by LuAnn McLane
Claire looked out of the window through the swirling snow. “Wow, it’s magnificent, Jesse. I don’t blame you one bit. With the pine trees and the mountains . . . wow, it looks like a scene inside a snow globe.” She turned to look at him.“So your parents don’t live here anymore?”
A shadow passed over his face as he removed the keys from the ignition. “No.”
Claire wanted to ask more, but he abruptly turned and opened his door. A moment later he was at her side. “Oh . . .” She looked down at her sock feet and winced.
“We’ve established that I can carry you,” he reminded her with a wry smile. “Just link your arms around my neck and hold on, okay?”
“But—”
“Claire, just promise not to wiggle and we’ll be fine.”
After a brief hesitation she said, “Okay, I promise.”
“Good. Now, just relax. I’ll come back later for the packages and supplies.”
Claire felt a bit shy about linking her arms around him, but after she nodded, he scooped her up and lifted her from the truck. He trudged through the deepening snow and, as promised, carried her with apparent ease up wide steps to a wraparound porch.The entryway was a beautiful arch of multicolored stone surrounding wooden double doors.
“Can you lean over and let us in?” Jesse asked.
“Sure.” Claire nodded and held her hand out.
“What?”
“I’ll need the key.”
“It’s unlocked.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re joking!”
“The crime rate up here is . . . well, low unless you count raccoons stealing garbage and deer eating acorns.”
“No, that doesn’t count.” Claire laughed but then thought about the alarm system on her apartment in the city and shook her head in wonder. “It must be nice not to have that worry.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a downside. Pizza isn’t delivered either.”
“Oh, well, that sure has to suck!”
“Yeah, but it has made me a pretty good cook.” He chuckled and looked down at her.
Wow, his eyes are blue.
“Yeah, sometimes it sucks. I guess you can’t imagine living without fast food.”
“Sometimes I need me some Starbucks.”
Jesse grinned. “Like about now?”
“Um . . . yeah.”
“Sorry about your bad luck.”
“I seem to be having a string of it.” After she opened the door, Jesse eased Claire to her feet and flicked on overhead lights. “Wow!” Perhaps my luck is changing. She padded in her stocking feet across the gleaming hardwood floor into a massive great room. A floor-to-ceiling fieldstone fireplace was the focal point, and although the room was large, leather furniture accented with plump pillows in jewel tones made the space feel warm and inviting. Many of the furnishings seemed to spring from nature, including a glass-topped tree trunk that served as a coffee table, and a wine rack made of antlers, giving the room a rustic charm that managed to maintain a touch of elegance.
Claire turned around to face Jesse, who remained standing on the braided rug in the foyer. “Your so-called cabin is breathtaking. I can’t wait to see the rest of it.” She thought the lack of Christmas decorations was a bit sad, but she kept her questions to herself.
“Make yourself at home while I bring in the supplies. My bedroom is on the first floor, but you can choose any of the guest rooms upstairs. Oh, and help yourself to anything in the fridge.The kitchen is to your left. Grab a beer if you want one. Don’t be shy.”
“Thanks. I might grab one in a bit,” Claire replied calmly, but after Jesse headed out the door, she hung his parka on a nearby coatrack and then made a beeline for the kitchen. Okay, it might not be happy hour yet, but she was stranded with a complete stranger in the middle of Colorado with little more than the clothes on her back. . . .Yeah, she could use a little liquid courage. She flicked a switch that turned on recessed lighting, but before snagging a beer, she had to pause to admire the gourmet kitchen. “Oh . . . my,” she said breathily. Stainless-steel appliances gleamed against the walls, while a granite center island surrounded by tall stools seemed to invite her to sit down. Cherry cabinets added elegance to the sleek look, but the slate gray tile floor brought a touch of the rustic feel back into the room. It was gorgeous.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Claire turned at the sound of Jesse’s deep voice and felt a little embarrassed that she stood in the middle of the room with her hands crossed on her chest.“Oh, yes, I was just admiring your kitchen. It makes me want to learn to cook.”
“Up here, you have to. The only takeout comes from the freezer.”
“It’s always good to have a backup plan,” Claire agreed.
“That’s my motto. How about you?”
Claire looked down at her sock feet and then back at him. “What’s your guess?”
“I’m guessing . . . no.” Jesse grinned as he set several bags of groceries onto the center island.
“Then you must be a good guesser.”
“Mmm, not so much, actually. I didn’t have you pegged at all.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Not really.” He took his hat off, revealing thick, jet-black, wavy hair that he probably took for granted and any woman she knew would die for.When he reached up and ran his fingers through it, Claire had the sudden urge to walk over to him and do the same thing.You know, as a professional, she tried to tell herself. “Well, I have plenty of supplies to work with and we’ve got nothing but time on our hands.”
“Ah . . . so you really are a backup-plan kinda guy?”
“I try to be prepared.”
“Well, where’s the fun in that?”
He looked at her as if not knowing whether to take her seriously or not. She often got that same look from her parents.
“Can I help you put things away?”
“Sure,” he replied, and started unpacking the bags.
Claire noticed with approval that they were reusable mesh but had to giggle when she pulled out a whole pineapple. “What? Were you thinking of having a luau?”
He grinned. “I told you I got caught up in the moment. It was chaos in the grocery store. I swear people were grabbing random things off the shelves, and I jumped right into the fray. I actually like to cook, but I’m a typical buy-only-what-you-need kind of guy. The pineapple was a rare impulse purchase. Maybe I was lamenting the loss of my tropical vacation.” He placed ground beef, an onion, peppers, and a packet of chili spices on the counter. “See, the ingredients for chili. No more, no less.” He looked at Claire with male satisfaction. “What? Why are you grinning?”
She lifted a carton out of the bag. “Eggnog?”
“My one Christmas indulgence,” he explained.
“Orange juice, butter, sub rolls, lunch meat.” She nodded. “Pretty normal,” she continued, but then grinned when she unveiled a pint of strawberries, one apple, two oranges. “You are such a girl,” she teased.
“Hey, we were going to be snowed in. I didn’t want to get scurvy.”
She peered back into the bag and giggled.
“What now?”
“Really?” She lifted up a container of chocolate fruit dip. She wiggled her fingers. “Hand over your man card.”
Jesse shrugged and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know—I guess I was wondering what I was going to do with all of that useless fruit, so I felt compelled to purchase that.” He raised his eyebrows. “Hey, let’s try it.” He opened the carton of strawberries and rinsed them off. After handing her a plump one, he took the lid off the dip.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Claire dunked her strawberry in the dip and took a juicy bite. “Oh, mmm, yeah.” She nodded. “Good stuff.”
Jesse grinned, then followed suit. “See, I knew what I was doing,” he told her and, after dipping his strawberry into the chocolate, he took a generous bite and groaned.
Claire had a comeback on the tip of her tongue,
but when Jesse licked a bit of chocolate from his bottom lip, she completely forgot what she was about to say. For someone so big and strong he had a sensual grace about him that made her want to sigh . . . and so she did.
“You’re right—good stuff,” he said, mistaking her reason for sighing. “Want more?”
“Oh, you better believe it,” Claire answered instantly, but then felt heat creep into her cheeks.“I mean, yes, please.”When Claire accepted another strawberry, the brush of his fingertips against hers sent a warm tingle up her arm. Her eyes widened in surprise and she wondered if he was feeling the same way. She took a nibble of the strawberry and toyed with the button on her suit while she tried to regain her composure.
“You look uncomfortable,” he commented.
“Well . . . this is a bit of a situation I’ve gotten myself into.”
Jesse gave her a slight grin. “No, I meant you look uncomfortable in that suit.”
She lifted her shoulders. “It’s all I have, remember?”
He leaned forward and rested his hands on the granite island and then looked at her thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t have any female clothing on hand, but go on into my bedroom and rummage around.You can make do with rolling up some sweats, or long underwear might be a better fit since they’re tighter. Grab a flannel shirt or whatever you want. It’s all clean.”
Claire’s eyes widened.“I can’t dig around in your drawers!” She shook her head. “Wait, that didn’t come out right.”
Jesse’s low rumble of laughter did warm, fluttery things to her stomach. “You are one funny chick.”
“I get that a lot, but I don’t really try.”
“I’m bone tired and in a bad mood. And yet you’re able to make me laugh.What’s up with that?”
“Maybe Santa sent me.”
Jesse angled his head and gave her a hot look that almost made her slither to the floor. “I’m thinking he did.”
“Well then, you must be at the top of the naughty list.”
Jesse chuckled again, but the word “naughty” seemed to hang in the air between them. “Speaking of naughty . . .” He arched one dark eyebrow and then pulled out a six-pack of beer followed by a bottle of bourbon. “See? I have guy things, too.”
“Oh, now you’re talkin’. Mmm, I’d love me some bourbon in the eggnog.”
“Yep.” He nodded. “One of the few Christmas traditions I can’t resist,” he admitted, but his smile seemed a bit forced.
Claire angled her head in question, but when he failed to elaborate, she didn’t want to pry and let his comment slide.
“Let’s forget the beer and go for the good stuff.You in?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?”
Jesse put the heel of his hand to his forehead and cracked up.“I know firsthand that the answer is yes. God, you are something else.”
“Sorry, I was just getting into log cabin character. I can’t believe I just said that. My mother would be mortified.”
Jesse shook his head slowly. “Don’t be sorry. I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.” He shooed her with his hands.“Now, go and dig around in my drawers. When you come back, I’ll have some Christmas cheer ready for you.”When she hesitated, he said, “Claire, if you don’t, I’ll have to put on a suit to make you feel better. And I hate suits.”
“It’s not that.”
“What, then?” he asked as he uncapped the bourbon.
“Can I take a drink with me?” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and gave him a wishful look.
“Absolutely. I understand. It’s been a tough day.” He gave her a slow smile. “Coming right up.”
Claire felt another flutter in her stomach and suddenly felt the need to sit down. She watched him move with quiet efficiency and a fluid grace that was at odds with his size.When Jesse reached up to retrieve two glass tumblers from the cabinet, she admired the fit of his jeans and the stretch of flannel across his wide shoulders. She was used to seeing guys in designer clothes, but his Wranglers somehow seemed so much sexier. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing corded muscles in his forearms, and Claire guessed his thick, muscled body came from physical work rather than oiled machines in a sleek, modern gym.That thought brought an image of him shirtless, chopping wood....
Oh my.
“Here you go,” Jesse announced, and slid the glass across the shiny surface.
Claire took a healthy sip of the sweet creamy eggnog laced with a generous bite of bourbon. “Oh, wow.”
“Taste okay?”
“Excellent.” She took another swallow and then licked the sweetness from her bottom lip.“Oh yeah, this is hitting the spot big-time,” she commented, but then felt warmth creep up her neck once again. Why did everything she was saying seem to have sexual overtones? She watched Jesse’s long fingers drop ice cubes into his own glass and knew the answer.The man defined big, brawny masculinity, and yet there was an air of keen intelligence about him. The fact that he was a talented artist added another layer and created a fascination that she had never experienced until right now. There was also a sense of sadness lurking in the depths of his eyes . . . a vulnerable edge that he tried to keep hidden, but Claire could feel it and wanted to chase it away.
“Why are you looking at me so intently?” he asked, then grinned. “I bet you’re itching to cut my crazy long hair.”
When he reached up and shoved his fingers through it, Claire took another long pull on her drink. “I am.”
“A cut is long overdue, but I’ve been too busy to worry about it. Maybe you can shape it up for me?”
“Earn my keep? Good thing you didn’t ask me to sing for my supper because I suck.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Jesse shook his head. “You’re my guest.”
At first she thought he was teasing, but when he really appeared a little offended, Claire reached across the counter and put her hand over his.“I was only teasing. Guess it’s my big-city attitude coming out. I’d be happy to run my fingers through your hair.” Oh God. “And cut it.” She reached over and demonstrated. “You know, like this. Lift, snip, lift, snip.” Wow, his hair is soft. “Lift . . . um . . . snip.”
“Claire, I know I don’t look like it, but I have had my hair cut before.”
“Right.” She pulled her hand back and pressed her lips together.“Um, I’ll go change into your clothes now. I might as well keep the humiliation rolling right along.”
“You want me to change into yours to make you feel better?”
“You’d do that for me?” She clasped her hands to her chest and batted her eyes.
“Of course,” he replied, playing along.
“After all, what’s Christmas without a little cross-dressing?”
“I think you meant a little corn-bread dressing. . . .”
“Oh.” Claire slapped a hand to her forehead. “My bad. Wow, I’ve gotten that wrong for years.” Claire picked up her drink and headed out of the room but said over her shoulder, “I just hope you like thongs. . . .”
Chapter Four
After Claire left the kitchen, Jesse put his cold glass to his forehead and groaned. “Damn . . .” It might be snowing outside, but he sure as hell was burning up.The more Claire let her guard down, the more attracted he was to her, and that last casual comment about her thong nearly did him in. He shook his head. She was a fascinating combination of shy and bold, making him wonder what she would be like in bed.
“Don’t even go there,” he reminded himself. He took another healthy swallow of his spiked eggnog and tried to gather his scattered wits, but when he spotted her slinky red sandals sitting on the black granite, he had a sudden vision of Claire lying on his bed wearing nothing but those sexy heels.
Not going there really wasn’t working out for him. With a deep sigh he absently added some bourbon and a splash of eggnog into his glass. “Okay, that was supposed to be the other way around,” he said under his breath, but then shrugged. He downed half of it while puttin
g away the rest of his groceries and trying without much success not to think about Claire getting naked.At least she was going to be swimming in his big clothes and hiding her sweet curves. That should help matters a little, anyway.
Maybe.
“Okay, maybe not,” he mumbled softly when she walked into the kitchen.
“Excuse me?”
“I said you look hot,” he answered as if joking, except he wasn’t. His green plaid flannel shirt was an amazing shade on her with her deep red hair and moss-colored eyes. She had used her own belt to cinch it at her waist and wore snug-fitting long johns underneath.
“Right.” She wrinkled up her nose and looked down at her outfit. “Could I have a teensy bit more of your eggnog?” She held her thumb and index finger an inch apart and then pushed her glass his way. “It was de-lish.”
“Absolutely,” Jesse answered, and then refreshed her drink. After sliding it her way, he said, “Feel free to explore the cabin or watch television. I’m going to take a cold—I mean hot—shower if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, no, go right ahead.”
“Thanks.” He picked up his drink but then paused. “If you get hungry, there are a few snacks.We’ll cook dinner later, okay?”
She looked at him over the rim of her glass. “You’ll cook dinner. I’ll just sit here and look . . . pretty in flannel.”
When she stuck a pose as a joke, Jesse walked over and said softly in her ear, “My shirt never looked so good.” He didn’t look to see her reaction but heard her slight gasp and continued walking. It blew his mind that she didn’t know how hot she was, so he paused in the doorway and said, “Hey, that wasn’t supposed to be a cheap pickup line.”
Her cheeks were pink, but she gave him a smile. “We’ve already established that you can pick me up, remember?”
“You are correct,” he replied, but then looked down at her feet. “We will have to do something about shoes. That might be a little tougher.”
“I’m sure we can come up with something if we put our heads together.”
“Yeah, we’ll think of something,” Jesse answered, but envisioned a much more physical reason for putting their heads together, like kissing, for instance. “Damn,” Jesse whispered as he entered his bedroom. There was no way he could take advantage of the situation, he thought while he unbuttoned his shirt and then shucked his jeans.