by Lisa Jackson
“Yep.” He let her explore while he did a little exploring of his own.
He loved the way she melted at his touch and the sweet sounds she made as he caressed her breasts, hips, and ass. He’d never been with a woman so responsive. She was also kind of shy—subconsciously covering herself whenever he looked too long—which Boden found endearing. Rachel didn’t seem to know just how gorgeous and sexy she was.
He rolled her under him, ripped open one of the foil packets with his teeth, and suited up. With his fingers, he brought her close to climax.
“Please, Boden.”
“Please what?”
She rocked into him and tried to guide him inside her, but Boden continued to use his hands. “You know what?”
He grinned. “Tell me, just so we’re clear.”
“I want you inside of me.”
He slipped a finger in.
“Oh, that’s good.” Her head fell back and she closed her eyes.
“But that’s not what I meant.”
He laughed. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”
“To hell with patience.” Once again, she tried to take what she wanted, her hand squeezing around his dick, making it throb. It felt so good he thought he’d explode.
“All right, you win.” And with one forceful thrust he was in, surrounded by warmth and a mind-blowing tightness that made him see colors.
She started to move and he held her hips firm. “Give me a few seconds. Otherwise, this is going to be very short-lived.”
He reached under her and wrapped her legs around his hips so he could go deeper. “This okay?”
“Never better.” Despite his admonition, she started to move.
“Can’t get enough of me, huh?”
“It’s been a while; I’m making up for lost time.”
The fact that she hadn’t had sex in a while stoked something in him. Pride. Protectiveness. Possessiveness. The last one wasn’t typically his thing. He’d had a lot of girlfriends over the years and never felt the inclination to mark his territory. Having it come up now . . . well, he’d think about that later.
He slowly increased his thrusts until he found the perfect tempo. She held on to his shoulders, trying to keep up.
“Too much?”
“It’s good,” she said, her voice coming out in breaths. “So good. How ’bout for you?”
He brushed a lock of blond hair away from her face. “Good.” Then he kissed her, long and slow, and something moved in his chest. Fearing that she sensed whatever he was feeling, he quickly broke the kiss and turned his head.
“I’m close,” she said, and pulled him down, tighter.
Boden picked up the pace, reaching between her legs to take her higher. He wanted this to be good for her. He wanted her to remember this day; he wanted her to remember him. Another first, because usually he wasn’t this sentimental about his liaisons. It was the holidays, he told himself. They messed with your head.
“Oh, Boden! Boden.” She shuddered and tightened around him, climaxing.
He grunted out her name and the pressure began to build until it swamped over him like an eruption. For a second his head cleared and the euphoria was replaced by intense lucidity. And just like that it was gone.
He regained his breath and smiled down at her, nearly losing his shit at the way she looked up at him. Sort of like he’d hung the moon when all he’d done was give her good sex.
“You’re welcome,” he said to lighten the mood, because suddenly everything felt real intense.
“You too,” she responded smugly.
Apparently, the old Rachel was back, which was fine with him, because the new Rachel scared the hell out of him.
CHAPTER 9
Sometime after Boden got up to put another log on the fire, Rachel had fallen asleep. When she woke up, the comforter was wrapped around her and Boden sat cross-legged next to the coffee table, eating cake.
“Is that my bûche de noël?”
“Yep,” he said around a bite.
She clutched the blanket around her and sat up. The room seemed darker than before, so dark that she couldn’t make out what was going on outside. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Hours. Merry Christmas, by the way.”
She reached for her phone on the coffee table and checked the time. It was past midnight. “Whoa, you’re not kidding.” She couldn’t remember what time it had been when she’d nodded off, but it couldn’t have been too late. Great sex was apparently better than Ambien.
She watched Boden eat. He’d dressed, which was a shame, because he was pretty breathtaking naked. Then again, he was pretty breathtaking in jeans and a flannel shirt. And in bed . . . she’d never experienced anything like it. She’d felt a connection she’d never had with any other partner, not that there’d been a lot of them. In college, she’d had a long-term boyfriend, who’d broken up with her when she’d moved back to California to go to law school. Law school and studying for the bar had been too taxing for serious dating, though she’d had a few sporadic affairs. There’d been boyfriends since, but nothing serious. And then there’d been Jeremy.
“Want some?” Boden lifted his fork.
It seemed like a sacrilege to eat the bride and groom’s cake after their wedding had been spoiled, but she was hungry. And curious how the cake came out. She inched closer to Boden. “Is it good?”
“It’s out of this freaking world. You should really try it.” He held out a forkful and she scraped it off with her teeth, letting the white chocolate and buttercream frosting melt in her mouth.
“Mm-m. Delicious, if I do say so myself.”
He chuckled. “You learn how to make it in culinary school?” She was surprised he knew that she’d gone to culinary school. Not every baker took that trajectory. “How’d you know about culinary school?” Rachel couldn’t remember ever having talked to him about it. Until this weekend, they’d hardly talked at all other than to grouse at each other.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it’s on your Web site.” “You looked at my Web site?” She arched a brow. Was he spying on her to build his case to get the Old Watermill House?
“Sure.” He hitched his shoulders again as if it wasn’t a big deal, which it probably wasn’t. But she had a suspicious nature, especially after Jeremy. “You look at mine?”
“No.” She probably should’ve, but it had never occurred to her.
“The same woman who did Garner Adventure’s did mine. She’s up in Reno . . . does great work.”
Using a free template on one of the hosting sites, Samantha had created Tart Me Up’s. When Rachel opened her restaurant, she’d do something more professional. For now, the one she had worked fine.
He made room for her at the coffee table and it struck her that this was a weird conversation to be having after mind-blowing sex. Web sites. But it would always come down to business between the two of them. For some reason that made her sad, like it was a lost opportunity.
Boden cut another piece of the Yule log and put it on his plate. “Here, have some more.” He fed her another bite.
She picked up the fork and reciprocated.
“Damn, this is good.” He caught a few crumbs that had fallen from his mouth with his hands. “Best wedding cake I ever had.”
The compliment warmed her. People usually raved about her baked goods, but something told her Boden was a tough critic. He was certainly persnickety about his beer. And, inexplicably, she wanted to impress him.
He forked over another piece, sliding it into her mouth, and she laughed. “This is the strangest Christmas I’ve ever had . . . eating wedding cake at midnight.”
He looked at her, and for a second something in his eyes flickered. Melancholy, maybe. “It’s the best one I ever had.”
She swallowed hard. It was either the saddest thing she’d ever heard or the best compliment anyone had ever given her. “You don’t hear me complaining.” She could honestly say she’d never felt this blissful, and s
he knew she had Boden to thank for that.
“Do you think it’s stopped snowing?” She gathered up the comforter, wrapped it securely around her, and padded over to the bank of windows to peer outside. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but she couldn’t hear the wind blowing like it had before.
“Well?”
“I can’t see anything.” She continued to press her face against the glass.
Boden came over to join her. “I think it’s stopped. For now, anyway.” He was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body and a shiver went through her. “What do we do now, besides eat cake?”
He glanced at her and held her gaze. “I can think of a few things.”
* * *
Sunlight beamed through the windows and for a second Rachel forgot where she was. Then she felt Boden’s arm around her and the breadth of his bare chest pressed against her back and she remembered. The storm, the Canadells’ house, and the best night of her life. The fire had nearly burned out, yet she felt snug and toasty underneath the blankets with Boden. His body was like a furnace.
“You awake?” he asked next to her ear, and the vibration of his voice tickled.
She twisted around and came directly in contact with his chest. A very nice chest. He kissed the top of her head, letting his lips hover over her hair, and her insides squeezed. Sleeping with him felt natural. And glorious. A secret part of her hoped they’d be snowed in for a few more days.
“Mm-hmm. You want coffee?” She could heat the water over the fire and make drip.
There was a long silence as he pulled her closer, his strong arm across her back. “Just stay here a few minutes longer.”
“Okay.” She expected him to initiate sex—she could feel his erection pressed against her stomach—but he just held her with his eyes closed, resting his chin on her head.
She kissed the hollow of his throat, tasting a hint of salt and something distinctly Boden. The memory of their pre-dawn hours together flitted through her head and she could feel her breasts go heavy. She wanted him again.
He stirred slightly. “I’m gonna check the weather and see if we have any cell reception.”
And before she knew it he was up and putting on his pants. It happened so quickly she didn’t have time to protest. Alone on the floor, she felt bereft. She got to her feet, gathered her clothes on the hearth, and headed to the bathroom. There was enough natural light to see her way across the house without a flashlight.
“It looks like it’s cleared!” he called after her. “When we finish our coffee, I’ll check out the driveway!”
What was there to check? It’s not like the tree could’ve moved itself. She supposed Boden wanted to feel useful, and nodded.
In the bathroom, she was able to get enough water from the sink to wash up a little and finger brush her teeth. She slipped into her yoga pants and sweater, put her hair in a twist, and made her way into the kitchen to search for ground coffee. She’d only brought beans. There was a bag in the pantry and she filled a kettle with bottled water and took it to the fireplace where Boden was stoking the flames.
“How do I do this?” She eyed the fire.
He took the pot from her, slipped the handle over an andiron, and held it over the flame. “Old school, baby.”
“You were definitely an Eagle Scout, weren’t you?”
“Nope, just went camping with Gunny a few times. And what do they say? ‘Necessity is the mother of invention.’ ”
And Boden Farmer was a very capable man—in and out of the bedroom.
“I’ll get a potholder.” She returned to the kitchen and found an oven mitt in one of the drawers.
While she was there, she set up two mugs with filters and coffee grinds. Boden wasn’t the only one who knew how to improvise. Sometime during the wee hours of the morning, Boden had put the bûche de noël back in the fridge. She got it out along with two plates.
By the time she returned to the living room with her tray of goodies, the kettle was whistling. Boden pulled it from the flames and Rachel took it from there.
“We’re having cake again.” She could feel her face heat, remembering exactly what they’d done with the cake during their second round of heart-pounding sex.
Boden’s lips curved up. “I’m down with that.”
She poured water into their cups and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. “The sun’s out,” she said, gazing out the window.
Boden let out a breath. “Yeah, but there’s gotta be at least four feet or more of snow on the ground.”
They’d certainly had that much snow before in Glory Junction. The city was a winter sports Mecca.
He took a sip of coffee. “That tree is probably buried by now, which is going to make it twice as hard to get out of here.”
She wondered if he was regretting their time together and anxious to leave. Then she chided herself for being a moron. They had to leave sometime.
He watched her over the rim of his cup. “If it’s at all possible I’ll get you out of here in time to make it to your parents’. At least you might get there in time for Christmas dinner.”
Her throat went dry. He was being incredibly considerate—and sweet. It touched her; it really did. “That’s very kind of you, Boden, but I don’t think it’s going to happen and I’m okay with that. I’m more concerned with the bakery and what’s going on there.” She had hundreds of dollars’ worth of ingredients that could be spoiling, unless Sam figured out how to work the backup generator. At this point, she’d lost faith in the stupid things.
He drained his coffee and rose. “Let me see what I can do with a shovel and a chainsaw.”
She took their dirty dishes to the kitchen and watched through the window as he headed to the garage. Her socks and boots were still by the fire and Rachel put them on and bundled up. In the time it took her to get down the hill, Boden had made good progress shoveling a decent trail to the fallen tree.
“Can you believe this?” She held out her arms and looked up at the sky, where the sun shone like it was summer. Fickle weather. “How long until you think the power will come back?”
He leaned on the handle of the shovel. “No way to know. I’m sure PG and E’s all over it, though.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Not a lot. This tree is in here pretty good and it’s a big sucker.” He eyed the chainsaw. “It works about as well as the generator. These folks don’t take care of their tools; the nose sprockets are gummed up.”
The Canadells were rarely here, according to Tara. When they were, Rachel doubted they spent the time cleaning their chainsaw.
“You try your cell phone?” she asked.
“No signal.”
She pulled hers from her jacket pocket and tried to make a call. Zero dial tone, zero bars. She attempted a text to her parents, which also failed. “Nothing.”
Boden, who’d started shoveling again, stopped and stared at her. “We may have to spend another night here.”
The words made her body tingle. Another night. Another night with Boden.
“You hear that?” he said, and whipped his head around.
In the distance came the sound of a motorcycle. Boden shielded his eyes against the sun and peered out over the forest. A snowmobile came over the knoll. It was too far away to make out who was driving it, but it looked as if help was on the way.
CHAPTER 10
Three days had gone by and Boden hadn’t talked to Rachel since they’d been rescued by the police chief. Colt had ferried them both on his snowmobile to the highway where his truck was parked and driven them home. Tuesday, after a crew had removed the tree, Boden had gone up to the Canadell house to collect his portable bar, supplies, and truck. Rachel’s stuff, including her bakery van, was already gone. He figured she’d headed to the Bay Area to see her parents, because she hadn’t been at the bakery. He’d checked. Just the kid, Samantha, and one of the other girls who worked there.
“Hey, boss, you’re
here early.” Ingrid hung her jacket on a hook behind the bar.
“Yeah, I’m trying to figure out this new coffeemaker. You need a freaking Ph.D. just to pull an espresso.” He wanted to have it ready by New Year’s Eve for the rush. Colt’s band was playing and Boden expected a crowd.
“Congrats, by the way. I was just over at the Morning Glory and everyone’s talking about it.”
“Thanks. Rita Tucker called me this morning with the news. I’m hoping you’re down with a promotion, because I’m gonna need help getting the brewery up and running and the restaurant going over at the mill house.”
“I’m in.” Ingrid rubbed her hands together enthusiastically.
Boden wished he could feel better about having won the bid. He wondered if Rachel even knew yet. With any luck, she wouldn’t hold it against him. Since their night together, she’d been all he could think about, and he hoped they could start seeing each other, despite her edict that it was a onetime deal. But his getting the Old Watermill House would likely stick a fork in those plans. He had a sneaking suspicion that she’d lump him in with the likes of Jeremy, even though their situation was completely different. Boden hadn’t used her to climb the corporate ladder. He got the mill house fair and square.
“You mind watching the place while I take a quick break?” He planned to run over to Tart Me Up to see if the elusive Rachel had shown up.
“Nope. Do what you need to do.”
Boden shrugged into his coat. As usual there was a line at the bakery. But it didn’t take long for him to get inside, where Samantha was working the counter.
“Rachel here?”
“She’s in the kitchen.” Sam took her time making a latte for a customer and didn’t seem in any rush to get her.
Yep, they knew.
“Should I go back there or wait?” he asked, a hint of impatience in his voice.
Sam looked over her shoulder and called into the kitchen, “Rachel, Boden’s here!”
Rachel came out a few minutes later, covered in flour. “I can’t talk to you now. I’ve got a situation.”