Winter's Kiss (In Shady Grove 7)

by Beth Andrews

  She seemed to soften. “I can understand that. But...it doesn’t matter. I’m talking to Bryce and I’m not sure where things are going with him.”

  “That’s fine,” Luke said quickly because at least she was listening to him and not yelling at him. “But, I mean...you guys aren’t exclusive yet, are you?” She shook her head slowly. “And he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d get mad if you were friends with another guy so you and I could still...hang out. I’ve really missed that, Gracie.”

  “Okay,” she said after a pause. “I guess that wouldn’t hurt anything.”

  His chest loosened. “Great. Maybe...maybe we could do something after Christmas. We could take my nieces sledding or something. They keep talking about you.” Rainie and Lila had fallen in love with Gracie when she’d babysat with him that night last summer and still bugged him about when they’d see her again.

  She smiled hesitantly. “Sure. That would be fun.”

  “Great,” he said, realizing he sounded like a parrot repeating that word, but he was too damn relieved and happy to care. “We can figure it out at work on Monday.”

  But she wasn’t looking at him. Worse, she was no longer smiling. He glanced over his shoulder to see what the problem was, but only saw Drew walking toward them.

  “Brandon is looking for you,” Drew told Luke. “He wants to know if you can give him a ride home.” Drew faced Gracie as if turning toward a firing squad. “Hi, Gracie.”

  “Hello, Andrew.” If possible her tone was even cooler for Drew than it had been for him. “I’ll talk to you later,” she told Luke, then walked away.

  Drew shifted. “What did she mean, she’d talk to you later?”

  “Just what she said. We’re friends.” Luke didn’t like the tone Drew had used. “Why?”

  “Just wondering.”

  But then something Gracie had said the other night floated through Luke’s mind.

  Did Drew tell you...

  “You and Gracie are neighbors,” Luke began. “Do you ever...hang out?”

  Drew looked at him sharply. “Why would you ask that? What did she say?”

  “Nothing—”

  “Did she say I was embarrassed by her?” Drew continued as if Luke hadn’t spoken. “Because that’s not true. And I didn’t use her, either. She was the one who invited me to her bedroom, who asked me if I wanted to kiss her. She let me sneak into her house late at night so if she tried to tell you I used her or tricked her, she’s lying.”

  But Luke couldn’t answer. He couldn’t even breathe. Though he wasn’t sure what Drew was talking about, he had a pretty good suspicion and it made him go cold all over. “You and... Gracie?”

  “Look,” Drew said, lowering his voice. “I could have handled it better. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. And no matter what she said, I did like her. A lot. I didn’t lie to her. Not really. And I sure as hell didn’t trick her into sleeping with me.”

  “You slept with her?” Luke asked, feeling his world implode. First Kennedy and now Gracie. His anger built like a fire, threatened to burn him alive. “You slept with Gracie?” he repeated louder. Loud enough for a few people lingering in the hall to glance over at him.

  “Chill,” Drew said, frowning. “She didn’t tell you?”

  No, she hadn’t told him. Wasn’t withholding the truth the same as lying? It had to be. “When?” he asked, fighting to get the word out past the lump in his throat.

  “When what?”

  “When did you and Gracie hook up?”

  “Last fall. I swear, we haven’t been together since then, so if you want to try and get with her, you have my blessing.”

  His blessing? Furious, Luke’s hands fisted. “I don’t need your permission.”

  Drew held up his hands. “Right. Right. I didn’t mean it that way...hey, where are you going?”

  Luke walked away. He stormed into the gym, waited for his eyes to adjust to the flashing lights, ignored the thumping bass as he pushed past people, jostling them as he went. He found Gracie dancing with her group of friends and Bryce and a couple of his buddies. He broke through and took a hold of Gracie’s arm, swung her to face him.

  “Hey, Sapko,” Bryce said, frowning, “what’s the problem?”

  Luke ignored him. He kept his eyes on Gracie, on her face. He thought she was so open. So honest. What a joke. “You screwed Drew?”

  She went white and a few of her friends close enough to hear his ugly, harsh accusation gasped. Bryce came over to stand beside her.

  “Did you?” Luke asked, giving her arm a little shake.

  Her lower lip trembled but when she spoke, it was with great dignity. “That is none of your business.”

  “You did. Jesus.” He felt as if the world tipped, as if he’d lost his footing.

  “Let go of her, Sapko,” Bryce said in a threatening tone. “Now.”

  Luke eyed up the soccer player. They were pretty evenly matched and Luke could sure use a way to get rid of some of his building anger, his fury. But fighting Bryce wouldn’t solve anything.

  And he told himself Gracie wasn’t worth it.

  A crowd had gathered, though the DJ continued playing music. It was only a matter of time before one of the teachers or parents chaperoning the dance came over to see what was happening.

  He made a show of peeling his fingers off of Gracie’s arm and stepping back. Though he spoke to Bryce, he kept his eyes on hers. “She’s all yours, man.”

  Luke walked away, straight out the side doors and into the cold, dark night.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  DAPHNE KNEW SOMETHING had changed. Maybe it was the romance of the wedding, or the magic of the holidays, but when she and Oakes walked up the stairs to their rooms at Bradford House after all the festivities, anticipation filled the air. Oakes hadn’t just danced with her, he’d stayed with her the rest of the evening. Had touched her—her elbow, the small of her back. He’d taken her hand to lead her onto the dance floor again and again and again.

  Yes, something had changed. She just wished she knew if it was something that had pushed him into seeing what they could be to each other. Or something that was pushing him away from her.

  As if in silent agreement, they stopped between the doors to their rooms. She cleared her throat, her fingers clenched around her clutch. She held her breath, hoping, praying he’d say something, that he’d make the first move. If he didn’t, she knew there was no hope for them.

  She needed a Christmas miracle and she needed it now.

  “Thank you,” she said, keeping her voice soft, not only because it was so late and she was conscious of the other guests, but because the moment also seemed to call for it, for a reverent, quiet tone. “For taking me to the wedding. For everything, really. You came to my rescue, agreed to take me to your brother’s wedding just because I asked. I’ll never forget how you were there for me, always have been, really. No matter what you decide to do next, I’ll never forget that, Oakes.”

  He frowned. Looked so handsome in his dark suit, his hair slightly mussed and damp from the falling snow. “What do you mean, what I decide to do next?”

  She looked at him, had never found it so difficult to meet his eyes, to speak the truth. “Whether you decide to walk away from me and go into your own room. Pretend there’s nothing drawing us together. Or...” she continued, stepping closer and laying her hand lightly on his chest. She felt the erratic beat of his heart. “You could decide to come into my room and spend the night with me, Oakes. You could decide to be with me, make love to me. That’s what I want you to do.”

  He stared at her, his gaze intense, his jaw tight. “If I do, everything will change.”

  “Change is good.”

  He shook his head. “No. Change means people leaving. Marriages falling ap
art and parents getting divorced. It means the end of the way things are. It means chaos and uncertainty.”

  Her heart went out to him. He’d been entitled and blessed, certainly, but he’d also had upheaval in his life, the kind that had taken its toll. Had left him afraid to step outside of his comfort zone. “Oakes, the world won’t come to an end if we’re together,” she promised. “The only thing that will change is how we view each other. Which isn’t a bad thing at all. We can finally stop pretending. Stop fighting and finally have what we both want.”

  He looked tempted, so tempted, and she held her breath, waiting, hoping. And then her dreams came true when he kissed her, long and hot and deep, the kind of kiss that wasn’t just sweet, that didn’t say he was holding back. So she poured herself into the kiss as well, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on, pressing against him.

  He leaned back, his gaze intense and heated, and then he smiled, a warm, sexy grin that curled her toes and warmed her in all the places in between. He lifted her hand to his mouth, placed a warm kiss on her palm. Then he turned and, still holding her hand, unlocked the door to his room and tugged her inside. She’d barely crossed the threshold when he pressed her back against the door and kissed her again, his hands gliding up her sides before delving into her hair.

  She arched into him, into his kiss, his touch, but it wasn’t enough. She shoved him back far enough that she could slide out of her coat, then pushed his coat from his shoulders. While he shrugged out of it, still kissing her, she yanked at his shirt, pulled it from the waistband of his pants and skimmed her hands over the hard ridges of his stomach.

  His muscles quivered under her touch. He worked her top from her shoulders, kissing her collarbone, then making a trail down her throat and across her shoulder. Their breathing grew rapid, their hands more adventurous as they sought the contact of skin on skin. The slow, languid kisses turned heated and carnal, their hands now hurried, their touches frantic.

  Oakes tugged up the hem of her skirt, his fingers hot, his hands insistent as they skimmed over her thighs, seeking her heat. He slid her panties down then laid the flat of his hand against her core. She moaned and lifted her hips.

  He growled. Oakes Bartasavich actually growled, and whirled her around, pressing her chest against the door. She sought purchase but there was nothing to hold on to, just the cold, hard wood. Reaching around her, he cupped her breast through her top with one hand, his thumb rubbing her nipple. His other hand went back to her center. She pressed her rear against him as he worked his magic, the sensations building inside of her. As much as she wanted to see him, as much as she wanted to be face-to-face with him, she craved his touch too badly to stop him now.

  His breath was warm on her skin as he placed openmouthed kisses along the side of her neck. “Come for me, Daphne,” he whispered, his husky, erotic tone combined with his clever fingers causing her stomach to clench pleasantly. “I want you to come for me.”

  She couldn’t resist. Her orgasm hit her hard, taking her breath as she rode wave after wave of pleasure. When she came down, he slowly withdrew his hand and set it on her waist, kept kissing her neck, her cheek. She smiled and turned, saw the doubt in his gaze, the worry.

  “None of that,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his unsmiling mouth. “It’s too late to turn back now, Oakes. Tonight, you’re mine. And I’m yours.”

  * * *

  HER WORDS BLEW through him. For one night, just one, he could put his own needs first. He could have what he wanted, what he craved more than anything. He could have Daphne. With no regrets. No recriminations.

  As long as he told himself it was just this once, as long as he knew that this was the only time he could be with her, they could finish what they’d started.

  And that was good, as he wasn’t strong enough to refuse her any longer, though his mind urged him to. His want was too strong. His need ran too deep. This was his one and only chance.

  And by God, he was going to take it.

  “No turning back,” he told her, his voice husky. “Not tonight.”

  “Thank God,” she murmured, then threw herself into his arms and as soon as their mouths touched, the heat between them flared. Desperation clawed at him. Fear that if he didn’t have her now, something would happen to take her away from him. An inner sense that this was his only opportunity. His kiss was hot and hungry, his hands clumsy as they ran over her curves, reached around to tug the zipper down the back of her top.

  Memories of the other night flowed through him. Had it only been two nights ago? Two nights ago that they’d shared their first disastrous kiss? But he wouldn’t think of that because it made him wonder if he’d been an idiot to wait this long and he wasn’t going to let any thoughts of the past or the future interfere with this moment. Tonight was all about the present. Period.

  He pulled back and gently, slowly, slid her shirt down, the stretchy material giving way to expose her shoulders and upper arms. He took his time, loving how each slow inch revealed more of her smooth, golden skin, her breasts plump over a silky black strapless bra. The slight ridges of her rib cage and the indentation of her waist. Her chest rose and fell heavily and she didn’t try to cover herself, but stood before him, watching his reaction.

  Kneeling, he dropped the top then unhooked her skirt, loosening it enough to draw the material past her hips, revealing a silky scrap of underwear the same color as her bra. Lower he went, smoothing the material down her thighs and knees until he let it pool around her ankles.

  “Hold on to me,” he ordered and then lifted her right foot. Her hands went to his shoulders, her fingers digging in as he helped her step out of the skirt. He trailed his fingers over her ankle, up the backs of her legs as he stood, his fingers brushing against the sexy slope of her belly, then up to graze the sides of her breasts.

  He stepped back, raked his gaze from the top of her mussed hair to the tips of her high heels then back up again. “You’re so beautiful,” he told her, unable to believe his good fortune. She was here. She was his.

  At least for tonight.

  Keeping his eyes on her, he reached around, unhooked her bra and let it drop away, the sight of her in only her panties and those high heels almost his undoing. He yanked her to him, loving the feel of her curves, her warm, soft skin, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be closer, to feel her against him, skin-to-skin.

  She must have had the same thought because she started yanking at his tie, almost choking him in the process. He saved himself by nudging her hands aside and loosening the knot in the silk. While he slid it over his head, she was already working on the buttons of his shirt. He shucked his pants aside as she shoved his shirt from his shoulders, her hands racing over his chest and across his abdomen.

  He kissed her and tugged her toward the bed but she pulled back. “Wait,” she gasped.

  He immediately let go but knew if she’d changed her mind, he might not recover. “Is something wrong?” Was he going too fast? Being too rough?

  She walked back to where she’d left her coat, and the sight of her strutting away in nothing but her shoes and underwear was a sight he would never complain about. “No, nothing’s wrong, Oakes,” she assured him, much as she had that night when all this had first started, with her showing up on his porch, assuring him she was fine. “But we’re going to need these.”

  It was then he realized she’d dug through her clutch and pulled out not one, not two, but three condoms.

  He blinked. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or scared to death. I’ll go with flattered since I don’t want my ego—or anything else—deflating before we’ve used even one of those.”

  She laughed and he swore he’d never forget the sight of her standing there, the brilliant moon illuminating the room, her laughter washing over him. “Let’s just say I like to be prepared. We’ll just have to see what...comes up.
..the rest of the night.”

  He grinned and pulled her toward him, their need having calmed down enough that they fell onto the bed together, a tangle of arms and legs. They kissed, slow and deep, explored each other’s bodies with their hands and mouths. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of her, but touching her, tasting her, only made his need for her grow.

  He took a condom from her, opened it and rolled it on, then rolled on top of her, holding his weight on his elbows as he looked down into her face. He watched her eyes as he slid inside of her wet heat. The feeling of completion, of being home, almost took his breath. Gazes locked, fingers entwined, he began to move, slowly at first, wanting to make it last as long as possible, but she was so tight. So responsive to him, her hips moving to meet his every thrust, her eyes dark with want, and she made these husky little moans in the back of her throat that had him moving faster. And faster. Taking them both higher and higher until she shattered beneath him, convulsed around him, pushing him over the edge as well.

  Breathing hard, his body still shaking from the force of his release, he collapsed on top of her. She held him close, her breathing ragged in his ear, her hands smoothing back his hair as if she couldn’t get enough of him. And he realized that this hadn’t started that night on his porch when she’d arrived drunk. He actually wasn’t sure when their friendship had turned into something more, but he knew one thing—he was going to take full advantage of tonight.

  Because tomorrow, everything between them would change.

  * * *

  “WHAT SCROOGE PUT coal in your stocking?” Luke’s older brother, Scott, asked him Christmas morning.

  Luke frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

  Scott sat down next to him on the couch, watched his toddler son rip wrapping paper into confetti under the lit Christmas tree. Scott, his wife Dee Dee, their two kids, four-year-old Ruth and one-and-a-half-year-old Jacob, had invited Luke and his parents over for Christmas morning to watch the kids open their presents.