by A. C. Arthur
One of his brows arched and Gray opened his mouth to speak. He closed it and then tried again. Nothing.
“Just about six weeks,” Morgan continued. “So it must have been that first time. When we were at my place. Um, I counted back and that had to be the night. I haven’t been with anyone since James died, so I’m positive it’s yours. I wouldn’t be standing here if I wasn’t absolutely certain.”
She began shaking her head as he continued to stare at her. “But you don’t have to do anything. I’ll be all right. I mean, we’ll be all right. I totally understand that you have a life in Miami and business and all that.”
He slowly placed a finger to her lips. “Shush.”
Morgan’s heart was beating so fast that, coupled with the noise of something that had fallen in the other room, she had to ask, “What did you just say?”
Gray took a step closer to her. “I said to shush.”
This time it was Morgan who opened her mouth to speak, just to have the words cut short when Gray grabbed her at the waist, pulled her up against him and kissed her.
It was what great chick flicks were made of. The slow and poignant hold, his gaze trained on her as he came in closer. Their lips parting slightly and then touching hotly. Morgan fell completely into the act the moment his tongue touched hers. She held him tightly, loving the feel of his strong arms doing the same to her. This was safe, she thought suddenly. It was safe and solid and...home.
“I thought you were leaving,” she whispered against his lips when they’d had to choose between continuing the kiss or breathing. “I haven’t seen or talked to you in weeks.”
Gray shook his head. “I was giving you space,” he told her and cupped her face in his hands.
“Space? I don’t understand,” she said, leaning into his touch, not wanting it to go away. “That day with Harry, you said if he truly loved me he would beg, steal, tear down walls and climb mountains to keep me. But you just came over here and started doing...what are you doing exactly?”
He smiled. “I meant exactly what I said that day. When a man truly loves a woman he’ll do anything to keep her. So when you told me that you wanted me to leave, even after I told you that I wanted to be here with you and the children, I did exactly that. I also moved into this house and starting mapping out the plan to our future. It starts with renovating.”
“Renovations? Our future? Gray, I’m sorry. I don’t know if it’s the noise or the dust, or the flip-flopping of my stomach that’s making me a bit nauseous, but I don’t get what you’re saying.”
He kissed her lips quickly, letting one of his hands fall to cup her still-flat stomach. “I’m saying that I was just waiting for you to come to the conclusion I’d already reached. All my life I’ve wondered about my purpose and my place in this world. I didn’t think it could be that I belonged in the same town where I started out, or that I could possibly want what my parents had, but I do. I want the home and the family. I want a wife and children that will run and play in this yard and grow up in this small crazy town.”
Gray shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his own words. “You’re the one that I’ve been waiting for all this time, Morgan. You’re the one that made me see what it was I truly wanted and love you so very much for being too stubborn to just let me come into this town with my business-as-usual attitude. I love you for being strong enough to walk away if I couldn’t truly commit to you. And I love you for this,” he said, looking down at his hand on her stomach. “So very much, Morgan. I just love you.”
Her eyes were full of tears, her heart beating so fast she thought it could be seen through her shirt.
“You’re the one I’ve wished for,” Morgan said, blinking furiously to keep her tears from falling. “All those wishes under the mistletoe, for all those years. And then you showed up. It was you all along, Gray. I love you.”
“We’re going to be so great together,” he told her. “You, me, Lily, Jack and this one.” He patted her stomach then. “We’re going to be a family. The new Taylors of Temptation.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from A CHASE FOR CHRISTMAS by Candace Shaw.
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A Chase for Christmas
by Candace Shaw
Chapter 1
Preston Chase perused the bakery display case and all of the tasty desserts in his view in Sweet Treats Bakery. Everything from decadent chocolate pastries to creative and too-beautiful-to-eat cupcakes seductively screamed his name. His sister was the owner and head pastry chef, so he knew whatever he selected would be delectable. But like his dating life, he couldn’t settle on just one.
Glancing up, he met his baby sister’s angelic but impatient stare. “Quick rushing me, Tiff. You have any more sweet potato pie?”
Wrinkling her nose, Tiffani Hollingsworth sighed deeply. “No, and I don’t want to see another sweet potato anything until next Thanksgiving. I think I baked over two hundred of them in the last three weeks. I’m trying to perfect an eggnog-flavored cupcake. Your nephew insists that I do so.”
“Mmm, that sounds good. I’ll volunteer to do a taste test when they’re available, but for now—” he rested his light brown eyes back on the desserts in front of him “—I need something. Everything looks so delicious.”
“You can have more than one,” she suggested. “While you decide, tell me more about your Winter Wonderland project, and how I can assist.” Leaving her spot behind the counter, she trekked over to the door, locked it and flipped the sign on the glass to Closed.
A sincere smile reached his face at the mention of his upcoming project for the children at the Coretta Scott King Children’s Hospital in downtown Atlanta. Having been a patient there as a child with leukemia, Preston now visited the children there with his service dog, a golden retriever named Hope, who was trained to add a little sunshine to their day.
“I’m having two events on Christmas Eve. One is during the day for the children who can’t leave the hospital, and the other is at night for the children who are still patients but go back and forth for treatments as well as the ones who are in remission. My team worked overtime on the planning, and I developed a new video game in honor of the event
. Each child will go home with one along with their Christmas wish list choices. That way I can relieve a little stress on the parents.”
“You’re such a sweetheart,” she said as she counted the money and credit card receipts from the cash registers. “I’ll donate all the cupcakes and goodies you want.”
“Thank you, and I’ll have an éclair.” He pointed to his favorite dessert and said drily, “Just wanted to try something different.” Shrugging, he checked his watch. He needed to head home and prepare for his Friday night date.
Grabbing the tongs, she placed half a dozen into a yellow-and-white-striped box that matched the awning over the door of the bakery. “You select the same dessert every time, Prez.” She paused as a sarcastic smirk crossed her face. “Just like your choice in women. They’re all carbon copies. And you wonder why you haven’t found Mrs. John Preston Chase III yet.”
Chuckling at her saying his whole name, Preston slid the box off of the counter. “Sis, when I tried something different—” he nodded his head toward the Paint, Sip, Chat Studio next door “—I got shot down. It’s like she’s immune to me.”
“You can forget it. My best friend just isn’t interested,” she reminded him. “She prefers someone a little more low-key, not living his day like it’s his last.”
“I like to be free and spontaneous. You know that. ‘Live in the moment’ is my motto.”
Tiffani smiled sweetly. “I know, Prez. Going through what you did as a child, I can’t say that I blame you, but my girl just isn’t into you.”
“Mmm... I wouldn’t say that.”
A movement through the window caught his attention, and his eyes rested on the person in question. Blythe Ventura jumped out of a black truck parked between her studio and the bakery and darted around to the bed, where a medium-size Christmas tree lay wrapped in twine. She unlatched the tailgate, pulled it down and tugged on the tree.
Her jeans-clad hips and rounded butt were provocatively accentuated as she slid the evergreen a quarter of the way out before stopping and wiping her brow with the back of her hand. After sighing, she attempted to try again but halted as a frustrated expression crossed her sweet, makeup-free face. Her natural black curls were pulled up into a bouncy ponytail on the top of her head, which enhanced her beauty even more. Huge gold hoops hung from her ears and hit her cheeks every time she shook her head back and forth. Quite a few multicolored bracelets encircled her right wrist. The black sweater fit snug over her perky, plump breasts that jiggled when she tugged on the tree, and his smile grew wider with every passing second at the glorious sight.
Blythe was indeed a sexy, beautiful, independent woman he’d admired from afar for over a year. However, whenever he attempted to flirt or ask her out, she’d laugh as if it was the funniest joke she’d ever heard. And while most of the time he was teasing her, Preston did find her alluring.
Setting the box on the counter, he walked toward the door and unlocked it. “I’ll be back.” Winking, he left Tiffani shaking her head wearing an oh-boy-here-we-go-again expression.
Sinking his hands in his coat pockets, he strode to Blythe, who started to pull the tree again, only to stop and mumble a curse word.
“Hi there,” he started. “Need some assistance?”
She jumped a tad and rested her brown doe eyes on him. “Hey, Preston. I didn’t realize you were there.” She backed away from the truck. “I’d love some help. Thank you,” she answered sincerely in a deep, raspy voice with a Brooklyn accent. “If you get on the bed, I can pull it out while you push.”
So many sexual innuendos entered his brain as he pressed his lips together in a smile to keep from sharing them. Usually he tried his best to be a gentleman and respectful with her since she was his sister’s best friend. And even though she shot him down, Blythe was always cordial and pleasant with him. They weren’t friends per se, but they were cool, and he appreciated her being a great friend to Tiffani.
Glancing at the tree, he saw it wasn’t much bigger than the one he’d recently carried into his parents’ home. “I’ll grab it. You just open the door to your studio and tell me where you need me to place it.”
She did as requested, and a few moments later, it stood tall in the window of the lobby. Circling the tree, she cut the twine with a pair of scissors while he stretched the branches out. Afterward they both stood back and admired it.
“It’s beautiful,” he complimented her. “I see you’re falling into the holiday spirit the day after Thanksgiving.”
“Yep. I visited Tiffani this afternoon to grab a croissant sandwich, and Christmas music played in the bakery, reminding me I need to decorate the studio.” She ran her fingers along the tree. “I love this time of the year. So festive and family-oriented.”
“Me, too. Christmas was always a big deal in the Chase household. In fact, my mother had everything set up a few days before Thanksgiving. My parents go all out with the lights on every shrub and mechanical reindeer. My dad says he’s going to add a Santa Claus on the roof this year.”
“Sounds like my family.” Pausing, she turned her attention toward the tree once more. “I sincerely appreciate your help.”
“Are you going to decorate it now?”
“No. I teach an art class here on Saturday mornings, and I promised the children last week they could help me.”
Preston’s brain went into overdrive. “Oh, so you like working with children?”
“Yes. Love them. Especially the little ones. I used to teach art at the elementary and high school levels before opening my studio a few years ago. I miss it sometimes, especially during this time of the year with winter-themed programs, making the extravagant sets and festive costumes for the children.”
The wheels in his head began to turn, and he was surprised the thought hadn’t crossed his mind before, but he hadn’t seen Blythe in a couple of weeks. “Mmm...well, I’m planning a Winter Wonderland project for the children I visit at the hospital. Would you be interested in helping me and my committee make it come to life? I have a vision, but I’m not artistic, as you know from the paint class my family and I participated in with you last year.”
She nodded her head. “Yeah, I remember, but your pumpkin didn’t turn out too bad.”
A sly smile inched up his jawline. “Well, I did have a fantastic teacher, even though it would’ve turned out better if I wasn’t so distracted by her beauty.” He stepped into her personal space, and he could’ve sworn he saw her breath suck in, but she laughed out loud as she always did when he flirted with her.
“Oh, Preston,” she replied, patting his chest. “You know your flirting never works on me. Save it for all the other women in Atlanta. However, I’d be happy to help with your project. Sounds like it will be fun.”
He was used to her brush-offs, and he still found it amusing that she always had a comeback for him. Sometimes he flirted just to see what witty remark she’d make, and other times he loved to hear her laugh.
“Well, thank you for volunteering to help.”
“No problem. My mom had breast cancer years ago, so I can only imagine what those children are going through. It has to be utterly scary for them.”
A heaviness settled in his chest at her words. “It is scary. I’ve been in their shoes. I had leukemia as a child.”
A sadness washed over her features. “Oh... I had no idea,” Blythe said emphatically. “No wonder you do so much for the children’s hospital.”
“Yeah, I was in and out for four years.” He stopped when he noticed she still frowned. “Hey, don’t look so sad.” He comforted her with a smile and pinched her chin. “I’m alive and in amazing health...and quite handsome, may I add.” He noticed her expression didn’t change even with the joke.
“It just took me by surprise. I didn’t know.”
“It’s one of the reasons I live each day lik
e it’s my last... Well, I’m not a daredevil. I do love my life. Plus, my mother would kill me if I died while swimming with sharks or something insane like that.”
“I thought Tiffani said you go skydiving every birthday.”
He shrugged. “That’s not extreme.” His eyes landed on a blue storage crate marked Lights sitting on a nearby chair in the lobby area. “Are you going to hang the lights now?”
“I have two paint parties tonight I need to prepare for, and one of my assistants is on vacation. I’ll have to do it once I’m closed. I need to have it done before the children arrive in the morning. That way all they have to do is hang the ornaments.”
“Nonsense. You don’t close until ten. I’ll do it for you.” Strolling over to the crate, he lifted the lid and saw the lights neatly coiled around a huge hook.
“You don’t have to do that. You brought that heavy tree inside for me. I’d still be wrestling with it if it wasn’t for you.” Her eyebrows raised in an amused manner. “Besides, it’s a Friday night. I’m sure you have plans, Mr. Party All the Time.”
“I kinda do, but it’s no biggie. This won’t take long. You just concentrate on setting up for the parties. I’m going to run back to the bakery to grab my box of goodies before Tiffani leaves.”
“But...” Blythe shook her head while trying to suppress a smile. “You really don’t have to.”
He walked over to the door and opened it. He could’ve sworn he read more into her expression and demeanor. Preston knew a woman’s body language. While Blythe had always remained firm and unbothered by him, he wasn’t so sure that was the case at the present moment. Now curiosity had him questioning why.
Glancing at her over his shoulder, he cracked a grin at the thought of perhaps winning her over after all. “No worries. I got you.”
* * *
No worries? The comment had played on repeat in her head for the last ten minutes. How could she not worry when the irresistible Preston Chase graced her lobby, hanging lights on the tree? Blythe walked around the stations, setting a smock on the back of each chair as she heard the giggles of a few ladies walking past in the hallway to the other room, where her assistant Mandi was about to begin class. She also heard catcalls, whistles and “Damn, he’s fine.” Women were even going back for a second peek at the man who was probably enjoying every moment of their attention.