She couldn’t remember ever being so aware of him. What she’d said in the locker room was true—they’d been kids when they’d dated before. Now, they were older, wiser, their connection even stronger. He didn’t even need to be touching her, yet she felt him in the room. He didn’t need to say anything, yet she knew what he was thinking. And right now, his thoughts were pretty obvious. The desire in the depths of his chocolate-colored eyes left no room for question.
She dropped her gaze and moved away, folding the tree skirt and putting it back in the box. Her mother would place it around the tree later. “What about you? How did you celebrate Christmas in Miami?” she asked.
“A lot of the same—lights on the house, a real indoor tree…of course we got ours from a Christmas tree lot,” he said, shooting a look at her brothers.
Her eyes narrowed as she followed Neil’s gaze to the couch. Her brothers ignored her, their attention glued to a tear-jerker of a holiday soda commercial. Jerks. She knew they had never cut down their own tree. But whatever tradition they’d had with her dad was theirs, and now their own. She let her suspicion fade on her lips. “I don’t know if I could do Christmas without snow,” she said instead.
“You can create the illusion of snow without having to endure this nut-freezing coldness,” he said, biting into his cookie. Frosting covered his top lip.
She shot him a look, nodding toward her daughter’s presence, but it was hard to scold a man whom she wanted to lick clean of sprinkles.
“Sorry,” he said, wiping the temptation away and then making it worse by sucking it from his finger.
God, she needed to have sex sometime soon. Preferably with him.
“I’ve heard worse,” Taylor reassured.
Becky sighed, mom instincts returning. With three uncles as role models and playing hockey around older boys, she suspected her little girl had heard a lot worse. “Anyway, enlighten us—how do you create a magical snowy wonderland as beautiful as this,” she said, gesturing to the snow falling in big flakes outside the window.
“Every fall we collect dry milkweed pods, and then during the holidays we open them up and blow the fluffy white seeds all over the trees in the yard. Voila, snow.” He picked up another ornament—one of the homemade reindeer made out of Popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners—and hung it on a branch.
“What about snowball fights?” Taylor asked.
“Easy—marshmallows,” Neil said.
Her daughter nodded her approval. “Not bad.”
“Thanks,” he said, tussling her hair.
She beamed at him, and once again Becky’s ovaries pleaded with her to lose all common sense.
At her place later.
But then later seemed to come all too quickly. With Ben and Asher taking off for their respective red-eye flights and Taylor pretending to fall asleep on Jackson’s shoulder to secure a sleepover at Grandma’s that evening, too soon she would be alone with Neil.
Anticipation mixed with anxiety as they said goodnight to her family and she left the security of a crowd. Stepping out into the cold, she hesitated at her truck. “You know, it’s getting late…if you want to call it a night…”
Neil took her hat from her hand and placed it on her head, smoothing the forever flyaway strands around her chin. Then kissing her nose, he whispered, “I’ll meet you at your place.”
* * *
“I’d offer you a real drink, but all I have is eggnog and Diet Coke,” Becky said, heading into her own kitchen.
“I’m good,” Neil said as he followed. All evening at her family’s home, the only thing he could think about was getting her alone. She, on the other hand, seemed even more shy and reserved than usual, and he refused to let her keep putting distance between them. He wanted her to feel as sure and as confident about this as he did.
When she opened the fridge door, he reached around her and closed it, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him. He held her tight as he buried his face into the top of her head, breathing in the scent of peppermint shampoo. “You always smell like Christmas.”
She gave a nervous-sounding laugh and turned in his arms. “What exactly does Christmas smell like?”
“Peppermint, chocolate, gingerbread…everything I can’t resist,” he said, placing his hands on her hips. “I had fun tonight.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Even though my brothers dragged you out in the middle of nowhere for nothing and you were stuck decorating a tree for two hours?”
“Best. Night. Ever.” He grinned.
“You’re such a liar.”
He hugged her close as he lowered his lips to hers for a soft, gentle kiss, contradicting what he really wanted to do. “Okay. Now, it’s the best night ever.”
He watched her chest rise and fall beneath the ivory V-neck cashmere, and she swallowed hard. “Neil, there’s something I need to tell you…”
He touched her cheek. “You’re scared. You’re worried about getting involved with another man who puts his life at risk for a living. You worry about bringing someone into your life and Taylor’s. You’re not happy that I’m going to be deployed again in the new year…I know, I understand, but I promise you, I won’t let you down.” And damn, once made, he knew he had to follow through, even if that meant reevaluating his priorities and what he wanted.
Her lips curled into a grin as she nodded slowly. “Yes to all of that, but I was actually just going to tell you that you have glitter all over your face.”
He frowned. That was it? He wiped a hand over his face, knowing it made no difference. She was covered in it, too. A week from now, they’d both still shimmer in certain lighting.
Bending, he lifted her onto the counter and settled between her knees. “I meant what I said, though.” The words came from deep in his throat, sounding foreign to his own ears. Never before had he felt such a need to reassure her that his intentions were true. He should have in the past. Maybe then things would have been different. Maybe they wouldn’t have wasted so many years apart…
She ran both hands along either side of his jawline, down his neck, to rest on his shoulders. “It’s not you I don’t believe in,” she whispered.
“Nothing else should matter,” he murmured against her lips. They would figure things out. What they had between them was real. It had always been real.
“Then why does it?” she asked, her gaze flitting back and forth between his eyes and his lips.
He didn’t have an answer, so he kissed her. Long and hard, his mouth desperate to help erase any fear or hesitation she had about them. About him.
Her hands held the back of his head in place as her tongue slid along his bottom lip, teasing, playful, and for right now he’d forget about trying to convince her with his words. Instead he’d let his actions and his body take over. Slipping his hands beneath her legs on the counter, he wrapped them around his waist and lifted her, carrying her past Taylor’s empty room to the master at the end of the hallway. Thank God Taylor had pulled that “I’m asleep” trick to stay at her grandmother’s house.
Inside Becky’s room, he kicked the door partially closed with his foot and then backed up against it until he heard the click. Finally. Alone with Becky. No distractions. Nowhere else either of them had to be. Right here and now was all that mattered.
Her lips on his and her hands in his hair told him he didn’t need to ask if she was sure. She’d felt everything between them this past week the same way he did. And neither of them was fighting the attraction any longer.
“I want you,” she murmured against his lips, her hands skimming the sides of his body to slip beneath his shirt.
Her fingers were freezing as they traced a path along his lower abs, but for the first time since moving back to Colorado, he didn’t mind the cold. He kissed her again…and again. Would he ever get enough of the sweet taste of her gingerbread-flavored lip gloss? How had he ever lived without it? Suddenly he looked forward to the other flavors he knew she would taste like—pea
ches in summer, pumpkin spice in fall…
He wanted to experience them all.
He carried her to the bed and set her back gently against the comforter. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw those Little Miss Sunshine underwear…before that actually, but definitely after that,” he whispered against her neck as he slid her sweater up over her waist and ribs. “I can’t wait to see which Little Miss is Friday.”
She grinned wickedly as she lifted her upper body and raised her arms above her head to allow him to remove the sweater, revealing a black lace bra that cupped her breasts like a second skin. “Then I hope you won’t be disappointed,” she said as she unbuttoned her jeans and continued to strip, revealing the matching black lace thong he’d rescued from the washing machine.
Sitting back on his heels, he took in the view. Letting out a low whistle, he ran his hands the length of her arms. “Disappointed? Hardly.” He couldn’t imagine a world where she could ever disappoint him.
Removing his own T-shirt and jeans quickly, he lay beside her and trailed his fingers all over her body. While the harsh, cold weather had his skin feeling rough and dry, hers was like silk. “You feel, look, and taste incredible, exactly how I remember,” he said, drinking her in. Curves in all the right places, freckles creating shapes that resembled constellations on her chest and thighs, he’d always loved exploring her body.
“What is it with you and taste? Hungry a lot?” she teased, wiggling away from him when his fingers traced along her lower stomach, tickling her.
“Only for you,” he answered, rolling them so her body was beneath him. “And I have a feeling that appetite will never be satisfied.”
Reaching behind her back, he unclasped the bra with one hand and slid a strap down over her shoulder, following it with kisses.
She grabbed the bra and tossed it onto the floor, then reached for the waistband of the thong.
He smiled at her eagerness. “Glad to see I’m not going to have to charm those off.”
“Who says you haven’t?” Suddenly, she looked self-conscious as she glanced down at her body. “I’ve changed since the last time.”
He tilted her chin to look into her eyes. “You’re right. You’re even more beautiful now.”
She looked slightly disbelieving, so he took her hands and placed them over her head, determined to prove to her that he meant it. She was even more fantastic than he remembered. Life and experiences had changed them both—but for the better. He was falling in love with her all over again. A love that made all other relationships, all other attraction, all other emotions pale in comparison. And now they were mature enough, wise enough to hold on to it.
“I feel beautiful with you. I haven’t felt that way in a long time,” she said.
He ran his hands along her thighs and felt himself grow thick. God, this wouldn’t last long. The first time at least. He didn’t plan on sleeping that evening, and he hoped she wouldn’t mind being tired the next day. He’d imagined what it would be like to be with her again, and he was intent on living out those fantasies into all hours of the night.
Goose bumps collected on her skin as he trailed kisses along her inner thigh. Her breathing became more shallow, and a soft moan escaped her lips as her hands tangled in his hair once more.
More noises like that and he’d be finished before he started.
“Oh my God—the elf!” she said, lifting his head away from her body.
He blinked, staring up at her. “The what?”
“The Elf on the Shelf. I forgot to move him.” She struggled to sit up. “If I don’t do it now, I’ll forget again.”
“I’m about four seconds from making love to you, and you’re thinking about a creepy-ass stuffed elf?” Ego blow.
She laughed, still trying to sit up. “Single mom brain—there’s no turning it off.”
“Challenge accepted.” Giving her a small shove, he forced her back against the pillows and removed the thong. His gaze locked with hers, he kissed her softly between her breasts, over her ribs, down her stomach.
“Neil, wait…please…just give me two seconds. Oh, my God…” she said, her breath catching as his mouth found the delicate spot between her thighs. He grinned as he slid his tongue along her folds.
She moaned and closed her eyes, her upper body settling back among the pillows, while her pelvis arched up toward him.
Mission accomplished. He glanced up at her. “Should I stop to let you go move the elf?”
“Don’t you dare. She’s almost nine—she pretends to still believe for my sake, anyway.”
* * *
Eventually the elf did get moved, but only after the best orgasms she’d had in.…forever. No one she’d been with since Neil had made her feel so cherished, so appreciated, so in tune with her own body. Not that she’d had many lovers, but she’d had enough to know that what she’d just experienced was not the norm.
She was falling in love with him all over again. The new, older, more mature him.
What he’d done on Pikes Peak for her and Taylor—giving them a sense of peace after so long—had confirmed what a true, selfless heart he had. Seeing him with her family that evening, decorating the tree and having her brothers include him in their annual tradition—however misleading—had touched a part of her that she’d forgotten had existed.
She wanted that feeling again. The feeling of being whole, of having someone to share those moments with. Share her life with. Share her and Taylor’s lives with.
She bit her lip, wondering how her daughter was feeling about all of this. She seemed to like Neil a lot, and the two were getting close, but she couldn’t shake her nagging concerns over his upcoming deployment. She knew it would affect Taylor as well…but her mother’s words echoed in her mind and she knew she was right. Neil would be a fantastic role model for her daughter—someone she could look up to and admire. They would be lucky to have him in their lives. And Becky suspected her own heart was far too gone already to walk away from Neil now.
She slid a length of brown felt fabric through her sewing machine, hoping the noise wouldn’t wake him. The image of him sleeping, spread naked across her bed, made it almost impossible to stay where she was and not rejoin him beneath the sheets. But, the kids’ Christmas nativity play was the following weekend, and in her busyness finishing Holly’s dress, she’d yet to start the costumes.
She sighed. It would be a long night. A longer night. But the delay had been totally worth it.
“Was I snoring?” Neil asked appearing in the open doorway a second later.
She glanced up and her mouth went dry. He’d put on his jeans, but nothing else, and she was reminded of catching him in just a towel. What was it about a man’s chiseled bare chest, stomach, and arms that was sexier than total nakedness? “I had to sneak away while I had the chance, before you woke up and demanded to be satisfied for what—the third time?”
“Fourth, and you knew that, so I’m not going to act insulted,” he said with a smile, entering the room. “What’re you doing?”
“Working on costumes for the school nativity play next weekend. I lost my mind and offered to make one for a friend of Taylor’s as well, and I was so busy this month that I hadn’t even started them.”
He looked around the room and his gaze landed on the wedding dress. “Holy shit—that’s the same dress?”
She laughed. “I finished it this morning…” She glanced at the clock. “Yesterday morning.”
“This is incredible. You should do this full time. You always talked about a career in fashion.”
She shook her head. “It’s just a secret passion of mine now.”
“You should consider it again,” he said, touching the beadwork she’d painstakingly applied to the top of the dress.
Maybe she would in the new year, when she left Widows of Heroes in the hands of someone else.
“So, do you have a date for the wedding?” he asked casually.
She hesitated. “No.”
“Nah, me neither. I thought I’d flirt with the drunk bridesmaids.”
She shot him a look.
He raised an eyebrow. “Crazy thought—we could go together.”
Damn. She’d expected this conversation. “Rob’s family will be there.”
“Right. I get it.”
“I mean, I’d love to go with you…”
“Okay, let’s do it,” he said quickly.
Shoot. That hadn’t been an invitation. She bit her lip, unsure how to retract the offer. It would be awkward and uncomfortable just having him at the event. Conversations were bound to turn to Rob…It was too soon for this.
But not too soon for three incredible orgasms and casual, semi-teasing talk of a future together?
Damn. Damn. Damn. What did she do?
“Becky?” his voice cut into her thoughts.
“Huh?”
“I was kidding. I understand. It’s too soon,” he said. “Maybe you can save me a dance. I’ll be the one staring at you longingly all night.”
Before she could respond or give it any more thought, he sat across from her. “So, you actually volunteered to make this other kid’s costume?” His voice came from somewhere behind the mountain of cotton batting she’d bought to make the sheep costume.
“Yep,” Becky said, sliding the felt through to the other end and removing it from the machine. She examined the stitching. Good enough. Usually, she was a perfectionist when it came to her projects—often removing stitching and restarting over the smallest mistakes—but not right now.
Right now she was eager to get back to bed…to not sleep some more.
Reaching for the next piece, she yawned and paused. The kids would understand if the costumes weren’t ready and they were replaced by plastic figurines, wouldn’t they?
“Where can I start?” Neil asked.
She leaned around the bags of batting to look at him. “You want to help?”
“No. But if the choice is either help or not get to have you again tonight, I’ll help. Or, most likely hinder, but I’ll try.”
Smiling, her heart full in her chest, she stood and walked around the table toward him. Taking his hand, she pulled him to his feet and led the way out of the room.
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