Ayden pushed forward, his elbows resting on the table, his long fingers clasped together in what looked like prayer. She glanced down to see how close he came to touching hers. They remained a hair out of reach. “Sarah texted me and made me promise to bring you, and I don’t break promises.”
When Grace sat there, not giving him an answer, he tried another tactic. “Besides, it will give us a chance to work on Maggie. Between all our misadventures, we haven’t had the opportunity to let her see us together and—”
Grace blinked at Ayden, knowing he stopped short of saying, in love on purpose. It was just as well. The things he said, or refused to say, no longer shocked her.
“Grace?”
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Still here,” she murmured.
“Good.” He tapped the table, stood, and left her alone, returning a half hour later dressed in a simple gray sweater over a white T-shirt and a pair of well-worn jeans. His dark-blond hair lay damp at the nape, and his face showed a close and careful shave.
“Are you ready to go?”
“If you promise I don’t have to look like the doughboy in the croissant commercials.”
“Fine, but you’re wearing the hat and wool coat.” She sent him a quick nod and followed him outside with what was left of the breakfast pastries she’d made. At the truck, she stopped for a moment, allowing flecks of snow to kiss her eyelashes. Like dandelion tails, they scattered with the wind, dancing to a silent wintry beat.
Lost in her environment, she lingered for a little while longer before settling inside the cab with Ayden beside her. From her peripheral vision, he appeared uncomfortable, turning his head toward her and back to the road at least a half dozen times.
“So,” he finally said. “Have you given much thought to how we go about convincing Maggie we’re…in love?”
If not for the seriousness of Ayden’s tone, Grace would have burst out laughing. Her…give advice on how to play the part of an infatuated lover?
“Um,” she said, making sure to keep her attention focused on the flying snow and the road ahead. “Maybe you can tell me the last time you found yourself, oh, I don’t know, in love? How did you react?”
She made the mistake of glancing in his direction, his piercing blue gaze unblinking and avoiding hers. She waited, even allowing her fingers to tap against her pants before he dignified her with an answer.
“Well, I didn’t get hives, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She drew back, offended. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”
His right eyebrow arched upward as skepticism spread across his handsome features. She let out a loud exhale and sank deeper into the leather seat. “I don’t think it would be too hard to make Maggie think we’re head over heels for one another. I mean, you just need to look at me all the time, and I just need to lean over and whisper in your ear every three minutes.”
“Is that how you do it with Rick? Or is this how it plays out in those books you read, Grace?”
Her mouth fell open. She’d been wrong. Things he said still had the ability to shock the hell out of her.
“God, you’re too much of a romantic, Grace, and that is how you will get your heart broken every time.”
Astonished where the conversation was headed, she continued to gawk at him, lifting her hands in defense. She fought to keep the words from tumbling out. She fought in vain. “At least I’m willing to get mine broken. You on the other hand, have yours hidden away behind an impenetrable padlock where you’ve thrown away the key.”
He raised his chin and scooted closer to the driver’s side window. The tension inside the cab grew with each breath. “I’m starting to wonder if this whole thing was a mistake.”
She didn’t want to agree with him, but she did. They didn’t say much more to each other until they entered the maternity ward at the county hospital. The first person they saw was Neil, a Santa cap still placed over his cowboy hat. Around his neck, he wore a pair of jingle bells that made a soothing little tinkle sound every time he moved.
“Damn, what happened to you two? I think I’ve seen happier faces in a dentist’s office.” He paused before his eyes grew large. “You brought dessert. God bless you.”
He took the tray Grace offered as she braced for Ayden to confess their entire façade. When the only thing he did was grunt, she dropped her hand from around her waist, her fingers accidently brushing against his. She expected him to pull away, but she almost gasped when his palm pressed against her ungloved hand and his fingers interlaced hers in a locking grip.
The connection made her stomach flitter in anxious happiness. She knew, even if what they were doing was a mistake, she wanted to stop thinking and enjoy every moment of it.
“Lordy these are good…damn good. Honey, you gotta try these buns Ayden made,” Neil yelled into the room.
“No, Neil, Grace made them.”
The man chomped down on another bite and tried to verbalize his surprise. “Gwace…made dese?” Neil said, his mouth full and outlined in chocolate.
Grace nodded.
“You know, you should be a baker or something.”
“Oh, for the love of God,” Grace heard Ayden mumble.
“Anyway, Sarah is almost done feeding Nate. I’ll come get you when you can see him.”
The proud father jingled away, leaving Grace alone with Ayden.
When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on her hand, forcing her back to his side. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I’m not used to being called out on things.” He lifted his thumb to caress her cheek. She thought he might try and kiss her again, but he stepped away and led her to a set of uncomfortable-looking chairs along the main hallway. It wasn’t a big hospital, but she supposed it served the residents of Mistletoe well.
“Grace,” Ayden said before Neil poked his head around and enthusiastically announced, “She’s done.”
With Neil shoving them both toward Sarah’s room, Ayden never finished his thought, and Grace never seized the opportunity to ask him.
“Ayden, you brought her,” Sarah said, her face glowing and her eyes bright with newfound motherhood. Grace’s nervousness escalated with each quiet footstep forward. Neil, minus the bells, led them to a small couch nearest the window.
In wondrous fascination, Grace followed Neil as he transferred the sleeping bundle into Ayden’s arms.
“He’s so tiny.” Grace caressed the baby’s hand, his tiny fingers opening and squeezing her pinky in a firm grip.
“Smile.”
Grace glanced up to find Neil with his phone. “Say, ‘mistletoe’.”
Grace and Ayden sliced a glance toward each other before repeating the word in forced unison. Neil clicked his phone and then checked the picture, sending Ayden an exaggerated wink.
“So, who do you think he looks like, me or Sarah?” Neil tucked his phone into his pocket.
Grace left the question up to Ayden to answer.
“Well, being as cute as he is, he definitely favors Sarah’s side of the family.”
“Thank you, Ayden. You are a complete gentleman.” Sarah beamed.
“Rake is more like it.” Neil snickered.
“Neil Cashel O’Shannon,” Sarah scolded her husband.
Neil stopped and straightened like a prairie dog in his seat, his large-eyed gaze landed straight on Grace. She understood Ayden’s reputation never escaped one’s judgment, in one way or another.
“Don’t pay any attention to my husband. He’s been so worried, poor thing hasn’t slept in two days. I think he’s been reading all the dirty parts in my romance novels to stay awake.”
Grace glanced up at Sarah, happy to hear that not everyone placed Ayden McCabe on an infatuated pedestal. For the next half hour, Grace sat in the room, enjoying the light banter between friend and co-worker. Sarah even let her hold Nate for a few minutes while she gobbled down two and a half pieces of pastry.
“You’ll have to make this for the Chr
istmas Eve Eve dance,” Sarah volunteered.
Grace struggled with what to say when Ayden suddenly stood and extended his hand toward Neil. “Well, you have a beautiful son.” Then he ambled over and laid a tender kiss on Sarah’s forehead. “Keep that boy out of trouble,” he whispered, receiving a wide and enamored grin.
They all waved their goodbyes with Ayden grasping Grace’s hand and gently leading her into the open corridor. The glistening floor, polished to a buffed shine, reminded her of the place she worked. Funny how she hadn’t thought much of Neece’s. She even waited for the eagerness to return home to cause an anxious fluttering. When, after a few dispassionate moments nothing happened, she knew she was in trouble.
In disquieting reflection, she strolled beside Ayden and away from the bustling nurses, nervous fathers, and wailing babies. They’d not traveled too far before he stopped her just at the elevator, his stiff stance yielding an uncomfortable admission. “I’m sorry about Neil. He blurts out things without thinking.”
Grace didn’t know why Ayden was apologizing for a reputation he seemed proud to have built. “He didn’t say anything I haven’t already thought myself.”
“Oh?” Ayden drew back, the casual bluntness of her reply surprising both of them.
She allowed him to mull over her comment, seeing no harm in him reflecting on how she saw him. “It’s not a bad thing,” she assured him. “Through the centuries, men have aspired to become rakes, and women have aspired to tame them.”
The corner of his mouth twitched and his cerulean eyes flashed a challenging decree. “And how many rakes have you tamed, Grace?”
In one searing blaze, he’d managed to open a tender wound, one that left her vulnerable and frightened. She answered the only way she knew how, with blind sincerity. “Despite what you may think of me, I do not aspire to break the will of any man. As I’ve painfully discovered, I cannot force anyone to fall in love with me, whether by taming or otherwise.” She ambled away, entering the elevator on the tenth floor, Ayden’s footsteps close behind her. She was still facing forward when she heard the elevator close and felt his hand clamp down on her wrist, whipping her back around to face him.
In one crashing heartbeat, he wrapped an arm around her back, the vigorous motion locking her against him. She tried to move, but his free hand cupped the back of her head, pulling their mouths within a sliver of touching.
He smelled of scented soap and crisp air, a thrilling combination that drugged her thoughts and sensibilities. He didn’t kiss her, his mouth hovering and taunting her to lean a hair closer.
“Give it your best shot, Grace.” His voice was a hot, husky whisper against her cheek. Did he really mean to open this door, to expose them both to proving, one way or the other, impassioned philosophies? With her heart battering hard in her chest, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his.
He emitted a low growl and shoved her against the hard steely wall of the elevator. As it jolted into motion, he took her mouth with unbridled possession, draining her of any thought or energy. Wild and unchaste, his lips pressed hard against hers, forcing them to open for him. She delighted in the sweet taste of his kiss and the urgent command of his mouth.
She tried to keep up, to take what he offered and give what she thought he wanted. Then the elevator beeped, and he separated from her, pausing to plow a hand through this thick dark-blond hair. Rattled and trembling, she braced her hand on one of the elevator handrails waiting for the door to open. When they did, an elderly couple stepped inside.
For three painstaking minutes, patients and hospital staff entered and left with her sneaking quick glances in Ayden’s direction. She wanted to know his thoughts and if they were as convoluted as hers. Of course, she’d often daydreamed of an elevator kiss. What girl didn’t? Nothing, however, prepared her for the emotional and physical collision between her mind and heart.
Finally, the elevator jolted to a stop on the first floor, and Ayden secured her hand, guiding her into the corridor and toward the sliding glass doors. Outside, the snow crunched under their feet, and the wind snapped at their cheeks. She wondered if she should not have said what she did. What right did she have in spewing her ideas of love? Not that she didn’t feel it, she’d just chosen to stick with a guy who had been as reliable as every other man in her life.
Chapter Sixteen
Ayden couldn’t remember the last time he wanted a woman this much. She made him lose all sense of reason the longer he spent with her and the longer he stood fighting for control.
In the elevator, he’d kept his emotions in check until the satiny lushness of her tongue brushed across his lips. Control surrendered to obsession. She’d matched his fervor, exploring and teasing until, so sweetly, she’d opened further for him. At that moment, he knew he couldn’t rest until he’d sampled every inch of her, his creeds be damned. For now, however, he needed to cool his blood, for Grace’s sake…and his.
“So,” he said, once they were settled inside the cab. “Are you ready to find out who might be behind your sister’s disappearance?”
Grace sat quiet and contemplative, and he knew she thought about what he’d said and did in the elevator. Despite what he craved from her, he only hoped she didn’t sit there planning a spring wedding, although, he did see her more as a fall bride, one with more reflection than spontaneity.
“Yes,” she answered after some hesitation.
His heart hammered from both their kiss and her reply. Had he actually sat there mulling over the idea of marrying her? Damn, he cursed to himself, unused to losing track of his concrete beliefs on falling in love and matrimony promises so easily.
In a conscious effort to stay focused, he parked a few spaces from the store, the place hopping with customers. He saw Jolene who sent him a cheerful nod from the potpourri section of the store. Unfamiliar to most of them, Grace scooted closer to his side. The shop attracted many of Mistletoe’s females, and he recognized all of them, one-third of which he’d tied himself to in one intimate way or another.
Whether there existed a history or not, at least six flickering glances remained fixed on him and Grace from the door to the counter. One of them, he cared not to see, not since she’d shattered Grace’s bedroom window a few nights before.
To his rescue, Wilhelmina called from behind the cash register, a small paper bag clutched in her wrinkled hands. “I do hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said with profound sincerity. “Now did you happen to sample my rum cake?”
Her dark deep-set eyes shifted from him to Grace, at last landing on the most affected victim of the spiked dessert.
“Sample is a good word,” he said, without chuckling.
Wilhelmina gushed and giggled like a teenager.
“Oh, and I wanted to make you something to thank you for all your help.” Grace handed the older woman a plate of her dessert and backed away.
“Oh, my. These look delicious. I heard somewhere you were a baker.”
Grace smile. “I work in a bakery, but I’d love to have my own place…someday.”
As they continued to talk, several feet away, Ayden leaned back and enjoyed the view. That was until El slunk up beside him.
“She’s pretty.”
Ayden suppressed an expletive, trying everything in his power to avoid the woman’s sultry voice inside his right ear. He didn’t move as she sauntered around to his front and grinned at him like an innocent child just about to raid a candy store.
“Yes,” he agreed and lifted his head a little higher to avoid her searching lips. Her hands, long and hunting, dug inside his unzipped coat.
His patience exhausted, he bent to retrieve her fingers when her mouth clamped hard over his, her body twisting against him like a wild eel.
“Eloise Victoria Riley, unhand him this instant!”
El jerked backward, enabling Ayden a clear view of Wilhelmina and Grace. The latter stood wide-eyed and astonished but unmoving and silent. Although his and Grace’s relations
hip was anything but real, he felt dirty and undeserving of her.
“I was leaving anyway.” El sniffed and then spun around to direct her last thoughts straight at Grace. She was a harmless woman unless provoked. He loathed placing Grace in the middle of his mistakes and stepped forward to protect her when she sent him a subtle headshake.
With a few curious customers watching, El eased before Grace and lifted her chin at a haughty angle. “I actually feel sorry for you, you know. One day you’ll be where I’m standing, pining away, while he’s gone and left you behind.”
Grace sent El a sympathetic smile. “You’re very beautiful. I don’t know what happened between you and Ayden, but I do know at least a dozen guys in San Francisco who would be tripping over themselves to ask you out. There’s no reason why you should be left anywhere.”
Ayden’s jaw dropped. He’d expected a catfight, and so did most of everyone else in the store. After a few astonished moments, El leaned down to whisper something in Grace’s ear.
She then turned and walked in his direction, pausing to give him a parting harrumph. When he lifted his gaze to Grace, she stood calm and poised. Not that he wanted her to fly off in irrational jealousy at what she’d seen, but some sort of annoyed reaction at seeing El kiss him might have fed his ego a little.
Instead, she sauntered forward, smirked, and lifted the bag from his hands. “I’m ready if you are.” She turned her attention to Wilhelmina, who might have expected the same thing he did. “Thank you very much for everything.”
Every single gaze followed them, with Grace keeping a safe distance ahead as they walked under the mistletoe, three seconds apart, and out the door. He refrained from saying a word until they had gathered in the cab and settled into the leather seats. He tried to look at her, but she had her face forward and her gaze straight ahead. With the temperature of the cab still comfortable, he thought it as good a place as any to talk. In one smooth movement, he grasped the lever and shoved the seat back to give himself plenty of legroom.
In Mistletoe Page 14