Beach Blanket Santa (Holiday Brides Series)

by Baird, Ginny

  Her pretty mouth drew up at the corners. “You know, I was thinking… I’m feeling a little cage crazy in here.”

  “Seriously? I was just thinking the same thing.” In fact, he’d awakened this morning feeling a dire need to stretch his legs. Get out on the beach for a long walk. Only he hadn’t wanted to inconvenience Sarah by suggesting she join him during the still-bad weather. He equally hadn’t wished to cut out on her and leave her in the cottage all alone.

  “Want to go for a walk?”

  “I’d love that. Anything to get some fresh air. How about if we go right after lunch?” He paused a beat. “Only…”

  “What?”

  “Did you come prepared for rain? Bring any gear?”

  She reached over to a side cabinet and lifted a bright red, compact umbrella.

  In spite of himself, Matt spurted a laugh. “I meant real rain gear. A slicker or something?”

  She shook her head, loose tendrils spiraling. Matt recalled the feel of his fingers in her luscious hair as he’d cradled her head in his hands and kissed that glorious mouth. He found himself aching to kiss her again but knew he wouldn’t until she was ready.

  “Even though the rain’s let up, it’s still coming down hard enough that I don’t think you should go out with that. Not with those ocean winds at play. Tell you what,” he said with a smile. “Why don’t you borrow a slicker of mine? I brought two.”

  “Two?”

  “I like to fish here, and I’m never sure what the weather will be. I learned some time ago it’s good to bring a backup supply of clothing. Helps ensure I don’t miss any opportunities.”

  She met his gaze. “That’s really nice of you, thanks. I think I’ll take you up on it.”

  By early afternoon they were laughing companionably about the oversized fit of Matt’s slicker on Sarah’s small frame. “I feel like the Incredible Hulk or something,” she said with a giggle. “Something lumbering and large that’s about to make its way down the beach. Do you think I’ll scare the sand crabs?”

  “You’re far better looking than the Hulk.” Blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Besides, for the next day or two, I don’t think we’ll be running into much of anything out there, apart from maybe a few hungry gulls.”

  Sarah’s heart warmed at the thought of spending a few more days in Matt’s company. She’d never felt so comfortable around a man. He was alluring and attractive but had never once used his charms to try to seduce her. Instead, he’d played the perfect gentleman, keeping his distance just enough to drive her wild.

  “Shall we bring the umbrella?” she asked as they headed for the door.

  “Only if you want to watch it flip inside out and risk lifting off into the sky like Mary Poppins.”

  She grinned and tossed the umbrella across the room and onto the sofa. Sarah recalled a lot of Christmas Eves but certainly couldn’t remember any of them being like this. Despite the gloomy weather, this one was off to a great start.

  Matt offered Sarah a hand as she made her way down the slick steps. She settled her glove in his grip, the wind whipping her hair wildly about her face. Hers was the face of a Madonna, tinged pink from the nip in the air, her dark eyes warming him even in spite of the chill. He was glad he’d encouraged her to layer up. Thanks to the cold front that had rolled in, temperatures were now in the thirties, icy rain pinging against them like tiny sharp needles. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern. “If it’s too rough for you, we can turn back.”

  She stepped off the last wooden stair, releasing his hand. “Not on your life,” she said as the winds blew. He loved that she was feisty, undaunted by the challenge. Some girls might have whimpered and begged to hole up by the fire. Not Sarah in her puffed out Incredible Hulk outfit, he thought with a smile. “Then you might want to tighten your hood a bit to keep your hair from getting wet.”

  She nodded and fumbled with drawstrings but couldn’t seem to work them in her gloves. Matt hadn’t worn any. Then again, he was a lot more toughened to the elements than Sarah.

  “Here, let me do that,” he said, reaching forward to adjust them until they fit right. “Perfect,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Ready to roll?”

  “I think I’m ready to run!” she said, her teeth chattering slightly. “Standing still lets the damp sink in.”

  Matt twisted his lips in a smile. “You want to run down the beach through the rain?”

  “No,” she said, her dark eyes daring. “I want you to see if you can catch me.”

  Before he knew it, she’d taken off, dashing way ahead of him. Matt chuckled, racing after her, trailing her as she tore along the beach beside the crashing waves. He was closing in and she knew it, giggling like a kid trying to keep her distance. But it was useless. In no time at all, he’d reached her and caught her from behind in his arms. “Ha!” he cried with delight. “Think you could get away from me, did you, lassie?”

  She laughed out loud, apparently taken with his pirate talk.

  He spun her toward him in his arms, the rain coming down in icy prickles all around them.

  She looked up at him through the wind and the rain, her eyes a soulful invitation. He’d be damned if he didn’t want to kiss her. And he was nearly damned sure that she wanted him too. Nearly, but not one hundred percent. The last thing he wanted to do was have her run away from him again or to tell him to get packing. Matt didn’t know why, but he wasn’t sure his heart could take that. Just in these few days together, Sarah had gotten to him in a way he didn’t believe possible. And, if she could do this much damage after just a few days, he wasn’t sure what kind of shape he’d be in at the end of the week. The first time they’d been together, Matt had blown it badly by not following through. If he’d heeded his instincts three years ago, when Sarah had told him to go, he would have asked why and tried to talk it out. Instead, he’d turned like a chastised puppy dog with his tail between his legs and had rushed off, never fully understanding what had gone wrong. Matt wasn’t prepared to risk that again. Not with someone like Sarah. Not when just looking in her eyes made his head swim and his pulse race faster.

  Sarah stared up at Matt as the elements raged around them. In spite of the storm, she felt sheltered in his arms, as if she’d found her safe harbor. Something about being with Matt felt so right. How she wished this feeling could go on forever. But there were things about her Matt didn’t know. A deep secret that would likely alter his opinion of her and cause him to question becoming involved on more than a casual basis.

  “Sarah,” he said, his lips hovering above hers. “I’m glad that it worked out this way. That the fates, karma, whatever…somehow put us here together.”

  “I’m glad too.”

  “Promise me something.” He looked deep in her eyes. Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. “Promise you won’t run away again without giving me a chance, really taking the time to know me.”

  But she couldn’t promise him that. Couldn’t promise absolutely. Just look at what had happened in the past. Of course, neither of her former boyfriends had been halfway as terrific as Matt, which made things all the harder. More than anything, she wanted to open her heart up to this new opportunity. But, when push came to shove, would she be able to? “I can promise I’ll try,” she said, barely breathing the words.

  He steadied her chin in his hand. “There’s a rainbow after every storm. You just need to believe it.”

  She nodded still holding his gaze. The next thing she knew, Matt was pulling her close, bringing his mouth to hers in the rain. “Sarah,” he said. He kissed her sweetly, first once, then again and again. “My sweet Sarah, all we need is time.” How she wished that were true. The trouble was, she didn’t know how much time they really had. But instead of saying so, she let him kiss her over and over, until his soft kisses became deeper ones, and her knees melted like butter.

  Chapter Six

  Later that evening, Matt and Sarah warmed themselves by the fire. They’d come in soaked but happy from
their adventures on the beach, and ravenously hungry besides. The prefab frozen lasagna dinner Sarah had prepared actually wasn’t bad. Pairing it with the nice Chianti she’d brought proved a plus, and both had totally enjoyed Matt’s homemade garlic bread. Now they sat with two goblets of wine, listening to blues music and the haunting melody of the rain.

  It was the most romantic Christmas Eve Matt could remember. If only he had a way to do something special for Sarah and make her really feel the spirit of the holiday. “It’s too bad we don’t have stockings to hang from the mantel.”

  “We could always hang up our socks,” she said with a grin.

  “I don’t think you want mine anywhere near a heat source. Especially the ones I went fishing in.”

  She laughed, seeming to guess that was true. “There is a washer in this house, you know.”

  “Yes. I plan to take advantage of it.” He clinked his glass to hers. “Tomorrow.”

  “It’s so hard to believe tomorrow’s Christmas,” she said with a sigh.

  Matt shot her a wink. “We’ll have to tuck in early so Santa can come.”

  “Sure,” she said, smiling. “Santa and all his reindeer too.”

  Matt had pondered the problem all evening. Even given the limited resources at his disposal, he had to come up with some sort of gift. Nothing fancy. Just something to show he’d thought of her. The question was what? Matt had a feeling the answer was right at the tips of his fingers, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. “If you could have anything in the world you want, what would you ask for?”

  “Anything? That leaves the field wide open.”

  “I suppose it does.”

  “You first.”

  “Me?”

  “Fair’s fair, Matt. I’m not telling if you won’t.”

  He shared a thoughtful gaze. “Well… If I’m being really honest, I guess what I want… We’re talking some day…” He held her hand and smiled, sending wild butterflies fluttering inside her. “Is what my parents have. That kind of life.” Naturally he would. Theirs was such a lovely example to follow, Sarah thought with a touch of melancholy.

  “That makes perfect sense,” she said softly.

  “Now you,” he urged, giving her hand a light squeeze.

  She considered this a moment, watching the flames dance and leap in the hearth. After a beat she turned her face to his, her cheeks warm from the fire. “If I really could have anything…”

  “Anything,” he said for emphasis.

  “Well,” she said truthfully, “I’ve always wanted to visit Tasmania. See the Southern Cross.”

  “Tasmania, huh?” he said with surprise. “That’s quite a wish!”

  She nudged him with her elbow. “You did say anything.”

  “Tasmania’s a nice dream. Nothing at all the matter with that.” He wrapped his arm around her and tucked her in close. “It’s just a little tough to fit under a tree.”

  “That’s the other thing,” she said, looking up at him.

  “What is?”

  “A tree. I’ve always thought it would be really lovely to have a tree. A real live Christmas tree.”

  Matt knew she’d said her mom hadn’t ever celebrated, but he was a tad surprised she’d never bought a tree of her own. “You’ve never had one?”

  “I did break down and buy a small Christmas tree prism. It hangs from the rearview mirror of my SUV.”

  “I meant, for your apartment?”

  “It hardly seemed practical with no ornaments to put on it.”

  “You can buy those.”

  She looked at him sincerely. “That’s not the same. Tree ornaments were meant to be homemade.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because,” she said with certainty, “it means they were made with love. And that’s really what the season’s about in so many ways.”

  “You never made any yourself?”

  She hung her head, averting his gaze. “I’m about as crafty as I am a Betty Crocker.”

  He chuckled lightly, tightening his embrace around her shoulders. “You’re a wonderful Betty Crocker. The best cook I’ve ever met, in fact.”

  She slowly met his eyes, the firelight catching in hers. “Honestly?”

  “Honey, there’s no one I’d rather bake cookies with.”

  She beamed at him. How he loved it when she smiled. In fact, her smile was quickly becoming one of Matt’s favorite things. “Thanks for saying that, even if it’s not true.”

  “But it is true,” he protested with a laugh. It was too. There was no other woman he wanted in his arms when giving instructions on the rolling pin.

  “In any case,” she continued, “I’m sure I’ll get one someday. A Christmas tree, I mean. I’d really like to, anyhow.”

  Matt held her close, the most brilliant idea occurring. It wouldn’t be exact, but it might work well enough. If only he could find that box Robert kept below the house.

  A little while later, Matt had kissed her sweetly and said they should rest up for Christmas Day. Sarah went to bed, but her restless emotions had kept her tossing and turning for hours. On one hand, she was elated that a man as incredible as Matt would take an interest in her. He was dynamite to be around and every bit the fantastic kisser she’d remembered. Conversely, she felt down knowing what she kept from him. Could she really hope he’d still want to see her if he knew the truth? Sarah still wasn’t done dealing with it, and it had caused her untold hours of anguish. She hadn’t even dared to tell her best friend. Somehow, by sharing bad news, you made it that much more real. As long as she dealt with this alone, she could handle it. Then again, handling things alone meant that alone was how she’d always be.

  Sarah rolled onto her side and hugged her pillow, a tear sliding down her cheek. In the soft glow of the nightlight, she could make out the contours of her room and its huge windows framing the sea. Though she couldn’t view it due to the darkness, she could still hear the pounding of the waves against the shore. The rain must have let up; before, its fierce ruckus had overtaken the ocean’s roar.

  Sarah sat up under the covers, thinking she’d heard the screen door creak open. But how could that be? She studied the clock on the nightstand. It was nearly four a.m. She slid into her slippers, determined to check, and hoping that Matt had heard it too. Even if it had just been the wind knocking the screen door ajar, she’d feel much safer checking it with big, strapping Matt around. Spying her cell on the dresser, she got an idea. She’d call Matt and ask if he’d heard something too. No, that was silly. She couldn’t possibly wake him for an unlikely reason. For all intents and purposes, they were marooned on this island together. Who knew how close their nearest neighbor was? She’d initially assumed the house next door was occupied, but as it turned out, that high-end hybrid SUV that had been parked in the drive belonged to Matt. It probably was just the wind, Sarah told herself, trying to settle back down. She sat on the bed, but a split second later heard the same noise again. She sprang to her feet, grabbing the nearest weapon she could find, her bright red umbrella. With a shaky hand, she opened the door to the living area, hoping to goodness this was all in her mind. Surely she’d check the house and find everything clear. Otherwise, she aimed to beeline it into Matt’s room just as quickly as she could, propriety be damned.

  The second she stepped over the threshold, a bright beam of light pierced her vision.

  “Sarah!” Matt called from the doorway, steadying his flashlight in her direction.

  “Matt!” she cried, equally in shock. “What are you doing?” He wore a damp rain slicker and appeared to be carting some sort of box indoors.

  He set down the box and lowered the beam of his flashlight. When he spoke again, he sounded slightly out of breath. “Fishing.”

  “Fishing?”

  “Yeah, I…” He smiled tightly. “Though you’d appreciate a nice Christmas dinner. Catch of the Day?” he said with a shrug.

  Sarah thought something smelled fishy, all right. Since when did
people catch fish at four a.m.? And who in their right mind would pack them in cardboard?

  He stared at the umbrella angled high in her hand. “Where were you going with that?”

  “To beat the living daylights out of whoever was breaking in here.”

  “What if it had been Santa? Since when have you taken to clubbing geriatric citizens?”

  Sarah lowered the umbrella and narrowed her gaze. “Hmm, yes,” she said, growing suspicious. “What’s in the box?”

  Matt scratched his head, his eyes darting toward the door, then back toward hers again. “Can’t say.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t/won’t. There’s a slash in there.”

  “Matt…” she began. “I’m sure you weren’t fishing.”

  “Got me there,” he said brightly. “Doesn’t mean I’m not about to!”

  “You mean you’re going down on the beach now?”

  “Down on the beach. Into the waves. Knee-deep if I have to. Yup.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then, I’m headed straight back up here and hitting the hay. Precisely as you ought to.” He went about his work as he spoke, hoisting the mysterious box and sliding it into his bedroom, then reemerging with a tackle box and his fishing pole and its holder. My, he was acting strange. Odder than she’d ever seen him.

  “Are you sure you should be fishing at this hour?”

  “Sarah, I’m a man of the wild. Nature and I? We’re like this.” He set down his gear to lace his hands together in a tug. “Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll be back before long and will see you in the morning.”

  “All right. If you’re sure?”

  “Megapositive,” he said, picking up his gear and flashing her a grin.

  Matt left his gear under the house, then headed for the beach, the beam of his flashlight leading. Whew! That had been close. He wasn’t sure whether Sarah had believed his fishing story, but one way or another, he was confident things would come out fine. Now, if he could just locate that huge piece of driftwood he’d spotted when he and Sarah had been here earlier today…