12 Days (Hope Harbor)

by Karla Doyle

  She’d never been the type of person to buy more than she needed, but she might have to get this sweater in a few more colors. Totally justifiable.

  “Whatever put that smile on your face, keep thinking about it,” he said, shifting to tuck his wallet away in his jeans pocket.

  “Oh, was I smiling?” She batted her eyelashes for effect.

  “Yeah. Nothing looks better on you than that smile.” He winked. “Not even that sweater.” Once again, he’d left her flabbergasted and speechless. His grin told her he knew it, too. Chuckling, he rose and stepped to her side, lifting her coat from the back of her chair, then holding it for her to shrug into. Something he’d been doing since she slipped on ice and broke her arm ten years ago. Old habits were harder to break than girly arms.

  “Thanks,” she said, sliding each arm into its respective sleeve.

  He nodded, but didn’t make a move. He just stood there, filling up her personal space and looking down at her with green eyes she could pick out of a lineup. So close, she dared not breathe too deeply, because it might cause her chest to expand and touch his.

  “Are you waiting for something?”

  “Yeah, but I think it’ll have to wait a while longer.” He tugged the edges of her coat, brushing her waist with his knuckles. “Ready to go?”

  And give up this close contact? Never. She nodded anyway, because it was the only answer.

  He moved away to grab his coat, shrugging into it with the smoothness of a runway model. He’d kill her if she made that comparison aloud. Kelly was a man’s man. A guy who didn’t bow to style trends or worry about missing a shaving day. It didn’t matter what he wore, or didn’t wear—she’d seen him that way, too—he was mouthwateringly gorgeous. And he was her best friend. Period.

  That fact didn’t stop her heart from skipping several beats when he put both hands on her waist while walking behind her. He’d never shied away from physical contact with her, but he sure as heck hadn’t initiated it like this before.

  Friend, friend, friend. She repeated the word in her head as they made their way through the restaurant. If she allowed herself to think his gesture meant anything more than close friendship, she’d be at the bottom of hope hill. Again. Not a place she wanted to be, especially at this point in her life.

  For now, though, the hottest, nicest guy she’d ever met has his hands on her waist, in plain view of anyone in one of Hope Harbor’s busiest restaurants. He didn’t seem to care what people might think and neither did she. Whatever had spurred this new variety of affection, she was going with it. And loving every second.

  Chapter 4

  December 14

  KELLY

  He’d openly flirted throughout dinner. Held her hand. Put his arm around her.

  She hadn’t reacted negatively to any of it. However, she also hadn’t given him any indication she’d like him to go further.

  There’d been the briefest moment of maybe-this-is-it while they waited for his truck’s windshield to defrost. Seeing her shiver, he’d shifted in his seat, taken her hands between his and warmed them with his breath. The air had electrified when their gazes met. He’d inched closer, ready to kiss the hell out of her pretty, parted lips. Her eyes had opened wider but she hadn’t moved.

  Until some damn yahoo knocked on the passenger window. She’d nearly leapt out of her skin at the unexpected noise.

  “You coming or going?” the interrupter had asked, through the glass.

  “Going,” Kelly had said, clicking his seatbelt into place. Based on Addie’s silence and the panicked expression on her face through the duration of their ride home, he wasn’t likely to be coming anytime soon. He was okay with that. Waiting for sex was no big deal, he wasn’t an asshole. He’d be happy to take his time wooing Adeline, if he had the time to take.

  With less than two weeks until Christmas, he had to move fast. Make Addie see what he’d been blind to until yesterday—they should be together. Really together. They should be exchanging sexy gifts, not buying them for other people. Now that he’d realized that, there was no going back. Today wasn’t over yet. He still had eleven days, and he planned to maximize every one of them.

  He pulled into the driveway, dropping his hand on her knee after killing the engine. “Sit tight, I’ll get your door.”

  “I’m fine. It’s not slippery tonight.”

  “I’m not worried you’re going to fall.” He was more worried that she wouldn’t fall. For him. “I just want to treat you right.”

  She tilted her head. “You always have. No door opening required.”

  “Then I want to treat you better.” He slid his hand a couple inches higher, with enough firmness to ensure she noticed the upward move. “The way a beautiful woman should be treated.”

  “Are you practicing on me, or something?” Her nervous giggled filled the crew cab. “Not that you need to practice anything. I’m sure you’ve had plenty of practice at everything.”

  Of course, she’d assume he was goofing around. He’d never given her a reason to think otherwise. Hell, the only time he’d ever placed a hand on her leg was to give her a friendly tap while getting up from the couch, because it was his turn to refill the popcorn bowl on movie nights. He had a lot of ground to cover for Addie to interpret his gesture the way he’d intended.

  He sighed and withdrew his hand. “Don’t touch the door, I’m getting it.” Cold smacked him in the face as he stepped out, into the night air. A wakeup smack, which he greatly needed. He’d assumed Addie would reciprocate his feelings immediately. That she’d swoon and throw herself into his arms, just because he’d opened them. Arrogant, overconfident ass.

  He schooled his emotions, pushing the frustration and well-earned self-loathing aside, replacing the scowl tugging at his face with a smile.

  “Thank you,” she said, accepting the hand he offered after opening her door. “And I’m sorry for laughing. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just not used to you treating me like…this.”

  “Like a date.”

  “I guess so.”

  “It was a statement, not a question. I’ve been treating you like my date and you’re not used to it.”

  “Okay, yes, that’s what I meant.”

  Good, they were finally getting somewhere. Now, if only she’d meet his eyes, instead of looking everywhere except his face. Baby steps.

  “Come on, date.” He tugged her hand and led her toward the house. “I’m taking you home, just like I said I was going to.”

  This time, when she laughed, it was natural. Carefree. As was the shoulder bump she gave him while they walked. Comfortable, easy contact. The kind they’d always had. “Since you brought it up, why are you treating me as if we’re on a date?”

  “Because you’re my date.”

  “Uh-huh. Okay. Whatever you say.”

  “Whatever I say?” He grinned down at her while unlocking the front door. “This date is getting better and better.”

  “Funny guy.” Their easy back-and-forth had returned, and the awkwardness was gone. Unfortunately, so was the physical contact, as she slid her hand free of his in order to remove her coat and boots. “Thanks for taking me out. It was definitely more fun than eating veggies or salad while scrolling on my phone.”

  “Hey, the night’s still young,” he said, catching her attention as she turned to walk away. “How about I make popcorn and we watch something? That Polish movie with the tall, dark-haired guy is on Netflix. I heard you talking about it with your cousin over FaceTime a couple of nights ago. We could watch that one.”

  Her big, brown eyes nearly popped out of her head. “We’re not watching that.”

  “I thought you wanted to see it.”

  “I do. But…not with you.”

  “Why not?” he asked, moving toward her. “I always enjoy the movies you choose.”

  “Well, I’m not choosing that one.” Her cheeks flamed as he closed the distance between them, a gasp escaping her lips when her attempt to back
up resulted in her backside meeting the living room wall.

  “What if I choose it? Will you watch it with me then?” He couldn’t help grinning when she shook her head frantically. He knew exactly why she wouldn’t watch that movie with him. He’d looked it up after overhearing her wine-fueled giggle session with her soon-to-be-married cousin. It was as close to porn as you could get with simulated sex. Not the kind of movie buddies watch together. Which is exactly why he’d suggested it.

  “I have to answer that,” she said, when her phone rang in her back pocket. “I’m expecting a call from…a person.”

  “Okay.” He stepped back, giving her enough space to duck away and dart for her bedroom. Spying and eavesdropping weren’t his style, but the moment she closed her door, he headed in the same direction, carefully plotting his footsteps to avoid as many creaks in the old floor as possible. Because he was totally going to eavesdrop.

  None of the casual questions he’d dropped during dinner had gotten him the information he wanted. Whoever she’d been seeing, whatever undeserving guy she intended on giving that cock ring to, she was keeping his name under wraps.

  He didn’t like it. Addie had never kept secrets from him.

  The old house he’d bought from his parents when they decided to become snowbirds still had its original hardwood, interior doors. Doors that’d been painted and repainted a dozen times in his lifetime alone. They were dented, scratched, and solid as fuck.

  Despite having his ear pressed to the surface, all he could hear was her muffled voice and periodic bursts of giggling. Great sounds that’d be even better if he were on the receiving end.

  His gut tightened as she erupted in another round of laughter. Some other guy was responsible for her lighthearted mood. As much as he wanted to be happy she was happy, he couldn’t be. Not now that he’d woken up and smelled the roses that’d been growing in his garden all along.

  He abandoned his post, grabbed a beer from the kitchen, then dropped his sorry ass onto the couch Addie had helped him choose. This was his house, had been his entire life. Yet, everywhere he looked, he saw Adeline’s influence. Her presence. This was her house too. More to the point, it was their house.

  He’d be damned before he’d let her fall in love with someone else and move out. Before he’d concede and let her give that cock ring to whoever was making her laugh behind the bedroom door. That guy was temporary. By the time Christmas Day rolled around, he’d be history.

  Scanning the room again, his gaze landed on the mistletoe she’d hung from the center of the entryway doorframe. She hung it there every year. He’d never kissed anybody beneath it. He’d never seen her make use of it, either. That was going to change. A lot of things were. Starting tomorrow—on their second date.

  December 15

  ADELINE

  Heavenly aromas greeted Addie as she stepped into the house. She inhaled deeply while shedding her coat and boots. She’d been so busy today, she hadn’t had time to think about hunger, but she was thinking about it now. Whatever he was making, she hoped he’d made a lot.

  She followed the mouthwatering scents to the kitchen, just in time to see Kelly in a semi-crouched, bent-over position in front of the oven. Talk about some tasty buns.

  “Hey, you’re home,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder while removing a baking pan from the lower rack. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I’m not surprised.” She tipped her head in the direction of the Bluetooth speaker, playing country music at an I’m-home-alone volume. “Good song, though.”

  “It always makes me think of you.”

  She nearly choked on the grape she’d pinched from a tray on the counter. “Ride makes you think of me?”

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t it?”

  Maybe because it was four minutes of lyrics about sex. But she couldn’t say that. Not without making a fool of herself. So, she shrugged. Lame. As self-preservation tended to be.

  He shucked the oven mitts and joined her at the counter, leaning with his hip and popping a grape into his grinning mouth. “I know Chase Rice is one of your favorite singers, so I always think of you when one of his songs comes on.”

  “Oh. That makes sense.” She turned away, searching the room for something that needed her attention.

  Kelly moved away, clearly oblivious to her wounded ego—thank God. He grabbed his phone from its position on top of an empty tomato sauce can and scrolled several times before tapping the screen. “This is the one that really gets me thinking of you.”

  She faced him again as Eyes on You floated through the speaker. “We haven’t been to any of those places,” she said, as Chase sang about the Carolinas, Montana, London, and Paris.

  “No, but we’ve been other places together. Mexico, Muskoka, Niagara Falls…” He set the phone down and returned to her side. “And the thing I remember most about all of them is being there with you.”

  “We did have a great time at those places.” A safely platonic answer that did not match the dangerously un-platonic flutter in her chest.

  “We always do.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat as the song’s lyrics played through. Nice as it was that Kelly thought about the good times they’d shared as friends vacationing together, that’s not how Chase Rice felt about the woman in this song. Chase couldn’t visualize any of the locations he sang about, because his memory was filled with images of his woman. Kelly’s sentiment was nice, but he’d missed the point of the song.

  “Remember when we stayed at the resort in Cancun, that guy that kept showing up everywhere we went, hitting on you all week long?” he asked, and she nodded. “I followed him to his room one time.”

  “Just in case I went missing, you’d know where to look for my body?”

  At the word body, his gaze swept downward, taking hers in, slowly and unapologetically. By the time his eyes returned to her face, they were dark and intent. This new version of Kelly confused the hell of out her, but good grief, he was super hot.

  She shifted foot-to-foot, squirmy and more than a little tingly between the legs. Her poor vibrator was going to take another beating tonight.

  “I’d never let anything like that happen to you.” His deep voice held its usual protectiveness, but with a possessive edge. That was new, too. “Tell me you know I will always take care of you, no matter where or when.”

  “I know that.” Congratulations to her, for getting the words out without sounding like she was halfway to orgasm.

  He moved closer, angling his six-plus feet of manliness in a way that trapped her in the small corner where the counter met the chimney, without laying a finger on her. But oh, holy night, did she want him to lay a finger on her. All his fingers, preferably. Along with the rest of his body parts.

  Her poor, poor, little vibrator. She should probably go online and order a new one. Then have it shipped to her store, to prevent further embarrassment.

  “I followed that guy to his room because I wanted to tell him to stay away from you.”

  “That’s sweet, but he was harmless.”

  “I wasn’t being sweet, Addie. And I wasn’t concerned about your safety.” Once again, his gaze dropped to the neckline of her sweater.

  “Then why?” she asked, hoping to draw his attention back to her face, before he noticed her quivering cleavage where her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest.

  “Because I didn’t want him to win you over. I didn’t want you to willingly disappear into his room.”

  “You would’ve found someone else to keep you company,” she said, doing her best impression of a light laugh. “If you look up ‘chick magnet’ in the dictionary, I’m pretty sure there’s a shirtless picture of you as the definition.”

  One of his panty-melting smiles slid into place. “Is that right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, ego man, that’s right.”

  “Does it work on you?”

  “Does what work on me?” Faker, faker. She k
new exactly what he meant. She just didn’t want to answer.

  “This.” He stepped back, his smiling face vanishing briefly as he peeled the t-shirt off his lean, solid torso.

  God, help her. His pecs, dancing before her eyes, as he flexed. His abs, cut into six lickable blocks, complete with those swoops on the side. And don’t even get her started on that small streak of dark hair that lined up perfectly with the button of his jeans. She knew where that trail led—she’d seen him walk around in his tight, white boxer briefs. His confidence in doing so was justified.

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking,” she said, forcing her gaze away from the perfection of his half-naked body. Not the best solution, since that meant looking at his devastatingly handsome face. There was going to be a lot of buzzing happening behind her bedroom door tonight.

  Two rooms away, a different buzzing filled the air. Saved by the doorbell.

  “I’ll get it,” she said, exactly in sync with Kelly’s, “I got it.”

  They stared at each other like deer in the headlights for a couple of seconds, simultaneously bursting into laughter while making a break for the door. For the briefest moment, she had the lead. Until his arm banded her waist and her feet left the ground.

  She shrieked, calling, “Put me down,” while in truth, she wouldn’t mind if he didn’t.

  Laughing, he returned her feet to the ground—behind him—and resumed their thundering race to the front door. He wasn’t so far ahead she couldn’t reach him, though, and he wasn’t the only one with tricks up his sleeve. If he had any sleeves.

  She reached out and caught him at the side of his waist, her fingertips hitting his one-and-only ticklish spot.

  “Argh, kryptonite!” he called, his momentum crashing to a halt as he twisted away from her marauding fingers.

  She crashed, too, her hot pursuit ending with their bodies plastered together, both of them laughing so hard they could barely breathe.