh. “I can help you with a lot of things, but that is nearly impossible.”

  “Oh yeah, what else can you help me with, Colin Bradford?” she asks with a flirty tone. “Did I tell you my ex-boyfriend is getting married?”

  I’m not sure how one thing connects with the other, but I ask, “Are you okay with that?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t love him, but couldn’t he wait at least a year to find, ‘the one’?” She takes a sip of water. “She’s twenty-one. A child. I’m in my prime, about to turn thirty, and . . . he makes me feel old.”

  I reach out and brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful, funny, and intelligent. He’s an idiot for letting you go.”

  Her expression becomes animated, or it’s the wine going to her head. “Look at you, stroking my ego and making me feel like a model.”

  “A model?”

  “I’m sure you only sleep with women who are size zero and have flawless skin.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “You’d be wrong. If you’re trying to get me into bed, that line is not working.”

  She bursts into a huge laugh that makes everyone turn toward her. “You’re full of yourself. If I wanted to sleep with you, I’d just say”—she pauses, tilts her head, smiles, and flicks her big eyes a couple of times—“would you like to get into my bed?”

  “Direct. I like it,” I say.

  “Just kidding.” She composes herself. “I don’t think I’ve ever propositioned a man. Have you?”

  “A man?” I arch an eyebrow. “Definitely not.”

  She rolls her eyes and shakes with laughter.

  “Nothing against gay men, I just don’t find men attractive,” I explain further. “Now you? I find you . . . delectable.”

  “Well, now we’re using big words,” she says, grinning. “Does the big bad wolf want to eat the unicorn?”

  “Let me walk you back to your hotel,” I suggest, putting a stop to the conversation, not because I don’t want to kiss her, but because I refuse to do it in the bar where they can see us.

  She blushes and nods. We put on our jackets and walk to the B&B across the town square.

  When we are at the door, I pause. Obviously, Audrey has been hurt recently, and if I’m just her one-night stand to get her over being hurt, then I’ll take it. It’s been over two years since I’ve had sex, and even though I’ve had a few offers from travelers, until tonight, I haven’t been tempted to sleep with any Winter Valley tourists.

  Except, I want this woman.

  She’s sensual and quirky—two character traits that shouldn’t go together, yet they do.

  I decide to be straight. “I want to taste you. Right now.”

  Bending closer, I take her mouth with mine. We kiss slowly. The timid exploration makes my heart hammer. She tastes like wine, but sweeter. As the seconds pass, I’m filled with a lust I’ve never felt.

  The kiss becomes burning, searing, and desperate.

  I stop and gasp for air. “How drunk are you?”

  “A little tipsy from the wine,” she whispers against my lips. “Too drunk on lust to say no to what's happening between us.”

  “Are you sure you want more?” I brush my thumb across her cheek. “I don’t want this to be some mistake you’ll regret tomorrow. It’s just a night but—”

  “Shhh.” She places her mitten on my lips. “One night is enough.”

  We step inside the B&B. I grip her wrists, lift her arms, and push them against the wall as I seal my mouth over hers. The kiss is hungry, urgent, and passionate. She evokes emotions I don’t recall ever feeling, but if I have, it’s been too long to remember.

  I nuzzle down the side of her face, breathing her in as I kiss along the delicate skin of her throat.

  She rocks her body against mine. “Colin,” she moans. “We should go upstairs. Someone might see us.”

  Nobody’s in this place, but she’s right, the downstairs area has cameras. I rush us up the stairs and let her lead us into her room. Once we close the door, I cage her between my arms, stare into her eyes, then lower my gaze to her delicious lips.

  Bending, I press my mouth against hers and nip her bottom lip. My hands slide down to her waist. I want to do this all night. This arrangement seems unfair now that I’ve had a nibble of her. Just one night won’t be enough.

  Forget about it, concentrate on the now.

  What is wrong with me?

  I stop overthinking and start carefully taking off her clothes while placing kisses on her bare shoulders. I take my time sliding my fingers along her smooth skin. It’s going to take all night to run my lips along her soft curves.

  “Sit on the bed,” I order, shedding my jacket and pulling off my sweater.

  She’s only wearing a pair of cotton panties and a nude bra. Still, she looks gorgeous. Better than any model dressed in the most expensive lingerie. Tonight, this beautiful woman is mine. And tomorrow, she’ll become a memory—the best memory of the year.

  After taking off the rest of my clothes, I kneel in front of her, spreading her legs wide. I run my hands up her thighs. She shivers. I feather kisses where my fingers had touched her, and she pushes her hips forward.

  “We have all night,” I whisper as my thumb slides up and down her core.

  She gasps when my finger circles her clit. When she moans, I replace my fingers with my tongue and taste her. This makes me want her even more. I slide a finger inside her again and kiss her pussy. I finger her as I devour her delicious center.

  I fight the urge to do this fast. Even though I want to hear her scream my name, I want to savor her too.

  One night.

  There’s no do-over.

  This is all I get, so I have to enjoy it. Alternating long licks with flickers, I get harder and harder with her moans. I continue unti
l I feel the wave of her orgasm hitting her hard as her walls squeeze my fingers. I’m so turned on that I want to plunge inside her, but instead, when I hear my name come out of her beautiful mouth, I push myself up and kiss her.

  “I need you,” she says between shallow breaths.

  It takes a lot of strength to get up and search for a condom. If I could, I would just plunge inside her. Instead, I tear at the wrapper and sheath it over my length. Stepping between her legs, I hold my shaft at her entrance and push in.

  Buried all the way in for a moment, I enjoy her warmth, crushing my mouth on hers in a bruising kiss. I move my hips to pull out, then slam back inside her tight heat.

  She matches my rhythm. We’re driving fast into each other, and there’s no way to stop us. We’re about to set the entire room on fire.

  The chaos inside me wants to be released.

  The more I drive into her, the stronger it becomes. The grunts, moans, and desperate pleas to release the ache can’t silence the sound of our souls melting into each other.

  I groan her name against the crook of her neck and feel her fast pulse that matches mine. Both of us are breathless.

  Chapter Seven

  Audrey

  Thud.

  My eyes fly open to the sight of Colin standing on one foot while bent over beside the bed. So much for my dream where he was Santa, and I was on the naughty list.

  His cheeks turn bright red. “Sorry. I, um . . . I was trying not to wake you.” He holds up his boot, which I assume made the offending noise, and straightens.

  The room is a brilliant white from the snow outside. We hadn’t considered closing the curtains last night. Drapes were the last thing on my mind.

  And now . . . we’re at the awkward morning after.

  I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s barely six in the morning. Like when normal people are still in bed.

  Except Colin isn’t in my bed.

  He’s in the chair, concentrating on lacing his boot like it might explode if he ties it wrong.

  I pull the covers up to my chin. Something about being naked while he’s making a mad dash for the exit has me feeling even more exposed.

  Think of something clever to say, Audrey.

  My mind is a complete blank as he stands. I don’t want him to go.

  “There’s a continental breakfast downstairs.” Really? That’s the best I could come up with? He actually looks like he feels sorry for me, and I can’t have that. “The coffee is wretched.”

  “Thanks for the warning. For a second there, I thought you wanted me to join you.” He’s got this mischievous tease on those lips I now know intimately.

  “Absolutely not.” I wave my hand in dismissal and immediately put my arm back under the covers. “Besides, I don’t think it’s served for another couple of hours.”

  He has the decency to look embarrassed. “I have to go. But last night was . . .”

  Do not pull the blanket over your head. Do not pull the blanket—wait? He’s really leaving? And last night was what?

  I stare at him, willing him to finish the sentence while at the same time a part of me hopes he doesn’t.

  Colin grabs his jacket and rounds the bed. Stopping on my side, he pauses, then looks down at me with an expression I can’t decipher, and kisses my forehead.

  “Maybe this morning, the coffee will be better,” he says.

  “Highly unlikely,” I scoff to cover up my surprise at the forehead kiss. A man who’s desperate to leave wouldn’t bother with that, would he?

  And why do I care? It was one night. For both of us.

  I’ll be back in LA before I can say snow globe. Colin will be nothing more than a figment of my overactive imagination.

  “I’ll, uh . . . yeah.” He lifts his chin and disappears from my room as if he was never there.

  I roll over and finally do what I’ve wanted to since I woke up—pull the covers over my head—except I’m caged in a dome where his woodsy scent lingers. It’s all masculine and sexy and . . . so very unlike what I’m used to.

  Come to think of it, all the men I’ve met in Winter Valley seem good with their hands. Not the way Colin’s hands were on me—well, they might be—but like when something breaks, they don’t call a repairman to fix it.

  I had a one-night stand.

  Oh, God.

  I had a one-night stand.

  Have I lost my mind? Something must be in this frosty air because I’d never even considered it before. But when Colin flirted with me, I couldn’t think of anything but burrowing into him.

  I throw off the covers and shiver when the cold hits my skin.

  Today, I will find Anna Beth Grant. She’ll sell the B&B to Aurora. And then if I have to dog sled out of this town, I will. I’ll worry about the rental car later.

  Because if I hang around Winter Valley much longer, what other crazy things will I do?

  “Coffee’s waiting for you.”

  I grab a couple of muffins as I breeze past Colt. “I’ll pass on the dirty dishwater again.”

  “But Col—I mean, I picked up some from the bakery.”

  I skid to a stop and eye him suspiciously. “No joke?”

  He holds out a cup that definitely isn’t the white Styrofoam specialty from yesterday. Is that whipped cream on top? And shaved chocolate?

  “No joke,” he confirms with a lopsided grin.

  I swipe the coffee before he changes his mind and take a greedy sip. Ooh, it’s peppermint. “Now that is what coffee should taste like.”

  He looks at me smugly.

  “Did you give me that crap yesterday on purpose?” My voice raises an octave.

  “No.” He snorts. “You’ve got a little something . . .” He motions around his mouth.

  I glance down at my drink. The whipped cream!

  Instead of wiping it off, I take another sip. This time, I feel the fluffy stuff on the tip of my nose. “Which way is the library?”

  He straightens. “What do you want to do there?”

  “Get a book,” I say innocently.

  “What kind of book?”

  I frown. “I don’t know. I’ll have to browse.” Then I struggle to keep off the smile threatening. “But most likely a romance.”

  His face turns that same shade of red his brother’s did earlier this morning when Colin jetted like the building was on fire.

  He points out the front door. “Straight across the square.”

  I squint to see where he’s motioned, but the frosted glass obstructs my view.

  “Thanks.” I lift my cup. “And I promise if you serve this kind of coffee from now on, it’ll keep the bad reviews down.”

  I turn on my heel and hurry outside before he can respond.

  * * *

  The arctic air blasts me in the face. It’s colder than yesterday, and a fresh layer of snow coats everything. No wonder my room was so white. It’s blindingly beautiful.

  And Colt wasn’t lying.

  Straight in front of me is a town square. A real, charming area that I thought only existed on TV shows.

  I look both ways before I cross the street, and then laugh at myself. Of course no cars are coming. Only six people live in the whole town. Fine, maybe seven.

  A meandering path forks in two directions, encircling a gazebo in the center of the square. I wander toward the structure lit with strings of white Christmas lights and a nativity scene positioned beside it.

  How had I missed this?

  Upon closer inspection, the gazebo boasts expert craftsmanship with intricate carvings. The white paint and white lights should clash with the snow, but somehow, it works. Just enough of the green hedges hugging the gazebo are visible to pull the whole ensemble together.

  I need to find out who built this before I leave town. Something like this would be perfect for our destination properties. Wedding parties would go crazy for it.

  I stand at the bottom of the short stairs leading to the inside and look up with an unsettled
feeling.

  This would be perfect for some of our hotels, but it belongs here. Uniquely here.

  The vision of a wedding with music and laughter and dancing fills my mind, but I quickly stomp it out.

  I pull my coat tightly around me and keep moving. The path leads to a statue of a woman. Once I dust off a little of the plaque, I find she’s the town founder.

  This place is full of surprises.

  When I cross the street to the library, I barely check for cars, which somehow makes me feel more like a local. Not that I want to be a local.

  Get a grip, Audrey.

  The library is as quaint as the rest of the town. It looks like an old Victorian house, complete with a wide front porch and rocking chairs.

  The sign on the door says it's open.

  I stomp the snow off my boots and push inside. A bell jingles, and I pause. Isn’t the library supposed to be quiet?

  “Can I help you, dear?” The woman behind an antique desk swamped with papers is exactly what I’d picture the librarian to look like. Older with silver hair in a neat low bun, she’s wearing a corduroy dress and has glasses perched on the end of her nose.

  Everything in this town is picture-perfect.

  Except me and the way I came crashing into it.

  I clear my throat and offer her my best smile. “Do you have a genealogy section?” I might’ve told Colt a little fib, but it serves him right for that abysmal coffee yesterday.

  “Of course.” She stands with ease. “Follow me.”

  She moves through the library as if she could do it blindfolded past a sitting area with a fire crackling in the fireplace. Maybe if I find what I’m looking for quickly enough, I’ll be reading that romance book, after all.

  She crosses the threshold of what appears to have once been the study of the house. The walls are a rich mahogany paneling and a large polished wood table sits in the center, stacked with books. Bookshelves with volumes of thick leather-bound books surround the space.

  “Are you looking for anyone in particular?” She glances at me over her shoulder.

  Oh. There’s a fireplace in here too. I instantly feel the chill in my bones evaporate.