Be My Midnight Kiss

by Jean Brashear

Chapter Ten

  On Christmas Eve after she’d returned from Sweetgrass to her place with as much haste as possible, Steph toasted Jimmy Stewart with her eggnog. “Here’s to sappy movies, pal. You made the best.” The joyous faces and uplifted voices of It’s A Wonderful Life shone from her TV screen, and she wiped away a traitorous tear. “Idiot. What’s wrong with you?” But as she hit the power button on the remote and the screen went dark, she knew. Not only was it Christmas, but Laken’s wedding had had everyone on an emotional high. She’d had to get out of there.

  She loathed Christmas worse than any other holiday. It was all about families, and every avenue to escape it was closed. No stores open, no clubs to lose yourself in music and dancing and whatever else might ensue that would help you pass the time until the world got back to normal.

  There might be a bar open somewhere, maybe, full of people without families, but she just didn’t have the heart to go look for it. She could manage one night, anyway. Not like she hadn’t done it before.

  She padded across the loft in fuzzy socks to get more eggnog. Halfway there, her buzzer sounded, and Steph glanced at the clock in surprise. Almost midnight.

  The buzzer again.

  She shrugged. “What the hell. Might as well see who it is. Probably just some curious drunk.” She hit the button. “We gave at the office.”

  “Now, sugar, is that any way to talk to a man bearing gifts?”

  Gavin. “I’m not speaking to you. Go away.” Where had he been while she’d been on pins and needles to know what he thought of her present? Giving him a window had been a stupid idea, hadn’t she known that? “Why are you here at this hour?”

  “Santa Claus has a lot of territory to cover. I just finished sneaking off Ellie’s roof.”

  “You played Santa Claus for them?”

  “I’m pretty sure that up there where you’re warm is a better place to have this discussion, sweetheart. That is, unless you have company already.” His tone went bitter.

  “I should say yes.”

  “Open up, Stephanie.”

  “Don’t call me sweetheart.” But she hit the buzzer. “You better mean that about gifts.”

  “Would Santa be coming to such a good girl empty-handed?” Again the note of sarcasm.

  But why should she care? Still, even Gavin in a testy mood was a welcome distraction.

  She heard his footsteps on the stairs and yanked the door open. “Where have you been? Why haven’t—” She burst out laughing.

  The transformation was amazing. His powerful frame made an impressive Santa, but he was much plumper than normal. Friendly blue eyes gleamed at her above a snowy-white beard. He brandished a large package. “Nice to see you smiling, even at my expense.”

  Steph stepped back and let him inside. “What’s padding you? You’re not that big.”

  Gavin waggled his fake white eyebrows at her. “Good to hear you’ve been paying attention. And here I thought you only noticed my handyman skills.”

  She moved closer, but he stepped away. “Oh, no. No prodding and poking at St. Nick. Inappropriate behavior, Ms. Hargrove. Only good girls receive gifts.”

  The dark edge to his tone was gone, and his good humor was infectious. For the first time in nearly a week, Steph’s heart lifted. “All right, spoilsport. So what’s in the package?”

  “What makes you think it’s for you?”

  “Uh-uh. You’re too honorable. You’d never wave a package under my nose and then take it away. Now give.”

  “Now give,” he echoed. “It’s not Christmas morning, or barely that. This goes under the tree.” He looked around the room, then back at her. “No tree?”

  “A waste of resources.” She jutted her chin.

  “Not even artificial?”

  One string of lights haphazardly draped over the bookcase. A couple of poinsettias. For the first time, she saw how sterile this must look, especially if he’d been at Ellie’s.

  “Never mind that. How about sharing a little of that eggnog with Santa?”

  Steph glanced back at him, peering closely for any sign of pity. If it was pity, he’d be back out the door before he could blink.

  He smiled and sat down on her big overstuffed chair, setting the package to one side and patting his lap. “On second thought, why don’t you come sit here, little girl, and tell me what you want Santa to bring you?”

  “Santa as a dirty old man. Now that’s more my style.”

  Gavin shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. “No, Stephanie. It isn’t. Now come here and let me give you your present.” He held out a hand in welcome.

  She felt suddenly shy. “No eggnog first?”

  “Not yet. I’m melting in this outfit.”

  More eager than she wanted to admit, Steph approached. She had no idea what could be in the box, but she couldn’t resist the unexpected treat. “But I don’t have a present for you.”

  “A little elf delivered one to my back door.”

  “That was a housewarming gift. Did you—never mind.” If he hated it she didn’t want to know.

  His gloved hand turned her face to him. “It’s a beautiful window, Stephanie. Perfect.”

  “So why—” She clamped her mouth shut.

  “I needed to think,” he said. “And I had something to finish. This is not the night to argue, sweetheart. This night the whole world brims with love. We’ll talk more about the window, but for now, forget the debate and let me see your face when you open this.”

  At that moment, the child inside her that Steph had long assumed dead chose to make its appearance. Though she knew it was Gavin in the costume, that little girl wanted to sit on his lap and open the present she hadn’t anticipated. A gift, in the purest sense of the word.

  She pulled the box to her as she settled on his lap, feeling unaccountably shy but also supremely protected. Even more than she wanted to open the gift, she longed to cuddle against him, to lean her head on his shoulder and be a different Steph than the world saw every day.

  Nonsense. She hugged the package to her as solemn blue eyes studied hers. “Am I too heavy?”

  “Not a bit. I’m pretty sure I could be happy like this for a long while.”

  Inside Steph something eased, uncoiling when she hadn’t known she was tightly wound. “We’re so different.”

  “Yes.” He nodded, his smile solemn. “That’s us, sugar. The Odd Couple. But opposites attract, you know.”

  She didn’t have a sassy comeback this time. “Are we? A couple?”

  His gaze never left hers. “That’s up to you. Me, I’m thinking yes.”

  “But why, Gavin? I’m—”

  “Sh-h-h,” he whispered, placing one gloved finger across her lips. “‘It’s pointless to wonder why, sweetheart. I’ll gladly talk for hours about what I love in you, but it isn’t your head you should be heeding. It’s your heart you should be hearing.”

  Love? No. “I don’t let my heart call the shots, and you shouldn’t. You barely know me.”

  “Ah, but you, my stubborn sweetheart, can’t tell my heart whom to adore.” He bounced her gently. “Now will you open this present before I expire from the heat?”

  “Sorry.” She was surprised to feel reluctant. Once she started opening the wrapping, it would soon be over, this special surprise. “Maybe I’ll wait until it’s actual morning, after all.”

  He shrugged. “You can wait…but I’m not leaving until I see your face.” He stretched and yawned. “Best be getting the sofa ready, Stephanie darlin’. It’s been a long day.” But his smile was wide as if he was certain she’d crack.

  She hugged it once more. “Thank you, Gavin. This is a wonderful surprise.”

  “So was my window.” Pleasure beamed from his face. “I hope you like what’s inside half as much.”

  For the first time, she understood that he was nervous, and somehow that settled her. She began to open it carefully.

  “Hmmm. I always pictured you tearing into packages, ripping pap
er with abandon.”

  She shot him a glance, then grinned. “Oh, what the hell—you’re right.” She reverted to type and tore at the wrapping, eager to get inside.

  Once she did, her heart stuttered. Lifting out the most exquisite wooden jewelry box she’d ever seen, Steph gasped, “Oh, Gavin—this is beautiful.” She pushed the wrappings aside and settled the gift on her lap, running her fingers over the silky-smooth edges, the tiny golden hinges, the beautiful carving of a Celtic design with her name worked inside the coils.

  She glanced at Gavin, who watched her closely. “I’ve never seen anything so exquisite. You made this, didn’t you?”

  He nodded solemnly. “Don’t you want to look inside?”

  “I do.” Barely able to tear her gaze away from his, she started to open the lid, but it didn’t immediately lift.

  “Here, press this.” His gloved hand was too big, so he bared it, then pointed to a tiny recess.

  Steph marveled that those big hands could perform such delicate artistry. With trembling fingers, she pressed against the recess and heard a click. The lid opened slightly, and she raised it to peer inside.

  She gasped. Delicate as the air, a slender golden chain rested on dark blue velvet, a heart worked in hammered gold dangling from it, a blood-red ruby nestled inside the gold. She lifted it in her fingers and watched it catch the light, then darted her gaze to Gavin.

  Who looked less certain of himself than she’d ever seen him. She thought she liked that, and she smiled.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  There was no way she could tease a man whose heart was in his eyes like that. No matter how much it frightened her or what accepting this might mean.

  But she had to ask. “What does this mean, Gavin?”

  “It’s only a little trinket, nothing special.” But his eyes told the lie.

  “Gavin, I…”

  “Let’s see how it looks.” He shed his remaining glove, then took the necklace from her. “Turn around.”

  Steph obeyed, and he fastened it around her neck, then opened the top of the jewelry box wider so she could examine it in the mirror. The heart lay nestled just below the hollow of her throat, the ruby catching the light.

  Gavin’s finger traced around the heart, and his touch burned against her skin. Their eyes met in the mirror.

  Steph swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Gavin, I’m overwhelmed. The necklace…I’ve never had anything so delicate. And the box is incredible. I’m stunned that you made it for me. You shouldn’t be building houses. You’re an artisan. You could make a fortune on something like this.”

  “Maybe, but a fortune isn’t important to me, darlin’. I don’t want all kinds of people buying work I completed in haste to satisfy a banker. Money is not the measure, it’s the pleasure in the eyes of the recipient that’s my reward. The hours I spend are precious to me, and I will not invest them paying overhead or keeping my attention on the bottom line. This work is my joy, and it’s enough for me to be present to see the reaction when my work is received.”

  “Did you see what you needed tonight?” She couldn’t imagine the hours this must have taken.

  He nodded solemnly, “I did.”

  “I’m glad, because for once in my life, words fail me.”

  He chuckled softly. “Now that in itself is a feat to trumpet.”

  “Want your thank-you kiss now?”

  He shook his head. “I want out of this suit first.” Gavin shifted beneath her.

  “Wait—let me.” Carefully, she laid the jewelry box on the side table. She removed his hat first, then his beard. Beneath them, his face was shiny with sweat, his shaggy hair matted down. She ran her fingers through it, lifting the strands and blowing through pursed lips to cool him. He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure.

  Then she began unbuttoning the jacket. “Good grief,” she laughed. “No wonder you’re sweating. Poor man—is this a down vest underneath?”

  “I had to make it look authentic, and I couldn’t gain fifty pounds in time.”

  She laughed, unzipping the vest, too, while he peeled off the eyebrows. She stripped the vest away but stopped in mid-gesture at the sight of his muscular frame clearly outlined by a sweat-soaked t-shirt. “My, Santa, what nice muscles you have,” she attempted to joke through a throat that had tightened with lust.

  She was touched to realize that Gavin was blushing, actually blushing. He leaned forward and pulled the jacket and vest from behind him and dumped them on the floor. When she started to rise, he used his other hand to pin her to his lap. “You’re fine right there.”

  But she wasn’t sure anymore. He’d played havoc with her heart for weeks now. The kisses they’d shared glowed in her memory like a beacon. And now he’d thrown gasoline on a fire with his gift.

  She was so afraid he’d put her off again if she asked him to make love with her. She bunched her muscles to escape, but he stopped her again.

  “So you’re planning to renege on your thank you?” His gaze pinned her, suddenly angry and fierce. “Is it because of the guy you were with a few nights ago?”

  “What guy?”

  “The one with the black leather jacket.”

  “You were watching me? Spying on me?” She reached for the clasp of the necklace. “Forget it. Take this back. Take all of it.” She leaped from his lap. “Get out.”

  He rose, towering over her. “I won’t. I wasn’t spying. I’d wanted to come see you because I missed you. But you were up to your old tricks, weren’t you?”

  “So what if I was?” But she hadn’t been. She’d thought about it, yes, because she wasn’t ready to make Gavin any promises they would both regret down the road.

  “How can you do that?” His expression was thunderous. “You’d brought me a window, damn it, a perfect one. Then you went out with some asshole who’s not worth half of you because you’re frightened of what’s between us?”

  Not worth half of you. Even now he defended her. She had to make him leave. She couldn’t give in, couldn’t let herself—“I said get out. You don’t know anything, you—you big jerk,” she spat.

  Those blue eyes speared into her, taking their time—too much time, damn him. Studying her like some bug on a pin.

  Then a smile spread on his face.

  “Don’t you smile at me.” She pointed at the door again. “I said go away. And take your gifts with you.”

  “You sent him packing, didn’t you? But you won’t admit that because you’re scared. Come here.” He took a step toward her.

  She took a step back. “Don’t touch me.”

  He didn’t slow, and she couldn’t seem to move. Then his big hand was on her cheek, and he was examining her too closely, seeing too much. “You fight yourself as much as me, sweetheart. Why are you so afraid for me to love you?”

  “You can’t love me, Gavin. Don’t.” She closed her eyes. “Please don’t.”

  But it was too late. His lips were on hers. At first gentle and soft, easing hers into parting, then sipping, tasting with small, deadly kisses, each one destroying her resistance with their tenderness.

  “Stephanie…” He groaned and drew her into him, that hard body that felt so much like a shelter in which she could hide. Could leave behind so much pain, so much sadness…

  His mouth cruised over her face, down her throat, stealing the breath from her as his hands untied her robe.

  For a second, she stirred, aware of how un-sexy her flannel boxers were.

  “Sh-h. I’ll never think of Yosemite Sam the same way again, sugar.” His soft chuckle faded as his mouth danced a new and devastating glissade over her skin. He bared her body as he was baring her heart, walking her slowly backward toward her bedroom, then impatiently, gloriously sweeping her up into his arms.

  I can’t promise, she wanted to protest. This won’t last, she needed to warn him because he was so good, so kind, so…

  Sexy. Sweet heaven, the man was driving her out of her mind, taking time—
so much of it, too much of it until she would scream—to tease at odd spots on her body, avoiding the clearly sexual and in the process, driving her up and up and up, his touch electrifying—

  Steph crested with a cry. Soared and floated for endless moments as she marveled that he’d made her come without ever even—

  “Oh, dear mercy…” Was that her voice so high and thin as his tongue swirled around her nipple? She felt his chuckle against her more than heard it. “Gavin…”

  “Sh-h, sweetheart. Simply relax.”

  Relax? Then she realized that he’d stripped away his own clothes. Watched that big, hard, warm body cover hers.

  Oh, how good he felt. How much she relished the sensation of him—she, who was nearly always on top. Who preferred it that way.

  But Gavin was teaching her how little she knew as he continued his assault on her senses, devastating her every defense, dismantling them as though they were a child’s blocks.

  “Gavin, let me—” She was rising again as his fingers, his tongue, his heated breath… “Don’t—”

  “Again, sweetheart.” His voice was warm honey. Darkest velvet.

  “Gavin, I want you in—” Then all thought fled again as her body came apart, as she flew higher still.

  But for once, she wasn’t alone. Gavin kept her safe as she flew. She rode on thermals like a hawk, an eagle soaring into the crisp blue air, the beautiful and welcoming sky.

  In the piercingly sweet aftermath, she floated back to earth. “Stephanie,” he said, voice strained and taut now. “Look at me. Sugar, look at me.”

  Steph opened heavy eyes to see his blue ones wide open, hot and beautiful and fierce. “I love you, Stephanie Hargrove,” he said, and before she could voice the caution she knew she should—

  With a bold thrust, he joined them.

  Steph’s back bowed. Every cell of her body screamed with a freedom, a bliss she’d never before experienced. She was safe and she was flying and Gavin was with her and he loved her and—

  Gavin found his release as she went sailing. Together they rode the night sky as one. Steph clasped him tightly, pressing every inch of herself against him in fear, in ecstasy, in demand, in longing and yearning.