Here Carlie was again, his angel, coming to his rescue. His lips curved up at that thought. It could just be coincidence that this was what she'd planned to cook, but he figured as thoughtful as she was, she'd made things that she thought wouldn't be so hard on his throat when he swallowed. Like mashed potatoes. For him, not for Rick. Even the rolls were soft, not crusty.
"Derek? Are you all right?"
Carlie's voice brought him out of his thoughts. She reached out to touch his hand and he tensed.
"Yeah...I'm fine. This is really good, Carlie."
"Thanks," she responded, but he could see she was wondering about his lack of appetite.
Just then, Rick's cell phone rang. He excused himself and went into the living room to take the call.
"Uh-oh," Carlie murmured.
There was no doubt from hearing Rick's side of the conversation that he was going to have to cut dinner short. In a few seconds, he re-entered the dining room, an apologetic look on his face.
"Gotta go?" Derek asked.
"They've got three alarms out already on this one. Looks like some kind of accelerant was used. It's an apartment complex they stopped working on last May when the company folded." He shook his head.
"Insurance money," Derek said, taking a bite of potatoes. "Want me to ride along?"
Rick grinned. "Nice try. No, you stay here and get well. If I don't see you again before Friday, you two have a Merry Christmas. And thanks for dinner, Carlie."
"You're welcome." She waved a goodbye as he picked up his coat and hurried out the door, leaving Derek and Carlie alone.
Derek's heart pounded oddly in what felt like anticipation. He sat forward in his chair, meeting her eyes, and saw the reflection of his own uncertain emotions there.
"Well, it certainly sounds bad." Carlie looked down at her plate. "Thank goodness the complex was empty." She offered a tentative smile as she stood up, reaching for Derek's plate.
"I'll get it." He didn't want her waiting on him like he was an invalid.
She shook her head. "Nope. You just rest for a minute or two while I clear the table. Then, we're going to go tree shopping."
He couldn't help but smile at her childlike excitement. She seemed so happy, just looking forward to something simple like buying a tree. "They're probably picked over by now," he said teasingly.
"Maybe I'll find a bargain," she replied saucily.
Derek laughed. "We better get going. I'll have to get it into the stand and—hey, do you have a bucket we can put some sand and water in? If we can stand it up in that, it'll last longer."
Eagerly, Carlie nodded. "I do. I actually had a real tree um...about five or six years ago. Of course, I had to do all that myself. My husband, Dan, wasn't into Christmas." She gave a short laugh and Derek could hear the self-deprecation in it. "I wish I'd known that before I married him."
Derek stood up, careful not to look at her. The hurt in her voice made him want to go find Dan and kick his ass. He picked up two of the bowls. "Dan sounds like a real prince."
"He was." She cocked her head caustically. "Or at least, he thought he was. We weren't married long. Two years."
She looked so alone, standing in front of the sink, trying to keep her voice steady. She turned to face him, a too-bright smile on her luscious lips as she pushed the memories away. "I have to get a coat." She started past him, and then stopped, looking up into his eyes. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Thanks so much for going with me."
For a moment, Derek couldn't speak. She was thanking him? If she'd only known just how much he dreaded Christmas this year! In the short time he'd known Carlie Thomas, she'd not only erased the dread, she'd brought back some of the holiday spirit into his life—something he thought could never happen again.
He reached out and laid his palm against her cheek. "You shouldn't be thanking me, Carlie. I'm the one who's monopolizing your hospitality." She started to protest, but he shook his head. "Christmas...may not be the best time for us to have met."
Surprising him, she put her hand over his, holding it close to her face. "I'm thinking—it's the very best time of all, Derek. Are you sure you feel up to Christmas tree shopping?"
He smiled at the concern in her eyes. It had been a long time since any woman other than Carlie had looked at him like this. He could get used to it. "If we don't go, you'll have to take the last one left. It'll be a Charlie Brown Christmas tree."
Carlie's eyes rounded. "I'll hurry. Can you be ready in five minutes?"
He stepped back to let her by, fighting down the urge to kiss her. If you do, you'll ruin everything. It's too soon. Too soon. He forced the teasing note into his tone. "Lady, I'm ready now. Let me grab my jacket."
Chapter Four
An hour later, they were headed home, the Christmas tree in the back of Carlie's pickup. Derek was content to let her drive, though she'd offered him the keys.
"I'm on pain medication, Nurse," he'd quipped. "You're a trusting soul to offer me those keys to your Silverado, but I think I'll save both our lives. Maybe by tomorrow or Wednesday I'll be able to take you up on that with a clear conscience."
The trees, as he predicted, were sadly picked over. But they found a Scotch pine that had a nice shape to it. They settled on that one, even though it wasn't quite as tall as Carlie would've liked.
"I know you're thinking I told you so," she muttered as she pulled out her wallet.
"I'm buying," he answered, handing the clerk his bankcard before Carlie could protest.
"Derek—" She turned to look up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you. What a nice thing to do."
Oddly, her sincere appreciation of something so ordinary touched his heart, and he began to feel it opening to her, feel his emotions stirring and reawakening. It made him feel more than a little awkward. He had something he wanted to say to her, but not here. So he made a joke of it.
"I get like that once a year."
She laughed slipping her arm though his. "I bet it happens more often than that—you being a nice guy."
"Shh. Don't tell anyone."
Now, as they drove the few blocks back to Carlie's house, Derek could feel the happiness emanating from her. She hummed under her breath as she drove. We Wish You a Merry Christmas. He smiled at her enthusiasm.
They turned into her driveway, and she stopped. "Let's unload it before I put the truck in the garage. It'll be easier that way."
Once the tree was inside, they maneuvered it into the stand and put it in the water-and-sand filled bucket they prepared. Carlie draped white cotton bunting around the bottom, and Derek sat watching her carefully arrange it.
"My mom used to do that," he murmured softly.
Carlie turned, looking over her shoulder at him from under the tree. "Really? Mine did, too. We never had a real tree skirt. But it was fine." She pulled a fold of the cotton, straightening it. "I always loved the white cotton with the glittery sparkles on it. We seldom had a white Christmas in central Oklahoma. It was a miracle if that ever happened."
"I grew up here, too. In Wewoka."
"Our arch rivals." Carlie scooted out from under the tree. "I'm from Seminole."
Derek leaned back on the couch in mock horror. "No."
Carlie grinned. "Did you play football?" She was taking the old-fashioned lights out of a green plastic crate and the serious concentration in her features made him smile and answer before he thought.
"My brother did. Jared. He loved it. He wanted to play in college, but he blew out his kneecap his senior year. He...had a lot of talent." Shit. Now she'd want to ask questions that he didn't want to answer.
"You all were very close. I can hear it in your voice." She said it matter-of-factly as she began clipping the bulbs on the tree.
"We were." Derek swallowed hard. "I miss him, you know? Man, it doesn't seem like it's been a year—"
She turned to face him and let the lights dangle from where she'd begun to hang them. In three strides she'd crossed the small space, and knelt
in front of where he sat on the couch.
"I am so sorry. I'm sorry for your loss—such a terrible thing— unimaginable." She took one of his hands between hers, shaking her head. "I have a brother. He's two years older than I am. I wouldn't know what to do if I lost him."
"I don't either, Carlie. I still don't know what to do. How to...be." He leaned forward, close to her, falling into the deep velvet pools of her eyes. There was only a space of inches between them. He wanted to kiss her, to taste the honesty, the excitement, and the wonderful essence that was Carlie Thomas.
From the way she was looking at him, she wanted that, too. But he didn't do it. Because when they kissed the first time, he wanted it to be untainted by sorrow or sadness. He didn't want it to be from some misguided sense of comfort or pity.
"You...need some help with the lights?" He nodded at her beginning efforts. "We'll get done quicker if we work together."
"I'd love it, but only if you feel like it, Derek." She stood up, walking back to the tree, bending to plug in the lights as she passed the outlet. "We still have to do your breathing treatment."
He came to his feet, putting up his hands in surrender. "Busted. I am so busted. I really hate those things. I was hoping you'd forget." He followed her, standing on the opposite side of the tree.
She laughed and passed the string of lights around to him. "Not likely."
"I know." He grinned. "You take good care of me." His smile faded at the unfamiliar look of tenderness that stole over her as she stood, her face framed by the haphazard string of lights.
"I would if you let me." The room was quiet for a long moment. He clipped the next bulb in place. Then, wordlessly, he came around to her side of the tree, pulling her to him. His arms enfolded her, holding her close. "Start now." His mouth slanted hotly over hers, and she opened for him as his tongue entered her.
She moaned, melting even closer to his body.
He was hard for her, pressing into her. If she'd wondered about his desire for her, all doubts could now be laid to rest, he thought wryly. So much for subtlety. But he'd never been very good at that anyway.
She suckled his lower lip, and he cupped her cute little butt, pulling her next to his rock hard arousal.
He began to unbutton her shirt, and she didn't stop him. She had to be feeling this unbelievable connection between them as strongly as he was. He knew he'd been set up by good old Rick. His captain. His boss.
And he didn't give a damn.
Her fingers were busy at his belt buckle, then his zipper.
He lifted his lips from hers, looking down into her face, lit with a soft glow. "Carlie, you sure, baby?" His voice came out rough and gravelly, something he'd like to blame on his raw lungs and throat, but he knew was caused by the emotions that raged through him.
She nodded in response. "You?"
His lips quirked in a half-grin as her fingertips found the hot length of him, then wrapped around him. "You don't have to ask." No man in his right mind would think twice about having Carlie Thomas in his bed.
And no man but him ever would have her in his bed, after tonight.
She took his hand and led him to the pit-style living room couch. They sank down on the plush, buttery-soft brown leather, his lips moving searchingly across hers again, seeking the affirmation he needed, and finding it in her kiss. After a few seconds, he stood up quickly and shrugged out of his clothes, as Carlie did the same. She lay back down again, holding her arms out to him.
He put a knee on the leather, then came atop her, his body covering hers once more, the bandaging at his ribs the only place they weren't totally skin-to-skin. Beneath him, she was soft and warm and welcoming. Her hands found their way into his hair, across his back, and then lower as she opened her legs for him and guided him to her.
He slid into her easily, shuddering as pleasure rocked through his body. She gasped softly, her fingertips curving into his skin briefly.
As he moved to look down at her, she smiled at him, her uncertainty tearing at his heart. He held her cradled in his arms, and not moving was the hardest thing he'd ever done. "All right?"
She nodded and sank her teeth into her lower lip. "Yes. It's just— Derek, I—"
"Shh." He bent to her and kissed her as he began to move slowly inside her, until she responded. Then he raised his lips a hairsbreadth and whispered, "It's been a long time for me, too, Carlie. And I don't know what spell you put on me, but you're magic to me. Everything good and beautiful."
She nodded, smiling this time. "That's how I feel too."
He buried his face against the curve of her neck, nipping gently at the soft skin, inhaling the fresh scent of her shampoo as her silky hair teased his nose.
She surged up against him, and he pushed himself inside her, the silken thrust and drag almost unbearably sweet. Her hands explored him gently, yet with a mixture of wonder and hungry want he'd never felt with any other woman before.
"Carlie—I'm close—" And it was a damn good thing, since his lungs were burning like hell from the exertion.
She wrapped her legs around his, urging him to completion. "I know," she murmured huskily. "Me, too."
Derek started to pull out, the realization that he'd used no protection hitting him just as Carlie wriggled beneath him, bringing him deeper inside her. He felt his heart melt, and realized something else. He was in love—unbelievably, totally captivated—with this beautiful angel. In only a few short hours, she had stolen his resolve to remain aloof and cool during his stay with her, replacing it with a burning desire, and a need so all-consuming it was anything but 'aloof.'
Then, there was no time left for either of them as Carlie cried out his name. He caught her cry in a kiss, giving himself up to the shattering climax that rushed over him in a rippling, glittering maelstrom of desire, and heat, and need.
Chapter Five
Dear Lord. What have I done? Carlie didn't open her eyes. She wanted to savor the guilty, seductive pleasure of Derek's sweat-sheened, muscular body atop hers. Because surely, once she opened her eyes, he would pick up his clothing and come up with some excuse to go home. He'd left a load of clothes in the dryer. He'd forgotten to turn off his computer. Maybe he needed to hurry home and cover his grill. After all, there was a fifty percent chance of snow tonight. Like that was going to happen.
One thing she knew about Derek Pierce. He was not ready for any kind of commitment. Was it wrong of her to want that? They barely knew one another—or so it seemed. Yet, she'd felt connected to him from the moment he'd been brought into the emergency room. Now, she had ruined whatever chance they might have had by—by practically throwing herself at him. She had never acted so spontaneously. It scared the living hell out of her.
He rose up on his elbows, still inside her. She finally opened her eyes. Might as well get it over with. Any explanation would sound ridiculous. Crazy. How could she tell him...she loved him?
Derek was watching her closely. He shifted his weight off her, withdrawing himself gently. A sigh of disappointment escaped her, and she was mortified when he actually chuckled.
"The night's young, Miss Thomas."
"Derek, I have some things I want to—to say to you." She kept her eyes averted as she started to sit up.
He put a staying hand on her shoulder. "Wait. I'll be right back."
Carlie relaxed back against the sofa, tears stinging her eyelids. Why did she always have to make a mess of things? Dan had been right when he'd accused her of that. It seemed like she could never please him. She was forever doing the wrong thing. This was something else in her long line of mistakes—allowing a near-stranger to make love to her here in her living room. They hadn't even made it to the bed, she thought ruefully.
Why did it feel so right? It hadn't felt wrong at all. It still didn't.
"Carlie?"
She opened her eyes to see Derek standing beside her. He'd slipped on his jeans. Obviously preparing to leave her.
But instead, he knelt beside her on t
he floor and laid a small package down beside him. In his other hand, he held a dampened washrag. "Here. Let me take care of you now." He parted her legs and ran the warm cloth across her still-sensitive flesh, soothing and cleansing her.
"Derek—" Her cheeks flushed at the sweetness of the intimacy.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he reassured her. "Let me do this." He continued gently until he'd finished, then laid the cloth aside. "I wanted to give you something," he said. "I thought I'd do it tomorrow, but maybe now would be a better time."
She nodded stiffly, still unsure of his intentions.
He reached for the box.
"I don't really know how to say what I want to tell you, Carlie. I'm afraid it's going to sound—crazy. I don't want to scare you."
Hope fluttered in Carlie's heart. Maybe she hadn't screwed things up after all. Would he really be worried about scaring her if he didn't care?
Sitting up, she pulled the crocheted afghan that lay on the arm of the couch over her legs and stomach. He held the small, gift-wrapped box out to her, the silver and blue bow jiggling as a bell tinkled. She took the box, enthralled by the lovely wrapping, the small bells that adorned the ribbon mingling in merry profusion.
"It's beautiful!" She looked across at him where he knelt at eye-level. "But when did you have time to get this?"
He laughed, pleased with her reaction. "They released me earlier than they first told me. So I had an hour to kill before Rick got there. I don't—" He swallowed hard and glanced down before meeting her eyes again, "—I don't have a lot of gifts to buy—not anymore. It's just me, now. But, I saw this in the hospital gift shop and thought maybe you'd like it."
"I already like it," she whispered softly as the bells tinkled again, revealing the unsteady shaking of her hand. "It's from you."
He gave her a slow, heart-stopping smile, excitement lighting his eyes as he motioned for her to open it.
Carefully, she removed the bow, laying it and the bells on the couch beside her. She pulled the blue and silver paper from the box, her fingers trembling.
White Christmas Page 2