by Lori Wilde
Kelsey: I don’t know. Tasha is surprising me.
Filomena: I don’t trust her.
Kelsey resisted texting back You don’t trust anyone. Instead, she wrote: But I do.
Filomena sent a scowling emoji: Text me the minute U get to the destination and let me know where U R staying.
Kelsey: Will do. Bye. Love U.
She waited a minute for a reply, but nothing came. What did she expect? Filomena was really good at withholding affection when she was angry. Sighing, Kelsey tossed the phone onto the nightstand and fell backward onto the bed.
Tasha patted her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Easy for you to say. Your mother isn’t bat-shit crazy.”
“On a lighter note, they have crème brûlée on room service.” Tasha held up the menu book. “Just FYI.”
Kelsey groaned and covered her head with a pillow. Instinct pushed her to go home. Much easier to smooth things over with her mother and stay in Dallas. But the part of her that had gone into hibernation when Chelsea died whispered in her ear, You’ll never break away if you stay.
Guilt chewed on her. As difficult as her mother was, Kelsey knew that Filomena was hurting. She just didn’t know how to show her vulnerability. Filomena viewed letting down her guard as a weakness and weakness was the last thing she would ever let anyone see. It made Kelsey sad.
“Aww, c’mon, cheer up. Don’t get morose,” Tasha wheedled. She grabbed Kelsey’s hand and tugged her off the bed. “Let’s go do something. Just because your mother is unhappy doesn’t mean you have to be.”
She appreciated Tasha, she really did, but the irony wasn’t missed on Kelsey. Tasha wanted Kelsey to stop trying to please Filomena by pleasing her instead.
“Just let me decompress, okay?”
“Sure, sure.” Tasha bobbed her head. “Fact is, I need to go home and pack anyway before we take off on this jaunt.”
“Do that then.”
“Only if you swear, swear, swear you will not go home.”
“I swear.”
“Pinkie swear?” Tasha held out her little finger.
“Pinkie swear.” Kelsey locked fingers with her friend.
“Okay, but when I get back, we’re going to dinner at the swankiest place I can find that’ll take us without advance reservations. On me.”
“You don’t have—”
“On me,” Tasha insisted. “I’m getting a two-week trip on your dime, remember?”
“Okay.” Kelsey nodded, smiled.
“And we’ll discuss your first dare.”
“Have you thought about something?” Kelsey asked.
Tasha shivered as if she’d thought up the best dare in the world. “How’s this? You have to kiss the first random guy that you find attractive.”
“Provided he’s willing and single.”
“Absolutely. I’m all about consent. Just ask Tony, the butt grabber.”
Kelsey laughed. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Really?” Tasha looked surprised.
“A dare’s a dare.”
“That was easier than I thought. Unless . . .” Tasha narrowed her eyes and tapped her chin. “You’re planning on running out on me.”
“I won’t leave.”
“Just in case, I’m taking your purse.” Tasha grabbed Kelsey’s purse and bounced for the door. “Back in a flash.”
Even though she’d pinkie sworn, the guilt pushed her to go home and Kelsey might just have given in to her emotions, called her mom, and asked her to send over her personal chauffeur, Lewis Hunter. But she decided to think this through.
Twenty-seven years of growing up with a controlling mom with lofty political ambitions had schooled her to stay calm, quiet, and observe her environment to head off trouble. Hypervigilance was her watchword. Be prepared, her credo.
Kelsey had not ever been able to trust the world around her, never knowing when Filomena might snap from love bombing to angry harangues. Or whether she could count on her father to rescue her from her mother’s quixotic moods. Sometimes Theo would go toe-to-toe with Filomena. Other times, he’d take off for the golf course or disappear into his den with beer and pretzels and watch sports for hours.
After Chelsea died, that one defining moment of pure tragic horror had cemented Kelsey’s worldview. Life was indeed dangerous. It wasn’t safe to trust anyone too much.
She stuck her hands into her pockets, found Mayor Berg’s card. Studied it. Could it be her ticket to freedom? Or were there too many strings attached? Part of her thrilled at the idea of managing a gubernatorial campaign, but did she really want to start a war with her mother? Because that’s how she would take Kelsey’s defection. A declaration of war.
Her cell phone dinged. Not again, Mom.
Leery, she peered at the screen and breathed a sigh of relief when the text was from her runaway groom.
Clive: U OK?
Kelsey: Good.
Clive: Really?
Kelsey: R U OK?
Clive: I’ve never been more OK. My only regret is U.
Kelsey: Don’t worry about me. B true to yourself.
Clive: I do love U.
Kelsey: Just not in the right way.
Clive: Is there a wrong way to love?
Kelsey chuckled. Suppose not.
Clive: Can U 4give me?
Kelsey: Nothing to 4give.
Clive: What about Filomena?
Kelsey: Oh, she’ll carry a grudge to the grave.
Clive: My poor dad. He’s getting an earful.
Kelsey: I’m sure.
Clive: Kels?
Kelsey: Yes?
Clive: Freedom is beautiful.
Kelsey: ???
Clive: Search your heart. U know the answer.
Kelsey: ???
Clive: Dare to reach for the stars. They R closer than you think.
Kelsey: U sound like a fortune cookie.
Clive: I wish for U the very best life has to offer.
Kelsey: U 2 Fortune Cookie.
Clive: Gotta go. Our plane is boarding.
Kelsey didn’t even ask Clive where he was going. It was none of her business. She stared at the phone in her hand. Looked at his texts—freedom is beautiful, search your heart, reach for the stars.
Dare.
Apparently, it was her trigger word today.
Dare.
Dare to take off for two weeks. Dare to step outside her comfort zone. Dare to kiss a random willing guy.
Dare, dare, dare.
She’d agreed to Tasha’s Christmas of Yes challenge. But first she had to stick to one big fat N-O.
No, she would not go home. No, she would not give in to her mother’s wishes. No, she would not second-guess herself.
She was doing this.
It felt good to make a solid decision.
And the next morning, when they got up and headed out, Tasha didn’t even have to remind her about the blindfold. Kelsey tied it on herself in the Uber.
Chapter 5
Noah MacGregor loved, loved, loved Christmas.
December was his absolute favorite time of year. Cooking brunch at the First Presbyterian Church Hall for The First Love Cookie Club that Sunday morning had left him with a warm glow and a happy smile as he parked his pickup truck in the marina parking garage.
Christmas Island wasn’t drivable by car. The island was too small for roads. Guests parked at the marina and were met by a staff member, who greeted them at the bridge archway and ferried them to the Rockabye in a golf cart.
He unloaded his truck briskly. As he was leaving the church hall he’d gotten a text from Raylene reminding him that two guests were arriving soon and to get his ass over to greet them.
Anxious to get to the marina before his guests, he’d hustled right over from the brunch, still wearing his white apron, embroidered with cheeky red lettering: I’m the Reason Santa Has a Naughty List.
Noah puttered down Marina Drive and arrived at the bridge, which was decorated
in garlands, bows, Christmas lights, and mistletoe. He and Sean had put the ornaments up the day after Thanksgiving.
The air was cool, but not too cold. The sky overcast. He parked the golf cart on the middle of the bridge, cocked back in the driver’s seat, and stretched his long legs out over the steering wheel and across the top of the golf cart.
Within minutes a black SUV stopped at the end of the ramp, and two women got out, along with the driver who went around the back of the vehicle to unload their luggage. One of the women was dark haired and brown skinned, the other blond and pale as cream. The blonde wore a blue scarf as a blindfold.
Hmm? What was this?
The shorter woman reached up and whisked the scarf off the blonde as if arriving at the marina was a big surprise.
Blinking, the blonde looked around. Squinting against the afternoon sun, she pulled sunglasses from her purse and put them on. She leaned over to say something to the dark-haired woman.
The two were a study in contrasts. The shorter woman was built like a gymnast, petite, compact, and muscular while the sexy blonde looked like a yogini—tall, willowy, lithe. She had her hair pulled into a single long braid that dangled halfway down the middle of her back.
The dark-haired woman wore denim jeans, a red Stetson, black cowgirl boots, and she looked as if she was headed to a hoedown. The blonde was draped in soft floral fabrics that shifted and fluttered with her movements.
In his opinion, the material was way too thin for December weather near the water, even in North Central Texas. She wore ridiculous high-heeled sandals and a lightweight white knitted sweater as if she’d been planning a vacation someplace more temperate but changed her destination at the last minute.
The way the blonde walked stirred something inside him. Something wild and rebellious. Did he know her?
An unexpected name popped into his head.
Kelsey.
Holy Christmas stockings! Noah plowed a hand through his hair. Why was he still thinking about that long-ago, teenage love?
Forget it.
Forget Kelsey.
Water under the damn bridge.
But the blonde swayed with the same delicate grace as his first crush. From this distance, he couldn’t be sure, but it seemed she had the same full mouth, the same heart-shaped face, the same high cheekbones.
The center of his chest, and other parts of his body, far south of his heart, tightened and squeezed.
It couldn’t be her. Could it?
Nah. What would she be doing here?
Noah unfolded himself from the golf cart and started toward them, raising a hand in greeting. He realized belatedly that he was still wearing the goofy apron, but he couldn’t remove it without taking off his jacket first, and they’d already spotted him.
“Hello,” he greeted and sauntered closer, his pulse quickening until he was standing directly underneath the bridge archway. “I’m from the Rockabye here to give you a lift.”
“Hi!” The bubbly petite woman rushed over. “I’m Tasha Williams.”
The blonde was still at the SUV. She tipped the driver, who grinned like he’d won the lottery. The man got back into his vehicle and drove away.
“I keep telling her to use the app to tip the driver, but she insists on paying cash,” the shorter woman mumbled.
Slowly, the blonde made her way toward them, head down as she watched where she placed those impractical shoes on the wooden walkway.
Noah extended a hand to her. “Hi, I’m—”
The blonde raised her head and inhaled sharply. She pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead and studied him openmouthed.
Noah’s heart bounced up into his throat. His stomach contracted and sweat trickled down his sides as he peered into a pair of startling blue eyes that he hadn’t seen in ten long years.
It is her, he thought.
Kelsey James.
A boat passed by the island, rocking waves into the marina. Metal rigging clanged against cement posts. The suspension bridge swayed mildly beneath their feet. Kelsey’s mouth popped wide in a huge smile, and she said in a breathless gasp, “Noah MacGregor, is that really you?”
Kiss the first random, willing, hot guy that you find attractive.
The second Kelsey recognized the hot guy in the kitschy Christmas apron, she knew she’d been hoodwinked.
She’d already been thrown for a loop when Tasha pulled off the blindfold and Kelsey realized she was back in Twilight. But to find herself looking into Noah MacGregor’s brown eyes—and he just happened to be standing under a bridge archway laden with mistletoe—was just too much.
Her heart jumped into overdrive and zoomed off. She grabbed hold of her friend’s arm and reeled her backward. “Dammit, Tasha,” Kelsey growled under her breath. “You set me up.”
“Ta-da.” Tasha chuckled, bending to hoist their two suitcases waiting on the wooden walkway where the Uber driver had left them. “I conjured up your fantasy man. Imagine my surprise when I researched Noah further and discovered he opened up a boat motel right in the town where you first met.”
“This can’t be happening.” Kelsey shot a sidelong glance over at Noah, who was lounging insouciantly against the archway post.
“Are you uncomfortable yet?” Tasha giggled like a maniacal villain in a cheesy soap opera.
“Very.”
“Oh goodie. This is indeed a Christmas of Yes. You have to stay, and the first dare is to kiss a random hot guy.”
“A willing random hot guy.”
“That man is standing underneath a mess of mistletoe. How willing can you get?”
The stupid dare. Why had she ever agreed to it? Before Kelsey could say anything, Noah reached for their suitcases and took them from Tasha’s hands.
“Leave that to me,” he said.
Kelsey didn’t want to stare at him, but she couldn’t seem to stop. Forget that he was wearing a goofy Christmas apron and a light jacket, she could still make out well-developed muscles beneath his clothing.
Actually, the apron was kind of adorbs. And she could easily imagine him cooking up a special holiday dinner. At camp he’d made the best s’mores.
Twinkle lights were strung from the dock and the marina building in the distance. In the grayness of the foggy afternoon, the Christmas lights offered a welcoming invitation.
Come, they invited. Cozy up by a warm fire with a lap blanket, a good book, and a cup of hot tea. Forget about the wedding that wasn’t. Forget about the fiancé that picked the exact wrong time to come out of the closet. Forget about the mother who was fuming because Kelsey had taken off with Tasha for the holidays.
All she had to do was say yes. Yes, to Twilight. Yes, to stepping outside her comfort zone. Yes, to kissing the hot guy under the mistletoe who also just happened to be Noah MacGregor.
No, no, no.
One thing and one thing only was on her mind—rest, relax, recover. Never mind about Tasha and her ridiculous dare.
But one look into Noah’s dark brown eyes changed all that.
She felt something twist low in her abdomen like a savage beast had awakened and wanted out.
Noah was all grown up and filled out in pure masculine glory. The breeze gusted, sending his sexy scent rushing over her.
His aroma was both familiar and foreign. He smelled like the boy she’d once known, but with more layers now. Leather and peppermint. Sandalwood soap and Spanish marjoram and . . . and . . . Kelsey’s nose twitched—eggs, Canadian bacon, hollandaise sauce?
Eggs Benedict.
He smelled like eggs Benedict as he stood directly below the mistletoe, with their suitcases hoisted underneath his arms, his gaze pinning her to the spot.
Intentional positioning?
Was he in on the scheme with Tasha? She darted a glance at her friend.
Tasha puckered up, jerked her head at Noah, mouthed, Kiss him, I dare you.
Oh, this was beyond nutty.
Kelsey knotted her hands into fists and struggled to catch h
er breath. A dozen competing emotions surged through her—nervousness, misgiving, fascination, wariness, hope. But at the bottom of them all, the feeling with the strongest wallop?
Delight.
She was delighted to see him.
But who wouldn’t be? He was cover-model gorgeous, and he had matured into one heck of a man. His shoulders were broader, his thighs thicker, his face fuller. But he still owned that bad boy grin, and the devilish twinkle in his eyes and the saucy apron told her that he had not lost his playful sense of humor.
Her breath flew from her body, leaving her feeling airless and high. She quelled the urge to close her eyes.
Or better yet, dive right off the bridge and swim away.
Jumping into the cold waters of Lake Twilight would be less shocking than seeing her old flame and discovering that the embers still burned.
Especially since she had an equally compelling urge to fling herself into his arms and kiss him until both of them were addled with lust and tearing each other’s clothes off to finish what they’d started ten years ago.
“I thought you were getting married this weekend,” Noah murmured.
Kelsey fingered her bottom lip. “You heard about that?”
“It was on the news when your mother won the mayoral election. Tell Filomena congrats by the way.”
Kelsey would not be doing that. Her mother despised Noah with a passion.
“Things didn’t work out with Clive,” Tasha said. “Kels is free as a bird.”
Kelsey shot her friend a hard stare. Stop talking.
But irrepressible, Tasha kept right on rolling. “He left her at the altar yesterday. Ran off with the best man.”
Noah’s eyes landed on Kelsey again. They were full of kindness and sincerity. “Aww, that sucks. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“Don’t be,” Tasha said. “She’s not.”
“Firefly?” Noah dipped his head, lowered his eyebrows. “Is your friend correct? Are you okay?”
Firefly.
His old nickname for her tripped right off his tongue as if it hadn’t been a decade since he’d last spoken to her. She’d almost forgotten that nickname. He’d dubbed her “Firefly” the first time they’d met as eleven-year-olds at Camp Hope.