A Kiss for Christmas

by Melody Grace

  The man groaned. “Look at you, cracking the whip. All you need is some leather, and you could charge double.” He winked, gathering empty glasses, and Ellie laughed again, her eyes sparkling in the firelight.

  Dash looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out if they were friends – or something more. “Nice guy,” he remarked, when the bartender had left.

  “Hmm? Oh, Riley’s great. Terrible book-keeping though,” Ellie added. “His girlfriend, Brooke, is more organized, at least.”

  Dash relaxed. With the fire, the whiskey, and a beautiful woman sitting across from him, things were starting to look up. Now, if only that muse would come out of hiding and help a guy out.

  “Do you miss it?” Ellie asked suddenly, gazing at him over the table. “England, I mean. You’re a long way from home.”

  “Sometimes,” Dash answered slowly. “But not as much as I thought I would. I moved over when I was twenty-two, I didn’t know a soul. I’d just signed with a manager off one of my short films, and suddenly, I was right there in the middle of it all. Hollywood.” He remembered how green he’d been, just a wide-eyed kid with his dreams finally in reach. “As soon as I was off the plane, they sent me out on a bunch of meetings. That’s how it works,” he explained, “you go meet all these producers and studio execs, chit-chat, and try to pitch to get a job.”

  “Were you nervous?” Ellie asked, still watching him closely. “Starting over like that, somewhere nobody knew your name.”

  “Petrified,” Dash admitted. “I was way over my head, I didn’t have a clue. I would babble on about the wrong thing, or wind up insulting a movie they’d worked on. One of the guys I met even called up my manager, said I seemed to have some talent, but they shouldn’t let me near another meeting until I’d taken some Xanax!”

  “They didn’t!” Ellie laughed.

  “Yup,” he shook his head. “But, that’s how it works, I guess, you stumble around for long enough, and eventually you figure it out. I managed to scrape together some financing for my first movie, this small indie thing, and then when that got some attention, I was able to level up for the next one.”

  “I saw it,” Ellie said, her voice even.

  Dash paused. “Do I want to know what you thought? Remember, my ego’s easily bruised.”

  He was only half-kidding. That movie meant a lot to him, they all did. When you pour your heart and soul into a story for years, obsessing over every word, and every scene, it was hard not to take it personally. He’d toughened up when it came to the critics, he knew he couldn’t please everyone, but this was different.

  He’d only met her a few hours ago, but suddenly, her opinion mattered.

  She thought for a moment. “I liked it.”

  But there was a note of hesitation in her voice. Dash narrowed his eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Believe me, I wouldn’t lie. Your ego doesn’t need any help from me.” She grinned, and even though it wasn’t exactly true, Dash laughed along. “I liked that it felt…real,” she said finally. “Sometimes in movies, it’s just like a spectacle, pure escapism, but those characters seemed like real people.”

  Dash exhaled a sigh of relief. “That’s the biggest compliment you can give a writer,” he confided. “Thank you.”

  She shrugged, but there was a small smile teasing on the edge of her lips.

  He wanted to kiss it right off.

  Down, boy.

  He quickly took a gulp of his drink, too fast, and coughed as the scalding liquid hit his throat.

  “Are you OK?” Ellie looked concerned as he spluttered.

  “Uh huh.” He swallowed, recovering. “Fine. Just dandy, thanks.”

  Dandy?

  He pulled himself together, and inhaled the rest of his food, trying to focus on anything other than the beautiful woman across from him—who was looking more kissable by the minute.

  Where the hell was this coming from? Sure, she was gorgeous and smart, and funny—but Ellie clearly couldn’t be less interested in him if she was waving a neon sign saying, “Back Off.” She’d sent him out in the woods to freeze to death rather than spend another minute talking earlier, and even though she seemed to have warmed up a couple of degrees since then, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t push him into a snow drift if he even tried to slip his hands around that slim waist and pull her closer…

  Never mind hypothermia, she’d probably cut his hands off.

  And then how would Dash write his script?

  They finished up their food without Dash doing anything stupid—and potentially life-threatening—and headed back outside. It was pitch black and cold out, but with the festive lights around town and the whiskey still warming his bloodstream, it was a good kind of chill. Dash pulled his coat tighter, and took a look around. The sound of carols was coming from the square, with people gathered around the massive Christmas tree.

  “Want to take a look?” he asked, nodding towards the festivities.

  “I’ve seen it every year,” Ellie replied, but she still fell into step beside him, making their way carefully over the salted sidewalks, past store windows crammed with Christmas trinkets.

  “I guess even a winter wonderland loses its appeal after long enough,” Dash asked.

  “No,” Ellie said quickly, “I love it, I do. Just…it would be nice to spend the holidays somewhere else for a change. To be somewhere else at all.”

  She slipped suddenly and grabbed his arm for balance. Dash held her in close for a moment. “You OK?”

  Her body was warm against his, and Dash catch the scent of her shampoo for just a second—something citrus and light cutting through the scent of roasting chestnuts in the air. Then she stepped away.

  “I’m fine. Thanks,” she said, sounding breathless as she found her footing again. But she didn’t drop his arm; she kept her gloved hand nestled in the crook of Dash’s elbow, and somehow, it felt so natural, he didn’t even think twice. They kept strolling, but every few steps, someone stopped to say hello.

  “Ellie, sweetheart, how are your parents getting on?” an older woman with a walking stick asked, beaming affectionately.

  “They’re great, thanks, Debra. Enjoying the sun!”

  “They deserve it. You know they’re forecasting more snow tonight?”

  Ellie looked up at the sky. “They’ve got the right idea, off in the Caribbean.”

  “You send my love!” Debra limped off, replaced by a new stream of local well-wishers in the square. It seemed like Ellie knew everyone in town.

  “Happy holidays!”

  “You must come by for some fruitcake later.”

  “Did you need me to bring some more wood by the inn?”

  Dash waited until a quiet moment in the caroling. “Someone’s popular,” he note. “I don’t even know my neighbors back in LA. The guy taking my order at the coffee shop still screws up my name.”

  She laughed. “Like I said, I’ve spent my whole life here. Plus, I’ve worked with pretty much everyone in town.”

  “At the inn?”

  “No, book-keeping,” she explained. “Debra owns the gift shop, and then there’s Summer at the bakery, Grayson down at the bookstore, Larry at the hardware store…”

  Dash whistled. “You’re a one-woman accounting machine.”

  Ellie looked bashful. “I know it’s not glamorous, but I like organizing things. Getting all the details worked out.” She gave a proud little smile, looking around at the town businesses she’d whipped into shape. And then Dash realized the reason she was still there in Sweetbriar Cove, why she hadn’t taken off yet, despite all her wistful talk about travel and warmer climates and being anywhere but here.

  She liked being needed.

  There in town, they knew her. They appreciated her. She couldn’t walk down the street without a friendly smile or conversation, and coming from a big city where he’d spent years being completely anonymous, Dash could see how comforting that would be.
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  The carols started back up, sweet music drifting into the winter’s night, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore, because suddenly, the character he’d been trying to write clicked into place. Not the lead guy, but the girl who turned his life upside down. Dash had thought she was a reckless femme fatale: stuck in her small town and restless for danger, but now, he could see her in a whole new light. A new character, with a new face.

  Ellie’s.

  The spitfire with a soft side. Longing to leave, but scared to go. Clinging to the comforting routines of the past, no matter how much her heart yearned for something more adventurous. It was all right there in front of him: five foot six of bulky snow gear, with silky hair and sparkling blue eyes. His muse wasn’t some abstract metaphor—it was her, all along.

  Ellie caught his eye. “Ready to make a move?” she asked. It was already starting to snow, a light dusting of flakes spiraling down out of the dark.

  “Sure.” Dash couldn’t have been more ready. For the first time in months, his fingertips were tingling, just itching to get back to his keyboard and write. He followed her back to the Jeep, his mind still racing. Everything was falling into place now: a chain reaction set off by one little creative spark. He could see the whole story, the scenes, the drama… It unspooled in his head all the drive back to the inn, every last detail he’d been trying to force to life coming easily now. The way it was supposed to be.

  He yanked open the Jeep door as soon as she pulled up at the inn, practically leaping down in his haste to get back to his laptop before the idea was lost.

  “Are you going to be OK in the cabin?” Ellie asked, hesitating by the door of the main lodge. “It’s going to be another cold one tonight with this snow…”

  “I’ll be fine!” Dash insisted, impatient to get back to work. “I’ve got the stove and my whiskey. What more does a man need?”

  “Well, OK…” A shadow flit across Ellie’s face. She turned back towards the door, her voice becoming more curt. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  He was being rude, Dash knew, just brushing her off after their great evening together, but he didn’t mean to be. She didn’t realize, she’d already given him the most valuable thing of all.

  Inspiration.

  Adrenaline flooded through his body, ready to get to work, to write like crazy before he lost this spark. But first…

  Before he could stop himself, Dash closed the distance between them and spun her back towards him. Ellie’s eyes flashed with surprise, her cheeks flushed from the cold, her lips parted, inviting.

  She was beautiful: hot and wild, and unlike anyone he’d ever met. He should have kept his distance, but with inspiration still hot in his veins, Dash took a page from his hero’s book instead.

  He kissed her.

  Ellie froze against him, then yielded, soft and warm in the cold night air. Her lips parted, sweet as hot cocoa, and he hungrily drank her in.

  It was intoxicating. Wilder than whiskey, sweeter than sunshine. Dash couldn’t get enough.

  He pulled her closer, crushing her tight against his torso. Their mouths teased, tongues caressing in a slow, hot embrace. There were layers of bulky clothing between them, but Dash could still feel her heat, the imprint of her curves and the rush from her touch. He kissed deeper, sliding his hands around her waist, right where they belonged—

  She suddenly yanked away. “What are you—?” Ellie stammered, breathing heavily. Her eyes were still bright with desire, her lips even redder from the imprint of my kiss. “I don’t…” She backed away. “I mean, I can’t…”

  She stared at him, wide-eyed for a moment, and Dash could have sworn he saw her gaze go to his mouth again. Her breathing slowed, her eyelashes fluttered… He was about to reach for her again when she shook her head abruptly.

  “Goodnight.” She hurried back inside. The door slammed shut behind her with a bang, leaving Dash alone in the snow.

  Damnit.

  He cursed himself for screwing this up, for making the wrong move when she clearly wanted him to stay away. But if that were true, why did she kiss him back? Why were her hands up around his neck, pulling him closer, her lips eagerly exploring Dash’s mouth?

  He exhaled, trying to snap out of it. He didn’t know what just happened, only that he needed it to happen again—and soon. But with the door locked tight behind her, it didn’t look like Ellie agreed.

  Dash turned and started the careful trek back around the lake in the snow. But with every step, the memory of Ellie’s kiss came flashing through his mind. Her lips. Her touch. Her body…

  Between that and the script waiting, something told him that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

  Chapter 5

  What the hell just happened?

  Ellie drifted through the rest of the evening in a daze: chatting to the other guests, dealing with the day’s receipts, shutting down the computer and heading upstairs to their family apartment. But all the while, her mind was far away—thirty feet, to be exact, out on that front porch with Dash Everett’s lips pressed hungrily against hers.

  Lord, that guy could kiss.

  She couldn’t believe it—that he made a move out of nowhere like that, and worse, how she had just surrendered to the moment without a single ounce of sense in her brain. One minute it seemed like he couldn’t wait to get away from her, and the next, he was pulling her closer for the most epic kiss she’d had in years. Since…

  Since Ethan.

  Ellie stopped, reality crashing through the heated memory like an ice-cold dip in the pond.

  She’d been there before. She knew how this ended. He would go back across the country once his trip was up, and she would be left there all over again. She had her “no tourist” rule for a reason, and that reason was six foot of dashing British hotness right across the lake.

  Even if he was smart, and handsome, and funny.

  Even if he did kiss like a man with something to prove.

  He was off limits. End of story.

  And she was going to bed alone.

  Five hours later, Ellie was tucked in bed staring at the ceiling, still imagining Dash’s lips on her. It had been snowing hard all night, and the muffled sound of the wind usually made her sleep like a baby, but tonight, she was restless, tossing and turning, too amped up to do anything except replay the moment—and then take it further. Inviting him in, asking him upstairs, having him join her in the cozy guest room…

  In her king-sized bed.

  Down, girl. Bad Ellie.

  She wondered how Dash was dealing, out in that cabin with just that tiny stove. Guilt crept in the back of her mind. Sure, he said he could handle the snow, but she was guessing he never expected it to come down like this: a whirlwind of pale flakes spinning from the black sky. Ellie opened the window for some fresh air, and was hit with a blast of icy air so cold she had to slam it shut right away. She shivered, pulling her blanket around her, glad to be tucked safely indoors with the heating on and a pair of thick fluffy socks underneath her layers of blankets.

  Her guilt grew. What if he was freezing half to death out there? If it were any other guest, Ellie would have insisted they bunk down in the apartment by now. Just because she didn’t trust herself around him, that didn’t mean he deserved to wind up a human popsicle by dawn.

  She sighed and threw off the covers, reaching for her clothes again. This was purely professional, she told herself. Her parents had left her to be a good host, and that meant not leaving the guests to die of hypothermia. But just as she was pulling on a sweater, Ellie heard a muffled banging noise from downstairs. Someone was at the door.

  She hurried down, turning all the lights back on.

  “Hello?” Ellie pulled the door open, and a snow-covered figure came stumbling in with a duffel bag. Dash.

  “I was just coming to get you!” she exclaimed, shutting the door quickly behind him. “I’m sorry, you can sleep here tonight. I should never have rented that cabin to you in the first
place. It’s not cut out for this weather.”

  “You can say that again.” Dash stomped his boots and shook off the snow. His dark hair was damp with melted flakes, and his cheeks were red from the cold. And his lips…

  His lips.

  The feel of them flashed back to her, the heat and pure desire of being pressed tightly against him. Ellie shivered at the memory, then tried to ignore the fantasies that had been spinning in her head all night.

  What else could that mouth do…?

  She shook her head, trying to focus on what he was saying. “I should sue,” Dash was telling her, “for the injuries sustained trying to make that bloody stove light, for starters.”

  Sue? She looked at him anxiously, worried he really was upset, but he seemed weirdly upbeat considering he’d spent half the night in a frigid cabin of doom. Ellie led him upstairs, wondering for a moment if this was all pretext, a ruse to get inside with her and pick up right where they left off.

  Her pulse kicked. Had he been up all night thinking the same scandalous thoughts as her?

  “You seem in a pretty good mood, considering,” she said evenly, showing him into their living room.

  “I’ve been writing.” Dash announced with a triumphant grin. “Thirty-five bloody pages, I’m on a roll!”

  “You beat your writer’s block? Congratulations!”

  She was happy for him, but Ellie still felt a little pull of disappointment. She’d been up for hours poring over that kiss, but clearly he hadn’t given it a second thought.

  “I would have written more,” Dash said, sounding amped up. “But my fingers started to seize up from the cold. Ah, central heating,” he sighed, collapsing on the couch. “Winds from the gods!”

  She smiled, glad at least he wasn’t still shivering in the dark cabin. “You’re welcome to it. I’m not sure where to put you,” she added. “We rented out my parents master suite, and my sister’s room is kind of small—”

  “I’m good right here.” Dash leaned back into the cushions “And if you can point me to a kettle and a bag of tea, I’ll be set for the night.”