A CHRISTMAS COLLECTION

by Wilton, Patrice

  “Mommy, you aren’t listening!” Tyler said loudly. “I asked you if Brad could sleep over?”

  “What?” Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “What did I miss while I was in la-la-land?”

  Brad laughed. “He wanted me to spend the night. Said he had a friend come over a month ago, but he missed his mommy and daddy, so they came to pick him up. He asked me if I’d miss mine too.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “It was highly unlikely.”

  She laughed. “Tyler, I love you dearly, but Brad is our real estate agent, and we’ve only know him a short while. We don’t invite people to spend the night.”

  “But you can have friends over too,” he insisted, looking from one face to the other.

  She felt her skin grow warm. She took Tyler by the hand. “How about if we go visit the restroom while Brad waits for the bill?”

  Brad raised an eyebrow. “We could always finish this discussion when I take you home.”

  She stood up, and helped Tyler out of his seat. “Not going to happen.”

  He answered with a sexy smile.

  As she and Tyler walked away, she spoke to her son. “Ty? I know you really like Brad, but we can’t have men spending the night. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, it’s not a thing that adults do. Fine for children to have sleepovers, but not for big people.”

  “Like drinking wine is fine for big people, but not for children?”

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  “Okay. But I wouldn’t mind if he did.”

  If she knew that Tyler would not get hurt by her actions, she wouldn’t mind it either. But no matter how much she might enjoy a tussle in the sack with that sexy man back at the table, she had to play safe and do the right thing by her son.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Once they were home, Cindy got Tyler into his pajamas, watched him brush his teeth, and then put him to bed. The bath could wait until morning. She read him a quick book, tucked him in, and gave him kisses on both cheeks.

  “Good night, little man.”

  “Night, Mommy. I had a really fun day.”

  She smiled. “I did too. We should go skating together more often.”

  “With Brad?” he asked sleepily, and rubbed his eyes.

  “Maybe. Or it could just be the two of us.”

  “I like the three of us better.”

  Well, she had to agree there. She liked it too—very much. And there was the problem. It would be far too easy to get her hopes up that this man was in their life for keeps. When she knew that it wasn’t true.

  Once the house was sold, she’d never see him again. He’d made it clear. He was not a marrying man, at least not in the near future. If she could handle a fling, he might be the right man for the job, but if she was looking for commitment she might do better on Match.com.

  She tossed Tyler another kiss and backed out of the room. Brad was waiting downstairs. He’d suggested that he might stay to “have a talk about the house.”

  She doubted that was the subject on his mind. It certainly wasn’t on hers. Unless it was to delay the sale in order to keep him around.

  He had set the fire and was standing with a glass of wine, his back to her. She watched him for a moment, stunned by how at home he looked, and how right it felt to have him here.

  For just another hour, or a few more days, she didn’t want to think beyond. Couldn’t she have this little time to just be herself? Not a mommy, not a widow, not a woman in need of a husband. Just a woman looking at a man that she wanted.

  In or out of bed. In or out of her heart.

  She wanted kisses, many, many kisses, and the feel of his hands on her body, and she’d be damned if she was going to feel guilty about that.

  “Brad?” She walked over to him, took the glass out of his hands, took a sip, and placed it down.

  He eyed her with curiosity.

  “Kiss me.”

  He glanced at her mouth. “Are you sure?”

  She tossed him a sultry look. “Kiss me, Santa. Please?”

  A man named Santa could do nothing less. He cupped her face and took her mouth slowly, tasting her lips. She purred, and moved into his arms, wanting to feel his body’s warmth.

  Her mouth opened under his, and she could smell the peppermint candy he’d taken at the restaurant, taste the wine, the deliciousness of his mouth, the hunger in him.

  After their conversation at dinner she understood his hunger. For success, for freedom, for her. He was a man looking to fill a void left by a selfish mother, and the mother in her wanted to do more than comfort.

  She kissed him with a deep longing, not only for herself, but for him. His touch lit a fire in her, and she pressed herself closer. Her hands moved to the back of his neck, holding his head just so, and she took his kisses deeper, offering everything in return.

  He was an amazing kisser, or it could be that she was starved for affection. No one had kissed her like this in the fifteen months following her husband’s death, and she needed it like a flower needs sun. Of course it wouldn’t go any further than kisses, but oh, how she would take what she could get.

  “Brad?”

  “Hmmm…” his hands roamed lower down her back, and cupped her bottom.

  “Can we take this over to the sofa?” They were standing in front of the fire, and she was burning up. Heat. Desire. An explosion waiting to happen.

  Without letting her go, he walked her backward, his thighs pressing against hers. She might have giggled, had she not found it so arousing. He toppled her onto the sofa, and fell on top. His mouth claimed hers again, and his tongue mated with hers, thrusting, long, deep strokes.

  Oh, this was definitely better—she could feel the full length of him, and it felt so damn good. She entwined her leg with his, and kissed him deeply, while her hands ran over his back and shoulders. She shifted her weight—eager to get closer—wanting to feel everything at once.

  The bulge in his pants interested her. He was fully aroused, and she could feel the length and size of him as he pushed between her thighs. She widened her legs just enough to give him leeway.

  Had anything ever felt this wonderful?

  His hands roamed over her body, and pulled at her top. His hand slipped underneath and found her breast. She arched into his hands, wanting, needing to feel his caress. He pushed the bra up and over, so that his hands could cup her fully.

  With his thumb and forefinger he tweaked her nipples that peaked and swelled. His mouth trailed down her neck, then broke for a moment. He shifted his body so he could suckle her breasts.

  After several minutes, she whispered his name and his head came up. She kissed him slowly, prolonging each one as if it might be her last. She breathed him in, loving the taste, the texture of his skin, the masculine scent.

  Her kisses softened, and her heart turned to mush. She stroked his back, ran her fingers through his hair, and gave a deep felt sigh.

  He straightened his back and pulled away just enough so that he could look at her. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she whispered and pulled him back down again. But his kisses now hurt more than they helped. She felt tears welling in her eyes, and a heaviness in her heart.

  She lay still for a moment, trying to ease the heart ache and recapture the magic, but her emotions were too great. They were rising like a tidal wave, and she felt a moment’s panic. “Stop. Please stop.”

  He moved off her at once. “Cindy…are you all right?” His fingers brushed the hair off her cheeks, and he gave her a gentle kiss.

  “Yes…no.” Tears flowed down her cheeks. “I don’t think I am.”

  He sat up now, and reached down to cradle her. “What is it? Is it me? Do you want me to go?”

  She clung to his chest and cried like a baby. “I don’t know. You’re the first man I’ve kissed. The first man I’ve wanted…since David died. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” a
big sob ripped out of her.

  He patted her hair and kissed the top of her head. “I understand. Don’t worry. It’s all right. You’re just grieving, that’s all.”

  “I can’t help it,” she gasped between sobs and shudders. “I loved him so much.”

  “I know you did. And you’ll find someone else to love one day again.” He shifted away from her. “I’m sorry if I pushed you before you were ready.”

  She tried to smile, but her mouth trembled and the tears wouldn’t stop. “I came on to you,” she whispered when she could. “I wanted you to kiss me. I liked them too much. I didn’t want you to stop. I, I…”

  “It’s fine. You’re a beautiful, sexy, incredible woman, and you shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting affection.” He tilted her face, and looked in her eyes. “You deserve it, Cindy. Don’t beat yourself up about this.”

  She straightened, pulled down her bra and her top, and ran a hand through her hair. He didn’t understand…but how could he?

  She hadn’t felt guilty. She had felt something else entirely. Emotions so deep and intense and electrifying, they’d overwhelmed her—because they had been so real, so similar to what she’d always felt for her husband. Love. It was the only word to describe that incredible, all consuming emotion.

  He stood up. “I’ll leave you now, unless you want me to stay?”

  How could she tell him that she wanted him to stay—forever?

  She didn’t want a fling or a temporary fill-in man. She wanted what this man could bring her. The kind of love she had known before.

  Problem was—he took his relationships lightly, if at all.

  She walked him to the door. “Let’s put this behind us if we can. It was a mistake, and hopefully won’t happen again.”

  He gave her a long look. “I don’t regret it, nor do I think it was a mistake. Not for a minute.” He reached out a hand and cupped her cheek. “When you are ready, call me.”

  She closed the door behind him and leaned against it. Call him? What was that supposed to mean? When she was lonely and wanted sex, he’d come over to service her?

  Didn’t he understand that she wanted the entire package? Love, marriage, a father for Tyler? Only a man that was willing to take on all that would work his way into her bed.

  She stormed upstairs, tossed her clothes on the floor and jumped into her cold bed, shivering under the covers. Yeah, right! That would be a frosty Friday, that she’d call him.

  She tossed one way, and then the other. She was worked up, and whose fault was it? Damn him, and damn her husband who’d died too young.

  She thumped her pillow. Hard. “This is your fault, David Harris. Your fault, you hear! You left me in the prime of my life. I’m too young not to have feelings. And I do. I’m so sorry, my love, but I do.”

  With that, she cried herself to sleep.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Brad drove away, ignoring the pain between his legs. Yes, he’d wanted to take advantage of the young widow, damn, he’d still do it in a heartbeat and not feel the least remorse. She was “the real deal.” Bright, interesting, gorgeous, sexy, a great mother and he could only imagine, a great wife.

  He had an idea after that make-out session, how great of a wife she’d be. That husband had been a lucky bastard, right up until he crossed paths with that loser drunk driver.

  Brad smacked his fist against the wheel, and cursed. Damn, that hurt. But not in comparison as to how Cindy must feel. She was probably crying her eyes out right now, thinking she’d betrayed her husband. It was obvious that she still loved him. Probably always would.

  Hard to compete with a perfect dead guy. How could one ever hope to replace the memories they’d made together?

  Idiot! Of all the women who’d drifted through his life and warmed his bed, why couldn’t he have felt half of what he did for this beautiful widow?

  He wasn’t much of a kid lover, but Tyler had wormed his way into his heart. He was a damn fine kid. Smart too. And he deserved a father, not just any father, but one who sincerely cared about him and would give him the good life he deserved.

  Well, unfortunately, it wasn’t likely going to be him. He didn’t expect Cindy would make any effort to call him. By the time she got over her husband, hell, Brad might be on to the next big thing. Whatever, or whoever that might be.

  He would call her in the morning and let her know that he’d decided to take her property off the market until the first of the year. She’d be happy about that, and it would be easier not to see her than to pretend he didn’t want to do her every which way he could.

  Hell. As if it were only that. Sex he could get anywhere, and sometimes did. But she touched him way beyond the physical. She made him want things he didn’t even know he wanted.

  Frickin’ great. Now he sounded like a moron. Well, love could make a fool out of any man. The club wasn’t exclusive.

  He parked in the garage below the apartment, took the elevator up to the fourth floor. Opened the door and called out a greeting, hoping once again that his brother had wandered home.

  Silence was his only companion.

  * * *

  “Hello?” Cindy was still groggy, not having slept much at all. She was working on her first cup of coffee when the phone rang.

  “Brad here.” He sounded abrupt, not his usual breezy, flirty self. Obviously, he regretted the make-out session as much as she did.

  “What’s up?” she asked, feigning indifference even though every pulse in her body had gone into racing mode by the sound of his voice.

  “Just wanted to let you know that I think it’s a good idea to take your place off the market until after the holidays. We’ll go full steam ahead first thing in the new year.”

  She didn’t answer right away. What he meant was, she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore. At least not for the next few weeks, and by then their emotions would have subsided, their encounter forgotten, and they’d be back in business.

  Logical. Smart—the right thing to do. So why did it hurt so damn much?

  “Cindy? I thought this was what you wanted.”

  “Of course! It is…but I thought you’d already spent money on pamphlets and advertising? I don’t want you to be out of pocket this time of year.”

  He chuckled. “I spent a few hundred. So what? It’s not like I have a lot of people to buy presents for.” He seemed to choke, then said, “The pamphlets will keep, and the advertising had been for the open house which didn’t bring in many actual buyers. Mostly looky-loos. People who have nothing better to do than check out open houses. Either they are curious neighbors, or people wanting to move sometime in the distant future. Or just getting ideas—redecorating, remodeling, that kind of thing.”

  “Seriously? They would come to my old house to look at that?”

  “Well, that’s usually for the newer models.” He cleared his throat again. “So you’re good with that? January first, I’ll list it again?”

  “Uh—yeah. That makes better sense. It’s a pain having to keep the house spotless all the time, and to have people traipsing through with Christmas approaching.”

  “Agreed. Okay. That’s what I called about.” She listened to a moment of silence. Was that it? All that he had to say?

  “Cindy?”

  “Yes?”

  “You okay? About last night, I mean.”

  “Sure. Why not? You aren’t the first man I’ve kissed, and you certainly won’t be the last.” Oh, why did she have to go and say that? Was she trying to punish him for something? The only thing he’d done was make her care.

  “Just checking. You seemed upset when I left.”

  “Tyler was upstairs and we were getting carried away. It just seemed wrong. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I enjoyed it. A lot.”

  Her heart skipped a beat and was off and running. “So did I, although we probably shouldn’t have.” She didn’t bother to say that his kisses and his hands had been magical and made her realize how desperately s
he needed to be loved. By her reactions last night, it was pretty obvious.

  “Yeah. Tyler.” He chuckled, but it sounded false. “He’s a great kid. And what a trooper. The way he handled himself on that ice, he made us proud.”

  “Us?” she asked, puzzled.

  “I meant you. You must have been proud.” He seemed at a loss for words. “So, is he getting a puppy for Christmas? You know that they are hard to come by this time of the year. The breeders probably won’t have any available. Want me to check?”

  “No. You don’t have to do that. I’ll go puppy hunting this week. Can’t be that difficult. And he won’t care what kind of pup he gets, as long as he has one.”

  “Remember that you’re going to have this dog for a very long time. Getting the right dog for you is very important. It’s not like they have a return policy.”

  “I know that,” she said, sounding snippy even to her own ears. “This isn’t my first dog, or last rodeo you know.”

  “Okay then. Just thought I could help.”

  “You’ve been enough help already,” she said, thinking how much she would miss him. He was only a recent addition in their life, and a temporary one at that. But Tyler would miss him too.

  “Have a wonderful Christmas,” he answered.

  “Thanks. We will.” She was about to hang up when she thought of the young mother whose water had broke. “How is that couple doing? The ones who liked my home?”

  “I’m not sure. Haven’t spoken to them in a few days. I’ll catch up with them soon.”

  “Goodbye, Brad. And Merry Christmas.”

  “Back at you.”

  Tyler came down the stairs. “Who were you talking to?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “Was that Santa? I thought you said something about a puppy.”

  She leaned down to pick him up, and gave him a big kiss. “Not the real Santa,” she said with a smile. “That was Brad. He said he’d talked to Santa and told him about the puppy you wanted. So—if you’re really good for the next few weeks, I bet you’ll have a pleasant surprise on Christmas morning.”