In Mistletoe

by Tammy L. Bailey

  He bent to seize her mouth. Only the taste of her tongue forced him closer to the maddening end. When he thought to slow things down, she lifted to match the thrust of his hips, accepting all of him. Breathless, he felt her come around him, and his restraint snapped. He drove into her one last time, burying an intensely satisfied groan against her throat. His body shuddered with a violent and exhilarating release. For a few moments, he lay spent, unable to move.

  Glorious silence passed between them. He raised his head and stared down at her glittering eyes. She was the loveliest creature he’d ever seen, and he wished things could be different. Despite what he knew, he leaned down and kissed her damp forehead before discarding the condom and sliding on his side to gather her against him. It still amazed him how perfect she fit.

  He closed his eyes, memorizing the silkiness of her skin. Yes, he’d lain with plenty of women. However, he’d never known a more satisfying experience than the one he’d shared with Grace. She was his, and until the day she left, she’d remain his.

  “Foolish.”

  Ayden tensed, his heart ramming hard against his already beaten ribcage. Without thinking, he tightened his hold around Grace, but her willingness to answer the phone was somehow stronger than his willingness to keep her there. She fished for her jeans and swiped to accept the call.

  “Hello.”

  Ayden didn’t have to strain to hear the conversation.

  “What’s the matter with you, Grace? Why aren’t you home, and why do you make me wait to answer the phone every time I call?”

  Grace just sat there, blinking and shaking her head. He’d heard enough. He lifted the phone and brought it to his cheek. “Because she has better things to do than wait around for your sorry ass.”

  He ended the call and dropped the phone back onto the pile of clothes on the floor. When he turned to Grace, he wasn’t surprised to see her staring at him. If she asked why he did what he did, he wouldn’t have an answer.

  However, she astonished him by slipping out of the room and upstairs. They avoided each other for the next half hour, he unable to explain what he’d done, she unable to ask why he did it. Fortunately, Maggie sent him a text begging him to talk Grace into making one of her desserts for dinner. This, at least, gave him something to say without having to apologize for something he knew he’d do again given the chance.

  After a shower, he found her in the kitchen, staring out the bay window next to the kitchen nook. He loved the view from here, majestic and breathtaking with the snowcapped mountains and an endless swell of evergreens below.

  He believed she sensed his presence and spoke with her gaze still pulled to the view. “It truly is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He grasped at the olive branch, reaching out with both hands. “It’s why my father decided to build here. He wanted to give my mother the best of everything.”

  “Lucky woman.” Grace swiveled to face him.

  He exhaled, not wanting to add anything else to her comment. He chose, however, to change the subject. “Maggie begged me, literally, to ask if you’d make a dessert for the dinner tonight. I think she wants to show off your talents.”

  Grace’s eyes lowered, her perfect complexion a glorious shade of pink. He thought she was one of the most modest women he’d ever met. “Um, okay, but I’m not sure you have all the ingredients I’ll need.”

  “Whatever you don’t have, I can pick up at the supermarket.”

  She agreed, and they sifted through his cabinets, she pausing to survey the montage of items they placed on his island counter. “Well…” She tapped her chin. “It looks like you have enough here for me to make some apple streusel cream puffs.”

  “Perfect.”

  Forty-five minutes later, after an impromptu flour fight, Ayden allowed Grace to instruct him around the kitchen. As he sautéed the apples in melted butter, they played the rum cake game, without the rum cake. The phone call forgotten for now, they shared, teased, and laughed about their most embarrassing moments and their most humble ones. He believed he’d never known anyone like he knew Grace, realizing he wanted to know much more.

  “May I have one?” He attempted to snag the biggest piece off the corner plate.

  Grace slapped at his hand. “No, you’ll spoil your dinner,” she said, her mouth lifting into a wondrous grin.

  Before she pulled her hand back, he grasped her wrist and hauled her against him. His arms snaked around her small body, feeling every part he’d made love to not more than three hours ago. A surge of longing shot through him, and he tried to shake it off.

  “You have flour on your face.” He smiled down at her.

  Her dainty eyebrows rose, amused. “Where?”

  “Here.” He leaned down to kiss the dusty powder from her right cheek. “And here.” He skimmed his lips across her silky skin.

  “I think you missed a spot,” she whispered, pointing to the sensitive flesh below her earlobe.

  He nipped playfully, finding the erratic pulse at the base of her throat and drawing from her a soft moan. His hand lifted to cradle her head, his mouth trailing sensual kisses until his lips found hers. The sweet taste of her drove him mad, and he wanted nothing more than to carry her upstairs and reacquaint himself with her delicious body.

  He stepped back to maneuver her toward the stairway when he remembered the Christmas Tree Dinner and broke away in a rush of breath. “God, I can’t get enough of you.” He lifted his head to find her eyes glazed with the same want and desires. “I’m sorry about answering your phone. I would have been furious if a woman had done the same thing.”

  Grace sent him a slow smile. “We should get going,” she said, trying to hide her emotions from him as she retreated into the kitchen to retrieve the cream puffs.

  Inside the cab, he attempted to keep his mind focused on the road, but it continued to trail off, his thoughts consistently on the woman sitting beside him.

  For more years than he cared to count, he’d learned to switch his feelings on and off like a light switch. It was easy then. He felt little connection. Oh, the sex was great; he couldn’t lie. However, with Grace he wanted to discover more than what position she liked or what was her first broken bone, if she’d ever had one. Only, he didn’t know how much more time he had with her since he’d gone and placed an ultimatum over another man’s head.

  As he relived the moment of the call and the look of shock on Grace’s face, Maggie’s decorated door swung open with Collin standing there grinning. As his nephew clasped Ayden’s left leg, Maggie met them inside with a hurried hug and a bottle of stout. Over the threshold, he inhaled deep, the house smelling of pine needles and fresh-baked bread, comforting and familiar. To the left, a fire blazed in a stone hearth and a few of Maggie’s young co-workers gathered around with spiked eggnog in their hands. In the mingling crowd stood half his crew, all grinning at him like drunken teenagers.

  On the couch sat Jolene Watson beside Mrs. Hawthorne. Mr. Hawthorne had snagged the most comfortable chair next to the empty tree and was taking a short nap. Every year, the couple closed their store early just to be here for Maggie.

  “Oh, these look incredible, Grace. I can’t wait to have one.”

  “Me neither,” Ayden said to his sister before sending Grace a covert wink.

  Maggie grabbed the dessert before pointing a finger toward the basement. “Can you be a great big brother and go help Gregg with the decorations?”

  Ayden hesitated, not wanting to leave Grace by herself or alone with Kevin, who couldn’t stop staring at her. “Kevin is more than capable of helping Gregg,” he started to say when Maggie waved her hand to shush him.

  “I’m trying to fix him up with Belinda,” his sister said in a harsh whisper, discreetly pointing to a cute strawberry-blonde, wearing a tight festive Christmas sweater.

  “Of course you are,” Ayden mumbled, wanting nothing more than to get Grace alone.

  Within a second of asking Grace to follow him into the kitchen, a famil
iar slap between his shoulder blades stopped him. He turned to find Neil and all his ruby red grandeur.

  “Mighty glad you could make it,” he said with a tired twinkle in his eye. He then thrust a thumb over his right shoulder. “Sarah’s in the bedroom feeding the baby. She’ll be out soon.”

  Ayden, surprised to find him there and not still in the hospital, chuckled to himself. “They kicked you out, did they?”

  Neil sent him a wide, lopsided grin before lowering his gaze to Grace and elbowing her in the arm. “Still with ’im, eh?”

  “I…guess you could say that.”

  “Good for you.” Neil beamed. “It might take a woman like you to bring Ayden here to his knees, or knee.”

  She opened her mouth to say something when Neil nudged her in the shoulder and clucked at her.

  “Ah, don’t be modest, now.” He ambled away to join the crew on the other side. They all gave him high fives and slapped him on the back with congratulatory whoops.

  “He’s like that Energizer bunny, isn’t he?” Grace stared after him.

  Ayden laughed before turning her to face him. Although they’d had a fun time in the kitchen and a lustful moment after, there remained the subject of the phone call. As if reading his mind, she brought up a finger to warn him.

  “Yes, what you did was idiotic, don’t get me wrong, but it took you two seconds to say what I’ve been trying to tell Rick for the last few months. I should have been the one to do it, not you.”

  Somehow, she didn’t make him feel any better. Wanting more privacy, he grasped her hand and pulled her into the quaint kitchen. Every counter space was full of food, the sweet aromas making his mouth water.

  He settled onto a tall chair and pulled Grace between his legs so they were more at eye level. “Hear me out, Evans.” He lifted an index finger to give her fair warning. “I had no right to come in between…whatever it is you and this guy have. When you and I started this, I was relieved you had a boyfriend. Now—” He stopped to plow a frustrated hand through his thick hair. “God, I don’t know.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Grace raised her small hand to touch his cheek. “You’re a good man, Ayden, despite your temper and Neanderthal ways.” She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “You know, I used to practice what I’d say to Rick whenever he came crawling back to me. It was usually with a tube of cream cheese, though,” she said as an afterthought. “Only, when he did, I just stood there, nodding and welcoming him with open arms.”

  It stunned Ayden how someone so beautiful and amazing could stay with someone so undeserving. “Why?”

  She dropped her gaze, her eyebrows furrowing. “I’m not very good at saying no, or saying what I want out loud.” She closed her eyes and concentrated on her thoughts. “I guess I’ve been so scared that if I disrupted the flow of things, my world would break apart.”

  “Like Christmas morning?”

  She nodded and opened her eyes.

  Overwhelmed by her confession, he hauled her into his arms, wishing he had a good life to give her. For whatever reason, she seemed to understand the agreement between them, cherishing every moment without demanding another second from him.

  He kissed her sweet-smelling hair, memorizing what he liked so much about her: how she fit perfectly against him, how her soft breath caressed his neck, how her small hands lay across his chest. “How are you not furious with me?”

  She shook her head and then pulled away. “Oh, after the initial shock wore off, I was furious, but not at you. I don’t think Rick has ever called me this often in one week, and it’s all because he thinks he might lose me.”

  Ayden closed his eyes, unsure of what to say or even how to say it. His body went cold at the thought of her with another man. He felt trapped between his growing feelings for Grace and the pact he’d made with himself. In the past, he’d been able to get away without a moment’s thought.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Maggie poked her head through the swinging door. “I hate to disturb you two lovebirds, but dinner will be served soon, and Gregg still needs help with the ornament boxes. I sent Neil down after him, but I think he got lost.”

  “No, he probably found the extra mattress and is trying to sneak in a nap,” Ayden said, regretting the instant he pulled away from Grace’s side. “I’ll go help Gregg but keep Collin away from her.” He held up a straight index finger. “His magic shows have cost me more in ruined clothes than what you have saved in his college fund.”

  Downstairs, he met Neil, several strings of Christmas lights wrapped around his thin body and shimmering tinsel dangling from his red hair.

  “Were you thinking of becoming the tree this year?” Ayden held back a laugh while finally taking a swig of his now-warm beer.

  “Hilarious, boss. Just hilarious…” Neil mumbled as he peeled off the lighting display. “Gregg was helping me until Collin decided to spray him with disappearing blue ink.”

  “Hmm, let me guess, the ink didn’t disappear.”

  “Nope. Now, he just looks like he peed his pants. He went back upstairs to see if Maggie has a pair of Kyle’s jeans he can borrow.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Ayden helped Neil weed out the bad lights from the good lights, tying them all together before heading back to join Grace. They both had reached the second to the last step when Maggie’s raised and reprimanding voice sliced the jovial air.

  “Collin, no, she’s off limits.”

  Ayden sprinted into the dining room where Grace sat at a table, Collin standing beside her with milk pouring from her lap and dripping like fat raindrops onto the tiled floor below.

  The crowd gathered, Maggie standing with her hand over her mouth and a wide-awake child in her arms. Sensing Ayden close by, she twirled around and mouthed the words, “I’m so sorry.”

  Ayden canted his head and sent her a harrowing glance, believing Grace might find her voice and tell them to all go to hell. He certainly wouldn’t blame her.

  However, in the hush of the room, she smiled and patted Collin on the head. “With a little more practice, you will become a great magician.”

  With those words, Collin raised his head, his cherub face beaming. “Did you hear that, Mama? Aunt Grace thinks I can be a great magician.”

  Maggie nodded and handed Ciara to Ayden. “She’s right, but for now we’re going to show everyone how a magician cleans up his messes.”

  “Aww,” Collin said, his bottom lip protruding out past his top one, his shoulders hunched in a defeated pose.

  As Collin grabbed a towel and began mopping up the milk, Maggie motioned for Grace to follow her. Before they left, Ayden grasped her hand. He squeezed it, hoping she’d sense how much he admired her for what she had done.

  She paused, a tranquil smile touching her soft lips. “I remember blowing up a few Easy Bake ovens at that age. I wanted someone to tell me to keep trying.” She walked away from him then, a beautiful, sopping mess.

  ****

  Grace knew what would happen; she just didn’t have the heart to stop it. With Collin’s eyes like windmills, she’d waited as the milk saturated her pants and drenched her skin. Neither did she think beyond the moment of needing another set of clothes or everyone’s reaction. She only cared about the dreams of a young boy whose life revolved around the magic of imagination.

  Still, she sloshed behind Maggie, wondering what they all thought of her. Inside a twelve by ten room, not large enough for more than a full-sized bed, a dresser, and a few scattered toys, Grace waited for Ayden’s sister to pull a few things from her small closet.

  “Tomorrow’s laundry day, so I don’t have much for you to wear.”

  “I’m not picky,” Grace assured her.

  After rifling through a few outfits, Maggie found a pair of jeans, a belt, and a Seahawks jersey.

  Grace smiled, grateful.

  “The bathroom is across the hall, and there is a washcloth and towel under the sink. There is nothing less appe
aling than the smell of sour milk.”

  Grace accepted the items, wishing she didn’t feel so at home everywhere she went in Mistletoe. “Thank you.”

  Maggie ambled away until she thought of something she wanted to say. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know Ayden. He’s never been about substance when it comes to dating. Before I warn you not to hurt him, I might advise you to guard your own heart. Although he plays a great romantic, he’s about as cynical as they come.” She sent Grace a sympathetic smile and shut the door.

  Grace wondered why Maggie had chosen to warn her. After washing and dressing in Maggie’s clothes, Grace emerged from the bathroom to find Ayden standing next to the fireplace checking his messages.

  “There you are,” said a familiar voice behind her. Grace turned to find Sarah cradling her infant son. “Do you want to hold him?”

  “Well, I—”

  “He’s such a good little thing…hardly cries, if you can imagine that.” Sarah placed the baby in Grace’s arms.

  Mesmerized, she stared at the sleeping infant. His wisps of thin hair matched his father’s, and his skin was a perfect shade of pink. He smelled of lavender lotion and fabric softener, and Grace wasn’t sure if she wanted to give him back.

  “Come.” Sarah led Grace to a loveseat close to the naked Christmas tree. Grace brought in a deep breath, remembering how she and Ayden had found it and then all the intimate moments in between.

  “I think he likes you,” Sarah whispered.

  Grace yanked out of her reflection to blink at Sarah.

  “He usually senses he’s not with me and squirms.”

  Grace felt her cheeks warm, embarrassed and disappointed Sarah hadn’t been talking about Ayden, but her infant son. To divert her thoughts, Grace caressed Nate’s perfectly round cheek. His skin felt like the smoothest velvet. She held him tighter, the urge to lay a kiss on his forehead, overwhelming.

  Since spending so much time mothering women her age or older, she’d forgotten how much she wanted to have children, eight of them, to be exact. Of course, she’d let go of that dream, along with a dozen others. Rick, who was still a child himself, had yet to find his way.