Winter Heat

Home > Other > Winter Heat > Page 34
Winter Heat Page 34

by Kennedy Fox


  In the distance, a cheery bit of bells and drums had a small crowd singing along. I braced for the brush off as a guy doing a fair impression of Michael Bublé sang “Please Come Home For Christmas”.

  Ellie had been looking for reasons to kill our date since we’d been interrupted by Dare. Hell, she’d been looking for a way out before then too, but at least then I’d had a chance. Now she was just searching for a reason to give me the boot.

  Couldn’t she feel what was between us? Was it all on my side? I’d been attracted to plenty of women over the years. Some I acted on, some didn’t live up to the initial spark, and still others were lost opportunities.

  I really didn’t want this to be the latter.

  I curled my larger fingers around hers, but I didn’t grip tight. If she wanted to slip away, I’d deal with it. Probably with some pretty strong whisky—the Scottish kind. I was like my father in that regard. Sometimes all you could do was let a smooth Doublewood take care of your problems. As long as it only lasted a day or so.

  Maybe a week for this woman.

  Even after just a day with her in my bloodstream, it seemed like she would take a fair bit of time to forget—if ever.

  She lifted her chin. “Dance with me?”

  I hadn’t been prepared for that one.

  “Or don’t you do that sort of thing?” she asked when I didn’t reply.

  “My mother made sure I could hold my own.”

  Her eyebrow quirked. “Is that right?”

  “Don’t get weird. I’m not that much of a mama’s boy. But we are a well-rounded bunch.”

  “Then I guess you need to put your dancing shoes where your mouth is.”

  “I thought I’d put my foot in my mouth enough since I met you.”

  Her eyes sparkled in the twinkle lights glowing off the tree above us.

  “You didn’t even try to let me off the hook there.”

  Her secret little smile was the only answer she gave me.

  I drew her through the crowd to the small dance floor to the side of the stage. A jazzy version of Elvis’s “Blue Christmas” allowed me to draw her close and slowly sway with her. The music was too loud to talk, but I was happy enough to just enjoy her honey and vanilla scent. I pressed my cheek along her hair as we slowly circled in and around the other couples.

  The guy on the stage lengthened the short classic tune with a few bits of flair. And he had a dramatic enough end to the song to let me dip her.

  She gave a startled laugh and gripped my arms. I grinned down at her and slowly drew her back up. The song slid into a more upbeat song. Enough that I could do the two-step with her and twirl her between a few different couples.

  I had the five pairs surrounding us laughing as we passed around one another. I even ended up dancing with a strapping man who reminded me of Santa for the last quarter of the song before finally ending up with Ellie back in my arms.

  Her cheeks were flushed, and she was smiling so wide her cheeks must hurt. And God, she was fucking gorgeous.

  The band started another jazzy version of a Christmas standard. She nodded to the edge of the dance floor and made a gesture for a drink.

  “I didn’t think I could keep up with you. When you said you knew how to dance, you weren’t kidding.”

  I maneuvered her through the small crush of people watching the dancers and we headed for the cider stand. The rockstar had made himself scarce so the line was much shorter now.

  “Mom used to love to do the big Christmas shindig,” I said as we took our spots at the end of the line. “We’ve slowed things down over the years, but when my dad was still working at the college, she’d have all the teachers out to the farm. Did it up like it was a prom crossed with a winter dance from the sixties. Now she puts up all the decorations without the crowds.”

  “That sounds…wow.”

  “Yeah, my mom doesn’t do anything small.”

  “And your dad is a teacher?”

  “Was. He’s retired. Writing a book, I think. He’s been working on it for a while.” I laughed. “Mom keeps him busy.”

  “Sounds like she’s a force.”

  “Accurate.”

  We finally got to the front of the line. A stunning woman with darkly-lashed gold eyes smiled at us, but her expression warmed considerably when she recognized my date. “Hey, Ellie.”

  She waved. “It’s been a long time, Zoe. And you’re definitely way smaller than the last time I saw you.”

  “Elvis and my idiot keep me running.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Elvis?”

  She flipped a massive braid over her shoulder, the color almost as pure as the snow lining the streets. “Don’t go there. I blame my fiancé for the name. I was delirious from giving birth, and he took advantage of me.”

  Ellie absently stepped closer to me as people flowed around us. The band was taking a break, and everyone was looking for refreshments. I curled my arm around her back. She didn’t shy away, so I counted that as a win.

  Ellie’s hand brushed my belt. “I caught Ian holding court.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “I tried to convince him to stay home, but I think he likes seeing people act stupid over him. He’s walking the baby around now. Motion usually knocks him out.”

  “Stick me in the car when I’m not driving, and I’m out like a light.” Ellie glanced up at me. “Leaded or unleaded?”

  I turned to Zoe. “There’s an option?”

  She waggled her eyebrows. “My brothers are into the cider and beer deal now too. We have some of those on tap as well.”

  “Think I’m frozen enough to go for some warm unleaded.”

  That was evidently the right answer. Ellie nodded. “Same.”

  “Coming up.”

  The line prevented more chitchat, and the two women waved goodbye. I glanced around for somewhere to sit. “Why don’t we go by the water? I haven’t been able to get down to see the big Christmas tree at the end of the pier. I started that way earlier, but the crowds were too thick.”

  “It’s chilly out there.”

  “Now we’ve got warm cider, right?”

  “Anything you want.”

  She scraped her teeth over her lower lip before we crossed the lawn to head toward the pier. We were quiet as we sipped from our drinks. The sharp apple with a cinnamon finish was probably the best cider I’d had in a damn long time. I’d finished more than half of mine by the time we stepped onto the pier.

  The breeze off the water was brisk, but not nearly as icy as I’d been expecting.

  She drew in a lungful of air. “Snow soon.”

  I grinned down at her. “You can smell snow?”

  “Not hard in a lake town. It’s nearly every day. But a bit of warmth is always followed by snowflakes.”

  Cool LED white lights lined the railings of the long pier to the spectacular tree at the end. It was decked out in the fat, vintage Christmas lights like the gazebo. Huge gold and silver stars were tucked in the branches and were probably wired in there to combat the pull of the wind off the water.

  But from here, it was like walking into an old postcard, and I appreciated the nostalgia and tradition. So many trees were glammed up and pink these days that it was nice to see something reminiscent of a classic Christmas.

  The closer we got to the tree, the softer her face became. “I didn’t get to do the tree thing very often as a kid.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should ask for details, but the fact that she’d volunteered something about herself made me wary about screwing up. “Not into holidays?” Though that didn’t seem right based on her pure happiness over the decorations and festivities.

  “I learned not to be.” She leaned on the railing next to the tree and stared across the water. “When I was a teenager, I used to look across the lake and wonder what it was like to be in one of those houses.” She pointed to a large home lit up as if it embodied Christmas. “Like the Hamilton house out there. Every holiday, it looked like a postcard. And the
n in the summer, it was always bustling with posh parties.”

  “Do you want posh parties?”

  She glanced up at me. “Not really my thing. But that house over there…” She pointed to the other side of the lake then braced her arm on the railing and propped her chin on her hand. “That house is more me. Those turrets and skinny windows mixed with grand ones. It’s got those gingerbread details and a wraparound porch.”

  I followed where she pointed. It was decked out for Christmas, but instead of the pristine white lights like the Hamilton house she’d pointed out first, it had huge bulbs I could see from where we were. They lined the roofline, accentuating the sharp angles of the Victorian-style home. “Not usually the kind of house you see on a lake.”

  “No. It’s such an odd little place in the middle of all the traditional Cape Cod styles and super ultra rich people with their modern mansions. And of course the condos that have infiltrated the Cove lately.”

  “I have a condo.”

  She wrinkled her nose at me. “Anyway, that’s the house I always look at when I let myself dream.”

  Let herself? I had a feeling that didn’t happen all too often. I slid my hand down her back. “Pretty good dream, if you ask me.”

  She straightened up. “Dreams are just that.” She moved toward me fully for the first time since I’d met her. Well, beyond our first kiss. She’d melted into me under the mistletoe like taffy on a ninety-degree day, but I’d been chasing her ever since.

  While I appreciated the chase, I wondered how it would end.

  “How are you with fantasies?”

  I swallowed. “Not that I’m complaining—because believe me, I’m not—but this is a bit of a change in mood.”

  The glow from the tree lit half her face. Her smile was slow and a little dangerous. “I’ve been convincing myself all night not to let myself enjoy you. I’m sure you’ll be taking that hot little car out of town by morning.”

  “How do you know it’s a hot little car?”

  “Dare’s eyes lit up like it was a dream. Pretty sure it’s either a muscle car or one with an engine that men lust after.”

  I shrugged and dragged in a quick breath when her fingers slid under my coat then along my sweater. I cleared my throat. “Engine.”

  Her touch wandered lower. Her head was still tipped enough that she looked at me through her lashes. “Are you compensating?”

  “Would I own up to it if I was?”

  “Hmm. That’s true. Most men can’t gauge size.”

  Not one to be outmaneuvered, I inched my hand into her coat and coasted over her hip to her spectacular ass.

  Her breath hitched this time. The sound turned into a long exhale as I pulled her tight against me to show her just how adequate I was. Her nails dug into my plaid shirt, and I took a damn chance.

  I’d been gambling on her all day. I wasn’t going to stop now.

  She was right—we didn’t have a lot of time. Christmas was almost here, and I was tempted to invite her back to my folks’ house. But I had a feeling that would make her jackrabbit faster than the White Rabbit. Only her important date didn’t include me.

  And I really wanted to change her mind.

  I lowered my mouth to hers. Instead of pressing in on her with the need so readily flourishing between us, I took it easy. I gentled my explorations with a slow, drugging kiss. Cinnamon and apples mixed with her unique flavor, and I would’ve willingly drowned in her forever.

  Her hands slid up to grip my shoulders. I cupped her face and tilted her head back to deepen the kiss. The crowd had thinned, and we were practically alone out here with only the lapping water and the deep night cloaked around us. We were far enough from the festival that it was only her quickened breath playing as our soundtrack.

  A sound I’d be glad to hear much more of.

  “Come to my room with me,” I said against her mouth. “We both need that fantasy.”

  I’d been so wrapped up in my classes and stressing about a new project for my agent that there’d been little time for me to tend to my own needs.

  Seeing her, tasting her, and wanting her had brought them back into such crisp focus, I literally ached. And maybe after one night, I could convince her for more. I had a feeling that once wouldn’t be nearly enough for either of us.

  “A fantasy,” she said with a nod. “Yes.”

  I brought my other hand up to cup her cool cheek. “I’m at The Hummingbird’s Nest.”

  “Guess we need to go get your car. It’s a bit of walk, and I’m freaking cold.”

  I laughed. “Then let’s get you warmed up.”

  “I’m sure you have a few ideas for that.”

  “You know what they say…”

  “Skin on skin is the quickest way to warm up?”

  “Damn, I like the way you think.”

  Chapter Eight

  ELLIE

  The heater was blasting in Callum’s insanely bright car. Even in the dark of Dare’s parking garage, it was like a neon banana. However, when the engine purred, I couldn’t deny I enjoyed that bit of extra testosterone.

  It was already thick in the air anyway. He’d practically dragged me over to the garage. Not that I could blame him. I’d been wishy washy in the extreme. Talk about hot and cold—even in my own mind.

  Now that I’d given him the green light, he was going to run with it.

  I wasn’t used to being impulsive. That was my mother. And watching her make the same mistakes over and over again with men made me so careful not to do the same.

  I glanced over at him in the shadows of the car. The bright blue lights of the various dials and speedometer tossed his face into stark relief. The hollowed out cheekbones and square jawline gave him that classically handsome look that made women stupid.

  Clearly, I wasn’t immune.

  He curled his fingers around the shifter, and then he paused and directed all that ridiculous beauty my way. “This doesn’t have to go any further than our date night. I can drop you home and pick you up and take you out for a proper dinner tomorrow.”

  I stuffed down the urge to laugh. “A proper dinner on Christmas Eve?”

  He shrugged. “Or I can cook you dinner.”

  “Is that right? At The Hummingbird’s Nest?”

  “No, my place. Well-rounded, remember?”

  I leaned into him, and he met me halfway. “Just take me to your room.” I said it against his mouth, the demand oddly reminiscent of how he’d been trying to convince me to go out with him all day.

  He cupped the back of my head and kissed me hard before sitting straight again and fastening his seatbelt. I did the same and stared out the window at all the lights swaying in the increasing wind off the water.

  There was a lot of pedestrian traffic, so our trip was slow going. We were a hearty bunch in the Cove, but most of the vendors were starting to pack it in. People had families to get to and holiday plans to finalize. And here I was with a stranger, feeling more at home with him than I did with most of my friends.

  Not sure what that said about me—or maybe him.

  He was so easy with everyone he met. I was polite and friendly, but not like him. He just instantly took to people. And to be truthful, they took to him. Dancing in the park like he’d choreographed it himself. Not missing a beat even when Mr. Phillips ended up in his arms. He was our town Santa and that dance had been the sweetest thing I’d ever seen.

  And the sexiest.

  Callum was so at ease within his own skin that he was able to be sweet, sexy, or funny in an instant.

  I wanted to see all the other sides of him.

  He gave me an absent smile as he turned up the radio. An old Creed song was on, and he exaggeratedly sang “Arms Wide Open” until I was laughing with him instead of overthinking everything.

  The ride to The Hummingbird’s Nest was over before it started. He pulled into the winding road, and we sang along to the next song as he parked. An old Keith Urban song went through a few stage
s—from messing up lyrics, to laughing, to kissing.

  I couldn’t get enough of his mouth. It was full and warm and oh so talented. He nipped at my lower lip until I practically climbed into his lap to get closer.

  He opened his door, and the slap of cold air broke us apart. He quickly got out and came around to help me out of of the low slung car with more kisses and laughter.

  “You’re so damn beautiful.” He threaded his fingers through my hair. “Unbelievably beautiful.”

  I flushed and looked down. “You’ve got me here. You don’t have to pour it on.” I leaned back into his car to get my bag from the floor.

  “Evidently, I do.” He circled my waist and hauled me against him. “It’s not just physical, Ellie. I keep catching these flashes of something under that serious face. When you let yourself enjoy the moment, you glow.”

  “Stop.”

  “I’m an artist. Do you know how hard I look for that glow? And it’s in the most random of people. A woman in her nineties I found at a park. She was feeding pigeons of all things. Greta Bloom. I’ll never forget her. She had that light. And here you are with the same one, but you also have so much more.”

  He lowered his mouth to mine and I gave in. I didn’t even care if it was a line at this point. He made me feel like there was something warm and bright inside of me, and I was willing to believe to keep this feeling.

  We stumbled our way up to the entrance, barely able to keep our hands off one another. There was a crush of people at the main desk, probably overflow from the festival. Because he was already settled in a room, we were able to sneak around and head for the stairs.

  I wasn’t paying attention and nearly wiped out on the small caution sign.

  “Shit.” He lifted me and hauled me over one of the signs that explained they were renovating.

  The stairs were an old spiral style, and we kept bouncing off the railing and one another as we tripped our way upstairs and down the hallway to his room. He fumbled with his key and backed into the room, dragging me in with him. Coats hit the floor, and his sweater followed them before he went to work on his shirt buttons.

 

‹ Prev