How long had it been since she’d danced with someone? When was the last time her heartbeat took off like a gazelle chased by a lion? For the first time in a long time, her senses came alive.
“I haven’t danced since high school.” This was unfamiliar territory. She’d been a mother for the last sixteen years and had forgotten how to dance. She’d forgotten how to be a woman.
A strange look came over his face.
“You didn’t dance at your wedding?”
“We didn’t have a wedding.” Her heart ached as if a fist were gripping it. It wasn’t because there wasn’t a white dress or a reception, or because she didn’t dance. It was because her marriage started past the finish line. “Our parents took us to get married at the courthouse in the next county over. We signed some papers, and that was it. I was pregnant and Jackson was miserable. The grownup me feels sorry for him. We had no business getting married. We weren’t in love.”
He put a finger to her lips. “Not your fault.” He drew her in until she fell into his arms. He tilted his head to the side and whispered, “I’m going to kiss you again.”
“Don’t tell me, just do it.”
His lips brushed against hers in a slow, sensuous sweep. Never had she been kissed in a way that made her knees weak. Emotionally starved, this was the affection she had longed for her entire life.
Their bodies barely moved as they pressed together. They tasted, and touched, and experienced each other in the most organic, free-flowing way. Their breaths mingled, whispering words neither could understand but somehow understood.
A timer dinged, interrupting the moment.
“I gotta flip the burgers,” he growled.
He let go so he could tend to their meal.
Celia smoothed her hair and ran her fingers over her kiss-swollen lips. She wanted to tell him to leave the burgers because she wasn't hungry for food but starving for him.
“What about you?” She walked over and leaned on the counter. “Has there been anyone in your life since high school?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
“There have been a few trials and errors, but I’m afraid business has been my lady love.”
“Does she love you back?” She understood where he was coming from. She was married to her work too. Only for her, it was a way to survive. She got the feeling that for him it went deeper.
“She’s been kind, but she doesn’t fill my bed at night.”
“What do you do exactly?”
“I make deals and develop properties.” He topped off her wine, then leaned on the counter and watched over the pan. “It had been things like strip malls and office buildings, but those are becoming a thing of the past. It’s an exercise in ingenuity to hunt down new deals.”
“Is that why you’re thinking about developing here?” She knew why. A large chunk of property had landed in his lap. When a cook gets a lobster he boils, broils, or barbecues it. When Rob gets land, he develops it. “Is it because it’s new or because you have nothing better to do?”
He let go of a full, genuine laugh.
She loved the way he looked when he smiled and let loose. Seeing his grin could almost make her forget his intention to destroy her life.
“My mother didn’t know what to do with it. I know she left it to me because I do. It’ll be good, you’ll see. The process will be quick and painless once we get the plans approved. Contrary to your beliefs, it will mean more business for you.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. Who will want to stay in a cutesy Victorian inn when they can have a shiny new place with fake snow and room service?”
“We can talk about this later.” He tugged her by a belt loop toward him. “My designer is coming into town, and you’re invited to join in the discussions. I want your input because you know Pinetop better than I do.”
He gave her a quick kiss and averted his attention back to the pan.
“Dinner is ready.”
“You’re changing the subject, Mr. McKenna.”
“I am.” He winked.
Chapter Twelve
Rob
“Come,” he said as he took their plates and walked into the great room to sit at the table in front of the window.
“And this is where any likeness to the Victorian era home ends.” She’d picked up the wine and their glasses and set them on the table.
“Are you disappointed?” He put their plates on the side facing the view. “That’s the beauty of the company I work with. You can mix and match.” He was a fan of great rooms. It made the space open and less claustrophobic. Victorians were compartmentalized, with rooms designed for specific needs. The parlor, the music room, the conservatory. That was fine too, but after a lifetime of living in a house that left him needing space and room to grow, he loved having a wide-open area.
“But your mom’s house is a true Victorian, and it’s yours.”
He drew out the chair next to his so she could sit, eat, and enjoy nature at its best. Soon the blanket of night would fall over the land and they would see nothing but a dark sky and a kaleidoscope of stars.
“I like the look of the old, but with modern amenities. You don’t find that in older homes or old towns like Pinetop.”
“What’s wrong with Pinetop?”
“Nothing,” he said. “People love quaint towns. I consider it a selling point for the resort. A resort that will create jobs for the people here. Have you considered that this might be a good thing?”
She nodded. “I have.” She sipped her wine. “What did you do with your mom’s house?”
He smiled. “Are you interested, Miss Roberts?” He turned the tables on her by calling her by her last name as she did him.
“You mean like another inn?”
“Or maybe dividing it into apartments. There are many options, but it needs a lot of work.”
He spied on their reflection in the window. They both struggled to focus on their meals. That kiss changed everything. It was filled with hope, and want, and desire. They turned to each other and appeared to have the same thing on their minds—no doubt another kiss.
Leaning forward, they drew together like magnets. He leaned down as she looked up. When their lips pressed together all inhibition and caution disappeared.
She shifted and moved from her chair to straddle him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him as if it would be the last kiss of a lifetime. If he had anything to do with it, it would be the first kiss of the rest of her life.
Touching, licking, stroking. They moved against each other until neither could catch their breath. He pulled back and lifted his eyes to meet hers. His expression relayed the message he wanted so much more, but was that wise?
Rob stood with his hands cradling her bottom and walked her to the sofa where he plopped down on the cushions. When they settled in, she straddled him once more.
Their plates went untouched because a more demanding hunger had to be sated. He flipped the remote and lit the fireplace to set the mood. His eager lips brushed against the curve of her neck, tasting her skin with the tip of his tongue. He nibbled and suckled while she shivered and dug her nails into his upper arms.
Against her skin, he murmured, “Like that?”
“Yes.” Her breath came out whisper soft.
She took his hand and slipped it under her sweater.
His palm cupped her breast before his fingers explored what she offered.
Lifting her sweater over her head, he tossed it aside. He needed to touch her and taste her. Hell, he wanted to devour her.
The moan that burst from her mouth made it more perfect.
She was timid but steady in her exploration of him. Her touch was light as she stroked his shoulders and down his arms.
When her hands grazed his thighs, drawing the tips of her nails across the denim, her touch sent sparks of energy pulsing through him. His breath was labored, and his head clouded with passion, and they hadn’t even gotten to
the good stuff.
He didn’t want to rush the moment, but he was impatient. He leaned her back on the couch and gazed at her. The satin cups of her bra pushed beneath her breasts, lifting them like an offering.
He pulled back, bringing everything to a screeching halt. This all happened so fast and while he was eager to continue, it was important to make sure everything was perfect for her.
She rose to her elbows. “What’s wrong?”
“I got carried away.” He ran his fingers through his hair as if the seconds that passed would lessen his desire. One look at Celia and he knew he’d want her always.
“I thought getting carried away was the point. Is something wrong?”
“No,” he said with a soft laugh. “It’s very right. Are you sure about this? Are you ready to take this to the next level?”
“I know what this is, Rob.” Her hands moved under his shirt—the burning so intense he would have sworn her fingertips were high voltage. “You don’t have to be chivalrous. I’m a grown woman.”
He took in her body from those soulful eyes to the button of her jeans.
“No argument there.” He tucked his fingers under her waistband. “I just want to do right by you.”
“Then take me upstairs,” she whispered.
And with that, he carried her to his bedroom. He laid her down in the middle of the mattress with the bedding fluffed around her.
Celia propped herself up on her elbows and watched him strip. “No wonder Jackson never pants’d you again. He felt inadequate.”
“One more chance to change your mind. I don’t want you to regret this.”
She gave him another once-over. “My only regret will be if you stop. Just once I’d love to have sex because I want it. A moment where my body screams louder than my mind. A chance to know what this connection between us will feel like if we let it take over. Give me that. I won’t ask for anything else.”
He reached for the waist of her jeans. With the skill of a magician, her clothes disappeared in seconds.
Her amusement and carefree laugh touched him.
She’d had such a brilliant smile in high school. Those in his small, humble group of unpopular boys who worshiped her from afar referred to her as Miss Colgate because she had perfectly white, straight teeth. He was glad he could bring a smile back to her face.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” She tugged on his shoulders, so he moved closer.
She kissed him, her tongue slipping into his mouth to release a floodgate of desire. Heat gathered in the pit of his stomach. Could a man burn to be inside a woman?
She took his face in her delicate hands. “I want this. I need this.”
He positioned himself between her welcoming thighs and lowered his mouth to hers before he pressed into her body.
Celia moved with him, moaning with each stroke. Several minutes later, he rolled onto his back, swinging her above him. She pressed her palms to his chest. Gone was the demure, hesitant single mother, and in her place was a fiery siren. The sight of her uninhibited and taking what she needed drove him wild.
“You keep that up, and I won’t last,” he groaned.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “We’ll just have to go for round two.”
“I’m all in.” He strained against his release, waiting for her to catch up to him. She kept a steady pace while he touched her in the place that would undo her.
She opened her mouth, her eyes fluttered, and then what started as tiny spasms grew into a tight fist that clenched around his length until he gave in and rode out his release.
They were a tangle of limbs, spent and gasping for air.
“I’ve never—”
“That’s not true,” he teased.
“Never like that.” She curled into his chest.
“That’s how it should always be.” He kissed the top of her head and held her tight. He’d had plenty of good sex, but he’d had nothing like he’d experienced with Celia. Far more than their sex organs connected them. Their hearts linked them together.
She thought she knew what this was. No doubt she considered it a one-night stand, but she was wrong. This was more. This was everything.
Chapter Thirteen
Celia
She woke and bolted upright. “What time is it?”
He checked his watch. “It’s only eleven. It seems later than it is. Do you need to get going?”
“Yeah.” She rolled out of bed and gathered her clothes. “Jackson will be home. What will he think? I’ve never been out like this before.”
One look at Rob and she debated between being a selfish lover and a good mom. How much she wanted to climb back in bed and let him make her feel again.
“What time does the store close?”
“It closes at ten, and he stays after to stock for the next day. If we hurry, I’ll be home when he gets home.”
Rob got up and slipped into his jeans.
Celia yanked her pants up and almost toppled over.
“Hey.” He stopped her. “You’ll be there at the same time. He knows you’re over at my house for dinner. It’s okay.”
“I’ve never been out with—” she began.
“With a man, you mean,” he finished for her. “Is that what this is about? Is this about your son or you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She tugged on her shoes and looked around for her sweater.
“It’s okay to take time for yourself, Celia. Relax. We’ll get you home in time,” he assured her. “Your sweater is by the couch.”
He was so perceptive. Part of what made her squirrelly was feeling like a naughty teenager, but it wouldn’t be her parents catching her sneaking in, but her son. How frustrating was it to have one of the best moments of her life and not allow herself to enjoy it?
“I know. This is all new to me,” she whispered.
“Then we’ll practice so it becomes second nature. You’ll be a pro in no time.”
They rushed downstairs, where she tugged on her sweater, grabbed her groceries and headed out the door.
“I’m sorry to leave you with the mess.”
He reached over and held her hand. “Isn’t it time someone else got the mess? Looks to me like you’ve been dealing with it long enough.”
They remained silent for the few minutes it took to get to her house.
At her door, he kissed her goodbye.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she promised.
* * *
Several days passed since their amazing night. Rob texted her, and she ignored him. Tension coiled in her stomach. She couldn’t figure it out. Rob was the whole package. He was handsome, self-made, generous, and he liked her son. They shared a history, and he made her feel things she’d never felt in her life—things only found in books and movies.
She ran scared because she knew what their time was—one night and nothing more. She tried to live her life as a realist and Rob McKenna was out of her league.
So much time had passed since their intimate encounter, and the pause gave her a moment to think. Those thoughts stirred up deep-seated feelings that weren’t good. Rob would eventually leave, and she couldn’t stand to be abandoned again, so she’d sabotaged everything.
She did her best to maintain a clear head for Jackson. He was an independent kid, but she was glad he still needed things like a lunch and an occasional hug. Those small things made her feel necessary.
As soon as he was out the door to school, she was alone, but her mind wasn’t silent. Her thoughts were there chattering away.
It was years ago, and she still felt abandoned by Jackson Sr. It wasn’t as if she wanted him back; she wanted to be needed, and he didn’t need her, nor did he want her. That was why the small things she could do for her son made her feel good, like somehow her contribution to his life brought value.
She didn’t have time to wallow in insecurities. Her weekend guests would arrive before Jackson got home fro
m school.
She hoped they would touch base and then be out the door. She’d be here to greet them and give them a rundown of the place and then retreat into her apartment for the weekend. Maybe with some leftover Halloween chocolate, a pint of ice cream, or a box of Little Debbie snacks. Not a little box but an economy pack.
* * *
Alex and his girlfriend, Nicole, arrived on time. She escorted them to their rooms and showed them where the bathroom was. She told them they could help themselves to the refrigerator and figured that would be it.
“We thought we could get dinner,” Alex said. “I read that dinner was available for a fee.”
He pointed to a brochure he’d saved on his phone. She offered meals if the guests requested the service ahead of time. She didn’t feel like doing anything but disappearing into her place and hiding, but they’d rescued her from the cancellation, and she felt obligated.
As nice as she could, she said, “Normally, I’d require advance notice, but I can cook for you if you’d like.”
“Anything you make will be fantastic,” Alex said. “I’ll give Rob a call and let him know we’re here. I’d want him to join us.”
“Rob?” she asked, knowing perfectly well who he was talking about.
“Yes.” Nicole looked at Alex. “Didn’t he say this would be a great place to rent? I can tell you, we’re in love with it already. It’s cute and comfortable.”
Alex gave Nicole a look that could wilt a flower.
“Rob suggested it to you?” She was at odds with her feelings for him. She’d wanted that night as badly as he did, but she hadn’t considered the repercussions. He wasn’t here long term. He was in town to make money and leave. It was the leaving part that made her feel foolish because she’d set herself up for heartbreak.
Christmas Inn Love Page 9