Christmas in Lucky Harbor

by Jill Shalvis

  With his first real smile and a soft laugh, he pulled her in and pressed his mouth to her temple. He ran a hand down her hair, tugging very lightly on the green tips, the small smile still curving his mouth, the one that tended to melt her bones with alarming alacrity.

  Her sisters appeared on either side of her, green hair and all. Jax offered them coffees, which were gratefully received.

  “You need a clone,” Chloe told him and sipped. “To share with the rest of the female population. What are we doing today?”

  Maddie knew what she wanted to do. Jax.

  But clearly his superhero powers of ESP were broken. “Painting,” he said to Chloe. “An entire day of painting.”

  Damn.

  They painted.

  And painted.

  Well, Tara and Maddie painted. Chloe worked on her skin care line.

  Jax worked outside and away from them on the wood trim. By the time Tara and Maddie quit at sunset, Maddie’s arms felt like overcooked noodles.

  Chloe, restless as usual, rode off into the sunset on her Vespa.

  “Stay out of trouble,” Tara called after her. Shaking her head, she sighed. “She’s not going to stay out of trouble.” She turned to Maddie. “I’m going in for my dinner shift. Come over when you’re hungry, and I’ll feed you.”

  “Will do.” Maddie stood in the middle of the living room of the inn and took stock as if she were looking at the place for the first time. The floors were looking good, and without the rooster and cow wallpaper, the rooms looked bigger and more airy. Even so, there was still something almost antiquated about the place, which was okay, because it fit like an old glove. It had character. And charm. It felt like a place that she could get comfortable in and stay awhile.

  Too bad that wasn’t going to be the case. For her entire life, “home” had been transient, a place to hang her coat, to rest her head, but not a place to stop for any length of time. Now she’d finally found a true home, one that embraced her, comforted her, and gave her peace.

  But just like everything else in her life, it hadn’t worked out. She’d been trying to keep that thought at bay, but the Denial Train was leaving the station.

  And soon, all too soon, Maddie was going to have to leave, too.

  Chapter 22

  “Catch and release when you’re fishing,

  and catch and release when you’re dating.”

  PHOEBE TRAEGER

  Jax spent the next few days installing the bathroom vanities and finishing the floors. The painting was done, as well. Tara had wielded a paintbrush with predictable meticulousness. Maddie had painted as she did everything else in her life. She’d started out tentative but had ended up giving her entire heart over to the process.

  She made him smile.

  And ache. He had no idea what would happen—if and when she’d be leaving, if she’d ever let herself fully trust him—but he knew what he wanted to happen.

  He wanted her to stay.

  As darkness fell on Christmas Eve, he stood outside the inn in the blustery, frigid air, cleaning up his tools, watching as first Tara sped off in Maddie’s car, and then Chloe on her Vespa.

  He turned to take in the single light shining into the dull, foggy dusk from the marina building. Setting down his tool belt, he headed that way and found Maddie at her desk. She was lit by the soft glow of the lamp, the rest of the marina in shadow. She had her back to him in her chair, feet braced up on the wall, computer in her lap, fingers clicking away.

  Helpless against the pull of her, he stepped in a little closer. She’d showered and changed from the day’s work and wore a pair of bright red sweats, snug enough to show her curves, yet covering her from head to toe. The hood was edged in white and had two white tassels hanging down, dangling to her breasts like two arrows. Along one leg were white letters spelling out “Mrs. Claus.”

  Her hair was piled messily on top of her head, held there with her knitting needles, and she was frowning, looking tousled and annoyed and beautiful. “Hey,” he said.

  She didn’t budge, and he realized she wore earphones, the cord trailing to her pocket, a tinny sound giving away her iPod. Smiling, he pulled out his phone and IM’d her.

  (JCBuilder): Busy?

  (ILoveKnitting): Trying to relax.

  (JCBuilder): I could help with that.

  (ILoveKnitting): Yes, you could. By telling me something about you. Your favorite childhood memory, your most embarrassing moment, what makes you tick—something.

  (JCBuilder): Eating ice cream on the Ferris wheel, plowing my first truck into Lucille’s mailbox, and living for the here and now. Now you.

  (ILoveKnitting): Making s’mores on a movie campfire set with my dad, every single second of that first time we met, and knowing that there’s always tomorrow to get it right.

  (JCBuilder): It?

  (ILoveKnitting): Life. You got a recipe for life that I can follow?

  (JCBuilder): Feeling brave?

  She laughed when she read that one, and Jax felt a weight fall off his shoulders.

  Tugging out her earphones, she leaned back even deeper in her chair. “If you only knew…” she murmured.

  “What?” he asked her, stepping closer. “If I only knew what?”

  She gasped and whipped her head around, losing her balance in the process and crashing to the floor.

  “Christ.” He came around the desk and crouched down at her side. “You okay?”

  “I’ve got to stop doing that.” Still in her chair, she was flat on her back on the ground, clutching her laptop, appearing annoyed until she got a good look at him and the crooked green scarf around his neck. “Aw. You’re wearing it.”

  “Yeah.” He’d been taking shit about it from Ford and Sawyer, too. He took her computer and set it on the desk, then reached for her, holding her down when she tried to scramble to her feet. “Wait. Just lie there a minute. What hurts?”

  “Besides my stupid pride? My butt.”

  Still on his knees, he lifted her out of the chair and pulled her over to him so that she was straddling his thighs in those Mrs. Santa sweats. “Cute,” he said, sliding his hands to said butt. “Better?”

  “Mmm. The sweats are Chloe’s. It’s laundry day. All my clothes are in the washer.”

  “Don’t tease me with the washer, Maddie.”

  She bit her lower lip between her teeth, and he laughed softly. “You know, I’ve never been jealous of a spin cycle before.”

  She grimaced in embarrassment. “Stop.”

  “You have no idea what the thought of you on that thing does to me.” He was hard already. And since his hands were on her ass, cupping her, he realized something else.

  She wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  With a groan, he slid his hands up to her breasts. No bra, either.

  Oh, Christ, he was a goner. “Maddie, where’s your underwear?”

  She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if imparting a state secret. “In the washer.”

  “You realize that puts you on the naughty list.” He slid a finger into her drawstring resting just below her belly button and very slowly began to tug.

  “What are you doing?”

  Unwrapping you…“Checking for injuries.”

  “Jax—”

  “That’s Dr. Jax to you.”

  Her eyes lit with humor, but she put her hands over his, stopping their progress. “I feel different with you. Good different. I just wanted you to know.” She removed her hands from his. “You can carry on now. Doctor.”

  He kissed her, then pulled back to look into her eyes. “I feel different, too.”

  “You do?” she breathed, her entire body softening for him. “What else are you feeling?”

  Hot. Hungry. Devastatingly seduced by the look in her eyes, the one that said she was falling for him. “Like I want you. All of you. Wrapped around me. Lost in me.” Having untied her bottoms, he reached for the zipper of her sweatshirt.

  She held her breath as he slid it d
own, revealing a strip of her creamy skin from chin to belly button, and more than a hint of the curves of her breasts.

  “I’m going to be cold,” she whispered.

  “I’ll keep you warm.” Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth between her warm, full breasts. Gently scraping his lips over one plumped curve, he worked his way to her nipple, which had already tightened for him.

  “I don’t think I got hurt there.” But her fingers slid into his hair to hold him in place.

  “You can never be too sure.” Slowly, he drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked.

  Her head fell back, and she let out an aroused murmur that went straight through him. “But I fell on my butt.”

  “You’re right. You need some serious TLC.” He slid his hands into her loosened sweatpants, tracing his fingers down the center of her sweet bare ass. Lingering… “Here?”

  She gasped and shifted away. “No!”

  With a smile, he slid his fingers lower. Wet. God, so wet.

  Her arms clenched around his neck, and her breath was nothing more than little pants of hot air against his skin as he stroked her. “How about here?” he asked, slowly rubbing the pad of his callused finger over her, groaning when she spread her legs a little farther apart for him, giving him room to work. “Are you injured here?”

  “N—no.” She clutched at him, panting for breath in his ear. “Jax—Jax, please—”

  He loved the sweet begging, but it wasn’t necessary. Because he was going to “please.” He was going to please the both of them.

  She rocked into him, her hands running over his chest, his abs, trying to get inside his clothes, trying to get inside him. He felt the same. He couldn’t get close enough. She was warm and curvy and whispering his name, and that worked for him, big-time. He reached down to tug off her shoes so he could get her out of the Santa sweats when red and blue lights flashed from outside, slashing into the office window.

  Chapter 23

  “Sisters are the true friends who ask how

  you are, and then wait to hear the answer.”

  PHOEBE TRAEGER

  Maddie straightened and stared at Jax, before zipping herself back up. She got to the window just as Sawyer opened the back door of his sheriff’s car.

  Chloe huffed out and stormed toward the cottage.

  “Oh, boy,” Maddie said, feeling Jax at her back.

  “Sawyer’s pissed,” he said.

  “How can you tell? He’s wearing a blank expression.”

  “That’s how you tell. He gives nothing away when he’s in that kind of mood.”

  Maddie’s gut tightened. “What do you think she did this time?”

  “This time?”

  Maddie hurried outside. “Chloe?” she called out.

  Both Sawyer and Chloe turned around.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Chloe said.

  Sawyer snorted.

  Chloe tossed up her hands, whirled, and started walking again.

  “You’re welcome for the ride,” Sawyer said to her back.

  Chloe flipped him the bird and slammed the cottage door.

  “What happened?” Maddie asked Sawyer.

  “She talked Lance into taking her hang gliding by moonlight. The two of them climbed Horn Crest and flung themselves off the cliff, landing on Beaut Point with about six inches to spare before they would have plunged to their deaths.”

  At 6,700 feet, Horn Crest was the highest peak in the area. Beaut Point was the plateau overlooking Lucky Harbor, and it was about the size of a football field, sitting three hundred feet above where the Pacific Ocean smashed into a valley of rocks below. Picturing what Chloe had done, Maddie felt sick. “Is she all right?”

  “Are you kidding me? She’s like a cat with nine lives. I don’t know how many she has left, though.” Sawyer shook his head in disgust. “Lance was under the influence. I’m hauling his ass in until he sobers up. Chloe wasn’t drinking, so technically, I can’t hold her. And they didn’t actually break any law since it’s actually not illegal to be stupid, but they were trespassing, and I should have ticketed her.” He blew out a breath. “At this point, it’s a waste of paper.”

  He rubbed his hands over his face and turned to Maddie. “She was lucky tonight, damn lucky. I’d ask you to try to talk some sense into her, but I’m not sure that’s even possible.”

  A few minutes later, after having said good night to Jax and Sawyer, Maddie walked through the cottage to the small bedroom, where she found Chloe sprawled facedown and spread-eagle across the bed, already out cold.

  The Wild One…

  Maddie had always secretly yearned to be the Wild One. Anything would have been better than the Mouse. Except that no longer really applied, did it? A mouse wouldn’t have given this place a shot. A mouse wouldn’t be having spectacular sex with a man who had a singular ability to obliterate her heart. A mouse wouldn’t be fighting to get to know her sisters, and herself.

  Maybe what was happening with the inn was inevitable, and maybe she couldn’t save it. And maybe what she had with Jax was truly just a little snapshot in time and couldn’t be saved either.

  But she could save her relationship with her sisters. And she could save herself from going back to the way she’d been before.

  She could be whoever she wanted. Knowing it, she felt herself smiling and pulled out her phone. “Still close by?” she asked when Jax picked up.

  Jax watched Maddie peer out the Jeep’s windshield at the unlit, unmoving Ferris wheel. “It’s closed,” she said with disappointment.

  “It’s Christmas Eve.” He had the Jeep running, the heater on full blast. The interior of the vehicle was dark except for the glowing light from the instrument panel, but he had no trouble seeing the life in her eyes or the smile on her face.

  He knew if asked, she’d say he put that smile there. She’d been coming to life a little more every day, but the truth was that he’d had nothing to do with it. She’d taken on her world, and it was sexy as hell to watch.

  “I guess I’ll have to find another adventure tonight,” she said and turned to him. Her hair fell around her face in soft curls, just past her shoulders. He knew what it smelled like, knew how it felt brushing over his bare skin. He knew how she tasted and how to make her moan his name. He knew she was slow to open her heart, but that once she did, she was fiercely loyal to those she cared about. He knew what foods she craved, that she had a low tolerance for alcohol and a penchant for drinking it anyway. He knew that she pretended to be annoyed by Tara’s steely resolve but really admired it, just as he knew she also admired Chloe’s spirit. He knew that after a life in Los Angeles, she thought Lucky Harbor would be heaven. He knew she was looking for more…

  And that she hoped she’d found it.

  She knew things about him, too, more than he’d revealed to a woman in a long time. Unable to help himself, he ran a finger along her temple, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Name it,” he said. “Tell me what you want.”

  “But we don’t have a condom.”

  He couldn’t help it, he laughed.

  She grinned. “I’m sorry. I think it’s the fresh air here. And the pounding surf. And maybe also, it’s you.”

  “No,” he told her quietly. “It’s all you. Come on.” He turned off the Jeep, pulled two heavy coats from the back seat, and handed her one. When she was bundled up, they walked the pier.

  They passed Eat Me, and Maddie’s stomach growled. “I could use some of Tara’s Badass Brownies right about now.”

  “Badass?” he asked.

  “As in they’re so badass that you turn badass just by smelling them.”

  He laughed and pulled her in close for the sheer pleasure of touching her. “Do you want to go in? I’ll buy you a Badass Brownie.”

  “No, Tara’s in there. She’ll be annoying.”

  They hadn’t gotten five steps past the café when they heard a loud voice.

  “Maddie Moore, I see you.”

  Maddi
e jerked around. “What—”

  Jax pointed to the loudspeaker on the corner of the building, just above the large picture window on the café, where several faces were pressed up against the glass, watching them.

  “Step away from the good-looking man,” came the disembodied voice.

  Tara.

  Maddie groaned but surprised him by tightening her grip on his hand instead of dropping it. “What does she think she’s doing?”

  “Amusing her customers.” Jax’s gaze locked in on their audience in the window, some shoving for better position, a few others waving.

  “Madeline Annie Traeger, this is your conscience speaking,” the loudspeaker said. “We’re watching you. And—Hey, are those my Gucci boots?”

  Maddie tipped her face up to the stars as if looking for divine intervention. “Some people have normal families,” she said. “They get together once a month or so and have dinner. My family? We have pancake batter food fights, steal each other’s footwear, dye our hair green, and yell at each other over loudspeakers in public.”

  “Keep it moving, sugar. No loitering on the pier.”

  “Everyone loiters on the pier!” Maddie yelled at the speaker.

  “And especially no standing beneath the mistletoe for any reason at all.”

  Both Maddie and Jax looked up at the mistletoe someone had hung on the building’s eaves. “What does it say about me that now I want to stand beneath it?” Maddie asked him.

  “That we think alike?” Jax stepped closer, bent his head, and—

  “Hold it!” the voice of Maddie’s “conscience” called out.

  Maddie sighed. “Jax?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I need a chocolate shake.”

  He didn’t point out the fact that it was thirty degrees or that her breath was crystallizing in front of her face. They headed toward the ice cream shop.