by Carrie Elks
Holly sighed. “You’re so damn aggravating, you know that?”
“Right back at you, memory loss girl.” Without thinking, he slid his hand into his jeans pocket, his thumb rubbing across the smooth pebble he’d transferred in there. Too late, he realized Holly was staring down at his movements.
“Are you looking at my crotch?” he murmured.
Her cheeks pinked. “Of course I’m not.” She dragged her eyes up to his. “I just want to know what’s in your pocket.”
He lifted a brow. He was trying so hard not to laugh.
“I didn’t mean it like that, you ass.”
Josh shrugged. “If you want to put your hands in my pockets, be my guest. You might like what you find there.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d hate what I find there.” Her eyes darkened, her lips parted. Her breath was steady but fast. “But thank you for the image. I’ll be rinsing my brain with bleach later.”
“Have you thought of going out to eat with me instead?” he asked her. “Because the offer still stands.”
“I’d rather eat my own hand off, finger by finger.”
This time he couldn’t stop his laugh. She was delicious. Somewhere in his psyche he knew it was messed up to be this attracted to somebody who clearly loathed him.
But it felt so right, too.
“Holly,” a low female voice called out. Holly glanced over his shoulder, her face turning ashen when she saw who was standing there.
“Mom?” Holly straightened her shoulders, as though she was going into battle. “I was wondering where you were. Uncle Noel and Uncle Joe looked lost without you.”
“I need to speak to you,” her mom said, her eyes narrowed as she stared at Holly. “In private.”
Holly glanced at Josh. “I’m busy. I’m about to go to dinner with Josh.”
He lifted a brow but said nothing.
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was you, Mr. Gerber.” Her mom’s voice softened. “How lovely to see you again. Can I steal my daughter for a moment? It won’t take long.”
Holly closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again. There was a look of resignation on her face. “Five minutes,” she told her mom, then turned to Josh. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”
He could tell from the tone of her voice she intended to do no such thing. She didn’t have his number for a start.
“I’ll wait for you at the Inn,” he told her. “For our dinner.” Now she couldn’t get out of it.
Unlocking the theater door, Holly walked back into the lobby, her mom following close behind. Josh glanced at the Inn, fully intending to wait for her there, even if she was almost certain not to turn up.
But then he realized the door was still open a crack. It was as though the universe was enticing him in. So he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, his fingers grazing against the pebble again, and leaned nonchalantly back on the theater wall, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.
“Why are you stopping the sale from going through? Do you hate me, is that the problem?”
Holly sighed. This wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have tonight. Or any night, for that matter. She couldn’t remember the last time she and her mom spent any time together.
It was so much easier to avoid her than to get hurt by her again.
“This isn’t about you,” Holly told her. “We’re just trying to do something good.”
“But I need that money, Holly. We all do.” Her eyes were shining. Holly had forgotten how easily her mom cried.
“This is about more than money. It’s about grandma and her legacy.”
“Your grandma didn’t leave a legacy. She left debts and problems and we’re trying to solve them. Do you think I want to be here? You know I hate the cold.” She shivered, pulling her collar tight around her neck. “But we have to sort this out, once and for all.”
“Grandma wouldn’t have wanted this.” Holly’s voice was low.
“And you’d know what she wanted, wouldn’t you?” Her mom sounded hurt. “Because you and she were so close. I remember all the times she tried to take you away from me. I guess she’s finally succeeded.”
“She didn’t take me away from you. You pushed me away all by yourself.”
“Of course she did. Every Christmas all you wanted to do was be here with her. Every summer, too. It was all Grandma, Grandma, Grandma. And you know what? She loved it. Because it meant she was a better mother to you than I was.”
“That’s not true.”
“She told me as much. When she came to Italy six years ago.”
Holly’s throat tightened. She didn’t want to think about six years ago. Or Italy. Or the huge mistake she’d made. “Mom…”
“You jilted your fiancé on the day you were supposed to get married. And then you let my mom whisk you away and left me with the fallout.”
“I knew you’d be angry with me. And you were.” Holly’s breath caught in her throat. What a mess this was. Getting engaged to a man she hardly knew was one of the worst mistakes of her life. And she bitterly regretted the way she handled it. Especially since he was the nephew of her mom’s then husband.
But she’d been young and afraid and she’d let her grandma rescue her. And she knew that had hurt her mom.
She just didn’t know how to make it right.
“You didn’t have to call her,” her mom said. “She loved it, do you know that? Loved that you needed her more than me. And now you’re doing it again. Choosing her instead of your mother. When all I want is your support. I don’t understand why you hate me so much.”
Holly felt like she’d been slapped. “Mom, I don’t hate you.”
“Then let us complete the sale. Let me walk away from this place. I hated it when I was a child and I hate it now.”
“But I love this town.” And that was the truth. The difference between them.
Tears pooled in her mom’s eyes. “Then I guess you’ve made your choice.” She pulled open the door, a blast of icy air lifting her blonde hair. Stepping outside, she slammed the door behind her.
Holly’s stomach clenched. She hated the way they always ended up in a fight. It had been this way ever since she could remember, even though Holly had always hoped things would change.
It wasn’t her grandma’s fault. It was Holly’s and her mom’s. And right now, there was no way to make things better.
Snow had started to fall by the time she’d composed herself. Holly locked the theater door behind her and looked up at the sky. It had that granite, heavy kind of look that promised more than just a dusting on the ground. When they were younger, North would get excited on nights like these, talking about the snow ball fights they’d have the next morning.
It was tradition to always have battles with the first layer of snow. Her heart clenched at the memory.
“Are you okay?”
She almost jumped out of her boots. Josh was leaning against the theater, sheltered by the overhang, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets as he stared at her.
“What are you still doing here?”
He shrugged. “I thought you might need help.”
A horrible thought occurred to her. “You didn’t overhear my conversation with my mom, did you?” She felt suddenly exposed.
His brows knitted, his eyes scanning her face. It felt like he was weighing his answer. “What part?” he finally asked, confirming her worst fears.
He’d heard every word. Of course he had. The universe hated her. Why wouldn’t it pile some more crap onto her day? A wave of emotion washed over her. She hated the way she and her mom never connected. And how every conversation they had ended in an argument. It was exhausting and emotional, and now Josh Gerber was staring at her with what looked like sympathy in his eyes.
And she couldn’t take it. Not now.
“I need to go,” she said, fresh tears stinging her eyes.
Josh reached for her arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice was soft.
The lump in her throat grew into a fully fledged rock. His annoyance, she could take. His anger, too. But sympathy from this man who knew how to press all her buttons?
It might kill her.
Screwing her face up to stop the tears from flowing, she pulled her arm from his grasp. “I’m sorry… I have to…” She turned on her heel, stalking into the ice cold night.
“Holly, wait!”
Ignoring his shouts, she kept going, gritting her teeth when her heavy-soled boots slid on the freshly fallen snow. She was heading toward the one place she knew she could hide and nobody would find her. Tears were flowing down her face, and she couldn’t quite understand why. She was used to her relationship with her mom. It couldn’t be that.
Maybe it was the mortification of Josh trying to be kind to her.
Her old cabin was at the bottom of the slope, beyond the large modernized ones that tourists used to fight over. It should have been demolished years ago. Maybe Candy had kept it for a night just like this one.
For Holly to be able to escape to.
She yanked open the door and stepped inside, the mustiness of the damp wood filling her nostrils. Where once a fire had burned, the grate was full of dust and soot. There were still two twin beds on either side of the room, and in between was a door to the basic bathroom that she used to shower in every day. Thank goodness the electricity was still wired up. The overhead light flickered to life as she flipped the switch.
They’d all had their own cabins when they were younger. North, Kris, and Gabe had shared two between them, and Alaska and Everley’s cabin was a row down from Holly’s. Candy had insisted that if they were working for her during their holidays and vacations then she would provide their accommodation.
And she’d loved this little place. It had been hers and hers alone. The beds covered with the butterfly designs she’d adored at the age of fifteen. She shook her head when she realized that beneath the dust they were still there. Smoothing her hand over the surface of the coverlet, she cleared enough of the fabric for her to sit down dust-free, and let out a long sigh, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
It was in this cabin that she’d brought Josh Gerber to on that fatal night. They’d curled up almost naked together beneath the covers, his lips and fingers taking her to places she didn’t even know existed.
And then the next morning he’d been gone. Flown to London to start a new job, working for his grandfather’s British business.
The truth was, she thought she’d meant more to him than a one night almost-stand. She’d waited months for him to contact her, to ask her to visit him or offer to visit her. But he hadn’t done so much as friended her on Facebook.
And now he expected her to admit that she still thought of that night? No way, buddy. Better to pretend it hadn’t happened at all.
She hated how much her body reacted to him every time they were close. The years had been more than kind to him. He’d been beautiful eight years ago, but now he was devastating. With those dark eyes and razor sharp jaw, he was impossible to ignore.
And she wanted to ignore him. She really did.
A loud knock at the door made her lift her head up. She’d stopped crying, thank goodness. She didn’t want anybody to see her like that.
It was inevitable, when she opened the door, that it was Joshua Gerber III standing there on the stoop. As though the last eight years hadn’t happened and he was back after that night. He’d changed his mind and come back for her.
Dear God, she needed to stop reading romance books in between cases.
She was twenty-eight years old. A successful, confident woman who didn’t need a man to validate her. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and made her eyes meet his.
And yes, she might have clenched her thighs a little. But it was cold, dammit.
“I would have gotten here faster, but these boots weren’t made for running.” He lifted his foot up, and she just about managed not to smile. “And I kind of forgot which cabin was yours.”
“Have you been here before?” she asked innocently. The snow was falling heavier now, deadening their voices.
“Are we back to this again?” His voice was smooth. “Yes, I’ve been here before. You let me stay here when I had nowhere else to go.” He dusted the snow from his hair. “Can I come in before I catch pneumonia?”
She stepped aside. “You know that’s not true, right? Statistically you’re more likely to get pneumonia during the winter, for sure. But there’s no causal effect. It’s just the season.”
His lip twitched. “Thank you for that information. But I’d still prefer not to freeze my ass off.” He looked around the cabin, his brows knitting. “Holy shit, this place looks exactly the same.” Josh walked over to the bed, reaching out to trace a butterfly beneath the dust. “You have the same bedding. You always had a thing for butterflies.”
She felt that rawness again. “I learned about the butterfly effect at science camp when I was twelve. I was obsessed by it for years.”
He looked over his shoulder at her, his gaze as soft as a caress. “I remember. You had butterflies on everything.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
“Do you know how many times I got turned on to the thought of your butterfly thongs?” he asked. He walked toward her, his stare unwavering. She could feel the pit of her stomach start to twist and turn. She was frozen to the spot. She couldn’t move if she wanted to.
She was a rabbit facing a devastatingly handsome, stalking fox.
“Why do you keep lying to me?” he whispered, reaching out to trace his finger over her bottom lip. A pulse of desire rushed through her, making her tingle all over.
“Maybe you weren’t as good as you thought.”
He laughed. “Maybe I just need to remind you.”
She tipped her head to the side. His finger had stilled on her lip, his eyes darkening as they held hers captive. “Maybe you do,” she whispered, her muscles clenching at the thought.
A slow smile pulled at his lips, as though he could see the desire shining out of her. As though he knew her body was buzzing with electricity. He pulled his hand away, and she immediately missed his touch.
“Do you want me to kiss you, Holly?” His hooded eyes dipped to her lips as she moistened them with the tip of her tongue.
“I think you want to.”
“You’re right. I do.”
Her heart was hammering against her chest now. “What’s stopping you?”
“I want you to ask me.”
“You want a lot.” Her breath caught in her throat.
“Yeah, I do.” He looked down at her body. Even wrapped in a thick coat, his stare made her shiver. “But we have a history. This time, I don’t want you to forget it happened.”
“Then maybe you need to put in some effort.” She wasn’t going to beg him. No way. “Or you could take a photograph.”
He grinned. “That’s the kind of thing that’ll get me in the newspapers for all the wrong reasons. I want your consent, Holly.” He stepped closer still. “Say yes.”
Consent is sexy. She’d heard that before. But she’d never felt it until this moment. Until Josh Gerber was looking right into her eyes, his body so close to hers that their coats were touching. She had to incline her head to hold his gaze, enough to make her feel wobbly on her feet. Why did he have to smell so good? She was almost dizzy with the scent of him.
He cupped her cheek, running his thumb across her jaw. “Say yes,” he said again, his touch setting her skin on fire.
Her body was screaming at her to answer. Her nipples were hard, and her thighs ached. Yet there was still something holding her back.
“You know what I remember about you?” he murmured, his thumb pressing against her lips. “How sweet you tasted. It was snowing, that first time I kissed you. I was dressed as Santa, you were an Elf. And I was trying to warm you up, but really I wanted to touch you all over. Do you still taste as sweet?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” He was seducing her with his words. Making her feel like she’d been somebody worth remembering. And it was so confusing, because they were enemies. Fighting each other for the future of this town.
But he was looking at her as if he’d given up fighting. Against her, against himself.
As though he wanted to make love, not war.
He dropped his head until his brow was pressed against hers. She could feel the heat of his skin, the dampness of his hair, the sweet warmth of his breath as it dusted against her skin.
And that’s when she gave up the fight, too.
Letting out a lungful of air, she reached up, brushing her palm against his rough jaw. “Kiss me,” she said, her body starting to shake.
And he did.
12
From a young age, Josh had learned that the things you wanted most were almost always a disappointment when they came. Gifts, holidays, going to a rare ball game with his grandfather – that turned out to be an opportunity for him to schmooze clients while pretending to be grandparent of the year.
He’d come to terms with that fact. Absorbed it into his being.
But kissing Holly Winter again was no disappointment at all.
Her lips were soft yet demanding, her arms tight as they wrapped around his neck, pulling her body against his. He slid his hands beneath her coat, exploring the hollow of her back, their mouths parting until his tongue tangled with hers.
She was everything he could remember. He ached for her. Without breaking their kiss, he slid his hand between them to unzip her coat, exposing her soft cashmere-covered chest to the air, before running his hands over her curves.
He loved the way her breath hitched at his touch. The way she arched her back toward him, until her soft breasts brushed against his rough palm.
He walked her backward, toward the bed, turning them around so he was the one who fell on the dust-covered mattress, a cloud of gray puffed around them as she crawled her way onto his body.
His coat would be ruined by the dust, but he didn’t give a damn. He was too busy kissing her to think about that. And she was kissing him back, and it was driving him crazy in the best of ways.