His Christmas Sweetheart

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His Christmas Sweetheart Page 13

by Cathy McDavid


  Sam shot him down. “Once Cliff gets here, we can talk about delivery of the fire engine and training. I want you in on that.”

  Will’s boot tapped a beat on the carpet.

  “Excuse me a minute.” The mayor answered her ringing phone. As she listened, her mouth thinned. “I haven’t heard from her. Call Cissy, see if she can cover.” Hanging up, she faced Will and Sam. “Sorry about that. Problem at the bar.”

  “Everything okay?” Sam asked.

  “One of my waitresses didn’t show up for her shift, and we can’t reach her. Her phone keeps going straight to voice mail.”

  Will knew without being told. “Miranda?”

  “Yes.” The mayor turned to him. “Do you by chance know where she is?”

  “She had an appointment this morning.” Before he’d left the Paydirt yesterday, she had mentioned her meeting with the loan officer. “I could go look for her.” He pushed to his feet. “It’s right down the road.”

  “Would you mind? We’re waiting on Cliff anyway.”

  Will hurried the half block to the savings and loan. Inside, he asked a teller if Miranda was still here. The young man checked with the loan officer and reported that Miranda had left almost an hour earlier.

  He didn’t ask how the meeting went. His gut told him not well.

  Outside, he headed toward the residential district where Miranda’s house was located. The walk wasn’t a long one. Shorter if he jogged.

  Careful not to slip on the snow-covered sidewalks, he called Sam. “Miranda wasn’t where I thought she might be. Tell the mayor I’m stopping by her place.” Will all but broke into a run after hanging up.

  He reached Miranda’s street several minutes later, sweat soaking the shirt beneath his jacket despite the cold. He was almost to her house when his cell phone rang. Sam’s number appeared on the display.

  “Yeah,” he huffed.

  “Mayor Dempsey just heard from Miranda.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Where is she?”

  “The mayor didn’t say.”

  Will stopped on the sidewalk in front of Harmony House. Bending over, he braced his free hand on his knee, catching his breath. “All right. I’m on my way back.”

  All at once he caught a flash of movement in the front window. Must be one of the residents. No, not unless Babs or Mrs. Litey had grown blond hair in the past few days.

  “Wait,” he said an instant before Sam hung up. “I might be a while longer. Start the meeting without me.”

  “Will? What’s going on?”

  “Call you later.” He pocketed his cell phone, walked to the front door and knocked.

  As she’d done so often, Miranda answered the door. Only this time, she’d obviously been crying.

  “Oh, honey.” He stepped inside and opened his arms.

  Without any hesitation, she flew at him and broke into fresh tears.

  After a moment, he led her to the couch and sat them both down. Crackers wandered over for a quick ear scratching and settled on the floor by their feet.

  “What happened?” Will asked gently.

  Between Miranda’s soft sobs and the occasional hiccup, he had trouble understanding her. Eventually he gleaned enough of the story; her application to refinance had been turned down. And with Mr. Lexington’s imminent departure, she was terrified of losing her house and business.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” He stroked her back, enjoying a little too much how good it felt when she leaned into him.

  He’d missed these moments. Being close to a woman. Giving comfort. Providing that soft place for her to fall.

  How long until he failed Miranda, just as he’d failed everyone else he ever cared about?

  Suddenly the room became a vacuum, void of oxygen. His chest constricted, compressed beneath the force of a thick metal band.

  Stop this, you hear me?

  Miranda’s voice resounded inside his head, calming him better than any mantra he’d previously tried. The room miraculously opened up as if fresh air was being blown in through a vent.

  “I don’t mean to be such an emotional wreck.” Her voice, while thready, was steadier.

  “It’s okay. You’re entitled.” He looked around, suddenly realizing they were alone. “Where is everyone?”

  “Nell took them to the general store so they could do some Christmas shopping. I think they’re also stopping at the pharmacy.” Miranda released a wobbly sigh. “I was scheduled to work at the Paydirt today, but I just couldn’t go in. Maybe later.”

  “I know. Sam and I were in Mayor Dempsey’s office when she got the call that you hadn’t shown up.”

  She gazed at him, her lashes damp spikes. “So you drove here?”

  “Actually, I walked.” More like ran.

  The corners of her mouth lifted in the tiniest of smiles. “Really?”

  He removed his cowboy hat and wiped his still-damp brow. “It’s farther than it looks.”

  “Why?”

  “Sam drove from the ranch. I didn’t want to take his truck.”

  “That’s not why you walked. Why did you come here? You could have called.”

  “To check on you. At first no one knew where you were.”

  She nodded. “I told Mayor Dempsey I was sick. I owe her the truth. And an apology.”

  “She’ll understand, I’m sure.”

  “I’d have taken your call.” She snuggled deeper in the crook of his arm. “But I’m glad you came by instead. This is much nicer.” She placed a hand on his leg.

  The warmth of her fingers penetrated the fabric of his jeans. Desire, hot and hard, spread through him.

  Will groaned. He’d made a career of suppressing his emotions. All kinds, good and bad. This one, however, was stronger than most.

  She must have sensed his rising need—or seen the evidence he couldn’t hide—for she turned into him and pressed her lips to the hollow beneath his jawline.

  “Miranda.” Her name had a desperate ring.

  Then again, Will was desperate. To get away from her...and to cover every inch of her body with every inch of his. His need was a fire. In another minute it would rage unchecked. And then would come the panic attack.

  The thought was enough to galvanize him. “I should go.”

  “No. Please stay.”

  “If I don’t leave now—”

  “What, Will?” Her hand crept perilously close to where it had no business being. “We’ll make love?”

  “You’re vulnerable right now.”

  As was he. She was getting closer by the second, worming her way into the places he diligently guarded.

  “Damn straight I’m vulnerable. This hasn’t exactly been my week.”

  “It wouldn’t be right for me to take advantage of you.”

  He shifted, hoping she’d get the hint and move her hand. Instead, it crept ever closer to the danger zone.

  Putting her mouth to his ear, she whispered, “What if I were to take advantage of you?”

  * * *

  WILL WAS ON his feet, grabbing his jacket off the arm of the couch. If he didn’t leave right now, he wouldn’t be responsible for what transpired next. “Your residents will be home soon.”

  “Not for hours. Besides...” Miranda also rose. Slowly. Her movements sensual and evocative. “We’re going to my room upstairs. Nell’s the only one capable of climbing the stairs, and she wouldn’t dare. Not without paging me on the intercom first. And everyone thinks I’m at the Paydirt.”

  As much as he wanted Miranda, and, God help him, he wanted her in the worst way possible, he resisted. “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “I disagree.” She sauntered toward him. “It’s
the best idea I’ve had in a long time.”

  “I don’t...”

  “What?” She laughed, though there was no merriment in it. “Have pity sex with women?”

  “No!”

  “Trust me.” She sobered. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

  Returning his jacket to the couch, she linked her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. Will’s resolve crumbled. He kissed her like a starved man. Even the possibility of a panic attack wasn’t enough of a threat to dissuade him.

  “You care about me.” She bit his lower lip and drew it between her teeth. “I can tell. You also want me. I need that. To be cared for and wanted.” A trace of sadness appeared in her eyes. “And to forget.”

  “I’ve thought of taking you to bed since we met.”

  “Then do it.”

  “Not like this.” He held her close and rested his chin on the top of her head. “If we ever make love, it won’t be to forget. It’ll be to create memories. Incredible ones.”

  She clung to him. “I’m hurting, Will. Make me feel better.” She kissed him full on the mouth, her lips petal soft and tasting like nectar.

  Every fiber of his being resisted, told him this was wrong. As usual, Miranda was impossible to refuse. She was all subtle curves, pliant limbs and sweet-smelling skin.

  Will caved. To hell with the consequences.

  Hauling her against him, he took her mouth with a ferocity unlike before, determined to drive her as crazy as she was driving him. Her response was equally explosive, equally fierce.

  Her fingers tore at the snaps on his shirt, shoving it off his shoulders. When the material bunched at his elbows, he shed the shirt as fast as possible. So much for sanity returning.

  It was hardly off before they were kissing again. Tugging at the hem of her sweater, he slid his hand beneath it, desperate to feel her naked skin. He found what he was seeking and it nearly knocked him to his knees. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Nothing covered the gloriously silky expanse of her back except his palms, which skimmed the entire length.

  A car engine roared to life somewhere outside, the sound penetrating his muddled brain. Nell and the residents weren’t returning home, but they would eventually.

  “We should probably stop while we still can.”

  Miranda, typically the talkative one, said nothing. She simply crossed the room to the hall. She didn’t look back; she didn’t need to. Will was right behind her.

  The door leading to the attic squeaked when she opened it, the hinges crying out for oil. The stairs groaned under their feet, announcing their progress. There would be no sneaking in and out when the residents were here.

  Will came to a halt, his hand on the polished wooden rail. He and Miranda had yet to make love and he was already contemplating the future. One that was, realistically, filled with uncertainty.

  A familiar and unsettling sensation hovered at the fringes. He gripped the railing tightly. A sharp pain shot up his arm.

  Stop this, you hear me? Her voice echoed inside his head again.

  He raised his gaze. She waited for him on the landing. If he was going to turn back, this was his last chance. He took a step up the stairs toward her.

  “Are you all right?” Miranda asked, smiling when he reached her.

  Light from a circular window streamed in, illuminating the attic suite behind her just enough that Will could distinguish the outline of bedroom furniture.

  “Yeah.” He almost cringed at the rough quality of his voice. If she sent him back the way he’d come, he wouldn’t blame her.

  She retreated into the room, and he thought she was going to do exactly that. Instead she lifted her sweater over her head. “Good. Because I’m through waiting.”

  At the sight of her bare breasts, Will’s mind emptied of everything save her. Need overruled reason. Desire vanquished fear. He would not disappoint her.

  She twirled just as he reached for her and started toward the bed. Will moved to the center of the room and watched as she unfastened her pants. She paused only long enough to shimmy out of them and discard the thick socks she’d been wearing.

  He swore his heart stopped. In fact, he was convinced of it.

  Miranda wore nothing but the sheerest, skimpiest thong panties. If he’d known the kind of underwear she favored, about the lack of underwear, he would have clammed up every time they were together.

  At the bed, she stopped and drew back the colorful spread. Despite a slight chill to the room, Will doubted they’d need any covering. He was plenty hot enough to keep them both warm.

  She faced him, the sadness gone from her eyes. “You going to stand there all day, cowboy?”

  The idea was appealing. She was certainly something to look at. More appealing, however, was the idea of holding her in his arms, burying himself deep inside her.

  Reclining onto the bed, she opened her arms. He went to her, not yet ready to shed his jeans and boots, and she pulled him down onto the mattress. Will pinned her beneath him. Bracing his elbows on either side of her, he stared into her face.

  “What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Her cheeks flushed an appealing pink. “You’re only saying that because I’m nearly naked and underneath you.”

  He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. She was making light of the situation; he understood that. Emotions were on the line. The risk of being hurt existed. Considering his track record, it was practically a given.

  But she was too important for him to take what was about to occur between them casually.

  “I’m saying that because you are. Inside and out. I’ve never met anyone like you, Miranda, and that isn’t a line. You’re a wonderful, generous, giving person. I wish I could promise you that I won’t let you down. I can only promise you that I’ll try my best not to.”

  “Why, Will Dessaro, I do believe that’s the longest speech I’ve ever heard you make.”

  “You may be right.”

  She tenderly caressed his cheek. “I know this isn’t easy for you. Please don’t worry. If you start to struggle, we can always—”

  He cut her off with a kiss. Will knew more than most that there was a time for words and a time for action. Lying in bed with Miranda in his arms was definitely a time for action.

  Rolling onto his back, he pulled her with him, settling her on top of him so that their positions were reversed. With one arm around her waist and the other cupping her buttocks, he pressed his erection firmly into her tummy.

  She closed her eyes. “Mmm...nice.”

  He couldn’t wait to—

  Will went still. It was unusual for him to get so carried away that he forgot about protection.

  “What?”

  “We, uh...” Damn, he just needed to say it. “Condoms. I don’t have one. I wasn’t planning for this.”

  “No worries.” Miranda slid herself off him, hopped off the bed and padded to the dresser in the corner. Opening the bottom drawer, she dug around and removed a small box.

  Will was speechless, even for him. She kept a box of condoms in her dresser?

  “It’s not what you think.” She set the box on the nightstand, within easy reach. “I bought these for Babs.”

  “Babs?” He was positive he’d heard wrong.

  “Technically, for her and Arthur.”

  He tried envisioning the elderly couple doing the deed. “Babs and Arthur...” He couldn’t finish. It was all too much.

  “I don’t ask.” Miranda climbed back into the bed and nestled beside Will. “What they do when they’re alone is their private business. But people of any age need to practice safe sex.”

  Will wasn’t sure if he’d ever get the image of Babs and Arthur out of his mind. Then Miranda r
eached for his belt buckle and his attention snapped back to her.

  Struggling with the snap on his jeans, she made a face. “These have to go.”

  He obliged her. The rest of his clothes weren’t far behind. Miranda sighed approvingly as she slid Will’s boxer briefs over his hips and down his legs. Grinning wickedly, she reached for his erection, filling her hands with it and stroking gently. Every one of his muscles tensed to the point of snapping.

  One minute was the most he could endure, and he nudged her hands away.

  “I wasn’t done,” she complained with a sexy pout.

  Grabbing a condom off the nightstand, he put it on with shaking fingers. Then he eased her onto her back. “And I’ve only just begun.”

  Will covered her breasts, kneading and plying them, then brought the closest one to his mouth. The nipple was pert and firm and sweeter than rock candy. Miranda watched him lick and suckle while murmuring her approval.

  Her face, always so readable, displayed everything she was feeling. Delight. Excitement. Anticipation. Arousal. Never the least bit shy, she raised her hips, issuing a provocative invitation that set his blood on fire.

  Enough was enough. Will slipped a thumb into the elastic leg band of her thong and shoved it aside.

  “Wait,” she cooed, her sultry voice sliding over him. “Let me.” She wriggled out of the thong in a seductive dance that drove him right to the edge.

  With the barrier effectively removed, he entered her with his fingers. She was damp and ready for him.

  “Oh, my.” She threw her head back onto the pillow, a moan escaping.

  “Tell me what you like.”

  She did, by moving her body, guiding his hand and whispering words of encouragement. Will concentrated on her, which wasn’t easy. His own need was demanding equal time.

  “No more.” She shifted away.

  “Did I hurt you?” And here he’d thought she was close to climaxing.

  “Not at all.” She parted her legs, wriggled seductively. “I want you inside me when I come.”

  Will nearly lost it, but not before he entered her with a single thrust. Stars exploded behind his eyelids. She was tight and slick and warm and all his. He pushed deeper, then deeper still.

 

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