Christmas Sparks (Stonewater Stories Book 1)

by Ginny Frost

  Just lust.

  That was her story, and she was sticking to it.

  He raised an eyebrow at Margaret, who waved at Earl dismissively. Ryan focused his attention on Earl. “Not a chimney fire. Electrical.”

  The second man nodded. Probably the insurance guy. “I agree, Mr. Kramer. We’ve seen everything needed to process the claim. I appreciate you being here for the examination.” He put a hand out to shake Ryan’s.

  Margaret’s mouth dropped open. Thanking Ryan, not Earl, felt very satisfying.

  “Hold on there.” Earl loomed over the two men, his arms crossed over his chest, his face set to “aggravated.” Margaret shook her head as she assumed a spot next to Jill. Earl started winding up, and she prepped for a quick exit if she needed to get the kids out.

  He glanced at the inspector with a tiny sneer. “The Kramers redid the whole wall, and you’re telling me the electricity caused the fire. You sure on that? Because I’ll sue his ass if his family did this to mine.” Earl huffed, jutting his chin out. Margaret shook her head, hoping Ryan might see.

  “Mr. Porter,” the insurance guy began, “if there is any…”

  “No, I wanna know now. Who did it to my kids, my wife?” He pointed an accusatory finger in Ryan’s face.

  “Ex-wife,” Margaret said, with as much flatness as possible. She grasped Earl’s finger and pulled his hand down. “It isn’t your house anymore, Earl. You shouldn’t even be in here without my say-so.”

  “But you let these yahoos in, didn’t ya? Who knows what evidence he’s planting to clear his father and brothers.” Earl lunged at Ryan.

  Margaret, recognizing his hot-air act, stepped between the men. Part of her wanted to allow him to push past her and let the cards fall where they may. But in front of the kids, no way.

  “Earl, stand down,” she said, placing her hands on his chest to “hold him back” as he expected her to. “Mr. Kramer is a firefighter. I’m sure he’s here helping…”

  “Actually, Mr. Porter,” Ryan interrupted, “I’m the building inspector for the town, and I’ll be in charge of determining what caused the fire. I will, of course, have a report for your insurance.” He held a hand out to indicate the other man, who nodded politely.

  “What a load of horseshit,” Earl sputtered.

  “Language,” Margaret chided. She needed to put a cap on the nonsense, and quickly. “Jill, take your brother to the car, please, and get your backpack.” She turned to the men. “Anyway, let’s finish this up and my ex-husband can be on his way.” She pursed her lips, tipping her head toward Earl.

  ***

  Ryan caught her gaze and picked up the ball. He glanced at the insurance inspector. He’d met the man a half-dozen times before. If the guy’s game remained the same, Ryan would be the one doing all the work and handing in the report. Actually, it made things easier, being in charge. But he hated handling difficult clients. He raised an eyebrow at Earl.

  “I’ll require some time to look over the damage before I send the paperwork.” Ryan nodded at the insurance man, who chimed right in.

  “And once I have the file from the inspector, I’ll assess our cost, and what you’ll be responsible for.” The insurance man smiled weakly.

  “My cost?” Earl bellowed. Daisy still held him back by one hand. Ryan admired the way she handled her ex. Many women he knew would have blown their stacks by now. It was clear she didn’t want him here, but chose not to fight in front of the kids over penny candy.

  “Sir…”

  Earl roared at the insurance man. “Why the hell do I pay for fire insurance if you ain’t gonna pay me?” He whipped around, pointing a finger at Ryan. “Your family’s gonna pay.”

  Indignation rose in Ryan, but he choked back his anger. He glared at Earl. What kind of man screamed at people trying to help him? What kind of man behaved that way in front of his wife and children? In his head, he heard Daisy’s deadpan “ex-wife” and he repressed a smile. She must’ve had a damn good reason for marrying him.

  “Mr. Porter, if you’d allow us to do our work, we’d be happy to share our findings with you. If you’re dissatisfied with the results, you’re welcome to discuss the matter with the mayor. But right now, I need some space to do my job,” Ryan said.

  Earl relented, easing back from Daisy, and she dropped her arms. “I want the details, hear me?” Earl bellowed.

  Ryan nodded, knowing he didn’t have to say a word to him. According to Daisy, the house belonged to her.

  Earl huffed again, obviously posturing. “You better.” Not much of a threat, but Ryan set his chin and furrowed his brow as if serious, too.

  “You probably want to take the kids for some dinner, Earl. Why don’t you three head out, and I’ll finish up here.” Her voice turned sweet, very much the kindergarten teacher.

  Did Earl know how much she manipulated him with that voice? Ryan repressed a smile.

  “But I gotta ta—”

  “No, Earl,” Daisy said in the same sweet voice. “I’ve got this. It’s all details. You go on, and I’ll catch up with you and the kids at the Greenview Inn.”

  Earl’s head snapped up. “You’re staying there?” He started to bluster again.

  She spun, placing a hand on his chest and he wound down immediately. Quite a sight to see.

  “No choice. You herd them over there, and I’ll be right along.” She folded her hands but didn’t move an inch. Those kindergartners must jump when she talks that way.

  Ryan loved it.

  Earl grumbled but called for both kids. He slammed the door of his van and sped out of the driveway. Ryan almost wished she’d forbidden Earl to take the kids. It didn’t quite seem safe. But he was their father, after all.

  Once the van left, Daisy turned to the insurance man. “I’m sorry. Earl doesn’t own the house anymore. He forgets.”

  The insurance guy smiled and held out a hand. “Uh, okay. Then I’ll be in touch with you, Mrs. Porter, about the claim.”

  She nodded, shaking his hand, and Ryan almost heard her think, “Ms. Porter.” With handshakes all around, Margaret turned to leave as well.

  “Daisy,” he called, once the insurance guy, safely in his car, backed down the driveway. She stopped, her back stiffening. “Can we talk privately?”

  “Not the best idea.” She kept her back to him, a shiver shaking her body. Ryan wasn’t sure the cold caused it. “The kids are expecting me.” She waved.

  He sighed. If he could have ten minutes with her alone. Just ten. To talk about whatever it was between them. He had to know if she felt it, too. The first kiss, then at the Inn. He didn’t want the fire and the ex-husband standing between them.

  “Maybe some time when the kids aren’t around, then.” He kept his tone light, hiding his desire. Being professional could be such a pain in the ass.

  She peeked over her shoulder, a wry smile on her lips. Nope, not one-sided. “Maybe when they aren’t around.” Fluffing her hair, she hopped back in her car and sped off.

  Ryan shook his head. If he’d met her before the fire, then… damn. Grinning like a fool, he put himself in check and returned to the task at hand. He and the insurance guy had looked over most of it, but Ryan needed to review one last thing.

  Thus far, the inspection had flowed along easily. The sconces were clearly the source of the fire. Bad electric happened. But, crossing his fingers, he hoped a faulty light caused the blaze, rather than a faulty electrician.

  He removed the blackened fixture and cut away the damaged drywall. Taking a slow breath, he examined the stud nearest the damage. On the wood, in clear black Sharpie, he found his father’s handwriting. The marks signaled David Kramer had completed the electrical and installed the light. Ryan looked at the blackened wires, some without casings.

  Dammit. Kramer and Sons were at fault.

  He stepped back, cursing silently. He wanted to confront his father and brothers. Talk to them. Inform them that their faulty work left a family in the cold at Christmas. The
mantle of guilt draped across his shoulders.

  Chapter Seven

  Taking a huge breath, Ryan knocked on Daisy’s door at the Greenview Inn. His nerves danced. His stomach flopped. He’d waited an hour, to give her family time for dinner. Telling her quickly and in person was the right thing to do. A cold formal report might send the wrong message.

  After a moment, she threw the door open. “What now?” Her voice sounded strained, and her cheeks flushed red. Ryan hardly noticed as the rest of her was wrapped in a big, white terrycloth robe.

  He swallowed hard as his breath drained in a slow leak. Her wet hair and annoyed manner implied she’d left the shower to answer his knock. Her robe said, “I’m naked under here.”

  He forgot how to speak. Margaret looked him up and down, her mouth in a thin line. Slowly, her lips curled up.

  “Sorry, Ryan. I thought you were Earl, bringing the kids back. I was ready to blast him.”

  Ryan bit back his news about the wiring. The bathrobe took precedence.

  “Uh, no,” he said, searching for syllables that didn’t make him sound stupid. “You’re alone?” He raised an eyebrow, conscious of how lecherous it sounded.

  Margaret’s grin brightened a thousand watts. “Why, yes. Wanna come in?” She slid to the side of the doorway, allowing him passage. He didn’t run, but he didn’t walk.

  She closed the door behind him. “To what do I owe a personal visit?” Now that he knew her better, coy looked silly on her, and he grinned.

  “No kids, exotic locale, bathrobe. How could I resist?” He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her terry-clothed middle.

  A laugh escaped her. “How could you know? Her arms snaked around his neck, her hips shifting to line up with his.

  “Does it matter?”

  “No.” Her words breathless, she pulled him down for a deep kiss. His clipboard clattered to the floor, forgotten.

  ***

  Having Ryan, in her room, at the perfect moment was better than a night alone with no kids. She kissed him like her life depended on it, all tongue and teeth and the warmth of his mouth. She was drowning, and he was oxygen. They stood locked together, kissing with a passion she and Earl never had, even on their best days.

  Ryan’s hands roamed everywhere except the robe belt. Such a gentleman. He obviously didn’t have kids. He never experienced fast and dirty sex before the baby woke up.

  She dragged her hands down his back, over his ass. He moaned into her mouth, squeezing her tighter. She let her fingers dance around until she found the tie to the bathrobe and released it.

  Ryan’s hands swooped inside the garment the second it opened. He touched her skin in light delicate sweeps, driving her crazy.

  She had no time for foreplay. The kids, the maid, Earl might return any minute. Her hands already strategically located, she found his fly and wrenched it open.

  “Daisy,” he said, pulling back from the kisses, breathless.

  “No time like the present, Ry.” She winked, running her fingers inside his jeans.

  He groaned, almost shocked but not enough to make her stop. He shifted closer, only to have her spin away.

  Stopping next to the bedpost, she flung up one arm up to display the massive canopy. “Check out the beautiful, antique bed.” Dipping her other shoulder, she allowed the robe to slide off her arm.

  “Damn,” Ryan whispered. “You sure?”

  Margaret peeked over her shoulder where the cloth hung down. “Do I look sure?” She grinned and hopped into the bed. Ryan followed in her wake, crushing her to the mattress as they both fell across it.

  He kissed her, his lips finding her collarbone, her shoulder, slowly moving down her body. Between kisses, he panted a few words, “I don’t usually…” kiss… “this soon…” kiss… “but you…” kiss… “and…” He found her breast and finally shut up.

  She moaned, grinding against his leg. “I don’t usually go so fast either, Ry. But you are sex on a stick. I want you. Whatever you want to give. I’m yours.”

  And she realized she meant it.

  She wanted him. For one night, or however long it lasted. The whole disaster with his family, Earl being such a dick, her divorce so new.

  She’d spent too much time being a mom—to her kids, at her job which she loved with her whole heart, and to Earl, a child himself. She wanted Ryan to make her feel like a woman, a real person beyond the apron strings and the PTA. His touch made her feel alive, real, and if it was only for tonight, fine. But she’d make it last.

  “Ryan,” she whispered, tracing her hands over his back and into his hair.

  He lifted his gaze to hers and those amber eyes said volumes. He paused in his exploration of her breasts. “Tell me what you need. Anything. I’ll do anything.”

  Her body shook as his words sunk in. Not a promise she’d ever heard. “Even windows?”

  “Even windows.” His mouth met hers again, and his hands slid down the length of her body. “I hope this is what you mean by windows.” His fingers settled into her cleft, slow circles that drove her mad. She groaned and bucked against his hand.

  “Oh, my mistake,” he said, sliding his fingers back. She gripped his shoulders, afraid he wasn’t kidding.

  “Ry,” she panted. “Don’t stop, don’t…” But she never finished the thought. Her breath rushed from her in a gush as his lips brushed her thighs.

  ***

  Ryan suppressed a grin as he kissed up her legs, using the tips of his fingers to slowly push her legs apart. The sounds emanating from her validated every feeling he had for her. Here was a woman neglected. Not just her house, and her kids, but her body, her soul. He’d wanted to be part of the solution. He wanted her high and satisfied, even if only for tonight.

  She reacted to every touch, every caress with a boisterous energy he’d come to expect from the sex kitten hidden behind the kindergarten teacher façade. It didn’t take her long to crash over the top—a long, low moan that shook the bed. He grinned.

  “Oh, Ryan.” Her voice throaty, sexy. With the job half done, he needed to make her come again, with him inside.

  “Windows now?” He crawled up her body, enjoying every inch of it.

  “Oh, God. Yes.” She grabbed his arms and heaved him forward, his body covering hers. “Windows now.”

  He paused, a realization hitting him like a bucket of ice water. “I don’t have any…” He waved a hand. “You know.”

  “Damn, I thought that’s why you came here.”

  Ryan pressed his lips shut. Not the time to drop the bombshell. She might hate him later for waiting. But opening such a can of worms now? No way.

  He started to sit back on his heels. “Well, then… I guess.” He hated the disappointment in his voice.

  “In my purse,” she said, pointing to the bedside table. “Long story. Teenage daughter, sex ed. Big adult discussions. Anyway, in the purse.”

  He leaned over the bed, his fingers snagging a soft leather strap. Other ideas surged in his mind as he grabbed the extra-long handle. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thoughts. No time to explore the wild side tonight. He pulled the bag up and handed it to her.

  She pursed her lips. “Seriously, you could’ve looked inside.”

  Ryan held his hands up, palm out. His father always acted like a gentleman to the ladies and taught Ryan to respect women. His brothers seemed to have missed the lesson.

  Quickly, she dug through the bag, extracting an open three-pack of condoms. As she dumped the contents on the bed, he noticed only two fell out. He raised his eyebrow. Slapping at his arms, she chided, “I told you. Sex ed. And I threw the banana out.”

  He couldn’t hold back any longer. The whole weird, over-heated, silly situation rolled over him. He fell back, laughter pouring from his lips. “Wow, not what I expected. Is the banana your fruit of choice?” He snickered into his hand.

  “Wha…” She looked at him quizzically before it dawned on her. She poked his arm. “Mister, I’m not that des
perate. I showed Jill how to put one on. I didn’t use it for myself.”

  He barked with laughter, rolling onto his back. “And I’m supposed to believe you?” He knew it to be true, but teasing her was too much fun.

  “Yes.” She slid a leg over him, sitting firmly on his thighs.

  That got his attention, the distraction from the condom search forgotten. Physically and mentally, he snapped back to the beautiful woman before him. His cock stood at full attention, inches from her thighs.

  “Wanna see a demonstration of my skills?” His body strained as the words escaped her lips. She smiled an evil, villainous, wonderful grin. He’d remember that smile for years to come.

  Flipping her hair back, she put the edge of the condom wrapper in her mouth and ripped it open with a twist of her wrist.

  He gulped.

  In a deeply erotic move, she slowly rolled the latex over the length of him. Her fingers brushed his skin from time to time, sending waves of heat up his body. When she reached the bottom of his shaft, she squeezed.

  “Like it?”

  He had no words, merely grabbed her arms and pulled her down on top of him. With a few adjustments, he thrust into her, finding the meaning of the word perfect. They moved together as if they’d made love a thousand times. She seemed to read him perfectly, giving and taking as needed. Totally in sync, they rolled over, and he pounded her into the ornate old bed.

  Finally, Margaret threw her head back, her body squeezing him tight. “Oh, Ryan. Yes.” And her words, her motions threw him over the edge he’d been teetering on from the start. He came, only regretting it ending so soon.

  Panting, he dipped his head to kiss her collarbone. She squirmed and sighed. He wanted to stay there with her in that bed forever. The ugly news could wait another day. It was Christmas.

  ***

  Margaret basked in the afterglow. Ryan had been so generous. Having two orgasms was simply unheard of. More than ever, she wanted Ryan in her life. Even if he was a Kramer.

  After a few quiet minutes together, he stood and took care of the condom. She joined him, sitting on the edge of the bed, lamenting the loss of his arms. They’d figure it out, together.