Christmas Treats

Celia Aaron

Christmas Treats

Celia Aaron

Copyright © 2019 Celia Aaron

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Celia Aaron. This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

WARNING: This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language.

DIRE WARNING: If you pirate this book, Santa will put coal in your stocking (which I will then light on fire).

Contents

Christmas Candy

1. Olive

2. Hank

3. Olive

4. Hank

5. Olive

6. Olive

7. Hank

8. Olive

9. Hank

10. Olive

11. Hank

12. Olive

13. Hank

14. Olive

Epilogue

A Cowboy for Christmas

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

A Stepbrother for Christmas

1. Annalise

2. Niles

3. Annalise

4. Niles

5. Annalise

6. Niles

7. Annalise

Epilogue

Christmas Cake

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

24. Christmas Day

25. Christmas Cake Bonus Scene

Also by Celia Aaron

About the Author

Christmas Candy

Olive

Can you smell it? I can. Sugar in the air, on my tongue, swirling through the cracks in the door and polluting everything inside my studio.

I frown and lean forward on my mat. “Transition into the child’s pose.”

My class follows my lead, stretching their arms out in front of them. Instead of pressing my forehead to the mat and breathing deeply, I stare at the shop across the street, at my enemy.

“Candy” the sign says in big red letters. He’s in there. Hank. I can see straight through my wide glass windows, across the dark, snowy street, and into his sparkling shop. He has a wide ribbon of taffy looped around a hook. With steady movements, he pulls it, loops it, pulls it, loops it.

I can’t quite make out the tone of his muscles, but I know it’s there. Irritation wells in me for the millionth time. Of all the places for him to set up a candy shop, it just had to be across from my studio? What sort of prick sells sweets to people who are trying to get in shape?

“Olive?” Candace, my friend and student, glances up at me from her mat.

I’d forgotten to flow to the next pose. Hank had a way of doing that to me—making me lose my place. He’d done it ever since high school. But no more. I was in control here.

I give Candace a nod. “Planks, everyone. I want to see straight backs.” Stretching my legs out, I push up and hold my pose. “If you can’t quite get to the plank—either on your toes or on your knees—a cobra pose will give you a stretch until you can work up to it.”

My students, fifteen women and two men in various stages of fitness, follow my lead and take their positions. I force myself to keep my eyes focused on them instead of the man across the street.

I can sense him, though, pulling taffy in the window. Sugar tickles the tip of my tongue, and I curse the day he bought the old Sullivan Shoes building and began renovations. I’d told the town council that we didn’t need a sweet shop in town, even provided information from the surgeon general about the dangers of sugar. (Maybe I’d gone overboard … just a little).

Then Hank had stood, looking just as devil-may-care as he had in high school, and talked about tax revenues and brightening up downtown just in time for the holidays. When he’d shot me a confident smirk, I’d scowled right back at him.

I try to push away the memories of him in high school, the way I’d followed him around and stared as he ran track. The dreams I’d had of him giving me my first kiss or taking me on a date. Me, chubby, brace-faced Olive Granderson, on a date with Hank Winters, track star—the high school dream is laughable as I look back on it.

Now, I watch my figure, assiduously avoiding sweets and maintaining a positive—if rigid—body image. Hank still has the same svelte body, the bright green eyes and almost black hair, but I won’t fall for his charm. I am a business woman, self-made pillar of Hollyton.

Despite my standing in the community, the council dismissed my objections and called Hank’s shop “progress” for the town’s re-emerging Main Street. And now here we are. Adversaries right across the way from each other.

When he’d opened the shop, I’d caught more than a few of my students across the street, furtively eyeing the goodies in the window. The desire to call them out as traitors in the next class almost overwhelmed me. But I didn’t, though I may have made them plank for a little longer than necessary.

The muscles in my thighs and arms begin to burn the slightest bit, and a couple students drop their knees to the mat.

“Count it down with me. Five, four, three, two, one. Relax into child’s pose and breathe deeply.”

My class sighs with relief as they let themselves sink to their mats. A few more stretches and calming breaths later, and I end the class with “Namaste.”

I hit the remote to turn off the soothing water sounds, then drop down to the floor from my platform to visit with students.

“Went kind of hard on the planking again today,” Candace grumbles as she rolls her mat.

I shrug. “Just trying to burn a few more calories so everyone can eat more at Christmas next week.”

She glances at the shop across the street and wipes the sweat from her forehead. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s the reason.”

“Thanks, Olive.” Mrs. Reed hurries past. She’s sixty years old, but more spritely than most of my students in their twenties.

“Happy to have you this morning. See you for my Saturday class?”

“I’ll try and make it, dear. Family coming to town.” She fluffs her short white curls in the plate glass window, then slings her yoga mat across her slim back.

“All right, then. If you can’t, have a lovely Christmas, tell Mayor Reed hello for me, and I’ll see you in the new year.” I reach up and tighten my ponytail. Habit.

“See you then.” She smiles and hotfoots it across the street. Right to Hank’s shop. I watch as she arranges her breasts in her sports bra. Then she pulls the door open and sashays into Hank’s den of iniquity. Damn it!

My other students filter out the door. I give them half-hearted “Merry Christmases” as I glare at Mrs. Reed. Hank is smiling as they chat.

“Olive.” Candace pulls her oversized shirt away from her body, trying to increase the ventilation beneath the fabric. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” My voice is strangled, tight. I watch as Mrs. Reed laughs at something Hank said. Something I bet wasn’t even funny. But I’m sure she’s only doing it to be nice. She’s the mayor’s wife, has to keep up appearances and all. Surely that’s the only reason.

“Oh god, does this mean we have to do more planking?” Candace stares at Mrs. Reed and then looks back at me. “Isn’t she a diabetic?”

“Yes!” I hiss and cross my arms over my chest as Hank hands Mrs. Reed a bag of sweets and she pays him. “Backstabbing traitor. Of course she can’t eat any of that. She comes here to get healthy, and then that, that purveyor of death sells her sweets that will kill her!”

Candace squints one eye at me as if what I said is ludicrous. “She’s probably getting some treats for her grandkids. Relax.”

I give Candace what I hope is a searing scowl.

She blinks and slings her workout bag over her shoulder. “I should get home. Ben is awful at getting the kids to bed without me. Hopefully, I can start coming to earlier classes next year.”

I pry my eyes away from Hank and the clearly unstable Mrs. Reed. “Sounds good. I’ll work you into whichever class you want.”

“Thanks.” She walks toward the door. “Are you going to close up? Want to walk together?”

“No.” I shake my head. I live right next door to Candace, but I have other ideas about how to spend my evening. “I need to clean up some and do a little bookkeeping.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow morning, then.” She turns and glances at the candy shop. “Don’t obsess. It’s not a big deal. Not really. It’s just candy.”

“Just candy.” I try to keep my voice steady, especially since Candace is well aware of my weight struggles in high school and college. It wasn’t until I began yoga and Pilates that I finally got a handle on my body. I eat right, avoid sugar, and definitely do not lust after sweets the way I used to. Not at all. I grit my teeth.

“Okay, you’re doing that weird stare thing again, so I’m going to go.” She squeezes my shoulder. “See you for coffee first thing. Oh, and then we have to do that Christmas fundraiser thing over at the senior home at nine. Don’t stay too late obsessing over Hank the hottie and all his treats. You have plenty of other things to worry about, including a handsy Grampa Barnes.”

“I don’t even know whose grampa he is.” I cringe at the memory of wrinkly hands patting my butt. “And don’t worry.” I try to smile. “I’m not obsessing, and yes, I’ll be over for coffee in the morning.”

“Good.” She opens the door, and a burst of chill air cuts through the studio. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” I relent and give her a real smile.

“Better.” She grins and lets the door close before turning left and walking toward home.

I spend another hour in the studio, cleaning the floors and organizing the workout gear. At nine, I hit the lights and stare at the candy shop. Hank is inside wiping the counter. I watch him work for five minutes until he turns off the glowing candy sign and the inside goes dark. Only the case along the front window remains lit.

Waiting five more minutes, I scan the store for any movement. Nothing. He must have gone up to his loft above the shop. I shrug on my navy pea coat and yank my ponytail free. Then I press on a knit cap and toy with the idea of sunglasses. Overkill. I decide that if anyone sees me, I’ll pretend to just be walking on his side of the street—not staring into his shop. Nope.

I step out into the frigid air, my boots crunching on the slushy snow right outside my studio. After clicking the lock, I look up and down the street. No cars at the moment.

The decorative stars along the street lights give an extra glow to the snow piled along the curb. I step over a low, slushy bank and into the road. The town Christmas tree peeks out from behind the gazebo down the street in the square.

I hustle across the pavement and jump the other snow pile as my breath comes out in a puff of white. Once I gain the opposite sidewalk, I press myself against the brick wall next to the sweet shop’s door. A car turns onto Main Street and I inspect my shoes as it passes. No honk, no nothing—I haven’t been recognized.

I get a whiff of something fruity and intoxicatingly sweet as I ease toward the glowing case. I close my eyes and take a breath, sampling the full taste of my enemy as I approach his lair. The glass gleams bright, the treats within luring me closer—bonbons, caramels, hard candies, candy canes, sugared nuts, and a row of chocolate chip cookies that make my mouth water.

“Strong, be strong.” I’ve come here for recon, not to fall prey to Hank’s sweets. I force a frown onto my face and shoot negative thoughts at the sugary confections.

Everything seems to be going well—I’m hating on Hank and the sweets he creates—until the shop’s door opens. I freeze.

Hank smiles and leans his lanky body against the door frame. “It tastes even better than it looks.”

Hank

I watched her scurry across the street, her legs looking killer in a pair of tight yoga pants. She tried to play it cool, hanging around next to the door, but then the light from the case against the window drew her in. I stood in the dark, only a few feet away from her, but she couldn’t see past the glare.

Her eyes—the big blue ones I remembered from high school—widened, and she licked her full lips. Did she have any idea what that simple movement of her tongue could do to a man? But then she’d frowned and I’d made my move.

Now she’s looking at me with a mix of contempt and guilt, as if I’d caught her in the middle of an illicit activity.

“Would you like to come in?” I flick the lights on in the shop.

She steps back, out of the pool of light. “No.”

“You sure?” I don’t want to spook her, but I’ve been watching her across the street for the entire week, ever since I opened my candy shop’s doors. Getting closer to her is something I’ve thought about quite a bit and now I have the perfect opportunity. “I can whip you up a hot cocoa for the road.”

“No, thank you.” She puts a gloved hand to her face as a car passes. “I need to get home.”

“It’s Olive, right?”

She straightens her spine, as if I’d wounded her pride by not knowing. “Olive Granderson.”

I keep playing dumb. “Did we go to high school together or something?”

Her back straightens even more. “Yes.”

I remember her. How could I forget? The braids, light brown hair, braces, and then the curves that hit when we were in eleventh grade. Jesus, she’d fueled plenty of my teenage fantasies during the last two years of school. Now she’s thinner, but still has an hourglass that speaks to some primitive part of my brain. The caveman in me knows she’s a keeper. Even so, I’m losing the battle of trying to get her in my door. She takes another step back as a car rolls by, then stops.

The driver rolls down her window. “Olive, is that you?”

Olive tries to shrink back against the storefront, but it only sheds more light on her heart-shaped face. She mumbles under her breath, then responds, “Yes, Mrs. Black.”

“Thank goodness.” She pulls closer to the curb. “I forgot to mention earlier today that we need you and Candace to bring some snacks to the senior home tomorrow. The usual caterer has the flu, so we’re throwing some things together on the fly.” She glances at me. “Well, hello Henry. Didn’t see you there.”

I give my high school chemistry teacher, Geraldine Black, a small wave. “Hi.”

“Nice to see you made something of yourself instead of trying to be in a rock band.” She doesn’t bother hiding her disapproval.

“I still play a mean electric guitar, Mrs. Black. How’s your son, by the way?” She narrows her eyes. I already know how her son is—fired from his position at the local TV station because he went into a homophobic tirade on the air.

Olive coughs into her palm and gives me a pointed glance.

“He’s just fine, Henry. Thank you for asking.” Mrs. Black turns her laser gaze back to Olive. “So, about those snacks—”

“I’d be happy to pitch in.” I grin at Olive. “Come on in and I’ll load you up with some treats to take to the senior center.”

“Perfect!” Mrs. Black squawks and starts rolling up her window.

Olive’s eyes widen, the blue sparkling under the streetlights. “No. I should probably go by the grocery instead and—”

“I can’t wait to get a taste of what you’ve whipped up, Henry.” Mrs. Black pulls away as Olive sputters and eventually goes silent.

I motion inside the shop. “Come on in.”

She gives a pained glance at the sweets in the window before tilting her chin up and striding past me. I follow and let the door close behind me, the bell tinkling against the door frame. Alone at last.

I’m about to offer her one of my signature caramel bonbons when she turns to me and whips her knit cap from her head.

“Let’s get this over with. I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.” With that, she crosses her arms over her chest and stares me down as if she’d just challenged me to a duel.

Such a little tiger. I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face as I step toward her, invading her space and catching the vanilla scent of her lotion. Her breath hitches as I lean toward her, and her gaze darts to my lips.

“So, what would you like to taste first?”

Olive

The nerve. The damn nerve!

Hank backs away and walks around the counter where he begins assembling boxes with his bright pink “Candy” logo across the top. I press my cold gloves to my cheeks to try and push the blush back inside of me. He’d looked like he was about to kiss me! My heart had begun river dancing in my chest, and for a split second, I’d wanted . . . No. I won’t think about it. Hank is the enemy, not someone I want to kiss. Not at all.

“So, what’s your poison?” He turns and places the boxes on the counter between us.

“Just whatever you have is fine.” I try not to look at the swirling lollypops, jars of jellybeans, or rows of frosted cookies. The caramel candy apples with chocolate drizzle almost catch my eye, but I look away before I become ensnared.

He sidesteps to the candy apple display. “Try one.”

“No.” I keep my tone level. “Just pack up whatever you want to donate, and I’ll be on my way.”

He smiles, and butterflies go to war in my stomach. Lightly tanned skin, bright eyes, and dark hair are still my weakness, almost as much as the mouth-watering candy apple he picks up and holds out to me. “Give it a try. I just put these out this afternoon. The apples are tart, and I made the caramel myself.”

I glance at the proffered treat. My sweet tooth demands that I take it, but my will is far stronger. “No, thank you.”

His smile grows, as if he already knew I’d decline. Then he raises the apple to his mouth and takes a bite. The perfectly ripe apple makes a delectably crisp crunch between his teeth. I watch as he licks the stray caramel from his lips, and I wonder just how sweet he’d taste.

“What was that?” He takes another bite.

“Hmm?” Lord help me, but I stare. Watch his Adam’s apple bob and follow the movement down into his flannel shirt right where the tan skin disappears behind the fabric.

He grabs a small plate and sets the rest of the apple down. “You just made a noise is all. Like a high-pitched sigh.”

My face burns bright red. A sigh? I made a noise? “No. I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, you did.” He grins. “Almost as if you’d enjoyed that as much as I did.”

“Can we just get down to business?” I give him my best “serious” tone.

“Sure.” He grabs a pair of tongs and starts arranging cookies in the bottom of the first box. “Can I ask you something?”

I itch to say no, but manners win out. “Yes.”

He stops what he’s doing and pierces me with his green stunners. “Why did you fight my shop so hard?”

Damn. I take a deep breath and pretend to be thinking over his question. Really, I’m just trying to figure out how to evade the question altogether. Nothing comes to mind.

He continues selecting goodies for the boxes. “I mean, surgeon general literature from the eighties and lab rat studies on the effects of sugar?” He laughs, the sound warming me far more than it should. “You really went all out. So, why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I shoot a look across the street at my studio. “I run a health and fitness business. You wanted to open a candy shop—a shop that undermines all the good I’m trying to do—right across the street. Of course I fought it.”

He stands and turns his back to me. His broad shoulders fill out the green and blue flannel shirt, and I wonder if he still runs and works out like he used to. When I let my gaze drift down to his jeans that hug his firm ass, I realize yes, yes he still does. My palms begin to sweat, so I strip my gloves off and tuck them into my coat pockets.

He’s doing something behind the counter. I walk closer to see. A single burner shoots an open flame onto the bottom of a small bowl of chocolate. He stirs and then adds a few marshmallows. I watch his wrist flick with each turn of the spoon, his hands expertly creating something delicious as the smell of warm sugar and chocolate fills the air.

“A little something extra on the hazelnut cookies,” he says over his shoulder and then clicks the burner off. With a little flourish, he drizzles the chocolate—now gooey from the marshmallow addition—over the cookies in the bottom of the second box.

My mouth waters, and the need to taste what he’s made almost overwhelms me. I hate my weakness, and I hate even more the brief mental image of me sucking chocolate from his fingers. I bite the inside of my cheek and wonder how in the hell I’m going to escape him and the candy shop without making a mistake.

Then my eyes flicker back to the small burner. An open flame in an area of the shop where customers congregate. Not exactly safe. Not within code. A smile creeps across my face. I’ve pulled myself back from the Hank/chocolate abyss. I’ve got this.

“Wow.” He packs up the rest of the treats. “That’s the first time you’ve smiled since you’ve been in here.”

“Are you finished?” I wrap my arms around myself even tighter. “I’d like to get what I need and go home. It’s long past closing time. I shouldn’t be out this late in the dark.”

He glances at the clock on the back wall that hangs above a huge glass container of brightly-colored gumballs. “Yeah, it’s pretty late. I’ll have to walk you home.”

“What?” I swallow hard.

He packs a few more sweets into the boxes and closes them up. “Like you said, you shouldn’t be out in the dark this late.”

“I-I didn’t mean that you need to walk me home. I’m perfectly capable of—”

“It’s okay if you didn’t want to come right out and ask me.” His smirk reappears. “I understand.”

“No. I can walk myself home, thank you very much.” I reach for the boxes.

He scoops them into his arms and jerks his chin at the front door, a mischievous sparkle dancing in his eyes. “Wait there. I’ll just get my coat.”

Hank

“Do you keep up with anyone from school?” I walk along beside her, the boxes of sweets in my arms.

“You really don’t have to walk me. I’ve been walking myself home every night for years.” She sticks close to the row of shops and turns her head toward the darkened windows of Burt’s Hardware as a car passes, the tires hissing on the slick street.

I plow ahead. “I still talk to Greg Freemont sometimes. Brandon Yearling, too. He has a farm about twenty miles from town. We get together and shoot pool out at Cooter’s at least once a month.”

“What about Linda?” She asks the question in a rapid huff, then bites her lip as if she wishes she could take it back.

I haven’t thought about Linda in years. We dated in high school. The typical cliché—she was a cheerleader and I was an athlete. But it ended right after senior year. Now she’s married to the police chief’s son and has three cute kids. What interests me is Olive’s jealous tone. Jealousy means she’s got feelings. Feelings mean I’ve got a chance.

I keep my voice even. “I’ve seen her around town with her kids sometimes since I’ve gotten back, but other than that, no.”

She nods quickly. “Right, her kids. She’s married and all.”

“Yeah.” We turn right at the end of the block and head toward the oak-lined street marking the start of the more residential part of town. “So, what about you? Anyone you still talk to?”

“Candace Turley, though she’s Candace Lincoln now, and a few others.”

Now it’s my turn. “What about Pace?”

She glances at me, her eyes bright in the moonlight. “What about him?”

“Didn’t you two date senior year?” I distinctly remember wanting to beat the ever-living shit out of him when he’d bragged in gym about going all the way with Olive.

“Pace?” She stops and shakes her head at me. “Pace Beverly and me?” She laughs, but no amusement colors her tone. “You think the quarterback dated me?”

I realize I look like a fool with my nose wrinkled up and confusion stretching across my face, but I can’t help it. “You didn’t date him?”

“No.” She takes a few more steps before stopping again and facing me. “Pace never said two words to me in school. None of you did.” Her eyes narrow. “In fact, this is the most you’ve ever said to me.”

Mayday, mayday. “I was just trying to—”

“If this is some dumb game for you, it’s not funny. Maybe I was your joke in high school, but now I’m an adult. I live my life, I have great friends, and I run a business I’m proud of.” She holds her arms out. “Give me the boxes. We’re done here.”

“Wait. Look, I’m sorry.” When her expression softens the slightest bit, I barrel onward, “I know we didn’t talk in high school, and we didn’t exactly hit it off well when I opened my sweets shop across from your studio, but I …” I swallow hard and my palms begin to sweat and stick to the boxes.

“You what?” She arches a dark eyebrow.

“I want to start over, if that’s possible.” I hold out the figurative olive branch, pun intended. “I don’t want you to hate me or my shop.”

“Why?” Her incredulous breath plumes in front of her face. “Why do you care about whether or not I like you? What does it even matter?”

I have an embarrassingly huge crush on you, probably won’t go over well. Instead, I say, “Because I want us to be good neighbors. We both have businesses to run. There’s no need for acrimony between us. Okay?”

She chews on her bottom lip as she considers me. After another beat of silence, she shrugs. “Fine. I can be civil, but don’t expect me to be popping into your shop or doing you any favors.”

“Of course not.” I begin walking again, and she joins me at my elbow. “Though if you want a favor from me, all you have to do is ask.”

She frowns.

Shit. “What?”

“Every time you’re nice to me, I feel like you’re trying to trick me.” She shoots me a glance from the corner of her eye.

I know she doesn’t like me, but this is a whole other level. “What makes you think I’m out to get you?”

“I don’t know.” She clasps her hands in front of her, her fingers trying to strangle each other. “Just, in school, you never looked twice at me. And now …”

“I looked at you plenty.” I meet her startled gaze. “Trust me.”

Olive

There is simply no way in the world to hide the surprise that waltzes across my face at his words.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Maybe I misheard him?

“I mean that every time I was running track and you were sitting in the stands, I’d check you out.”

“Not possible.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “I would have seen it.”

“I’m a lot smoother than you give me credit for.” He smiles, and heat rises inside me, warming my heart.

“What makes you think you would have seen me looking?” He elbows me lightly. “Were you watching me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Sure.” He grins.

“What did you do after high school?” I know the answer, but I need to get him off the subject of me stalking him every day of our senior year.

“College, got a business degree. Then I traveled and worked my way through Europe doing odd jobs or working on farms. My parents thought I was insane and demanded I come home and work on their farm.” He glanced at me. “But I couldn’t see myself there. They built a great life, and I love them more than anything, but farming for a lifetime isn’t for me.”

“And candy is?”

His lips quirk up. “Candy is the ultimate freedom. Just total enjoyment—even if it’s only for a moment—of something delicious.”

I let myself go, let my guard down for a second, and return his smile. “So you’re the Willy Wonka of Hollyton?”

“Depends on whether you mean the Gene Wilder one or the creepy Johnny Depp one.”

I give him the side eye. “What sort of gal do you think I am? Gene Wilder, all the way, obviously.”

He laughs, and the sound puts me more at ease than I’ve been all day. Somehow, he is more calming for me than hours of Bikram Yoga.

We turn right, and I can see my front porch light burning through the dark as snow begins to swirl around us.

“You should get back.” I say the words, but I don’t offer to take the boxes from him. “We’re supposed to get a heavier band of snow before it clears up.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t melt.”

We walk the rest of the way in silence, our shoes crunching along the slushy sidewalk until we reach the path to my front door.

“This is me.” I turn to him and stare up into his eyes before glancing away. Something about the way he looks at me warms areas of my body that are best left cold. At least I think they’re best left cold. Every sniff I get of his clean scent mixed with the sweetness from his shop only intensifies the heat inside, and I fear I’m beginning to fall under the same spell he worked on me in high school. I can’t let it happen.

“I’ll take those now.” I hold my hands out.

“At least unlock your door first. You can’t very well get your key out with your hands full.”

He has a point. I scan the neighborhood and see Candace’s front window curtain twitch. Great.

“Fine.” I hold a finger up. “But you can’t come in.”

“Understood.” He follows me up the walk.

As I slide the key into the lock and turn the deadbolt he says, “This is a nice house.”

“Thanks.”

I open my door and relish the warmth as I step across the threshold. Turning back to him, I take the boxes and place them on the small side table in the foyer.

He stands in the cold and gives me a rueful look as the snow falls behind him. “Thanks for letting me walk you.”

The urge to invite him in shoots through me, but I refuse to give in to it. Just because I’m in a years-long dry spell doesn’t mean I need to make a fool of myself with Hank. Besides, our little chat may have changed the way I think about him, but it doesn’t change the fact that his business doesn’t belong across the street from mine, right?

From the safety of my house, I stare into his eyes, looking for some sign of duplicity, but all I see there is interest and the flicker of something else, something hot. Jesus. The way he’s looking at me—as if he’s hungry—makes me press my thighs together.

I have to stop this train before it goes off the rails. “Thanks again for the food. The senior center will be grateful.” I grab the door, signaling that it’s time for him to go.

“No need to thank me.” He gives me the smile that always electrified me in high school. “I’d do anything for you.” He turns on his heel and heads back down the front walk.

My jaw goes slack, and I can’t think of a reply. I’d do anything for you. His words echo in my mind as I close the door and stare out the side window until he disappears down the street.

Olive

Grampa Barnes pats my ass as I try to hurry past him and set up the rest of the food on the banquet table. A smattering of elderly senior center residents mill around and drink eggnog or juice while reminiscing about Christmases past.

“Looking good, young lady.” Grampa Barnes grins at me and rolls his wheelchair toward the bingo area.

“He already got you, huh?” Candace arranges a tray of cheese straws as Mrs. Black futzes with a green and red ribbon at the end of the table.

“Twice.” I roll my eyes and take out the last of Hank’s shortbread cookies from the box.

“Missed you this morning.” Candace pops a candied pecan into her mouth.

“Sorry.” I’d avoided our morning coffee date, claiming I needed more time to get ready for the senior center event. Really, I had to make a few phone calls about a certain unsafe condition at the candy shop. A twinge of guilt shoots through me, but I push it away. Hank had been nice—and if I’m being honest with myself, I’d enjoyed our talk—but business is business.

“I wanted to discuss a certain someone with you. A certain fellow with tight buns and killer good looks.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst.” I finish with the table and straighten up before smoothing my holiday green sweater-dress over my hips.

“You are smokin’ today, by the way.” Candace looks down at her flowy white shirt and dark leggings. “I went for more of a frump vibe.”

“Shut up. You look fine. And I can tell you’re losing weight. Planking does a body good.”

She smirks, her bright pink lips twisting up on one side. “Yeah, well I can tell you my ass is sore from all the—”

“Ladies, who’s in charge of the bingo?”

“Olive.” Candace spits out the answer before I can peg her with the honor. Shit.

Mrs. Black bustles past, the smell of baby powder and some sort of cloying perfume warring with the senior center’s lingering disinfectant scent. “Let’s get to it. Mrs. Hawthorne is already snoring on her playing card.”

I scan the four rows of tables full of silver-haired people talking, sleeping, or staring into space. Christmas bingo, fun times.

“Get to it.” Candace grins and motions toward the table at the front of the room.

“Jerk.”

“Oh, you love it.” She leans into me and grabs a cookie.

“Sorry I’m late.” A man’s voice.

I turn to find Hank strolling toward me. He’s dressed in a blue and green plaid shirt and a pair of worn, nicely fitting, blue jeans. His smile makes something pop inside me, like a dam breaking.

“Hank.” It sounds dumb, but I’ve got nothing else. I can’t look away from him. It certainly doesn’t help that I had trouble sleeping last night, mainly because I spent at least an hour fantasizing about what would have happened if I’d invited him in.

I want to treat Hank like a piece of black licorice, but instead, he appeals to me the same as one of those candy apples on his counter.

“Hank!” Candace opens her arms and gives him a hug that lasts for far too long.

He pats her on the back and gives me a quizzical look until she pulls away.

He clears his throat. “Candace, right?”

“Right.” She winks at me over her shoulder. “Nice to finally meet you again. I saw you walking Olive home last night. Is there something going o—”

Oh, shit. “Welp, gotta go do the bingo.” I hurry past the two of them and down the middle row. Despite my quick steps, the embarrassment stays with me. I decide that murdering Candace will be next on my itinerary right after Christmas bingo.

“I’ll help.” Hank catches up.

“No need.” I survey the room of about thirty people. The game won’t take long, and then I can get back to my studio for the late morning session.

“I figure I should get involved, give back, all that. You know?” His tone seems genuine. “And this sounded like as good a time as any.”

“There are plenty of other places where you could volun—” I squeak as Grampa Barnes swats my ass when I pass him.

“Hey.” Hank points at him. “Hands to yourself.”

Grampa Barnes furrows his wrinkly brow. “I’m an octogenarian, sonny, but I’d be happy to take you outside and teach you a lesson about how to speak to your elders.”

“Is there a problem, Olive?” Mrs. Black calls from the back of the room. Her irritated-teacher tone causes my hackles to rise.

“No, we’re fine.” I jerk my chin toward the front bingo table. “Just heading up.”

Hank leans over and puts his face in Grampa Barnes’s. “Hands to yourself, old timer, or I’ll tell them to cut your chocolate pudding supply.”

“Why you little—”

“Thanks for saying that, Mr. Barnes.” Hank raises his voice to cover Grampa Barnes’s angry stammering. “Happy to be here.”

Mrs. Black flicks her wrist, directing me to get on with it. I hurry to the bingo table. Did Hank just defend my “honor” or something? Why does that thought make me feel warm all over?

“Black licorice, black licorice, black licorice,” I mutter under my breath as I turn to face the elderly crowd.

“Licorice?” He stands next to me, his hand on the crank for the ball cage.

“Nothing. Just grab a ball.”

“Excuse me?” He smirks and spins the crank and the balls click, click, click against the silver cage.

“You know what I mean.” I do my best to smile at the rows of seniors and ignore a grinning Candace at the back of the room.

“Here.” Hank hands me a ball.

“O-45,” I call out, and the game begins.

A low hum of chatter erupts and Mrs. Black begins playing the upright piano near the sunny front doors. The jaunty Deck the Halls tune sets the holiday mood as Hank and I work together calling out numbers.

“How often do you volunteer here?” he asks.

“Once a week.” I call out the next number.

“That’s nice of you.”

“It’s part of the gig. Being a business owner means giving back where you can.”

“In that case, I want to take a page out of your book.”

“Like I said before, there are lots of other places you can spend your time.” I didn’t need him in my life any more than he already was.

He hands me another ball, this time his fingers brush against mine for a little longer than before. It sends a thrill through me, even though I try to ignore it. Why does he have to smell so good? Like clean and masculine with a hint of something sweet from his shop? It’s wrong for a man to smell delicious.

Black licorice, black licorice.

“Can you call that number again, dear?” Mrs. Carmichael adjusts her enormous bifocals. “I couldn’t hear it over my cats. They meow something terrible when they’re hungry.”

I glance around at the cat-free common room. “Sure. I-14.”

“Thank you.” She stares at her upside down bingo card.

“I wanted to ask you something last night, but I couldn’t quite work up the nerve.” His fingers linger against mine again as he hands me the next ball.

“What?” My voice comes out breathy as I call out the number. We should have had a bingo by now, but I’ve learned everything takes a little longer at the senior center.

He leans over, his warm breath tickling my ear. “I was wondering what your favorite candy is.”

Goosebumps break out along my neck and arms as I snatch the ball from his hands and announce the next number.

“I don’t like candy.” I glance at him. He’s watching me, eating me up with his eyes. Problem is, I can’t say the sensation is unpleasant. Quite the opposite.

“Come on. Everyone likes candy.”

“I don’t.” His nearness is throwing me off, and I stutter out the next number.

“You sure? I saw the way you looked at my candy apple.”

I huff out a breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He moves closer, our arms touching. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” His conciliatory whisper has my heart stutter-stepping. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

I can’t focus on the numbers, not when he’s winding me up like a clock. It doesn’t help that this is the most distracted I’ve been over a man since … Since senior year when I stared at him running track instead of doing my homework. I’ve fallen into the same hole with the same guy, and I can’t seem to get myself free.

“Candy apples.” I keep my voice low.

“What?” God, his voice in my ear sends shivers shooting down my spine.

“I like candy apples the best.”

“I’d like to see you eat one of my candy apples. Extra caramel for you.” He hands me the next ball, his index finger skating along mine. “Something sweet on your tongue.”

My body goes up in flames as our eyes meet, and I call out, “O-69.”

Hank

I position myself on the mat and stare toward the platform at the back of the room. The front door opens and Candace walks in. Her face lights up when she sees me, and she unrolls her mat next to mine on the shiny wood floor.

“Fancy seeing you here.” She settles next to me. “You think this might be the way to her heart, eh?”

My eyebrows rise at her words, mainly because she seems to have seen right through me. “I figured it was worth a try.”

She lowers her voice as other students settle in around us, unfurling their mats and sitting cross-legged. “I remember you from school. She sort of had a thing for you.”

“It was mutual. Trust me.”

She nods. “I don’t think it violates friend code to tell you these things, mainly because I think it’s long past time for her to move outside her comfort zone.” She whips her hair up into a ponytail. “And it helps that I think you’re just the guy for her.”

“You do?” I respect her frank tone. She certainly doesn’t mince words.

“Yes. I saw it yesterday morning at the senior center. You two had more chemistry than one of Mrs. Black’s classes.” She winks at me. “And I wouldn’t mind having you around, either. Easy on the eyes and all that.”

I laugh, the sound gaining stares from a couple of the other students. “Got any tips for me?”

“Perseverance. She’s a tough nut to crack but worth it.”

I’d flirted with Olive during bingo, but I wanted to get closer, to bring down her walls so I could see the real her. She’d practically run from me after the event. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, to the point I was desperate enough to come over for a class.

“I’m going to hit her with everything I’ve got.”

“Let’s hope it’s enough. Also—” She gives my brand new mat a critical look “—how flexible would you say you are?”

“Huh?”

Her mouth pulls down into a frown. “And I didn’t even think about the planking she’ll enforce because of this.”

“What makes you think—”

The studio’s rear door opens, and Olive strolls in. She pauses when her eyes seize on me. A mix of emotions run across her face. Surprise, a hint of excitement, and a dash of irritation.

“Shit,” Candace whispers. “That’s a planking face.”

Olive recovers and springs up onto the platform in front of the mirrored wall at the back of the room. Her yoga pants hug the delicious curve of her ass, and her tank top highlights her round breasts. I wonder what they’d look like bare and bouncing as she straddles me. My cock tries to harden in my shorts. Not cool. I look away and find the white-haired Mrs. Reed staring at me from two rows up. Boner killer. Thank god.

The calming music rises—the sound of running water and a harp playing—as everyone climbs to their feet.

“Arms out to the side, breathe in, then bring them together overhead and pull them down to your heart with a steady breath out.” Olive looks at every student but me as we follow her instructions. “Cleanse yourself of whatever you came here with today. Release your burdens and just be.”

I can do this. Moving my arms up and down and breathing? Easy. We do the stretch a few more times.

“Half moon pose to the left.” Olive stretches her arms above her head, and I notice her nipples have tightened beneath her tank top. She leans from the waist over to her side.

The class follows. I can’t take my eyes off her body, the smooth curves, and the fair skin. We lean to the other side, and I haven’t even come close to breaking a sweat, though I have come far too close to getting hard in my gym shorts.

“Flow into eagle pose.”

“Shit,” Candace mutters.

I stare as Olive twists her arms in front of her and tucks one leg around the other until she resembles an upright pretzel.

“Follow along.” She gives me a cutting look. “If you can.”

Shiiiiittt. I’ve never backed down from a challenge. I cross my arms, stand on one leg, then wrap one foot around the rear of my calf. Should be simple. It’s not. I lose my balance. Olive stands completely still, her body twisted yet somehow comfortable.

I try the pose again and hold it for about five seconds before losing my balance yet again. A small smile plays across Olive’s lips. And this is just the beginning. Over the next hour, we move from standing poses that I find nearly impossible to hold, to work on our knees, to finally getting down on our stomachs. I’m sweating, Candace is breathing hard, and someone along the front row has let out a squeaky fart, so now I can’t breathe.

“Let’s push ourselves for the final pose, especially since most of us are taking Christmas week off.” Olive gets to her knees, lifts, and holds a planking position.

“Goddamn bullshit.” Candace assumes the position, though her back is nowhere near the straight line of Olive’s.

I can do a plank. Pushups are a gym mainstay for me. I’ve got this. But first, I get to my knees and strip my shirt off. Olive’s eyes rove my torso and lower. She swallows hard, and I get onto my hands and knees before my cock starts planking ahead of me.

Straightening my legs, I hold myself up and stare at Olive. Her eyes don’t leave mine, the challenge rippling across the air between us. She may be a yoga instructor with killer curves, bright eyes, and flexibility that will occupy my mind for days, months, probably years, but I can hold this pose for just as long as she can.

“If you need to modify the plank to a cobra, feel free.” The corner of her lips quirk up, and I know she’s speaking directly to me.

I remain still, my back straight, as the students around me sink to the mat one-by-one, giving up and resting their hips on the floor. The music fades out, the track over, and the room fills with the sounds of struggling breaths of people trying to maintain the plank and failing. Another minute passes and only Olive and I are left. The muscles in my ass and shoulders begin to burn, but I don’t drop. I won’t. Not until she does.

After another few minutes, she says, “If you’ve completed your plank or cobra, rest peacefully in child’s pose.”

I don’t miss the shake in her voice or the tremble in her arms. She’s going to break soon. I grin up at her, and she responds by pressing her lips into a thin line. All day, baby. All day.

Time ticks by, and some of the students begin rolling their mats and getting to their feet.

“This is hot. Like watching a game of sexy chicken.” Candace takes a loud swig from her water bottle.

Olive’s eyes narrow as the shake in her arms intensifies. I have her. With a hard exhale, she drops her knees to the mat. Yes! I relax downward and stifle a groan as my knees hit the mat.

Olive rises onto her knees, folds her hands together and says “Namaste,” although half the class has already left. She wipes her face with a hand towel and gives me a glare that could melt a glacier.

Anger is better than nothing, I figure. I scoot off my mat and roll it up as Mrs. Reed walks over.

“First yoga class?” She eyes me as I stand and mop the sheen of sweat off my chest.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Does a body good.” She gawks at my bare torso, and it leaves me feeling a bit more naked than I’d intended.

“Thanks.”

“Will I see you at the shop in a few minutes?”

“No, my nephew Trey is minding the store for me at the moment. I need to finish up my class payment information with Olive.”

She pouts, the wrinkles around her lips deepening. “Too bad. Maybe next time. The grands are going to love all your sweets.”

I look over her head at Olive, who stands with her hands on her hips as she angrily whispers to Candace. “I hope so, and thanks for shopping with me.”

“Very welcome. See you around.”

“Have a great Christmas.” I sidestep her and walk up to the platform where Olive falls silent, her heart-shaped face drawn down in disapproval.

Candace smiles brightly. “How’d you like your first class?”

“It was … more intense than I thought it would be.”

“You can say that again.” Candace scans the empty room. “Well, I better be going. Still have to do the shopping for next week.”

“You don’t do the shopping until Saturday.” Olive crosses her arms over her chest, pushing up her breasts even further. Sports bras usually do nothing for a nice pair of tits, but Olive’s defy even the laws of spandex.

“Well, I um, I’m changing up the routine.” Candace hops down and grabs her bag. “See you in the morning.”

Candace is growing on me by the second. I appreciate any woman who avoids cockblockery.

“Fine.” Olive huffs and turns her back to start fiddling with the music deck.

“Good luck,” Candace whispers and leaves the two of us alone in the studio.

Olive

He took his shirt off. Off. All the way off. Broad chest, a dark trail of hair down the center, smooth stomach except for the hint of abs, and the V. I thought I was going to collapse onto the mat when he gave me a cocky grin and went down to plank.

And now he’s standing right behind me, the air thick with the tension he created.

“How many times a day do you do that?” He steps onto the platform and moves closer as I tinker with my iPod.

“I teach three classes a day.” I glance at him in the mirror, but once he’s captured my gaze, I can’t look away.

“Do you plank that long each time?” A smile lingers around his eyes.

“Maybe.” I shrug and continue flipping through my music.

He steps closer, and I feel his warm breath on the nape of my neck. I haven’t forgotten that he’s shirtless. Far from it. Shivers of pleasure shoot down my back even as the logical part of my brain tells me he’s the enemy. Him and his damn sweets.

“Maybe?” His smile colors his words. “I thought I was getting the royal treatment with all that extra time.”

I turn to face him. “Class is over. You should go.”

He’s close, too close, his green eyes boring into me as my breath hitches in my throat.

“I haven’t paid yet.” His eyes flit to my lips.

“It’s on me.” My voice comes out in a breathy whoosh. “You can go.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” His tone is a mix of seduction and sweetness, and it rises to my head like fizzy champagne.

I try to put steel in my voice. “This is my studio and you—”

His kiss is sudden yet gentle, his lips pressing against mine and his hands going to my waist. My body lights up like the town Christmas tree. I put a hand to his bare chest and push him back.

He breaks the kiss. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

My head spins, and I want his hands on me again, his mouth against mine. He runs a hand through his dark hair and backs up a step. His erection presses against his shorts, and my knees go weak. I did that, me. Chubby Olive Granderson has the track star under her thumb. The thought races through my blood like cocaine. I run my palm down his chest, and he groans as I press my body against his.

This kiss isn’t sweet. It’s rough and full of need from both of us. I ignore the nagging voice in the back of my head that says he’s bad news, and I open my mouth for his delving tongue. I moan and dig my nails into his sides as he presses me to him. Heat rips through me like a flash fire, and desire begins to coil in my center.

He runs a hand to my ponytail and pulls, angling my head sideways as our tongues explore. I don’t remember ever being kissed so fully, so completely. There’s only Hank, his hands on me and his mouth possessing mine. He tastes fresh and sweet, as if he’s been sampling mint chocolate cookies.

I take a breath when he kisses down to my throat and runs his teeth along my neck. This is going too far, but I want it to go even farther. I should push him away, but all I want to do is melt into him as his hands rove my body and his mouth worships my neck. Has anything ever felt this good? No, definitely not.

The door to my studio swings open, and I stumble back against the music deck. Hank turns to look. My mom stomps the snow off her boots, her eyes focused downward, as I step away from Hank. By the time she gets in the door, I’ve hopped off the platform and am making my way to her.

“Welcome!” I say far too loudly.

“Well, good morning to you, too.” Mom smiles and walks in as Hank dons his t-shirt. “And who is this?”

“Hank Winters.” He walks over and takes her hand in a warm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

She gives me a startled look, then turns back to him. “Oh, the candy shop owner I’ve heard so much about?” She clears her throat. “Your divinity is the best I’ve tasted, even better than what my granny used to make.”

“Mom!” Even my own blood had turned traitor?

“What?” She shrugs. “Your father picked up a few things for us to try.”

“It’s just that—” I stop myself before finishing with you know how much I hate the candy shop.

Hank smirks at me, but continues his conversation with my mother without missing a beat. “Well, thank you. It’s an old Winters’ recipe, and I source the pecans from the Yarbrough farm right outside of town.”

Her eyes mist as she glances at me and then back to Hank. “Lordy, that brings back memories of picking up pecans after school and taking them home in the hopes of spurring my mom into making a pie.”

“Did it work?” Hank asks.

“I got lucky on occasion.” She chuckles and wipes at her eyes. My mother, who rules this town with an iron fist and a hairdo that won’t move a centimeter in the strongest wind, just got teary over a dessert.

Hank gives her a warm smile, his friendly demeanor far more charming than it should be. With every word from his lips, my attraction grows stronger. I’m a fool to let it rule me, but I fall under his spell right along with my mom. The same feelings from high school—longing chief among them—well up inside me. I need to get away from him, to regain my composure.

“I’d best get back to the shop.” Hank peers across the street. “Morning rush is coming up.”

I fight the disappointment that flows through my heart. “Thanks for visiting.”

“I’m going to need you to return the favor later this evening. I have something for you at the shop.” He opens the door for two more students, Lizzie and Grace. They shuffle in and strip off their coats, revealing svelte 19-year-old bodies and bright smiles.

He doesn’t look at them, not even a stray glance. His eyes are on me. “Please say you’ll come by.”

“I, um—”

“When a gentleman offers you a gift, you take it, Olive Rue Granderson. She’ll be by tonight, for sure.” My mom continues into the studio and lays her mat on the floor.

I glower at her. She doesn’t pay me any attention and starts up a conversation with Lizzie.

“She’s nice. I like her.” He pushes out the door and into the bitter wind. “See you tonight.”

“I don’t know—”

“Olive!” My mom barks.

“Oh my god.” I flush with embarrassment and curse the day I talked my mom into coming to yoga classes. “Fine. Yes. I’ll come by.”

“Thanks.” He grins. “See you tonight.”

Hank

She stands in her doorway, looking across the street at my shop and wringing her hands.

“Thanks for these. I’ll have to hide them from the kids or they’ll be gone before I have a chance to eat one.” Jenna, a friend from my high school days, stuffs some spiced chocolate drops into her purse.

“Good to see you again.”

“You too.” She hurries out into the blustery night, and I flip the switch to turn off the glowing candy sign.

Olive hesitates, and I can almost hear the war going on in her head. I want to put her at ease, but I also want to push her over the edge. And I think she’s more interested in falling than she lets on.

I open the door and call out to her, “Come on over. You’ll like what I have for you.”

I know how it sounds, and the double entendre is very much intended. After that kiss this morning, I ran to the shop, up the stairs to my apartment and took a cold shower. It was the only way I would be able to function for the rest of the day. A constant hard-on, thanks to Olive, didn’t seem like a good business plan for selling candy.

She looks both ways, then crosses the slick street. Her yoga pants hug her legs, and her heavy coat covers whatever top she’s wearing. When she steps onto the sidewalk, she inhales deeply. I don’t think she even knows she does it, but the sugar in the air is too much of a temptation, even for her. She revels in it, just like I do.

“What did you want to show me?” She hovers outside my open door.

“Come on in where it’s warm. It’s almost done.”

She scrunches her nose, then checks the street for any onlookers. Once satisfied that we’re alone, she steps inside, and I let the door close behind her.

“What is that?” She closes her eyes and shucks her coat, revealing a gray, long sleeved t-shirt underneath. “It smells even better than usual in this devil’s playground.”

I laugh. “Devil’s playground?”

She runs her fingers along the jars of lollipops. “Yep. Definitely.” She seems more at ease this time, though still liable to bolt if I make the wrong move.

“It’s your surprise.” I pull out a chair from a back table for her. “Please, have a seat, and I’ll bring it right out.”

A timer dings in the kitchen as she sinks into the chair.

“I’ll be back.” I hurry through the door into the kitchen and slide a mini pie out of my convection oven. The crust is a deep golden brown, and the apples inside bubble in a brown sugar syrup that coats the lattice along the top.

I slide the small pie onto a plate, scoop a dollop of ice cream on top, and drizzle caramel all over it. The ice cream begins to melt as I grab two spoons and head out into the dining room.

Olive’s eyes widen as I approach and set the plate in front of her.

“Your love of candy apples gave me an idea.” I hand her a spoon. “This is a candy apple pie. It has the same ingredients, just done a little differently than what you’d expect. I hope you like it.”

She holds her spoon, but doesn’t make a move to taste it. “I can’t. I mean, this is nice and all but, I don’t eat sweets anymore.” Even as she says it, she licks her lips.

“Just a taste is all I ask.” I lean back, trying to give her enough space to make her own choice. “If you don’t like it, that’s fine. But I’d like you to be the first to try my recipe and tell me if it has that special Christmas magic.”

“I …” She chews her lip.

“Please?” I catch her gaze and hold it. “Just a bite?”

She eyes the pie like it might explode. “One bite and that’s it?”

“Yes.”

She’s still waffling, but then she does something that blows me away. She opens up to me. “It’s just that I’ve worked really hard to turn myself into this.” She speaks in a near whisper and glances down at her trim body. “I don’t want to go back to being that girl who sat on the bleachers and watched you run. Or the girl who was a little too fond of chocolate. Or the girl who never had a date until she went to college.”

My heart expands and booms against my ribs as I reach out and take her free hand. She doesn’t pull away, and I feel as if I’m floating. “I liked that girl. A lot. Still do.”

“You don’t mean that.” She shakes her head and looks down.

“Hey.” I pull her chin up so our eyes meet. “I mean every word. I liked you then. I like you now. You’re still Olive to me—sweet, shy, and unbelievably sexy.”

“But you don’t even know me.” Her eyebrows draw down. “Not really.”

“I know enough.” I lean back. “Now give it a taste before it gets cold.”

A small smile creeps across her lips. “You’re bossy.”

You have no idea.

She takes a deep breath and presses her spoon into the crust, then deeper into the apples and caramel filling.

I mentally cross my fingers as she pulls the spoon out and blows on the hot apples. Thinking back, I remember the first time I saw her once I got back to town. My realtor had taken me to the rundown Sullivan Shoes building across from her studio. He touted that I could convert it into my candy shop. After going through the dilapidated downstairs and inspecting the junk-filled upper floor, I’d written the location off my list. That is, until I saw Olive across the street. She was standing in her front window affixing holiday decals to the glass. Her hair was free and flowing as she sang along to some tune I couldn’t hear. When I saw her that day, I realized I’d finally discovered what happiness could be. I told the realtor the location was perfect, and I’d set about wooing Olive.

Now, as she tentatively puts the first bite into her mouth, I hold my breath. She can’t possibly know how much she means to me, but I intend to show her if she’ll let me.

Olive

A mouth orgasm. Mouth-gasm? I don’t know what to call it, but I know what it feels like. Heaven.

“Oh, my god.” I lick my spoon, completely giving myself over to the deliciousness on my tongue.

“Yeah?” He stares at my mouth, and I realize there is something insanely hot about him watching me enjoy this dessert.

“Yes.” I take another bite and practically moan through the tartness of the apples, the sweetness of the caramel, and the flaky, buttery crust.

Our eyes meet, and something in the air—or inside me—combusts. He’s out of his chair and yanking me out of mine in a moment. When our lips meet this time, there’s no room for doubt. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he pulls me close, pressing me against him as our breath tangles.

His hands rove me, finally settling on my ass as he lifts me and perches me on the counter. I can’t get enough of his kiss, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. It’s temporary insanity, but I can’t seem to put a stop to it.

He ropes my ponytail around his fist and pulls my head back, then trails his lips down my throat. I sigh as he nibbles at my neck and brings one hand up to cup my breast. When he rakes my nipple with his thumb, I jolt at the shock of arousal that shoots through me.

He claims my mouth again and palms my breast. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” He pinches my nipple, and I arch my back. His erection presses against my thigh.

“Hank.” I clutch his sides. “We can’t…” My protest dissolves into a moan that he catches in his mouth.

He backs up an inch and grabs the hem of my t-shirt.

I lift my arms, and he strips me down to my sports bra, my nipples erect against the fabric.

He drops his head to my right breast and bites me through the cotton.

“Oh, god.” I grab onto his shoulders as he pulls down the other cup and sucks my nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicks the tip, and pleasurable tension ricochets through me.

“Off.” He stands and grabs the band of my bra before yanking it up and off my head. Staring at my chest, he blinks hard. “Even better than I imagined.” He dives down—sucking, licking, and biting as I run my hands through his hair and grip him.

My pussy throbs, no doubt pleased with these new developments given my dry spell. But this is too soon.

“We have to stop.” My protest comes out breathy and weak.

Hank grabs my hand and presses my palm against his erection. I bite my lip.

“Who are you trying to convince?” He rubs my palm back and forth against him, and I’m desperate for more.

He pushes me back until I’m lying on the counter. My skin presses against the cold marble, and my nipples tighten even more. He turns his back, and my sanity begins to return bit by bit.

“It’s just that we don’t really know each other, and it’s been a long time for me and—” My voice dies in my throat when he turns back around.

He holds a spatula covered in warm caramel. Hovering over me, he drizzles it on my nipple. I whimper at the heat and moan when he bends down and licks me clean. Jesus.

He does it again with my other nipple, then swipes his finger across the sticky sweetness and runs it along my lips.

“Open.”

I do, and he presses his finger into my mouth. Mmm. I close my eyes and run my tongue along it, lapping up the caramel and sucking every last bit from him.

He groans and pulls his finger out, then kisses me, sharing the sweet taste. My hands go to his shirt and start wrestling with the buttons. He whips it off, buttons pinging on the candy jars. His hard chest hits mine, and the thrill of skin-to-skin contact rushes through my veins.

Sliding down my body, he hooks his fingers into my pants and panties. With a yank, he pulls them down to my knees. My ass is still on the counter, my legs hanging off the end. He leans over and runs his tongue sideways along my pussy. I jerk and paw at his hair. He doesn’t stop, only moves around and pulls my pants and panties down farther so he can spread my thighs.

“Hank, please …” What was I going to request? All thoughts cease when he fastens his mouth to my clit and flicks it with his tongue.

“You’re sweeter than anything in this shop.” He flattens his palms against my thighs and pushes them apart, then buries his face in my pussy.

I buck, then settle against the counter as he licks and sucks, his mouth doing wicked things to me. All I can do is grip the sides of the counter as he tongues me and teases me. He groans into me, then stabs his tongue into my entrance.

“Tight.” He licks inside me again, and everything in my body goes taut. Easing back to my clit, he runs a finger to my entrance and presses inside. “Pinch your nipples. I want to watch.” He slicks the broad side of his tongue against my clit.

I snag my hard nipples and twist, sending small sparks of pleasure erupting from my breasts to the spot where Hank licks me fervently. He doesn’t stop, completely focused on his task as my back begins to arch and my pussy tightens around his finger. When he adds a second finger, I can’t breathe, the air caught in my lungs as he dances the tip of his tongue in the perfect spot.

The orgasm hits with a steady thump inside me as the air whooshes out of my lungs. His name and god’s mingle as I talk nonsense, the wave of pleasure carrying me far out to sea as he keeps licking and sucking at my tender places. My legs shake, and I moan as the last of my release leaves my body. I relax against the counter, my skin covered in a light sheen of sweat.

He drops a kiss on my pussy, then stands and scoops me into his arms. I’m boneless, sated, and not entirely sure that I didn’t have an out-of-body experience.

“Let’s go to my place.” He kisses my forehead, then carries me through the back of the store, up a set of wide wooden steps, and into his loft above the store. Everything has been renovated, but still maintains an industrial flare. We pass an open kitchen with stainless steel appliances, a living room with a flat-screen TV, and then into a bedroom. He places me on the bed covered with a simple white comforter, then kneels and strips off my shoes and pants.

My mind begins to come back, and I suddenly feel my nakedness. I drape an arm across my breasts and press my thighs together.

He glances up, his eyes gleaming even in the low light. “You don’t have to hide from me. Every inch of you is beautiful.” He places sweet kisses along my knees and up both thighs, then skips up to my stomach. I try to tighten up, but he shakes his head against me.

“Relax.”

He lingers there and makes my body tremble with his soft lips against the stomach that I’ve worked for years to get rid of. “Gorgeous.”

He kisses northward, following the valley between my breasts to my throat and then to my lips.

“I should go,” I murmur against him. I want to stay, to see what else he has in store for me, but what we’ve done has already complicated things too much. We aren’t friends. Hell, I barely know him. This is a bad idea to top all other bad ideas, like bitter sprinkles on top of a regret sundae. Maybe I’m the same girl I was in high school—my love of sweets is still my downfall.

He kisses me gently and smooths my hair back from my face. “Why?”

“Because this is too much. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. I’m not the sort of girl who just jumps into bed with someone.”

He gives me a puzzled look. “I know you. You’ve known me for years.”

“Not like this.” I pull the corner of his comforter up to cover myself. “I should get home.”

“Wait.” He stands and backs away. “Just hear me out, okay?”

“Hear you out?” I stare at the hard length pressing against the front of his jeans. “You bake me a pie and then I just—I just—” I press my palm against my forehead. “I fall into your bed? What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” He walks over and sits next to me. “How many ways can I tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met? Inside and out.”

“But you don’t know that!” I huff out a breath as my reason wars with the happy emotions his words create inside me. “We’re strangers.”

“I know how you taste. Pretty sure that means we aren’t strangers.”

I glare at him, and he continues, “We went to school together. I thought you were hot and smart then. Turns out I was right. You went to college and became a business owner. More than that, you volunteer in the community, and everyone here loves you. Even my parents have told me how great you are. I may have been gone the past few years, but I kept up with you. How could I not? You are everything that I missed about home, all tied up in one beautiful package.”

The sincerity in his tone knocks a few more bricks off the wall I’ve tried to build between us. “You thought I was hot?”

“In school? Hell yes.” He gives me an incredulous stare. “Why do you think Pace Beverly went around bragging to everyone that he’d boned you?”

I cover my face with my hands. “I didn’t even know about that, and I find it really hard to believe.”

“It’s true. I swear. I still want to kick his ass for it. I didn’t even know what true jealousy felt like until the day he told me. I’d wanted you for so long.” He pulls my hands away from my face. “I swear it’s the truth.”

Either he was the best liar I’d ever encountered or he was being honest. “So, if all that’s true, why didn’t you ask me out?”

“Pace. We were friends. I didn’t want to cause problems. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I should have thrown all that aside and just asked. You were worth the fallout.”

I change tactics to try and avoid the warm feelings spinning through me. “What about you? You could be a serial killer, or worse, a dog person.”

He laughs. “Me? I did the usual college thing, then traveled like I said. I loved the freedom of it, but the entire time I was gone, I knew I’d come home eventually. To stay for good.”

“And you just had to open a candy shop?”

“Look.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him. “I know you think the shop is, I don’t know, like the nemesis of your studio, right?”

“Something like that.” I nod.

“It isn’t. People enjoy sweets. No matter how much they sweat it out in your studio, they’re still going to want to reward themselves or maybe just do something nice for someone they love. Candy is one of the most heartfelt ways to do that. Even if your students come to my shop sometimes, your studio will still be standing. And, hey, think about it like this. My shop will ensure that you always have clients. Right?” He waggles his eyebrows.

I laugh despite myself. “I haven’t thought of it that way.”

He kisses my jaw, his lips moving down to the spot right below my ear. “I’ve thought about it a lot. Ever since I got back to town and saw you doing downward dog across the way.”

I elbow him, but he keeps kissing me, tracing a path down to my shoulder. I breathe deeply as goosebumps race across my skin.

“You and candy have been the only things on my mind for the past few months.” He slides his hand under the blanket and grips my waist.

“You’ve been on my mind, too, but mostly in various stages of injury.”

“That so?” He bites my shoulder and pushes me onto my back.

I let him. “Yes.”

His hand roves higher and cups my breast. I press my thighs together as my core grows wet.

I run my hands through his hair and pull as he kisses down to my nipple. “Why does it have to be you? Of all the people, why did you have to come back and open that shop?”

“Destiny, maybe?” He sucks my stiff peak into his mouth, and I squeeze his hair harder.

“More like the devil.” I moan when he slides his hand between my legs and massages my clit.

He smiles against my breast and moves to the other one, sucking and licking me into a frenzy. When he sinks two fingers inside me, I bite my lip and work my hips against his hand.

“This is a bad idea.” I pull his head up to mine.

He kisses me and runs his knee between my thighs. “Right,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Bad.” I spread my legs wider and he puts both knees between them, then rises up and unbuckles his belt and undoes his jeans. When he flips his boxers down, his cock pops out, the shaft smooth and the head a light purple. He’s big, but not too big. I fear I may be in the Goldilocks situation—he looks just right.

“Jesus, I can feel your eyes on it.” He shucks his jeans and shorts and climbs on top of me. His mouth is insistent, and he kisses me harder while pinning my hands next to my head. I’ve never felt so owned by anyone.

His cock slides against my clit, and I make a keening sound into his mouth. His tongue swirls around mine as he rubs his cock back and forth against my slick folds. Thank god I’m on the pill, because he doesn’t seem inclined to stop, and I’m eager to feel him moving inside me. But then doubt creeps in.

“Wait.” I press my forehead against his. “I haven’t, um. I haven’t done this in a while, so I don’t know if I’m … I don’t know how good—”

He bites my bottom lip. “How many times do I have to tell you you’re perfect?” His nibble turns into a sweet kiss. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you as many times as you’ll let me.”

I smile against his lips. “Okay.”

“Good, now if I don’t get inside you, I might lose my mind.” He slides his tip lower, and I dig my heels into the backs of his thighs.

He pushes forward slightly. I feel a pinch and then that delicious friction.

“You’re so wet for me.” He slides farther in and stops so I can adjust. His arms shake as he kisses me.

I press my palms flat against his back, urging him forward. He sinks fully inside me, and I moan at the sensation of stretching to accommodate him.

“God, Hank.” My voice shakes on an exhale, and my body hums against his.

He slides out and then back in. “So fucking sexy.”

“Don’t stop.” I run my nails down his back as he starts a steady, slow rhythm.

My breasts rub against his hard chest, making the tips even harder. I entwine my hands around his neck and hold on as he increases his tempo.

“I feel like I’ve gone back to when we were seventeen.” He lifts his head, and I lick along the line of his Adam’s apple. He groans. “Because, Jesus, you’re tight, and I don’t know how long I’ll last.”

I spread my legs wider, my heels toward the ceiling as he pistons into me, both of us breathing hard as he works me over. Each stroke increases the tension in my clit, and I curl my toes.

He lifts up on one elbow and licks the thumb of his free hand before snaking it between us. When he presses on my clit, I jolt and dig my nails into his shoulders. His touches make my legs shake. I can feel myself clenching tighter and tighter as he strokes me inside and out.

“I’m close.” I stare up into his eyes.

He’s drawn tight, each thrust eliciting a masculine grunt, and his thumb keeps pace with his hips.

“Come, because I’m there.” He embeds himself deeply and strokes my clit.

My hips seize and I come on a deep moan. Each wave rolls through me until I’m completely awash in pleasure. Only when I’m coming back down does he pull out.

“Fuck.” He strokes himself, and I lean up and watch as he coats my pussy. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

When he’s finished, I collapse back onto the bed.

He leans over and presses a kiss to my lips. “That was hotter than my cayenne chocolates.”

“You and your sweets.” I try to sound disapproving, but my smile overcomes it.

He drops another kiss on me. “You’re the sweetest of all.”

Hank

“Thanks for stopping in. Tell Lina I’ll be over on Christmas Eve.” I wave my Aunt Rae out the door, her arms laden with cookies and treats for my cousins and their children.

My gaze travels across the street to where Olive is teaching her second class of the day. I can barely see her in the back of the room, but I’ve already memorized her curves. Last night is seared into my mind, and I can’t wait to be near her again. It’s taking all my willpower to stay behind my counter instead of walking across the street to her.

She has walls, bricks stacked higher than any building in this small town. But when they come down and I can see the real her, it brings me to my knees. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Hell, I want to pour my heart out to her—tell her my hopes, my dreams, my thoughts, every detail of my past. More than that, I want to know everything about her. Even now, I’m wondering what sort of perfume she wears that makes her smell like warm crème brûlée, what side of the bed she sleeps on, and whether she wants to have kids.

Instead of following my heart and interrupting her class, I follow my nose and turn to stir the caramel warming on the counter behind me. I slide the spatula through the sticky sugar. It’s almost melted, the light brown surface shiny and growing smoother by the second.

The bell on the shop door tinkles, and I turn to find Will Shurtz, the county health inspector. His round face is red, and he eyes my shop with a discomfort that makes me nervous. A clipboard is clutched in his left hand.

“Will, how’s it going?” I push the plate of fudge samples toward him. “Try one. I’m experimenting with chocolate from Zanzibar.”

He edges up, his eyes on the velvety fudge, but straightens his back at the last second and snaps his eyes to mine. “Here on official business. So, I can’t.”

“Official business?” I turn back to my caramel and stir it, then flick the burner off so it can cool.

“Right.”

“What’s going on?”

“Well, we’ve had a report of unsafe conditions here at the shop.”

I whirl. “What?”

“I got a call—”

“From who?”

“I can’t say.” He glances to Olive’s studio.

I grit my teeth. “Olive?”

He drops his gaze to the floor. “Like I said, that’s confidential.”

Did she regret last night? What did I do? I itch to run to her and find out.

“Anyway, it appears the report was well-founded.” He points to the burner on the back counter.

“That?” I raise my eyebrows.

“Yes. City code 3463-44 prohibits open flames in areas where customers gather.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Customers aren’t gathering behind the counter.”

He scratches the side of his bald head. “But they could.”

“What about Hibachi House? Do you tell Mr. Lee that he can’t cook in front of the guests? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him make a mean onion volcano on plenty of occasions.”

“That’s, um, that’s different.” His brow wrinkles.

“How?”

“Well.” He coughs into his palm. Stalling. Then his eyes widen. “That’s a restaurant. He has a restaurant license. You don’t. You have a regular business license.”

Shit. “So, what, you’re going to fine me for having a single burner to melt caramel? Come on, Will. It’s Christmas.”

“No, not fine you. The code says we have to shut you down while I inspect the unsafe condition and present my findings at the next council meeting.”

My heart sinks. “Shut me down? It’s five days before Christmas. When’s the next council meeting?”

He looks up, his lips moving as he’s counting days. “That will be January 18.”

“No.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You can’t shut my store down during the busiest time of the year and then not reopen it until mid-January. That would kill it. I’d never be able to reopen!”

“Rules are rules, Hank.” He shrugs and starts writing on his clipboard. “Nothing I can do about it. I’m afraid you’re going to have to close.”

Panic sets in. “Will, come on. There has to be something I can do to stay open.”

“No, afraid not.” He gives me a sad look. “I have to follow the law. It’s not personal.” Turning, he heads back out the door. “I’ll give you half an hour, but if you haven’t ceased operations by then, I’ll have to call Sheriff Green.”

I fist my hands, but there’s nothing to be done. Will leaves and walks past the window with his head down.

I glance at the class going on across the street and see Olive walking around among her students and inspecting their poses. She finally got her wish.

Reaching under the counter, I flip the switch that darkens my sign for good.

Olive

“So, was it magical, amazing, like finding the last unicorn, what?” Candace stares at me as I unbraid my hair. “Come on, give me the details. I want to live vicariously!”

“I enjoyed it.” Understatement of the year. I’d never been with a man like Hank—one who took charge in the bedroom and also made a mean apple pie.

“How big was it? Huge? He’s tall so it must be huge, right?” She takes the brush from my hands and starts running it through my locks as I lean closer to the mirror in the studio’s private bathroom.

Given the soreness between my thighs, I’d have to say he was well endowed, but I didn’t kiss and tell. “He was, let’s say, more than adequate.”

“More than adequate?” She smiles and brushes my hair with gleeful vigor. “I knew it.”

“You guessing he’s hung doesn’t exactly mean you’re the oracle of Hollyton.”

“Oh, shush. I wasn’t even talking about that. I’m saying that I knew he was the one for you.” She finishes untangling my hair and then perches on the vanity. “Ever since high school, there’s been something there.”

I snag my tube of mascara and begin applying it to my lashes. “That reminds me of something. Did you know that Pace Beverly told everyone that we were sleeping together?”

She shrugs and avoids my eyes. “I heard a rumor, yeah.”

I stop the wand mid-stroke. “You knew? And didn’t tell me?”

“Well, back then, I figured it would sort of, I don’t know, help your goody-two-shoes reputation. Remember when we got invited to all the parties the second half of senior year?”

“Yeah.” I gawk at her. “I do.”

She pretends to pick a piece of lint from her top. “I’m pretty sure we got into those because of the rumors.”

I ram the mascara wand back into the tube. “Candace!”

“What?” She hops off the vanity and backs to the door. “Oh, come on. That was forever ago, and we all know Pace is now happily married to a man. No harm done.”

I snatch up the wooden paddle brush and brandish it at her.

She giggles and takes off down the hall toward the front of the studio. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Why you little bi—”

“Hey, what’s wrong with Hank’s shop?” She’d made it to the front windows and was staring across the street.

“Don’t try to distract me.”

“No, seriously, the lights are out and it’s only six o’clock.”

I walk up beside her and see that she’s right. His sign is dark, and I don’t see anyone inside.

“Weird.” She cocks her head. “Especially since he’s usually busy around this time. I saw Will over there earlier. I wonder if—”

“Shit! Will Shurtz?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

I wring my hands. “Oh no, oh no.”

Candace turns to me and crosses her arms over her chest. “What did you do?”

“A few days ago, before Hank and I . . . Anyway, I went to his shop and saw he had an open burner behind the counter, so I—”

“You didn’t.” Her face falls.

“I did.” I put a hand to my throat. “But it was before. I forgot all about it. Shit, shit, shit!” I feel like the floor is sinking beneath me.

“Here.” She walks to her coat hanging by the door and fishes out her cell. “Let me get Will on the phone.” She swipes through her contacts, hits the button, and puts it on speaker.

“Candace?”

“Hey Will.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Don’t get fresh with me, buddy.” Candace adopts her no-nonsense tone as I stand frozen with shame. “Why did you shut down Hank’s shop?”

“Ask your friend Olive. She called me a few days ago and reported a violation. When I went to see about it, I found out she was right. City code says I have to shut him down.”

“The city code can suck on a lemon as far as I’m concerned.” Candace’s voice rises. “Now you get back over here and tell him everything’s all right.”

“No can do. I can’t just go back on it like that. He’s shut down until the council meets again.”

“Oh my god.” I stare at the phone. “When is that?”

“Olive?” He chuckles. “You sure got him good. They won’t be back in session until January 18.”

“No.” I can feel the blood draining from my face.

“Will, I need you to fix this.”

“He almost had me,” Will continued, “saying something about Mr. Lee and his fire onions, but I wasn’t falling for it. His license is on hold, and there won’t be a decision until January. Well, I’ve got to go. Dot has me caroling with the Baptist choir tonight.”

I reach for the phone. “Wait, Will, could you please just—”

The phone goes dark. He’s hung up, and I’ve hung Hank out to dry.

* * *

I ring the shop’s bell and wait as the sound of Christmas carols waft through the air. A group of singers walk around the town square and head into the residential area of town, their voices harmonious.

“Who is it?” Hank’s glum voice calls through the speaker.

“Me.”

Silence as “Deck the Halls” echoes down the street.

“Please, Hank. Let me explain.”

More silence. I wait. Another minute passes before I see movement inside the shop. Hank walks over and unlocks the door, but he doesn’t invite me in.

“Say what you came to say. Then leave.” He peers down at me, and I can smell whiskey on his breath.

“Can I come in?”

He eyes me warily, then backs up so I can walk inside. The sweet scents still swirl in the air, but the shop is colder now.

“You turned me in.” He lets the door close, then leans against the wall.

“Yes.” I swallow hard. “It was a mistake.”

He bounces the back of his head against the drywall. “Did you call Will while I was in the shower or did you have the decency to wait until after you left this morning?”

“I didn’t call this morning. I called two days ago. Will isn’t the punctual sort, come to find out.”

He lets out a breath, but still doesn’t look at me. “You hated me so much that you tried to get my entire shop shut down? To kill my livelihood?”

Guilt hits me like a punch in the gut. “Yes, but that was before—”

“Before what? Before I told you how much I adore you, how great I think you are? At no point during any of that did it occur to you that you set me up?”

Tears well in my eyes, because he’s right. “I should have thought about it, should have done something to call it off. But I didn’t, and now I can’t take it back.”

“I’m shut down until January 18. I’ll miss all the Christmas business, but I’ll still have plenty of bills to pay.” He walks to the counter and runs his hand along the marble. “Contractors will come calling for all the work they put into this place. My credit will be shot, and I’ll have nothing to show for it. All this will be gone. You’ll get what you wanted.” His shoulders slump.

A tear rolls down my cheek. “There has to be something we can do.”

“We?” He hangs his head. “I thought there could be a we. But I was wrong. You aren’t who I thought you were.”

How can my heart be ripping in half right when it finally felt whole? “Hank, please—”

“You should go.”

“I’m sorry.” I know it’s inadequate, but it’s all I’ve got.

He doesn’t turn around.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks and wish that I could find the right words to comfort him.

“Please go.”

The sting pierces deep and more tears spill over. I pull open the door and walk into the frigid night.

Hank

My head pounds as I lean in the doorway between the kitchen and front of my shop. Morning light filters through the front windows, and I wince against the brightness. I reach over and turn on the coffee maker just inside the kitchen. It gurgles to life and begins its morning routine. Usually, I’d have fried up some fresh donuts and be doling them out to all my customers. Not this morning.

A car rolls by slowly, the driver peering at the shop, then speeds up. Closed. The sign on the door says it. It’s final. People filter into the studio across the street. My chest aches at the thought of Olive carrying on with her life. I thought I’d found something real. I’d been a fool. She’d played me.

I pour myself a steaming cup of coffee and sit at one of the small café tables. I’d called my city councilperson last night, hoping for a miracle. All she could tell me was that she’d address it at the meeting on the eighteenth. I could hear island music playing in the background. I was on my own.

Olive. My thoughts go back to her, to our one night together. I try to push the memory away, but it’s too fresh. My bed still smells like her, vanilla and sweet. I have to keep telling myself she’s bitter, nothing like what she seems.

A knock at the door catches my attention. I look and find Mrs. Reed standing there, a bright smile on her face.

“We’re closed.” I sip my coffee and scald my tongue.

“Open up.”

“I can’t. Closed by the health department.”

“I know that, dummy. Now open the door before I call your mother.” She raps her knuckles on the glass.

I’m a grown man, but the threat of calling my mother gets me on my feet. I unlock the door and open it for her. She strides in and pulls some folded papers out of her leopard-print bag.

“Take these. One goes on the wall in a conspicuous area. The other goes in your records.” She flips on the lights, and my hangover screams at me. “Now get this place hopping. I expect a box of divinity and half a dozen candy apples by the time I’m out of class. Even more grandkids are arriving this afternoon.”

I unfold the papers and stumble over the words and the official city insignia. “It’s a restaurant license.”

“Sure is. Olive got it for you this morning, first thing. Paid the fee and everything. You’re all set.”

“But it’s Saturday.” I shake my head.

“When you’re the mayor’s wife, you always have a few favors to call in. Just so happens I like you, and my family loves everything you make here. So, it was worth it.” She waves her hand at the counter. “Now get to it. Christmas treats aren’t going to make themselves.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I hold the door for her as she walks out. Looking up, I find Olive standing in her front window, her hands clasped beneath her chin.

I drop the papers, dash past Mrs. Reed, skid across the icy street, and burst into the studio. All the students turn to stare at me.

Olive takes a tentative step toward me. “I’m so sorry about the—”

I pull her into my arms and kiss the ever-living shit out of her. With her in my arms, everything feels right. She’s the one. I pick her up and carry her to the back of the studio.

Candace winks as I walk past. “I’ll teach the class. You two work out your differences.” She hops up onto the platform. “All right, let’s get this dog facing downward!”

I keep walking and close the hall door behind us.

“My office is on the left.” She wraps her arms around my neck. “And I’m sorry, again. So sorry.”

I turn left into her office and kick the door shut behind us. Sitting on her love seat, I cradle her in my lap and kiss her, the taste of her lips soothing all the hurt from the previous day.

I pull back and cup her face with my hands. “You saved my shop.”

She shrugs. “I kind of saved it from me, I guess.”

“Thank you.”

Her eyes water. “I’m so sorry about—”

“Shh.” I still her apology with a kiss. “You’re forgiven. I’m sorry about the things I said last night. They weren’t true. You’re everything.”

“Really?” Her eyes glisten with tears.

“Really.” I kiss her again, darting my tongue into her mouth. My cock thickens against her ass, and she makes an “oh” sound when she shifts and rubs against it.

“I want more with you, okay? I know you think it’s sudden and that we don’t know each other well enough, but I’ve wanted more with you since we were seventeen.” I rub my thumbs along her smooth cheeks. “I’ve never been more certain about anything.”

She draws her eyebrows together.

My heart chills. “Too much, too soon?”

“No.” She kisses me, and love explodes inside my heart. “You’re my just right.”

I run my hands down her back, pressing her closer. I can’t get enough.

“Can I tell you something?” I kiss to her neck and lick up to her ear. She trembles and her breath comes out in a soft pant.

“Y-yes.” She clutches my shirt.

I nibble at her earlobe and slide my hands down to her waist and under her shirt. “I’ve had a fantasy about you.”

“Yeah?” She drops her head back, and I kiss to her collarbone. “Like what?”

“Well.” I slide my hand down to the waistband of her yoga pants. “It involves these.”

“My pants?”

I press my fingers lower and ease them into her panties. She’s wet, and I circle her clit slowly with my index finger. “Do you happen to have a spare set?”

Olive

“A spare set?” I moan as he flicks his finger across my clit. “Yes.”

“Perfect.” He presses two fingers inside me.

“Hank.” I sigh as he pulls down the cup of my sports bra and captures a nipple in his mouth. “What are you going to do to my pants?”

He laughs against my breast, and it sends a shiver of pleasure through me. In a quick movement, he turns me over and presses my chest against the arm of the love seat. He yanks my ass into the air.

“What are you—”

The ripping sound has me turning my head to gape at him. But he’s not looking at me. He stares at the hole he’s torn in my pants, then pushes my panties to the side and lowers his head. When his tongue hits my folds, I exhale on an “oh.”

“Stretch your tree to the heavens!” Candace’s over-enthusiastic voice filters through the wall.

He doesn’t stop. He explores me, tasting me deeply before running his tongue to my clit and flicking it.

Something about the way he tore open my pants turns me on more than it should, and I’m already panting and rocking my hips against his tongue. He eases two fingers into me, and I ride them.

“Jesus, I’m going to come in my pants if you keep this up.”

“Fuck me.” I can’t think about anything except him, his tongue, his cock. I want it all. “Please.”

“Fucking hell, woman.” He gets onto his knees behind me, and then I feel his head push against my wet entrance.

I push myself up on the arm of the sofa, almost planking as he eases into me with steady strokes. Once he’s all the way in, I start rocking back onto him. Before long, his skin is slapping into mine as we work together, both of us chasing our orgasms.

He grips my shoulder and pulls me up to him. Pistoning up into me, he reaches around and begins strumming my clit. I lose my rhythm as my legs begin to tremble and my hips seize.

“I’m there. I’m, I—”

He claps his hand over my mouth as I explode around his cock. I moan into his palm as he surges into me. Each wave of pleasure washes over me until I’m utterly sated. He surges into me a few more times, then groans and buries himself deep. I feel his cock kicking inside me, each spurt setting off an aftershock of bliss.

When he’s done, he sits back on the couch and pulls me into his lap again. He kisses me, his lips warm and tender.

“Are you okay?” He wipes a few sweaty strands off my forehead.

“Better than okay.” I snuggle against him. “I think I’m in love.”

Epilogue

Olive

Next Christmas

I sneak down the stairs and through the kitchen. Hank is talking to customers, assuring them that this year’s batch of Christmas confections is even better than last year’s. I hover near the door and wait for the tinkling sound of the door closing.

Peeking through the crack of the door, I watch as Hank locks the door and then turns off the Candy sign. He grabs a washcloth and begins wiping down the main counter. Our counter.

“Elf number one, reporting for duty.” I walk into the dining area, wearing nothing but a Christmas apron and a pair of red heels.

He stops wiping the counter and gives me a full up and down look. “Why, Mrs. Winters, it appears you’re interested in a few more cooking lessons.”

“I’d certainly like to know how to spice things up, so yes.”

He crooks a finger at me, and I sway my hips over to him.

When I get to him, he whips me around and presses me against the counter. “I can show you a few things.”

“Like what?”

He runs his palms up my bare ass then down again, sliding between my thighs and pressing my legs apart. “Hm, could I interest you in a yule log?”

I snort as his belt buckle jingles and then I feel his cock head moving against my entrance.

“I’m not kidding, Mrs. Winters. This yule log is of the finest quality. Sure to make your season bright.” He pushes inside me, and I bite my lip as he slides his hands under my apron to grip my breasts.

“It certainly seems—” I move my hips against him. “—robust.”

He runs his teeth along my shoulder and bites down as he pulls out and shoves back inside me. I gasp as the fronts of my thighs slap against the glass side of the counter. He pinches my nipples and grinds against me, his cock hitting me in all the right places.

“It has to be robust. After all, I’m a candy maker. It’s my job to keep the sweets nice and filling.” He kisses to the back of my neck and maintains a steady rhythm.

I crane my head back and kiss him. “You don’t just make candy anymore, though.” I stare into his eyes as his brow crinkles in confusion.

“I don’t?”

“No.” I take his hand and press it to my stomach. “You make something a bit more long lasting.”

The confusion leaves his face and is replaced with surprise. He stills. “Are you saying? Do you mean…”

“You’re going to be a daddy.” I kiss him again, then push back against him. “Doesn’t mean you get to go easy on your duties around here.”

“Oh, hell.” He pulls out, turns me around and sits me on the counter, then slides back inside. “I’ll never shirk my duties. I love you too much.”

“I love you, too.” I wrap my arms around his neck as he moves inside me, making me his again and again. “Now make me scream and then make me a candy apple.”

He kisses me. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas.”

A Cowboy for Christmas

Chapter 1

Ingram

The sun beat down as I rode along the fence separating my land from the intolerable Molly Gale’s property. I stared off in the distance toward her homestead, but nothing except a wide expanse of rolling hills covered in grasses and sage met my view. Good. I’d had enough trouble out of her already.

Despite the sunny day, the wintry air swirled around me, promising an even colder night ahead. The forecast called for snow overnight, but the building cloud bank on the horizon threatened to drop flakes even sooner.

“Better get moving, old boy.” I spurred Slingshot gently forward along the fence line.

He maintained a steady walk as I scrutinized the intersecting wooden beams, turned gray by the unforgiving sun and air just west of the Rockies. Acres and acres of land spread out before me, each hill and flat perfect for raising cattle. My father always said it was perfect for raising a family, too, but I had no interest in that. Never did, never would.

I spat and spurred Slingshot to move a little faster. A wind began picking up from the northeast, and the snow wouldn’t be far behind. By the time the first flakes began to fall, I wanted to be tucked up in the house, my dog Earl at my feet and a book on my lap.

We ate up the miles, Slingshot keeping a brisk pace as I eyeballed every bit of fence along Molly’s side. I wouldn’t stand for another one of her insinuations that I’d been stealing her cattle. Not again. I scowled and pulled my hat down tighter as I remembered how she’d walked right up to me at the co-op and started asking questions about my livestock. When she said a couple head of her cattle had gone missing, and stared up at me with those light blue eyes full of accusation, I wanted to take her over my knee.

Instead, I’d held my temper and told her to back off. “There aren’t any women on the Brady Mountain Ranch for a reason, Molly. This is a prime example of why. Now, kindly get out of my way. I need to see a man about some horseshoes.”

She’d narrowed those bright eyes and lifted her head, the brim of her hat tilting back and her red hair spilling onto her shoulders. She always wore a brightly colored kerchief—either at her neck or tucked in a pocket, just a little bit of feminine extra that drew my attention like a moth to a night light. “You couldn’t keep a woman to save your life. No one would have you.”

Tex at the counter had stopped yammering to Fred and Len, all three men turning to look at me.

“I don’t see any men knocking down your door.” I’d fisted my hands, not sure if I wanted to throttle her or yank her up and show her I knew all sorts of ways to please a woman.

“That’s because I kick them all out before daybreak.” She’d turned and sauntered away, her hips swaying, her ass looking perfect in tight jeans.

I sent up a silent prayer to Pop asking for some strength to deal with his sassy daughter. He’d been my neighbor for years, been my mentor for longer. When he passed, Molly finally decided to show up. Didn’t see hide nor hair of her the entire time her daddy was sick, but she came to claim the ranch after he died.

Making herself at home, she immediately set about to destroy my ranch with her big ideas about how to divert water for her livestock and mine. That, plus a heap of other foolishness, had led to our eventual standoff. It didn’t help that every time I got near her, I wanted to either spank her or kiss the life out of her. I was never sure which. Infuriating woman.

I gripped the reins tighter and pulled Slingshot toward home. The sky grew darker, and I’d lost track of time. The cloudbank turned a deep purple in the fading light. By morning, the entire ranch would be covered with a foot of snow, maybe more. The forecast expected a quick thaw, then another, even stronger snowstorm was set to barrel through just two days later, giving the entire area a white Christmas.

Throwing one more look at the fence, I caught a trouble spot.

“Shit.” I directed Slingshot around again toward the break in the pattern. Sure enough, the fence had fallen in, a couple of the rough-hewn logs lying to the side. The look of it struck me as wrong. It didn’t seem like simple rot or an animal busting through.

I dismounted and patted Slingshot before walking to the fence. On closer inspection, I found the logs had been set aside almost neatly. Kneeling, I inspected the ground next to the break. It didn’t take a tracker to see that several horses had run through the gate along with cattle. I didn’t keep horses in this pasture, and I was almost certain Molly didn’t keep any in this area either.

Getting to my feet, I took off my hat and ran my hand through my shaggy hair. Rustlers. Had to be. That would explain Molly’s missing cattle. When’s the last time I did a head count? I’d have to get my ranch hand Zane on it to see if any of my stock had been stolen. This was the last thing I needed.

As I paced around, a glint caught my eye. Kneeling, I ran my fingers around something shiny pressed into the dirt by hundreds of pounds of animal. I pulled my knife from my pocket and flicked it open, then dug it under the edge of the shiny object. It popped up—a mangled Zippo lighter, the silver scuffed and scratched. Turning it over, I found a set of initials that made my blood rage in my veins.

I stood and kicked the nearest sage. “Fuck!”

Slingshot whinnied, and I got myself under control. “Sorry, buddy. I hate thieves, is all.” And I couldn’t afford to be losing cattle, not after the last roundup yielded less money than any in memory. The ranch was on shaky ground, and I’d had to mortgage the house and several acres of pasture just to keep the place afloat.

With rustlers about—and one in particular—I had to let Molly know. The lighter was the evidence I needed to clear my name. Not that I cared what she thought of me, I reminded myself. Not at all. But as much as I didn’t want to see her face or hear her sassy mouth, she deserved a warning. Pop would roll over in his grave if I didn’t at least try to do right by his opportunistic daughter. Eyeing the approaching weather, I figured I’d have enough time to make it to her place and back home before the real snow started falling.

I ran my hand down Slingshot’s mane, then led him onto Molly’s property. Once he was through, I replaced the boards and sturdied up the boundary. It wouldn’t stop the rustlers, but I hated the look of a busted fence. Always had. Besides, didn’t some smart guy say that “good fences make good neighbors”? Well, I was going to be the model neighbor if that meant Molly would keep her sharp tongue to herself.

“Goddamn woman.” I mounted Slingshot and guided him toward Molly’s homestead. Her father and I had been good friends for the last twenty years. We’d worked together on our ranches, him as an old-timer with all the experience and me as a greenhorn trying to hold on to my father’s farm. Without William Gale, I’d have already bankrupted and moved away.

When he died, I lost my mentor and what was worse—Molly showed up, moved back, and began busting my balls. She took up far too much of my headspace these days, and I was happy to keep my distance from her. She got my blood up, and in more ways than one. That smart mouth needed discipline, needed a man like me to tame it. But I wouldn’t touch her, no matter how badly I wanted to. Just the thought of her deliciously thick ass under my palm had my blood running hot. I shook it off. I had to. There was work to be done.

The wind picked up, the hint of snow now a promise as the air thickened with moisture. I pulled my canvas coat closer around me and put my head down, letting Slingshot do the work.

We cantered into a wide ravine, the ephemeral stream at the bottom dry as a bone. By springtime it would be full again, watering Molly’s cattle and all the other critters in this part of the pasture.

“Come on, old boy.”

Slingshot climbed up the far slope and hurried toward the Gale homestead. He knew the way by heart, no doubt, knew this land just as well as my own. I peered into the distance, the growing gloom hiding the two-story farmhouse, though a ribbon of smoke rose into the night, promising a warm fire. Not that I wanted one. I’d be gone before I had a chance to enjoy it.

Another ravine cut through the sagebrush up ahead, and Slingshot took the embankment with ease. On the upslope, he stopped and whinnied.

“What is it?” I peered at the sage, but didn’t see anything. “Caught the scent of something?”

His whinny pitched higher as he stepped back, his hindquarters sliding down the embankment.

“Whoa.”

A familiar hiss rose from the sage ahead of us. Slingshot reared. I held on as he dropped back down, his hooves losing purchase in the loamy soil near the streambed. The hissing increased, more than one rattler disguised in the sage.

I pulled my shotgun from its holster, but couldn’t aim while Slingshot was threatening to rear again. “Whoa, boy.”

Movement caught my eye, one of the rattlers shooting out to strike Slingshot’s leg.

“Shit!” I raised my shotgun. Slingshot reared again. My hand slipped from the reins just as I fired a shot. The boom was the last thing I heard.

Chapter 2

Molly

The shotgun blast in the distance set Tanya off, her barks ricocheting through the house as I swung open the front door and peered into the falling dark. She raced out to the porch steps, barking with her hackles rising. The old mutt had always been good for security, though not much else. Her sight was almost gone, her back legs gave her trouble in the mornings, but she was still the best damn bedmate I’d ever had.

“Who is it, girl?” I patted her rump then pulled my shawl closer around my shoulders. The wind had been picking up steadily for the past hour, the approaching storm front moving faster than anyone had anticipated.

The door to the weathered cabin near the barn opened and my year-round farmhand Julia strode out. “What the hell was that?”

“Not sure.” I didn’t want to go out into the sage brush if it could be avoided. The weather was deteriorating fast. Then again, if someone was out there stealing cattle, I needed to know. “Maybe it’s Santa stopping by early?” I added with a wry grin.

“Bringing a shotgun instead of candy canes?” Julia walked to the steps, her limp a little less pronounced, the crow’s feet next to her eyes crinkling as she peered up at me. “Reckon I should go take a look?”

A gust blew by and kicked up some fine grit as we both looked into the night.

“The weather isn’t going to hold.” I shook my head. “But I have to check it out.”

“I’ll do it.” She took a step toward her cabin.

“No, your leg needs another month. If it doesn’t heal right, Doc said he’d have to send you to Denver for surgery.” I couldn’t risk her, not now. She was an experienced rancher, a widow who’d taken the spot at my ranch when I needed her most. I never got her backstory, and that was fine with me. I was concerned with the future. She seemed to be, too. I had to keep her in good shape to get through the winter and all the work the spring would bring. “I’ll head out there.”

“I can ride.” She was stubborn, too.

“I know. But I want you watching the homestead. If it’s rustlers, we’ll be in a world of shit if we’re both stuck out in the sage when the storm hits. One of us needs to stay here and call for help if it comes to it.”

She shook her head. “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.” I turned to walk back in the house and get ready.

“Hold up.”

“What?” I glanced behind me.

“Something’s coming.”

Tanya barked, and I peered into the darkness. A series of thudding steps carried on the wind.

“Horse,” Julia said just as I thought the same thing.

We’d put all our horses in the barn earlier in the afternoon before the weather turned.

I walked down the steps and toward the wooden fence at the edge of the homestead. A brown horse galloped toward me, the dark saddle on its back empty.

“That’s Ingram’s horse, Slingshot.” Julia caught up to me.

The beast slowed and trotted up to the fence line. It nickered as I reached out to run a hand along its nose. Alarm bells sounded in my mind. I needed to get out there, to find Ingram. What the hell was going on? If he was trying to rustle my cattle, he’d picked a piss-poor night to do it. Julia and I had packed our prize animals in the barn and put the others in a pen protected with windbreaks on the other side of the homestead. It was the only way to keep them alive during the coming storms.

“I’ll get my gear. Hang on to him till I get back.” I hurried into the house and pulled on my boots, a winter coat, my hat, and grabbed a flashlight before heading back outside. Julia was comforting Slingshot as I walked up, hopped the fence, stowed my shotgun in the empty holster along his side, then mounted the horse.

“I’ve got the radio in my pocket. I’ll let you know what’s going on when I find out. If you don’t hear from me in half an hour, call the sheriff. If you hear any more shots, call the sheriff.”

“I still don’t like it.” She gripped the top of the fence, her hands tanned from a life lived outdoors.

“I’ll be back.” I dug my heels in lightly. Slingshot didn’t complain, and instead, turned and took off the way he’d come.

Another blast of Arctic air whipped through me and rattled the barn doors. The horses inside whinnied, then settled down as we passed. Night had fallen quickly, and the approaching clouds obscured what little moonlight there was. It was not a night to be out on the hills.

“Ingram, you better be dead or dying.” I pulled my hat down low to block the wind.

I urged Slingshot onward, and he picked up his pace as we entered the open range. He was surefooted, and though I’d never ridden him before, he took instruction well. My thoughts returned to his owner. Ingram Brady had become an institution in this area ever since his father died and he took over the ranch next door. I’d known him when I was a teenager, but never more than as my father’s friend. He was a good ten years older than I was, which always put him into the “grown-up” category in my young mind. I was too busy planning to go to college to bother with the next-door neighbor who seemed intently driven for his ranch to succeed. He was all business, and if I had been more interested in boys at the time, I would’ve realized how handsome he was. But I didn’t care. I intended to leave the ranch behind and make my way in Chicago, or New York, or some foreign locale.

I shook my head. All those best laid plans, in the end, amounted to two degrees, no real career prospects, and multiple jobs waiting tables and serving coffee. When my father died, I returned to the ranch. It brought up a tornado of memories, many of them sad. The death of my mother, chief among them. But there were happy ones, too. Pop and I keeping my mom’s gingerbread house tradition going every Christmas—even though our houses turned into lopsided structures with ridiculous amounts of icing, or the familiar scent of my father’s pipe. The whole time I’d lived here, I thought my future was somewhere else, somewhere “out there.”

But when I returned to the ranch—and to my utter shock—I realized this was my true home. The land, the animals, and the people gave my heart a sense of comfort I hadn’t felt since I left. So, I stayed and took over the ranch.

Slingshot labored up the side of a deep ravine and came out at the top of a small ridge that ran a few hundred feet along the backside of the acreage.

“Where is he?” I knew Ingram was out here. Despite my earlier curses, I hoped he wasn’t in bad shape, but the riderless horse didn’t bode well.

He trotted along the ridge and dipped down into another ravine, his pace slowing as he approached the bottom. A groan met my ears as Slingshot skidded to a stop.

I trained my flashlight along the scrub and found Ingram lying on his back, one hand rubbing down his face as he tried to sit up. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Get that fucking light out of my face.”

“Nice to see you too, Ingram.” I dismounted and walked over to him. “How bad are you hurt?”

“I’ll be fine.” He sat up and shot a hard look at Slingshot. “You just run off at the first sign of trouble?”

“He came to find help. You should be thanking him.”

His gaze slid over to me, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re ‘help’, huh?” He grabbed his knee and winced.

I focused the beam of the flashlight on his leg and knelt down next to him. “Are you going to tell me what happened or are you going to keep being a grumpy ass?” A touch of cold landed on the back of my neck. Snowflakes appeared in the beam of the flashlight.

“Grumpy ass?” His voice was the same growl I remembered from ten years ago—low and scratchy like a patch of tumbleweed.

“If the shoe fits.” It did.

He continued grumbling and winced when he shifted his leg. “Rattlesnake spooked Slingshot. I killed it, but got thrown in the process.”

I ran my hand along his knee, his jeans ripped from the fall from his horse.

He groaned again. “It’s fine. Leave it.”

Stubborn ass. “If it’s fine, then get up and get off my property.” I stood and crossed my arms. “What are you doing over here anyway? Looking for some cattle?”

A scowl that could melt rock crossed his face. “There you go accusing me again with that smart mouth.”

“I’m not the one trespassing.” Did I truly suspect that he was responsible for the missing cattle? No. Did I enjoy riling him up about it? Definitely.

“I come over here to do the right thing, the neighborly thing, and this is what I get.” He struggled up until he was balanced on his right knee. “You’re right. I should’ve stayed on my property instead of coming over here to warn you about the rustlers.”

“Rustlers?” As if he didn’t already have my attention, that word got it.

He leveled his gaze on me, the square lines of his shadowy jaw thrown into relief as the faint moonlight played across his face. “That’s the reason I’m over here.” He tried to put his left foot down and push himself up, but didn’t make it off the ground. “Shit.”

I sighed and leaned down to grab his arm and help him up.

“I don’t need your help, woman.” His voice dropped lower, and his thick bicep flexed under my palms.

I’d never been this close to him, except perhaps the one time in the co-op when I teased him. Rugged, handsome, but disagreeable as all hell. There was a reason he lived alone. But none of that stopped the slight rev in my heartbeat as I strengthened my grip on his arm and helped him up.

“I told you I’m fine.” He tried to take a step, but faltered.

I slung his arm over my shoulders and shored him up. He smelled like leather and hay and a hard day’s work.

“Can you ride?” I whistled Slingshot over.

“Of course I can ride.” The gruffness increased, but I suspected it was just a way to hide the pain. “I was riding before you were born.”

“I started riding at three. And I can guarantee you I’m a better rider than you are.”

“You won a few barrel races when you were fifteen. That doesn’t make you a better rider.”

“No?” I eased him over to Slingshot’s side. “How many barrel races have you won?”

He shot me a sideways glance and, instead of answering, heaved himself onto Slingshot’s back. His hand shot out, though he didn’t look at me, and I grabbed it and climbed up behind him.

“None. That’s what I thought.” My hips pressed against him thanks to the curve of the saddle. I clicked on the radio. “Julia?”

Her voice crackled back. “What’s going on out there?”

“Ingram fell off his horse.”

He shook his head and a litany of profanity rolled from his tongue as I grinned and depressed the radio button again. “I’m bringing him back. He’s got an injured knee, so lay out the first aid kit in my living room and, if you don’t mind, stoke the fire for us.”

“You got it, boss.”

The snow had begun in earnest, fat flakes drifting to the ground and creating a dusty white on top of the brown earth. Before long, the snow would be cold, deep, and dangerous. He turned the horse toward his property.

“Hey, we’re going to my place.” I wrapped my arms loosely around his waist.

“No. I’m going to my place, and I’ll drive you home after.”

Has there ever been such a stubborn man? “No. We’re going to my place so I can see to that leg of yours and then I’ll drive you and Slingshot home.”

“I’d rather just ride home.”

“Ingram, if you don’t turn Slingshot around and ride to my homestead, there’s a very good chance I will shove you off this horse and leave you out here.”

He snorted. “Not in your wildest daydream, darlin’.”

I reached down and slapped his bad knee.

“Ow!” He hissed out a breath. “Jesus, woman!”

“Don’t call me darling. Now let’s go.”

He complained for a straight ten seconds before turning the horse around and heading up the ravine toward my homestead.

Slingshot handled the terrain well, but the snow was coming down hard and fast. I snuggled in closer to Ingram’s back so the flakes wouldn’t fall between us. Our hats and coats kept us pretty dry, though my hands began to tingle from the cold halfway home. I stretched out my fingers and balled them into fists a few times to get the blood flowing. Ingram noticed, because he grabbed my hands and shoved them inside his coat with another grumble.

I spread my fingers along his warm abs, the flannel of his shirt soft beneath my fingertips. “Thanks.”

He didn’t respond, just spurred Slingshot to walk a little faster through the sagebrush.

With very little moonlight and heavy snow, we were already approaching whiteout conditions. I didn’t realize we were so close to the house until the fence appeared through the haze of white.

“Left.” I pulled my hand from the warmth of his jacket and pointed toward the nearest opening in the fence.

He took the direction and walked Slingshot into the yard and up to the porch.

Julia opened the front door and walked down to us. “Ingram, what a pleasure as always.”

He mirrored her sarcastic tone. “Good to see you again, Julia.”

“Can you get Slingshot set up in the barn?” I slid off his back and down to the ground, immediately missing Ingram’s body heat. “He’s been a real good boy, so toss some apples his way while you’re at it.”

“No problem.” Julia rubbed his nose.

Ingram struggled to get out of the saddle, but when I reached up to help, he pushed my hands away. He landed on his right leg with a wince and almost went down, but I grabbed around his middle and supported him.

“Help me get him in the house first, please.” I draped his left arm over my shoulder while Julia got his right.

We walked him up the stairs as he let out another colorful string of curses that would’ve made my father proud. The ornaments on my small Christmas tree jingled as we struggled past with Ingram between us. Tanya let out a few low barks from her seat next to the fire, but she didn’t make any effort to investigate further. Since she’d first belonged to my father, she’d known Ingram for quite some time.

Once Ingram was settled on the couch in front of the fire, Julia asked if we needed anything else before she took care of Slingshot.

“I don’t know. Would you happen to have a gag? Maybe you could bring me a muzzle for him?” I glanced over my shoulder and caught Ingram’s withering gaze.

Julia laughed. “Good luck with all that. Just let me know if you need anything else.”

“We’ll be fine. Go hunker down in the cabin for the night. It’s going to be a cold one.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Icy wind swirled inside when she opened the door, but dissipated once it was closed tight again.

I turned to Ingram and peeled off my jacket. “Let’s assess the damage.”

His gaze raked my body, and an unexpected thrill shot through me. I already knew that Ingram was a handsome man, but in the low light of the fire and with a little bit more than a 5 o’clock shadow on his jaw, he was a rugged stunner. Especially when he looked at me like that, his eyes slightly hooded and his attention fixed on every curve I had to offer.

He cleared his throat and met my eyes. “You got any whiskey?”

Chapter 3

Ingram

She knelt in front of me as I tossed back a whiskey and reached for the bottle. Snow—the kind that blanketed the landscape until you couldn’t tell which way was up—fell in a torrent. Her Christmas tree twinkled, the colored lights and home-made ornaments giving the old house a bit of holiday character.

I tossed my hat on the back of the sofa. “Your pop never had a tree once you left.”

She pulled my boot off and tried to roll up my pant leg to get a look at my knee. “I know.”

“He missed you something terrible.” I drank from the bottle. “When you stopped visiting.”

“I know.” Her tone thinned, like wire being pulled taut. “You’re going to have to take these off. The damn things don’t have any give.” She sat on the rough-carved coffee table and pointed at my jeans.

“Ladies usually ask nicely.” I grinned.

She rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself.”

I didn’t miss the color rising in her cheeks. She was twenty-five or so, if I had my math right. Beautiful, I couldn’t deny. Her long red hair fell around her shoulders and framed her face, her blue eyes sparkling in the low light. How her grizzled father ever created such a lovely creature was beyond me, and I had to assume Molly got her genes from her mother.

“Are you going to take them off or what?” She crossed her arms and pinned me with a glare.

Demanding she put Slingshot in a trailer and give us a ride back to my place seemed like a good plan, but the ache in my knee told me I wasn’t going anywhere—not on my own, anyway. “Since you asked so nicely.” I leaned forward and set the bottle down next to her.

Her breath hitched as I got close. I moved away. The last thing I needed was a sassy firecracker in my life, even if parts south woke from hibernation and reacted with outright interest. Which was a problem, given the fact that I’d just agreed to take my pants off. Shit.

I cleared my throat and glanced at her face again. The bright blue and yellow kerchief in her shirt pocket pulled out the deep sapphire color of her eyes. Damn, she was a looker.

“You shy?” she challenged, her little chin tilting up as she met my gaze.

Not a bit. “Maybe. You got a problem with that?”

She rose and walked to the Christmas tree, her back to me. “Get on with it. Let me know when you’re ready.”

I’d never be ready for a woman like Molly, that was for sure. I stared at her round ass, the curve of her hips, the way her jeans molded to her like a second skin. My cock kicked it up a notch, pushing at my zipper. I looked away, forcing myself to calm the fuck down. She’d accused me of being a rustler, for Christ’s sake. Not to mention what she’d pulled on Pop. That last thought was like a bucket of ice water. Molly and I weren’t friends. We were barely neighbors. I intended to keep it that way.

I stood, balancing on my good leg, and unbuckled my belt. Tanya, Pop’s old dog, barely gave me a glance from her spot by the fire. We went way back. Once my jeans were draped over the couch arm next to me, I sat and casually made sure my flannel shirt covered my crotch.

“I’m good.”

She turned around and kept her eyes on my knee as she sat on the floor in front of me.

I willed my mind to keep the dirty thoughts at bay. It was difficult, but Molly helped out when she dabbed at the blood on my knee with some alcohol. Fuck, that burned.

“The cut isn’t so bad.” She cleaned it gingerly, then placed one hand behind my calf and pulled forward. “But I think the worst damage is the sort I can’t see.”

I groaned as the hurt shot through me and took another swig from the bottle.

“ACL seems fine. Nothing feels broken.” She pressed along my kneecap. “I think it’s a deep bruise and a strain.”

“You go to medical school and nobody told me?”

She frowned, a slight wrinkle forming in her smooth forehead. “No. But I’ve been around enough idiot ranch hands to know when they need a trip to the ER.”

I sat forward and glared at her. “I’m not an idiot ranch hand.”

“Bumbling around on someone else’s property at nightfall before a big storm? That all sounds like some amateur ranch hand nonsense right there.”

Goddamn her. Why did she always have to push my buttons? “I was on your property for one reason only.” I grabbed my jeans and dug in the pocket until my fingers hit cold, gritty metal. Handing the lighter to her, I said, “I found that at a spot where someone had torn down the fence between our properties. Plenty of tracks through there, too. I suspect both of us will find we’re missing a few head of cattle.”

She turned the lighter over in her palm, her eyes fixing on the initials carved into the side. “The Piper boys?”

I nodded. The initials—TP—could only belong to one son of a bitch, Trey Piper. His family owned a few thousand acres further down the mountain, but they made most of their money from illegal gambling, whoring, and rustling. They were rough people, not the sort you’d want to fuck with. Lucky for me, I was pretty rough myself, so I’d have no problem fucking them up for taking what was mine.

She sat back, her blue eyes clear as a summer sky. “I want to get one thing straight.”

“What’s that?” The way she looked at me had warmth erupting in my chest. It was probably just the liquor. Had to be.

“I never actually believed you’d been rustling.”

“Sure seemed like it. Blowing smoke up my ass now that I’ve brought you evidence that someone else did it isn’t a good look on you.”

“I’m not blowing smoke.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, reminding me of how she did the same thing when she was a teenager and was too shy to say much. “I was only trying to draw you out a little, is all.”

What the hell kind of nonsense was she talking about? “Draw me out?”

She cocked her head. “I think we both know that you’ve been avoiding me and giving me the cold shoulder ever since I came back here. I don’t know why. But I do want us to be friends. We’re neighbors, after all. Pop would have wanted—”

I held up my hand. “Let me stop you right there. You don’t get to tell me what your pop would have wanted.”

She flinched as if I’d struck her.

I should have cut the theatrics, but I couldn’t. Not when she was looking at me with those angel eyes when I knew that inside, she wasn’t an angel at all. No, she was a selfish brat. Nothing more. “I was here with him when he was sick, when he couldn’t get out of bed, when he was dying. You weren’t. So, you don’t get to tell me that we’re going to be friends, and you sure as hell don’t get to tell me what Pop would have wanted.”

To her credit, she didn’t turn tail and run. But all the color drained from her face, and she turned to the first aid kit, her hands trembling as they searched around in the compartments.

My ire subsided as I watched her, and a different emotion rose in its place. Shame. I shouldn’t have spoken to her like that. Fuck. The pain and the whiskey had brought out the worst in me. And, what was more off-putting than anything else, she didn’t fight me. Just took her licks and moved on.

I was an asshole. Maybe she was an ungrateful brat, but it wasn’t my place to set her straight. “Look, I’m sorr—”

“I-I’ll wrap it up, and you’ll need to stay off it for a little while.” She pulled out a few pills and handed them to me, but didn’t meet my gaze. “Take those for the pain. I’ll fetch some ice.” She hurried away, and I thought I saw the hint of tears in her bright eyes.

Maybe it was a good thing. She didn’t need to get tangled up with a sour bastard like me. I finished the whiskey and lay my head back on the familiar couch while trying not to think of the pain I’d seen in her eyes.

Chapter 4

Molly

I cracked the ice trays, twisting them until the cubes fell into a bowl I’d placed on the worn Formica counter. Two tears escaped and plopped into the bowl, freezing right along with the cubes. Ingram’s words were a dagger, one still lodged between my ribs. But he was right. I hadn’t been there for Pop.

Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I forced the tears away. It was too late to cry about it. Pop was gone. And it didn’t matter that he’d told me so many times not to come home, not to see him deteriorate. He didn’t want me to remember him that way, especially when I’d had to watch Mom fade away right before my eyes when I was a child. All his words made sense, his reasoning sound, but I should have been here.

I sighed and grabbed a Ziploc bag, then dumped the ice inside. Once I’d managed to pull myself together, I strode back into the living room and sat in front of Ingram.

He was on the phone, talking low. “Keep an eye out for trouble. The Piper crew is at it again. Pretty sure they’re the ones who’ve been stealing cattle. I’ll be back soon. Hold it down till then.” After a few more terse words, he dropped the receiver on the cradle and hop-walked back to the couch, each step ripping a groan from him.

“Everything okay at your place?”

“Zane said we’re good. The place is locked down tight. Livestock protected.” He watched me with a thoughtful expression as I unfurled the Ace bandage and began wrapping his knee.

“He’s a good hand.”

“I’ve had some luck with him, for sure. Takes direction well.”

Once the knee was covered, I pinned it closed and pointed to the sofa. “Go ahead and lie down. I’ll put the ice on top once you’re settled.”

“I need to get going.” He reached for his jeans.

“You can’t walk.” I glanced out the window. “The snow isn’t letting up. The roads are already icy as all hell. And we have some business to discuss.”

“Business?”

“The Pipers.” I’d had run-ins with them before, but nothing to this scale. Trey had tried to chat me up at the co-op right when I’d returned home. He’d wanted to buy my land. My refusal hadn’t sat well with him, especially considering his proposal also included that he and I spend some “quality time” together. Handsome, and blond like all the other Piper men, he wasn’t used to getting turned down on the business or personal fronts. He just hadn’t met me yet.

Ingram’s gaze darkened. “I intend to have words as soon as I can get over there.”

“What about the sheriff?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Sheriff Crow is in their pocket. They keep him well paid to look the other way as they ride roughshod over the ranchers in the county.”

“Great. Come on, lie down.” I lifted his good leg and swung it over to the couch.

With a grimace, he brought the bad leg up as well, then settled down into the cushions. “I need to get back to my place.”

“You said Zane had the place locked down.” I placed the ice on his knee, then spread a red and white crocheted throw over him.

“He does.”

“Then why are you in such a rush to get back?”

He put a hand behind his head and stared at me as I tucked the throw around him. “I don’t belong here. Just like you don’t belong out at my place.”

“You’ve been out here plenty of times. I don’t see why that has to change just because I’m in charge now.” I stood and walked to the fire, adding a thick log to keep it burning well into the wee hours. His words about my father circled back around, catching me like a boomerang. I swallowed thickly and rose as the flames licked along the underside of the fresh fuel.

“I don’t want you to run off the road on your way back. So I’ll leave at first light.” He sighed, as if that was a great concession on his part.

I wanted to argue, to inform him that I could drive just fine, thank you very much, but I didn’t have the energy for it. Thoughts of Pop circled me like a ghost, draining me in the way that only guilt could.

“Suit yourself.” I walked to the door and finally got around to kicking off my boots. I stacked them next to his on a small rug, doing my best to keep the outdoors from marring the rough wood floors any more than necessary.

“Can I at least apologize for what I said before?” His voice wasn’t the harsh bark I’d come to expect. It was a smooth caress, one that had me returning to him and sitting in a threadbare side chair.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, a few strands of gray appearing at his temples. “I don’t know what happened between you and Pop, okay? And it’s really none of my business.” He paused and seemed to chew on his next words. “I didn’t have any right to say that to you. So, I’m sorry about that.”

I digested his apology, one that I didn’t deserve and certainly never saw coming. Silence fell between us, the uncomfortable sort that smothered.

Thoughts of Pop rushed through my mind, and I had to break the tension or I’d cry again. “How was he?” I tucked my feet up under me, trying to fill the smallest space as I asked the question that had haunted me for months. “At the end, how was he?”

He blew out a breath and tilted his head back. “Depends. When he had a few months left, he was all there.” He tapped his forehead. “Still whip smart and with a tongue just as sharp as yours. But when his time grew shorter, he sort of receded into himself. Didn’t want visitors. Didn’t want anyone to see him in the wheelchair or get a glimpse of all the meds he was on.”

I knew the last part to be true. I’d done everything I could to convince him that I should come home and take care of him. But Pop wouldn’t have it. He told me that if I came to his door, he wouldn’t let me in. God, that had hurt. But Pop wasn’t one to mince words. He said it. He meant it.

“Stay in school. Get that master’s degree. I’m proud of you, Molly. So proud. Your mother is looking down on you right now, smiling big just like she used to.” He fell into a coughing fit, and I gripped the phone tighter.

“Pop?”

A few more deep coughs, ones that spelled trouble, then he returned to the phone. “I mean it, now. Don’t be bothering to come out here. I’ve got Ingram on my case half the time, and the other half I’m asleep thanks to these goddamn pills. You aren’t missing anything.”

“I still think I should be there—”

“No!” His refusal cracked like a whip. “You have enough bad memories from when Lurleen passed. I won’t have you adding those same sort of memories of me. I love you. And I need you to respect my wishes and stay away. Can you do that for me, squirrel?”

Squirrel. He hadn’t called me that since I was twelve years old. When I was a kid, I had a habit of climbing any tree I could get my hands on. Sometimes Pop would come outside looking for me, and I’d be twenty feet in the air and trying to go higher. He’d started calling me his little squirrel.

I didn’t want to agree.

“Please, squirrel. Please?” His voice cracked.

“All right.” I relented. “I won’t come.”

“Thank you.” His sigh whistled through the phone. “Thank you. Now get on back to your studies. I’m already nodding off. Damn pills.”

“Okay, Pop. I love you.”

“Love you too, Molly.”

“Molly?” Ingram had sat up and leaned over, the rough pad of his thumb wiping a tear from my cheek.

“Sorry.” I rubbed my sleeve across my face. “Just thinking about one of the last times I talked to Pop.”

He moved and sat on the coffee table, wincing only slightly as he propped his bad leg on the sofa.

“Don’t.” I motioned toward his knee. “You’ll hurt it more.”

“I can’t feel it. Thanks to whatever pills you gave me and the whiskey.” His lips tipped up at the corners, and I hadn’t realized what a great smile he had.

“Why do you never smile?” The question popped out before I had a chance to think about it.

He shrugged. “I smile.”

“When?”

He scratched his jaw as the fire crackled and Tanya snored lightly. “Well, let’s see here. Maybe when I birth a calf? I feel like I smile then.” His words eased away the tension that had threatened to consume me.

“Really?” I could imagine him helping out with a birth, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his big, strong hands ready to pull if the calf was struggling.

“Sure.”

I turned sly. “Anything else make you smile?”

He held my gaze, though his eyes had a slightly glassy quality—the alcohol and pain pills a potent mix. “Maybe one thing.”

A thrill shot through me at the innuendo in those three little words. For all his gruffness, Ingram had already made inroads to my heart by looking after my father. Pop told me all the things Ingram helped with; it was one of Pop’s arguing points when I’d tried to return home. “Ingram’s taking care of me, squirrel, I promise.”

It was one of the reasons I didn’t mind Ingram’s bluster and his ornery behavior. He’d been there for Pop when I couldn’t. He had a big heart hidden beneath his hard shell. And it didn’t hurt that he looked like a cowboy on the cover of a romance novel.

I pressed my thighs together and shifted in my seat. Maybe I shouldn’t have added another log to the fire; it was getting hot in here. Hotter for every second he looked at me with that direct gaze, his thoughts simmering just beneath his surface.

“You should, um… You should get some rest.” I scooted forward, about to stand, but he put his hands on either arm of my chair, caging me in.

“Just tell me one thing.”

My breath hitched, and I wondered if he could hear the tumultuous beat of my heart.

“Okay.” My voice was tentative, my mind darting from one possible question to the next. What did he want to know?

“Why didn’t you come see Pop?”

Everything inside me chilled, and I shifted away from him.

His jaw clenched and he started to reach out, then pulled his hand back. “I just need to know, is all. Pop never told me. No matter how many times I asked, he said I needed to mind my own business and quit worrying about what you were doing.”

“Were you?”

“What?” He tilted his head to the side slightly, and I got the feeling he knew exactly what I was asking.

“Worried about what I was doing?”

He put some distance between us this time, straightening his back and peering at me with his dark eyes. “I wanted to know why you never came home.” He stopped, seemingly grappling with whatever words rattled around in his mind. “I started to wonder if something had gone bad between you and Pop. We both know he had a temper, and—”

“Oh, no.” I shook my head vehemently. “It was nothing like that. Pop was always good to me, especially after Mom passed. He used to come visit me at college every few months. At least, he did until he got sick. After that, I wanted to come back.”

His eyes widened. “Why didn’t you?”

“Pop told me not to.” My words came in a rush. “I begged him to let me come back here, but he didn’t want me to see him suffer. He was adamant that I stayed away. And I was foolish and agreed.” The hole Pop had left in my heart was still raw, angry, even though he’d been gone for six months.

A wrinkle formed between his eyebrows, then cleared as he digested what I’d said.

My breath caught on a sob, but I kept going. “Every time we talked, I promised I wouldn’t come to see him. He begged me to stay away.” The tears had returned. “And I agreed, because he was so weak, and I didn’t want to upset him. But every day I called, I tried to get him to change his mind. He wouldn’t. Not even at the end. Not even when he knew it was the last days. He begged me not to come because he wanted only happy memories for me. Especially after Mom.” I ran out of breath as Ingram clutched my suddenly-cold hands in his warm ones.

“I should have come,” the words left my lips on a whisper.

Chapter 5

Ingram

She could have told me she’d joined the circuit as a rodeo clown, and I’d have been less surprised. I thought that she was away at college having the time of her life and leaving her old man to suffer. But, given how stubborn he was, I should have guessed he’d warned her away. Anytime I’d asked him about it, he told me to mind my own goddamn business and popped me with his cane.

“Shit.” It was the only word I could form, especially given the whiskey and painkiller cocktail swirling around in my gut.

She shook her head, a tear slipping onto her lower lashes. “I should get to bed.” Scooting her chair back and pulling her hands from mine, she stood. “You need to rest. I’ll check on the knee in the morning.”

“Wait, Molly—”

“Just holler if you need anything.” Her gaze traveled everywhere but to my face. “The fire should keep you warm, and I can grab an extra blanket just in case.”

“Molly.” I gentled my voice, using the same tone I would with a skittish foal. “Please sit. Just for a little while.”

She cleared her throat. “Why? So you can throw Pop in my face some more?” The words should have been delivered in anger, but instead, a sadness resonated in her voice.

Fuck, I was an even bigger prick than I thought. I reached out toward her. “Please?”

She eyed my hand like it was a venomous snake.

“I’m done being an asshole…” I smirked. “Well, on this topic, anyway.”

That last little addition caused a crack in her façade, the slight hint of a twitch in her lips telling me my tiny attempt at charm was working.

“And, hey, if it makes you feel better, I’ll let you smack my knee?” I pointed to it and gave her what I hoped was an engaging smile.

She glanced at the stairs, hesitation in the way her hands tangled together in front of her. Finally, after a few tense moments, she met my gaze and re-took her seat in the chair. “I may take you up on that later.”

“I won’t blame you, not even a little.” I lay back down on the couch, giving her some space.

She tucked her feet next to her and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. A defensive position. One that I’d put her in.

“What did you study in school?” I had to start somewhere.

She raised an eyebrow. “Theater, mostly.”

“That’s … Um. Interesting?”

A laugh rolled from her, but she didn’t meet me gaze. “You can say that it was a waste of time. I won’t get mad.”

“Not at all.” I’d barely made it through high school, so I didn’t have any room to talk. “Seems like maybe that was fun? You star in some plays or something?”

“Not quite. I was more of a scenery painter, made costumes, and worked behind the scenes. Sometimes, I’d play a background part. Like one of the sea creatures in Pirates of Penzance or a random Montague in Romeo and Juliet.”

“That’s a waste.” I said the obvious. “You should have been front and center.”

She laughed. “I’m too clumsy, and when the spotlight shines on me, I forget how to talk. So, no, I was happiest when I made the magic happen with wardrobe and props, not when I was performing the spells myself.”

“Still a damn shame. Pretty girl like you.”

She cocked her head to the side. “I may have had a momentary lapse in consciousness, but I could have sworn you just complimented me.”

Now I was the one looking at the Christmas tree or the ceiling instead of at her. I’d always thought she was a cute kid. But ever since she’d returned to the ranch, a full-grown woman, I’d had plenty of not-so-innocent thoughts about her. They seemed to multiply every time she sassed me. But I refused to let myself think of her that way, especially when I’d been under the impression she’d ditched Pop right when he needed her. But I’d been wrong. Not the first time.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I added.

“I’ll try not to.” I could hear the smile in her voice, and it warmed me almost as much as the whiskey.

“The ranch is looking good.”

“Thanks. We slapped a new coat of paint on the house, revamped the wind breaks, and Julia was trying to ride the fences at least every other day. But she hurt her leg last week. Seems to be a common thing around here.”

“She get bucked off a horse, too?”

She snorted. “If she did, she’d never admit it. We were working in the barn, spreading hay. She went up to the loft, came back down and hopped the last few rungs.” She seemed to wince at the memory. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“Hope she’s going to be okay.”

“She will. I just need her to stay off it as much as possible. Without her, I wouldn’t be able to run the ranch. There’s just too much, and so many things that Pop never told me.” Worry crept into her voice, the kind that kept you awake at night.

“Look, you need anything, have any questions, just ask me. What Pop didn’t teach you, I can guarantee you that he taught me. He ran me ragged those first few years around here.”

“I remember.” She laughed. “You’d show up for supper covered in dirt, wash your hands, bow your head for grace, then eat every last thing on your plate. Wouldn’t even say a word until your stomach was full, and even then it was a series of yes or no responses to Pop.”

“I’m a simple man.” I shrugged and my eyes drifted closed.

“I don’t think that’s true. Not at all.” She tucked me in again, securing the blanket along my warm sides and leaving it loose over my cold knee.

“Molly.” I opened my eyes, catching a close view of her sweet face as she leaned over me.

“Yeah?” She met my gaze, and despite the drugs, the booze, and the pain, I wanted her. More than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life. A feeling like that was too big for me to process, bigger than the sky at night or the wide expanse of earth this side of the Rockies.

She hovered over me, her lips slightly parted, her button-up shirt gaping open a little at the top, giving me a view of the white bra beneath. My hands itched to grab her and pull her down to me, to see if she tasted like the slight hint of strawberries that flavored the air when she was nearby. I struggled to stay still when she glanced at my lips, her eyelashes fluttering.

I cleared my throat. “Don’t worry about the rustlers. I’ll handle them.”

“Oh.” She backed away and stood upright, the moment gone like the snap of a rubber band. “We can discuss it tomorrow. Weatherman says we’re in for a thaw around noon before we have to hunker down again for another snow in the next day or two. Maybe we can take a take a trip out to see the Pipers.”

That wasn’t a good idea, not at all. I didn’t want her anywhere near that nest of vipers, but my eyelids weighed more than my prize bull, and I didn’t have the steam to argue.

“Goodnight, Ingram.” Her silken voice pushed me into a heavy sleep, one filled with dreams of her in a strawberry field.

* * *

Bacon. I cracked my eyes open, the living room still dark, but I couldn’t miss the delectable scent of bacon on the air and the sizzle of a pan. One glance at the window told me the sun was about fifteen minutes away from peeking over the edge of the distant mountains.

“How do you like your eggs?” Molly called from the kitchen.

“Three over medium.” I sat up and inspected my knee. It ached with a dull, steady thud that matched my heartbeat.

The ice had long since melted, and I’d set the bag on the coffee table in the middle of the night. Unwrapping the bandage, I found a deep purple bruise along the top of my knee and down the sides. I prodded gently, searching for some sign as to how bad it was. But the ache seemed to be spread evenly, nothing giving way under my touch. The bandage was still clean, the cut sealing up beneath the white gauze.

Satisfied that I hadn’t done any permanent damage, I swung my legs over the side of the couch and stood, my right leg taking the brunt of my weight. Blood rushed to my knee and the low throb turned into an acute stabbing sensation.

I took a breath, then another, until the pain subsided and I was able to pull on my jeans and limp my way to the phone on a side table. No cell towers in these parts meant we had to do everything the old-fashioned way; that or use a satellite phone. I dialed and waited a while till Zane picked up.

“How’s it looking over there?”

“Everything’s fine. Cattle stayed nice and warm. I brought Earl over to my place. He snored in front of the fire all night.”

“Better there than in your bed.” I smiled. My dog snored louder than most humans.

“How’s the leg?”

“Better.”

“How’s Molly?” His tone held too much mischief for my liking.

“What do you mean by that?”

He cleared his throat. “Just asking, boss. Nothing intended there.”

“She’s fine. Look, I have some business to attend to, but I’ll be back later. Just hold it down, all right?”

“You got it. Talk to you later.”

I hung up and continued down the hall to the bathroom. Molly hummed in the kitchen, the sound high and sweet. After cleaning up a bit—I hadn’t realized how much dirt I had smudged on my face from the fall—I half-hopped down the hall to the kitchen.

Molly’s back was turned, her jeans hugging her round ass as she scooped bacon from an iron skillet and flipped my eggs with ease. I sank down into the nearest chair and did my best not to groan with relief.

She shot a look over her shoulder. “I would have brought it to you.”

“I needed to get up.” I stretched. “That old couch has seen better days.”

“How’s the knee?” She placed the bacon and two mugs of coffee on the table before plating the eggs and sitting down across from me.

“Sore, but I’ll live.” I stared out the window behind her, the landscape brightening with each passing minute as the sun rose. Snow blanketed every bit of land, and the mountains in the distance seemed perhaps a little whiter than usual. The mercury wouldn’t rise above freezing till midday, most likely. Then the snow would melt a bit, the roads thawing enough for Molly to take me back to my place.

“Creamer or sugar?” She sipped her black coffee.

I snorted and took a big pull from my cup, the slight sting just what I needed to get me going for the day.

“All right then.” She piled some eggs on a piece of toast.

“Thanks for the food.” I dug in, happy to have a hot breakfast made by someone else.

“No problem. It gets kind of lonely in here. Julia stays out in her cabin, prizes her autonomy, likes having a spot of her own. And I don’t get visitors. You’re probably the first person besides Julia who’s been in the house since I moved back.”

Loneliness was a common malady in these parts. Large ranches sprawling out for miles and few family members to tend them. The younger breed wasn’t as interested in raising cattle, opting instead for college careers and jobs far from the sagebrush. I couldn’t blame them. If I’d been able to do anything else, I probably would have. But my father made me promise to run his ranch, to keep it in the family, and to stay true to my roots. I’d kept my promise, though sometimes thoughts of what could have been kept me awake at night. I didn’t want that for Molly. Then again, she seemed to have taken to the ranch life a lot easier than I did.

“Hey, what’s going on in that thick noggin of yours?” She reached across the table and rested her hand on my wrist.

“Sorry.” I met her gaze. “Just thinking about when I started to run my ranch. How similar things were for me. My dad dying and me the only one left who could keep it alive.”

She squeezed my wrist before returning to her breakfast. “I think about it sometimes, too. You started running your place when you were what, twenty?”

“Twenty-two.” Too young.

“Right. I never would have thought I’d be doing this, you know?”

“Do you regret coming back?”

She shook her head. “Not a bit.”

The certainty in her tone impressed me. This was a hard life, but she seemed to have chosen it with open arms.

We finished our breakfast in a comfortable silence, the sun bursting over the landscape in an explosion of sparkling white light.

She grabbed our empty plates and put them in the sink.

“I’ll wash.” I shoved up from the table.

“No. Rest your leg.” She wiped down the old white stove.

“Not a chance. If you cook, you can be damn certain I’ll clean. It’s only fair.” I limped over to the sink and got to work while trying to ignore her dropped jaw.

I may have been a roughneck cowboy, but I would never treat her like anything less than a lady.

Chapter 6

Molly

He stood at the window, his broad back blocking the view of the winter wonderland beyond the panes. “Julia’s already out and about. Looks like she’s heading over to the windbreaks.”

“That’s what I pay her for.” I pull on first one boot, then another.

“Where you going?” He sank into the side chair and put his foot up on the coffee table.

“I need to grab some more firewood from the lean-to, for starters, then head out to the barn and put out more hay where needed, refill the troughs, and check on everything.”

He put his right leg down like he was going to get up again.

“Don’t even think about it. Just rest. I’ve been running this ranch long enough to know how to do all this on my own. Not to mention, Julia’s a big help. So stay put.”

“I can get the firewood.” His gruff voice bristled with pride.

With my hat snugged on my head, I pulled open the door and shot him what I hoped was a hard look. “Keep your nice ass settled until I get back.” Did I just tell him he had a nice ass?

Apparently, I had, because he didn’t have a retort, just a ridiculously adorable surprised look that turned into a smoldering smile on his angular face as I closed the door and crunched into the snow on the porch.

My breath plumed out in front of me as the icy air slapped my cheeks. The snow dazzled, the clouds cleared for the moment, and the sun rained down on the crisp white landscape. The barn looked like something out of a postcard, the roof covered in a blanket of fluffy flakes. But I didn’t stop to take a photograph. I was more worried about the roof collapsing under the weight and the animals we’d left out in the snow with no protection other than some windbreaks.

I made quick work of bringing firewood and making a small stack next to the front door to take in later. After a difficult trudge to the barn, I muscled the door open, rolling it back to reveal the ranch’s top animals. Cows lowed and a few horses nickered in greeting. A sliver of daylight shone through the door at the opposite end of the barn. Odd. Julia wouldn’t have left the barn door cracked on such a cold night. I worked my way through the barn, setting out feed, adding water to the troughs, and making sure the animals weren’t suffering from the close confines. Julia and I would have to muck the stalls later. I wanted it all clean and ready for the next snowstorm. The first one was just a love tap, and the strange warm spell expected this afternoon would only prime the atmosphere for heavier snow. The next snow cover would last for weeks, especially with the temperature plunging into the negative digits.

When I reached the back of the barn, four of the stalls were empty, including the large specialty stall reserved for my bull, Nelly’s Bruiser. I stood, disbelief and anger warring inside me, and stared at the empty stalls. There was absolutely no way the animals could’ve gotten out on their own. I turned to the back barn door and pulled it the rest of the way open. No tracks, just snow as far as I could see.

But there was one thing amiss. The fence line that ran about 50 yards behind the barn had a break in it. One large enough to run livestock through. But there were no tracks. So, whoever had done this—and I knew it had to be the Pipers—had taken advantage of the storm and raided the barn, likely sometime when the snow began to fall.

I yanked my gloves off, folded them together, and threw them to the ground. “Fuck you!” I yelled at the top of my lungs to the empty snowscape. Without those animals, this ranch was as good as dead. There was no way I could afford another bull of the same quality as Nelly’s Bruiser.

The radio at my side hummed to life, and Julia’s voice crackled through. “Boss, we have a problem.”

“No shit. What’s going on out there?” I would tell her about the barn, but she’d take the hit to the gut just like I had, and I was still trying to process it. Julia loved this ranch just as much as I did.

“The windbreaks. Someone came out here and set several of them on fire. The rest have been hacked to pieces on the supports and pushed over.”

I swallowed my dread, and asked what needed to be asked. “The cattle?”

“They’re alive. Your idea of feeding them late kept their body heat higher, so the temperatures didn’t get them last night. But they won’t make it through another snow without the windbreaks.”

“Maybe we can rebuild some of them. We have two days before the snow.”

The radio was silent for far too long, Julia knowing the answer just as well as I did. “Boss, we don’t have the time for that, the manpower for that, and I suspect we don’t have the money for that either.”

She was right on all counts. I wish that I could turn to Pop and ask him what to do. He would know. He’d have a solution worked up in no time. But he wasn’t here, and I was at a loss.

“We, ah, have some trouble in the barn, too. But I’ll tell you when you get back. There’s nothing you can do out there now. The weather is warming, so the stock will be fine for the time being. Head to the house.”

“What about the barn?” The sharp note of alarm in her voice cut me to the bone.

“Just come back.” I clicked off the radio, not ready to give voice to how bad the situation truly was. I finished up in the barn, moving like a zombie as my brain did all sorts of acrobatics to try and find a remedy for the situation. Nothing sparked to life.

When I returned to the house, all the firewood was gone from the front porch.

I walked in, kicked off my boots, and hung my coat and hat by the door.

Ingram looked up from his spot on the couch. “What the hell happened?” He focused on my face, his eyes widening in alarm.

“Oh, nothing. Just my prize bull is gone, several heifers with him, and someone trashed all of my windbreaks overnight.” I sank down into the side chair and cradled my head in my hands.

“Fucking Pipers,” he snarled. A furious Ingram was a sight to behold, a fire in his eyes to match the one roaring in his belly. But there was nothing to be done.

I couldn’t rebuild windbreaks by promising to pay with a wink and a smile. And I couldn’t hope to have a calving season without a bull. “Trey told me he wanted to buy this land. He said he’d get it one way or another. I suppose this is the way he chose.”

“Fuck this shit.” He labored to his feet and limped to the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to head over to the Pipers and get your animals back.” He snatched his hat off the peg and pressed it on his dark head.

He was right. I couldn’t sit here and fall into despair. That’s not what Pop would’ve done. Pop would’ve marched right over to the Pipers and demanded they return what they stole. The ranch had been by no means easy, but this would be my first real test. Did I truly belong out here? Did I have the metal to make my home on the range and run a successful operation? This was the way to find out.

I stood and walked to the hall closet. “I’m coming with you.”

Ingram shook his head. “These are dangerous people, Molly. I’d rather you let me handle it.”

“This is my ranch. I won’t let the Pipers take it, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone else fight my battles for me.” I grabbed Pop’s double-barreled shotgun from the top of the closet along with a box of shells.

“Hang on.” He hurried down the hall and picked up the phone while I dressed at the door. He hung up and joined me.

“Who was that?”

“Checking in with Zane. Arranging some backup if we need it.”

When I met his eyes, a slight quirk turned the corner of his lips.

Suddenly self-conscious, I asked, “What?”

“You just look badass is all. Pop would be proud.”

Warmth poured through me at his praise, but I tried to play it off by opening the door. “Let’s hope we can get to the Pipers’ property.”

Water dripped steadily from the eaves, and a wide chunk of snow fell from the barn roof with a whoosh and a thunk. The sun was doing its work, melting off the snow as the temperature warmed up.

Julia appeared, laboring toward us in snowshoes and making good time despite her leg injury. “Where are you headed?” she called from a distance.

“Going to see a man about some cattle.” I held the shotgun close to my leg and hoped she wouldn’t notice it. “We’ll be back in a bit. Keep an eye on things for me.”

“Like hell I will!” She picked up her pace, the limp getting more pronounced with each step.

“Ingram and I have this under control. I need you to stay here and make sure nothing else happens.” We walked down the steps and met her as she huffed her way to us.

Her eyes narrowed. “What happened in the barn?”

“Someone came in the night. Took the bull and some heifers.”

“No.” She shook her head, her eyes hard with denial. “No. I would’ve heard. I would’ve done something.”

“Did you take a painkiller for the knee at bedtime?” I kept my tone as gentle as possible.

Her face blanched, the tanned skin going almost translucent in the harsh daylight. “Oh my God. This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Ingram said before I could, and put a hand on her shoulder. “It was the Pipers. They’re after the ranch.”

“But I should have been on watch. It’s my job to keep this ranch going.” She turned to me, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Molly.”

I leaned the shotgun against Ingram, and he took it silently, then pulled Julia into my arms. “Don’t be sorry. We’re in this together. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you. It’s not your fault. And I know how you are, and that you’ll beat yourself up about this. But I promise you I don’t blame you and it’s not your fault.” I squeezed her for emphasis. Though I never admitted it out loud, mainly because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, Julia was the closest thing I had to a mom ever since my own mother had passed. She was the beating heart of this ranch. Ingram seemed to understand that too, because he patted her on the back and reassured Julia right along with me.

She sniffed and pulled back, her strength on display after the momentary tears. “What can I do to help?”

Chapter 7

Ingram

Molly drove carefully down the lane leading to her property. The roads had melted faster than the sagebrush, but it was still slow going.

She chewed on her lip, her brain clearly working at a high speed. “When we get there, I want to go in and talk them into handing my livestock over. Don’t turn it into a fight if it doesn’t have to be.”

“Then what’s the shotgun for?”

A hint of a smile played across her lips. “I hope that’s more for show, to let them know I’m dead serious. I don’t expect I’ll have to use it.”

“But if you do?”

“If they try to hurt either of us, I won’t hesitate.”

I nodded. The Pipers were a lawless bunch, and I was pretty certain they didn’t intend to hand the livestock over to Molly without a fight. I stole a glance at her, her red hair cascading from beneath her hat in fiery waves. Though I’d never been much for brawling—getting punched in the face hurts like hell—I knew I’d have no trouble whatsoever fighting for her.

Just being around her for the past day had made me rethink my plans for a lonely future at the Brady Ranch. I’d met plenty of women over the years, but never one that surprised me as much as Molly. She’d treated me well, even though I’d insulted her the first chance I had. Taken care of my knee, taken care of my horse, and managed to turn my head at the same time. Everything I’d thought about her had been wrong. And I couldn’t have been happier about it.

What she didn’t realize was that she had an even bigger problem on her hands than the Pipers. Me. When I decided I wanted something, I went all out until I had it. I would work harder, be smarter, and do whatever it took. As we bounced along the icy lane toward the Pipers’ house, my heart thawed right along with the road.

She turned to me on a straightaway. “Why do you have that look on your face?”

“What look?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Kind of like a goofy smile?”

I forced my face into its usual shape. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

Her eyebrows arched up, and she turned back to the road. “If you say so.”

“I’d prefer it if you let me go in first, have a chat with Trey.”

The hard line of her lips told me that wasn’t going to happen.

“It’s my ranch.” She braked around a curve, the back tires skidding across the ice before grabbing the asphalt beneath. “If I can’t defend it, I don’t deserve it.”

Her sass was entirely warranted in this case, and my respect for her grew even more. But I had to keep her safe. Walking into a hornet’s nest with a shotgun didn’t seem like the best way to do that.

I softened my voice. “Listen, I’ve known Trey from way back. Give me a chance to speak with him. Maybe sort this out without going both barrels right out of the gate.”

“I can talk with them just fine.”

I laughed as she spooked a deer grazing through the snow near the road. “You are like a stick of dynamite waiting to blow.”

“And you’re so level-headed?” she shot back.

Actually, I was, just not where she was concerned. She seemed to have a knack for getting a rise out of me—and in more ways than one.

“I can handle the Pipers.” I reached over and covered one of her hands on the wheel with mine.

She shot me a confused look, but her cheeks began to turn a deep pink to match the pink checks in today’s handkerchief that was tucked into her pocket. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get you to trust me.” I moved my fingers along the arm of her jacket and to the bare skin along her throat. “Do you?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Good. We should be able to get through this just fine, in that case.” I let her go as she steered us up a small ridge and then down toward the sprawling Piper ranch.

“They’ve been buying up so many properties out here. Maybe this is why.” She shook her head slightly. “Maybe they’ve been rustling their neighbors right out of business. That has to be it. Whoever broke into the barn last night and destroyed our windbreaks came in with a plan and enough men to get it done.”

I’d thought of that. “They have plenty of manpower. What are we going to do about your windbreaks?”

“We?” The hopeful note in her voice tugged at my heart.

“Yeah. We.” I’d known her for years, and resented her for a few more. But now we were on the same team. I wasn’t going to let her ranch fail. Not when I could do something to help.

“Well, I was thinking we have some hay bales in the far barn. But not enough, not nearly enough to replace the ones we lost. And then I thought we could hunker them down next to the barn, let that serve as a windbreak and scatter the hay bales around it as best we can. Problem with that is that the area there doesn’t have a fence that would keep them in place, isn’t set up to feed them, isn’t set up for anything, really.”

“What about my ranch?”

She slammed on the breaks and we slid forward, the truck stopping crooked, blocking both lanes, though no one else was out on the road in this weather. “Your ranch?”

“Sure.” I tried to keep my voice as nonchalant as possible. “We could herd them over tomorrow. Get them good and settled in advance of the storm—”

“Not 24 hours ago you told me you don’t belong at my ranch, and I don’t belong at yours. What has gotten into you?”

“It’s different now. All of it. I had the wrong idea—”

“About Pop.”

“Yeah, about that. I didn’t see it clearly. I should have known he’d told you not to come. But I guess I was just so, I don’t know the word for it…” I wanted to tell her how it felt to lose him, to watch him disappear more and more every day. But I couldn’t bear to hurt her, not again. “Unprepared for it when the end finally came. It was too much. I was already an unbearable ass before that—” A small smile played across her lips at that, so I barreled onward. “And when Pop died, I became doubly unbearable. And that’s the man you saw when you came back. I thought you’d been off having a great time while I was left here alone to deal with him.”

The smile disappeared and her eyes watered.

“No.” I cradled her face in my palms and scooted across the bench seat to sit next to her. “I don’t want any more tears from you. Not on my account.”

“But you were right. I should have been here.” The anguish in her tore me to bits. “I was a horrible daughter—”

“I was wrong, Molly. Wrong about all of it.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but I couldn’t bear to hear her berate herself any longer. I pressed my mouth to hers, stealing her breath as I tasted her, a delicate flavor that set fire to my veins. She froze for only a moment, then kissed me back, her mouth moving against mine as I tilted her head to the side and licked along the seam of her lips. The brims of our Stetsons warred, and I pushed mine up and out of the way.

Her hands clutched my sides, and I leaned forward, pinning her to the seat as I asked again, sweeping my tongue across her lips. She opened for me on a soft moan, and I stroked her tongue with mine. I ran one hand behind her neck, cupping her there as I used the other to grab her waist.

She gave the slightest whimper—the sexiest sound in recorded history—as I slanted my mouth over hers. Nothing had ever felt so good. Her taste washed over me, the slightest hint of strawberry mixed with coffee. She clutched harder at my sides, her breasts pressing against my chest. I wanted them in my hands, my mouth. In that moment, I wanted everything I’d thought I’d never have—a woman I loved, and just maybe, one that loved me back. All that in a single kiss that seared through my hardened heart and spurred it to beat again.

The truck began to roll, and I had to break the kiss and throw it in park before we went off the road and ended our vengeance mission in a snowdrift.

She stared at me with glassy eyes, then blinked a few times. “Oh, shit. I took my foot off the brake.”

“Forgot where you were?” I grinned. “I’m glad I have that sort of effect on you.”

She huffed but didn’t deny it, which made my ego—and other parts—swell up just a bit.

“I just, um.” She glanced at me. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

I moved closer, desperate for another taste.

Her pulse jumped, the vein at her throat fluttering wildly.

I went in for another kiss when a horn blew loud enough to make my ears ring.

Chapter 8

Molly

“Jeez!” I threw the truck into gear and moved to the correct lane as a four-wheel-drive roared past, the driver flipping us the finger. My heart was galloping, but not as much from the truck horn as from Ingram’s lips on mine. Stars had sparked in my vision, and I’d given myself over to that moment in his arms.

Had I lain awake last night thinking of what he’d feel like against me? Yes. Had I thought it would ever actually happen? No way.

“We better get going.” He didn’t move from my side, his warmth enveloping me as I crept down the long road to the Pipers’ place. “The road’s clearing up fast, but once night falls, it’ll get icy again. And we have a lot of work to do back at the ranch.”

He kept saying “we,” and each time I smiled.

“Now who has the goofy grin?” He slung his arm over my shoulders.

I wasn’t sure if I’d fallen into some Ingram Brady daydream—of the naughty variety—or if we’d almost made out in the middle of the road after a snow storm. He had me tied in knots, looking every which way to try and figure out what was going on between us. I was attracted to him, had been ever since I’d come back, but I didn’t realize the feeling was mutual. Sexual tension? Sure. But that kiss wasn’t about just him trying to get in my pants. I could feel it all over my body, tingles sizzling down to my toes. He was after more. Much more. And I didn’t know if I was ready for it.

I cleared my throat. “You are getting mighty fresh, Mr. Brady.”

“Not nearly fresh enough, Ms. Gale.” He pulled his hat lower on his head.

I eased around a bend, my brow crinkling with concentration. “I didn’t expect that. Not, like that. Not …”

“You didn’t expect I was such a good kisser?”

He was definitely a good kisser. But I wasn’t about to give him that little piece of satisfaction. “I didn’t expect you’d kiss me.”

“I think you should start expecting it.” His declaration lingered in the air between us, and my thighs grew hot.

I took another turn, only staying on the road because the sun was speeding up the melting process.

He squeezed my shoulder. “You’ve got it. We’re almost there.”

My mind spun, and I tried to square this Ingram with the ornery one that I’d come to expect. But I supposed they weren’t so far apart. Not really. When Ingram thought I’d mistreated Pop, he’d been defensive, angry even. And was that a black mark on him? No. I would always carry that guilt with me, always wish I’d come to see Pop.

“I don’t want to hear any more talk about you being anything less than a great daughter.”

Was he in my thoughts now, too? “What do you mean?”

“I know when you’re thinking about it. You go still. It sticks out, especially when you’re usually so full of energy. You burn bright, but you have a spot of darkness you can’t shake.”

“I should have come.” I’d thought that phrase so many times, kicked myself with it.

“No.” He shook his head resolutely. “You shouldn’t have. I didn’t tell you the worst of it. Not even close. And I won’t. Because Pop wanted you to remember him strong, able, and happy. And I can tell you without a doubt, that you made him proud. He loved you very much. You were brave to respect his wishes. So no more of that. Not a peep. If you want to feel guilty, I can give you other options. Like that time you told me off at the co-op and accused me of rustling. Feel bad about that, and pick a punishment.”

“What?” I spared a glance at him.

“You heard me. Pick a punishment.” His husky voice flirted along my skin, and my nipples tightened almost painfully. Leaning closer, he whispered, “Choose wisely.”

I gripped the wheel harder as a curious heat flicked through me. God, his words, so clean on the outside, but filthy just underneath. My thighs flexed, pressing together to stave off the tingling sensation between them. He leaned away, but his fingers stroked my shoulder, the movement trying to steal my attention from the road.

“So, what do you intend to do? Just go in there and talk to them nicely?”

“Something like that,” he hedged.

“You realize that won’t work, right?”

“I have a plan.”

“Care to share it?”

“No.”

Intolerable man. “Why not?”

“You won’t like it.”

“Great,” I deadpanned.

The wooden arch to the Piper property finally appeared, and I turned into their winding drive. The Piper homestead was the newest in the county, a large stone structure that stuck out in stark lines from the pastures and sage. Their drive had been cleared and salted, likely sometime the night before. Likely in time for them to drive my livestock on up to their barn.

I pulled into the circular driveway in front of the gray stone house, the wide windows staring down at us.

“Sit tight, please.” Ingram yanked his door open and jumped out before I could get a word in. He shot a look at me, his eyes imploring. I wanted to go in and have it out with the Piper assholes. After all, it was my ranch. But Pop had trusted Ingram. Maybe I should, too.

Shit. I released my hold on the door handle and sat back, crossing my arms as he rang the doorbell. After only a few seconds, the door opened, and he disappeared inside the stone monstrosity.

Chapter 9

Ingram

“Didn’t expect to see you, Ingram.” Perry Piper, the youngest of the bunch, smirked as he led me through their overdone foyer and into an office toward the back of the house. Untouched books lined the walls, and Trey lounged behind a thick mahogany desk, his face a mask of manners as he gestured toward a chair.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this little visit?” Trey’s slick voice oozed through the room. His spotless Stetson, pressed shirt, and ridiculously clean jeans gave the impression he was starring in a soap opera about cowboys. He wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it bit him in his perfectly starched ass.

“I think you know why I’m here.” I didn’t take the offered seat, and instead, leaned against the nearest bookshelf.

“Not a clue. Perhaps just a neighborly visit?”

“Return the livestock, and we won’t have a problem.”

“What livestock?” Perry edged around to stand behind his older brother. Barely twenty, he was already a nasty little punk with overgrown muscles thanks to his juicing habit.

“Cut the shit. You stole Molly Gale’s cattle last night, ruined her windbreaks, and no telling how many head you’ve stolen from both of us before that.”

Trey changed from amused to cold in the space of a second. “You need to watch your mouth. Accusations like that could lead to some unpleasantness.”

“I expect a lot of unpleasantness if that livestock doesn’t reappear. Today.” I held Trey’s glare, matching it with one of my own.

“I suggest you turn around and get the fuck off my property.” He stood and pointed at the door.

“Not without those animals.” I stood and squared my body to his, ready to fight if need be. There was no doubt in my mind they’d deny all my accusations, threaten me, and kick me off their property. But what they didn’t realize was that while they were focused on me, Zane would be going through their livestock, separating out what belonged to me and Molly, and herding them onto Len’s farm next door. I’d called Len earlier that morning and arranged it; he was just as tired of being pushed around by the Pipers as everyone else.

Trey scowled. “Perry, escort our friend out.”

The little shit cracked his knuckles and walked around the desk toward me.

“I ain’t leaving.” I kept my stance steady, but was ready to react.

“Yeah you are, motherfucker.” Perry brought up his fist and swung at me. Too slow.

I ducked back. “You don’t want to do this.”

“I sure as hell do.” He rushed forward, swinging wildly—too much muscle, not enough smarts.

I let his fist fly past then countered with a hard right to his jaw. My knuckles stung on impact, but he got the worst of it, a choked sound eking from his throat as he staggered to the side.

“Perry, get your shit together!” Trey’s yell seemed to reinvigorate Perry, because he came at me again, throwing a jab that caught me in the nose.

Fuck, that hurt. I blocked his next punch, then landed another on his cheek, my right knuckles on fire as the fleshy thunk reverberated through the room. But I’d only angered him, the roid rage taking over as he rushed me and we fell to the wood floor, him driving me down and onto my back.

I swung at his head again and again, but he had me pinned and started raining blows down on me. My hands came up, instinctively protecting myself. The tang of blood flowed across my tongue, my lip split and my nose busted. I took hit after hit until my forearms went numb. My defense was fading, and pretty soon he’d be taking free shots at my face.

“Get the fuck off him!” Molly’s voice cracked through the room. She stood in the doorway, her shotgun trained on Perry’s face.

Chapter 10

Molly

My hands shook as I aimed at Perry’s stupid face. He leaned back, and Ingram dropped his arms, his face already swelling from the punishment he’d just endured.

“This was your plan?” I couldn’t keep the edge of panic from my voice.

“Put that down, Molly.” Trey sidled closer.

I swung the barrels toward him. “Not a chance.”

He held his hands up. “I don’t know what all this is about, but I’m sure we can talk it out.”

“What this is all about?” I hitched the gun up so I could hold it in one hand as I dug in my pocket. “This.” I tossed the lighter to him. “Ingram found this at a fence break between our property. You’ve been rustling our cattle. And you destroyed my windbreaks last night!”

He caught the lighter and flipped it over in his hands. “This is mine.”

“No shit.” I hefted the shotgun back up, snugging it tight against my shoulder.

“I lost it a few weeks ago.” He pulled it closer and examined the initials. “My mom gave me this a few years back, only a few months before she died. I take it everywhere with me. I’ve been sick about losing it.”

“What?” Ingram sat up and shoved Perry off him. “That’s a load of bullshit.”

“No, it’s true.” Perry struggled to his feet. “We’ve turned this place inside out trying to find it.”

“So what are you saying?” Ingram rose and limped to my side, his warmth giving me the strength to keep the weapon trained on Trey.

“I’m saying whoever stole this from me planted it on your property to make it look like we’re the ones responsible for your missing livestock.” The note of truth rang in Trey’s slick voice, and my determination faltered a bit.

It still didn’t make sense, though. If not Trey, then who? “But you’ve been trying to get your hands on my ranch ever since I came back home.”

“Sure.” Trey was still inspecting the lighter. “I want your ranch. I won’t lie about it. But I don’t rustle cattle. Those rumors are just rumors.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What about the drugs and the women?”

He gave me a shrug, his slimy smile sliding back into place. “Not everything is rumors.”

“It wasn’t Trey.” Perry felt his nose, the swelling already starting. At least Ingram gave as good as he got.

I lowered the shotgun, though Ingram took it from me and kept it close.

“Look, I’ll tell you what.” Trey rubbed his jaw. “Go take a look at my animals. The barn is up behind the house about half a mile. Borrow a horse and check the pastures if you want. We’ve got the cattle in the sage near our windbreaks for the next storm. You won’t find a single head of yours over there. I may be a lot of things, but my dad would have tanned my hide if I tried to rustle other people’s livestock.”

“We have your word you won’t move to harm us?” Ingram stepped forward, staring Trey down.

“You have my word.” Trey stuck his hand out.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ingram took it and shook. Trey then offered me his hand. I shook, though when he held on too long, Ingram slapped his hand away with a gruff “knock it off, asshole.”

Trey laughed and returned to his seat. “Let me know when you find out who’s been rustling.” He gently placed the mangled lighter on his desk. “I’d like to have a few words with him.”

A chill shot down my spine, and I was certain the person who’d stolen Trey’s lighter was in for a world of hurt if Trey ever got his hands on him. I turned and hurried into the hallway. Ingram followed, though he never gave the Pipers his back, only turning to fall into step with me once we reached the front door.

“Let’s ride on up to the barn. Give it a look.”

“Agreed.” I climbed into the truck.

He scooted in next to me.

“Does it hurt?” I cranked the truck and stared at the blood on his lip.

“Not bad. Looks worse than it is.”

“That was a horrible plan, by the way.” I couldn’t resist scolding him.

“Turns out, you’re right. I wanted to distract the Pipers with an ass-whooping while Zane located your lost cattle, but if they’re not here, I just got my face turned into pulp for nothing.” He frowned, then winced.

“Damn.” I shook my head and sped up the cleared lane deeper into Piper territory. “But thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’d take another beating if it meant helping you out.”

If my heart wasn’t already mush, he made sure of it with those words. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He pointed to a modern silver barn rising in the distance, solar panels covering the top. “That’s ridiculous. Looks like a spaceship.”

“Probably costs as much as one, too.” I pulled up outside and cut the engine. “Where’s Zane?”

“Likely already come and gone if the animals aren’t here.” We hopped out of the truck and walked into the barn. State-of-the-art food and water systems, comfortable spaces for the animals, and well cared for animals met us as we entered. One glance told me my stock wasn’t here. Trey had been telling the truth.

“Want to check the pasture?” Ingram leaned over to inspect a timed feeder.

“No.” I sighed. “Despite him being a slimebucket, I think Trey is telling the truth.”

“Me too.” He pressed a button on the feeder and a rush of grain poured into a trough. The cows lowed and moved closer, ready for an unexpected feast. “Whoops.” He backed away from the apparatus as a fresh load of grain flowed from a pipe in the ceiling, refilling the chute in preparation for the next feed.

“Fancy.” I couldn’t deny the marvel that was the Piper ranch. But I preferred doing it the old-fashioned way. Checking on the animals, doing a hard day’s work—all of that was what a ranch meant to me. Not automation, no matter how convenient it was.

A nagging feeling ate at me. If the Pipers weren’t responsible, the rustler was still out there. My animals were still gone, and if I didn’t get them back soon, I ran the risk of losing them forever. They could be shipped anywhere, maybe already on their way across the country. The thought of someone sending my bull to a stockyard to make a quick buck turned my stomach.

Ingram tapped the grain chute. “You know what we use when it’s feeding time?”

“Buckets?”

“You got it.”

“We do, too.” I headed out to the truck and we climbed in. “Let’s get back to the ranch. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Chapter 11

Ingram

She tore up the long road to her ranch, and for the first time in my life I began to feel a little car sick—more so when she took icy curves with more speed than I’d ever dared.

“Why are you acting like the devil’s on our tails?” I tugged on her chest strap, making sure her seatbelt was good and tight.

“It’s not what’s behind us. It’s what’s ahead.”

“What do you mean?”

She gassed it up a sunny hill, the tires grabbing the wet pavement. “The lighter. It was planted, right?”

“Yeah.” It was hard to believe, but Trey had made a good case. The fact that Molly’s livestock was nowhere to be found on his property cemented it—he wasn’t guilty of rustling.

“I think maybe someone planted it and wanted us to go out to the Piper property. Wanted to get us out of the way.”

“What for?”

She slapped the wheel. “I don’t know. But it can’t be good.”

“Look.” I put what I hoped was a calming hand on her arm. “We’ll check on Julia when we get to your place, then I’ll call Zane and make sure everything’s okay on my end. Then we’ll start moving your cattle over to my place. Everything will be fine.”

“I hope so.” She chewed her lip the rest of the way.

Her worry slowly drained to me as I began to try and figure who had it in for Molly that they’d destroy her livelihood.

“Got any enemies?”

“What? No.”

“Someone’s clearly out to get you, and it isn’t Trey Piper.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Before yesterday, I would have said the only one around here who hadn’t taken a liking to me was you.”

“Good point.” I breathed a sigh of relief as she turned up her drive, the end to the bumpy ride close at hand.

“Is that smoke?” She pointed.

A dark wisp twirled up, the first evidence of fire.

“That’s got to be the house or the barn.” Her knuckles turned white on the wheel and she floored it up the small rise leading to her place.

When we crested the hill, the smoke increased. The front of the barn was on fire, flames licking up the doors.

“Jesus!” She stared in disbelief. “Who’s that?”

I squinted against the sun and made out a figure. “Zane.”

He dragged the watering hose from around the side of the barn as we skidded to a stop and jumped from the truck.

“Boss!” He aimed the water at the barn as the cows lowed and horses whinnied inside. They were trapped. “Door’s chained.”

Molly took off, streaking toward the back of the barn as I limped after her.

“Be careful, Molly!” I made it to Zane and yanked more of the hose free as the flames grew, rising to lick at the loft door. If the fire made it to the hay-rich loft, the whole place would be gone in a blink, the animals with it.

“Aim higher.” I pointed, and Zane trained the thick spray on the top flames, the water trailing down the side of the barn and hampering the blaze from rising. “I’ve got to go help Molly.”

I hurried around the side of the barn, grabbing a second hose as I went. The back door was open, and Molly was inside the smoky barn shooing the animals out into the pasture. Flames shot up the center beams as smoke poured through the loft and obscured my view of Molly.

Pulling the hose around, I sprayed the flames. But it was like fighting Goliath with a toothpick. The hose barely made a dent.

“Molly, get out of there!” Horses dashed past, their manes flying as they escaped. Cows followed, the entire herd getting in gear and rushing out in a flood. I had to flatten myself against the barn wall to avoid getting trampled as the animals rushed past.

The smoke grew thicker, and the blaze spread up, lighting the hay on fire and creating an inferno above us.

“Molly!” I dropped the hose and pulled my arm up to my nose. My eyes watered as I hurried into the empty barn, the choking smoke making it nearly impossible to see a damn thing. I yelled her name again, the scorching air ripping down my throat.

I crouched and crawled along the floor where the air was a little clearer. Halfway into the barn, I found her, her body limp.

“Molly!” I shook her, but she didn’t move. “Fuck!” My eyes were watering so much I could barely see, but I grabbed her in my arms and turned to run.

A beam crashed to the floor, and bits of flaming hay followed, creating a rain of fire ahead of us. Trapped. I backpedaled and made for the other side of the barn. My lungs burned and the smell of burning wood mixed with singed hair. Clutching her close, I made it to the barn door and kicked it. “Zane!”

“Boss!”

“Get us out of here!” More burning hay fell, igniting the remnants left on the barn floor. There wasn’t enough air.

“I can’t break the chain!” Panic coated his voice.

I dropped to my knees, hugging Molly’s limp form. “I’ve got you.” My voice was hoarse, barely my own. “I’ve got you, Molly.” Darkness took us both.

Chapter 12

Molly

I coughed myself awake and tried to sit up.

“Shh.” A steady hand pressed against my shoulder. “Lie back down. Everything’s all right.”

In the faint light from the Christmas tree, I made out Ingram’s profile. I was on the couch, him sitting next to me in a side chair. Together, we smelled like a forest fire.

“The animals?” I could barely force the words through my throat.

“You saved them all.” His voice was hoarse, too.

“Barn?”

He shook his head. “Total loss.”

Tears burned my eyes, sudden and thick. “No.”

“I’m sorry, Molly. We tried to save it.” He smoothed my hair from my face, his rough hands strangely comforting. “Here.” He reached for a glass of water. I let him press it to my lips as I took a few sips, calming the fire in my throat. When I’d settled back onto the couch, I asked, “What happened? Where was Julia?”

“We found her in her cabin, knocked out. Big bump popping on her forehead. Zane had gone out to the Piper place, didn’t find your animals, then came back here to wait for us. He says when he got here, the barn was already on fire, though it hadn’t been burning long.”

“Was it him?”

He shifted and scrubbed a hand down his soot-covered face, the bruises from the tussle with Perry barely visible beneath the layer of grime. “Honestly, I don’t know. He’s been a good hand, but his timing is suspicious to say the least.” I sighed and Tanya came over, her tail wagging, and sniffed at me.

“Hey girl.” I gave her a few pats before the scrappy little dog walked over and parked herself beneath the Christmas tree.

“Does Julia know who hit her?”

“No.” He shook his head. “She was in her house about to make lunch when someone came up behind her and knocked her into the wall. She woke up in her cabin when Zane went in there to search for her.”

“God, I hope she’s all right.” A tremor shook my voice as I thought about how close I’d come to losing her.

“Zane’s looking after her. She’s tough. Don’t worry. She’s been a rancher for a lot longer than we have. Rustlers and sabotage are probably old hat to her.”

A shadow crossed my mind. “You don’t think Julia—”

“She’d have to be a real tough customer to knock her damn self out.”

“Right.” I relaxed and glanced at the window. “It’s dark already. My stock. I have to find somewhere to shelter them till we can get them to your place.” I sat up, though a headache began to pound behind my temples.

“Zane’s already herding them over. We had to take down a section of fence for a shortcut. Hope you don’t mind.”

Gratitude bubbled up inside me, and I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him close.

He returned my embrace, his strong arms wrapping around my back. “Seems like I’ll have to bust our fences more often.”

I laughed, relief turning me almost giddy. So much had happened. But having what was left of my animals safe was a good start toward salvaging my ranch.

“We’ll get them good and settled before the snow sets in tomorrow.”

“White Christmas, just like the weatherman promised.”

“Yep. Santa might have some trouble flying through the blizzard tomorrow night.”

“Aren’t you too old to believe in Santa?” I pulled back and peered into his sparkling eyes.

“Of course not.” Without warning, he scooped me up and headed for the stairs.

“Whoa. Your knee!”

“Feels better already. Probably because I found some more of those pills you gave me last night.” He climbed the stairs, his limp growing more pronounced with each step.

“I can walk. Put me down.”

“Nope.” He turned right at the top and took me to the master bathroom.

“What are you doing?” My heart jumped when he set me down and turned to switch on the water in the old clawfoot tub.

“Getting cleaned up. We both look a mess.” He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing tan, clean skin beneath, which was in great contrast to the sooty streaks along his neck and face.

I backed up a step. “You’re um, you’re just going to go and—”

“Take my clothes off?” He reached for his belt. “Yep. You are, too.”

Color rose, heating my neck and face. “What?”

He walked over to me and kept coming until I was pinned between him and the vanity. “This is how it’s going to be from here on out, Molly. Me and you. We were going to get naked with each other sooner or later. I’d just prefer sooner.”

Goosebumps raced across my skin, pleasure heating between my legs, but I wasn’t going to be manhandled. “You can’t j-just decree that we’re going to be naked together a-and—”

His kiss was as sudden as it was searing. We were both smoky, dirty, and tired, but I couldn’t deny the chain reaction of “oh my god” that occurred inside me the moment our lips met. I held onto him as he leaned me back, his big hands settling at my waist and pulling my shirt loose from my jeans.

If “no” had been on the tip of my tongue, his kiss wiped it away with ease. I thought I’d been kissed before. I mean, I went to college. Had a few boyfriends. Did all that. But no, I’d never been kissed. Not like this. Not with this level of confidence and primal possession.

I slid my hands inside his shirt, feeling his hard muscles from so many days out on the range. My nails scored his skin, racing up his back to feel all of him as he unbuttoned my shirt. I could barely breathe, but I wasn’t relinquishing his kiss. Not a chance. His firm lips mastered mine, his tongue doing a dance that melted me.

When he shucked my shirt off my shoulders, he reached around and unsnapped my bra.

Were we moving too fast? My brain said yes. My leg hitched up to his hip in a definitive “no.” He grabbed my ass and pressed his hips forward, grinding his substantial length against my hot core. I shuddered at the pleasure those simple movements promised.

He stepped back and pulled my bra free, dropping it to the floor and palming each breast. “Look at these pink nipples. Probably taste like strawberries.” He bent his head and sucked one into his mouth.

I moaned and grabbed onto the edge of the vanity as he ran the flat of his tongue along the stiff peak. He kneaded the other breast, then switched, his mouth hot and delicious on my skin. Goosebumps streaked down my stomach, and his fingers followed.

He unbuckled my belt with ease, then dropped my fly. “Off.” His gruff voice vibrated against my breast.

Standing back, he stared, watching each movement I made as I hooked my thumbs in the sides of my jeans and panties, then slowly sliding them down my legs. He didn’t use any seduction as he shed his jeans and boxers, his thick cock popping free as he stood up and yanked me into his arms.

Lifting me, he sat us in the tub, the water almost hot enough to burn. He switched off the faucet then grabbed a bottle of body wash—suddenly all business despite the erection pressing into my back.

I turned for another kiss, but he shook his head.

“I want us clean as fast as possible so I can fuck you like a gentleman. In a bed.”

I snorted a laugh, but he wasn’t kidding. He went to work on my body, cleaning me with a washcloth, washing my hair, and then doing the same to himself until we were both practically squeaky. There wasn’t even any funny business.

“Done.” He tossed the washcloth like a man who’d reached five o’clock on a Friday and was ready to get on with his fun weekend.

We toweled off, and I began to think that this was crazy. After all, Ingram and I were neighbors. Maybe we shouldn’t get invol—

“Hey!” Once again, I was in his arms as he carried me to my bed, placing me on the Christmas quilt I’d used every year since I was a kid.

He climbed on top of me, a few stray water droplets shining on his lean body, and his wet hair tickling my forehead. “I can’t wait for this. For you. I’ve already waited too long. Because I was a stubborn ass.” He dropped a kiss on my lips. “Because I didn’t ask for your story.” Another kiss, this one longer. “Because I made dumb assumptions.” This kiss stole my breath and wiped my mind.

I spread my legs and he settled between them, the only thing separating us my fluffy white towel. Our tongues warred as he stopped explaining and did what he was best at—kissing me. After a few moments of mind-numbing lip lock, he kissed down my throat and came to the edge of my towel. With a flick of his wrist, he’d opened it, revealing me laid out like a present beneath him.

“Jesus, woman. This body—” He kissed down the valley between my breasts, then dragged his tongue to my belly button. “Is a work of art.”

I’d always thought my hips were too wide and my thighs a little too plump, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. When he kissed lower, I dug my fingers in his hair. Was this really happening? I didn’t have to ask myself that question again, because Ingram buried his face in my pussy, licking and devouring me with his mouth wide open.

“Oh!” I shifted my hips away from him, but he gripped my ass, pulling me toward him and holding on, his fingers digging in as his tongue did wicked things.

He slowed his onslaught, licking slowly, giving me a moment to adjust to the sudden sensations—his scruff against my inner thighs, his upper lip grazing my clit, and his tongue sinking inside me.

“Ingram,” I breathed. I should have told him to slow down. But my pussy was utterly against the notion. Not to mention, my heart echoed Ingram’s earlier sentiment: it was only a matter of time before we got naked together. The heat he created in me verified his words. I wanted Ingram, and I wanted him just like this. Wild, hot, and now.

He groaned and lifted my ass, pressing me to his face like I was some sort of dessert that he wanted every last taste of. I gripped his hair, my breasts pressed between my upper arms, and my nipples pointing at the ceiling. Arching my back, I opened even wider for him, and he groaned, licking faster as he massaged my ass.

Everything inside me curled tighter and tighter as his tongue worked magic between my thighs. His scruff against my sensitive spots only heightened the feeling, and his mouth seemed to create brand new sins with each little move he made. My thighs began to shake, uncontrollable tremors that radiated from my core.

He groaned and delved his tongue inside me before returning to my clit. “Look at me. I want to see when you come.”

I couldn’t deny him. He could have told me to do any number of things, and I would have done them if it meant he didn’t stop licking me. I met his gaze and he focused on my clit, the tiny bundle of nerves so sensitive that it verged on nothingness. But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything. He sucked it gently, then licked faster and faster.

My breath caught in my throat, and my hips locked. I wanted to throw my head back, but I held his stare as my orgasm ripped through me. I moaned, his name mixed with a long breath as I plunged over the edge, diving deep into the rolling waves of release. Again and again my body tightened and relaxed until I melted into the bed, my body limp, every last bit of pleasure released onto Ingram’s tongue.

He kissed back up my body, his mouth carrying my own taste as his lips met mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he pressed his hardness against my sensitive flesh. A shiver went through me, and he moved his hips, rubbing his cock back and forth, coating himself in my wetness.

“I don’t think I have any condoms,” I whispered against his lips.

“That’s fine by me.” He smiled, his eyes peering into me far more deeply than should have been possible. “You may not have noticed, Molly, but I don’t get around. Can’t even remember the last time I did this. Been a long time.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Haven’t met a woman I wanted to do it with till you.”

I wondered at the softness in his voice, the reverent way he looked at me. “How can you say such sweet things? How can a roughneck cowboy get into my panties so easy?”

“I like to think it’s my charm.” He kissed me again, one hand on my cheek and the other tangled in my hair. “Maybe my rugged good looks?” He dotted kisses along my jaw and whispered in my ear, “My—what was it you called it—‘nice ass’?”

“I can’t deny that part.” I reached down and ran my hands along his hard muscles.

“Don’t deny the rest of it.” He met my gaze again, a seriousness in his eyes, his tone. “Don’t deny that you and me are meant to be together like this. Right here. Right now.”

It was too sudden. Too much. Too everything. But when he held me like this, when he spoke to me like I was the most precious thing in the world to him, I couldn’t tell him no. My heart wouldn’t let me.

“This is right.” I leaned up and captured his bottom lip between my teeth. “All of it.”

“That’s my girl.” He pulled back and pushed inside me.

I gasped at the sudden intrusion, but he covered the slight sting with another kiss that turned me to jelly. He pulled back and pushed farther again and again until he was all the way inside, my body stretching to accommodate him.

Stilling, he supported himself on his elbow. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” I ran my hands down his chest. “Better than all right.” I hitched my hips up, moving on his shaft.

“Jesus, woman.” He groaned and pumped into me, each stroke harder than the last. The bed began to squeak, matching his rhythm as I hooked my legs around his waist.

“You got any idea how good you feel?” His words were more grunt than anything else, but I took them.

He gripped my hands, pinning them next to my head as he surged into me, our bodies slapping together and a slight sheen of sweat coating the both of us. My hard nipples slid against his chest, and he didn’t ignore them. Continuing his hard rhythm, he bent his head and nibbled on one. I gasped and arched as he took as much of my breast in his mouth as he could.

I moaned and unlocked my legs, spreading them wide so that each impact jolted my clit.

“Fucking hell.” He leaned back and stared down at my breasts as they bounced, then his eyes traveled to where we were joined.

His cock thickened. “I’m going to blow just from looking at your sweet pink pussy taking every inch.”

“Oh, god.” I writhed, his filthy mouth causing extra neurons to fire in the pleasure center of my brain.

“Look at that.” He pulled out to his tip, then buried himself again. “So wet and hot for me. I’m going to come all over you, paint this pussy white.”

“Ingram!” I gripped the quilt as he pressed his thumb against my clit.

He picked up his pace, pounding into me and stroking me as his eyes continued devouring my body. I wasn’t self-conscious. Instead, I wanted him to see everything. I wanted to spread wide for him and let him look his fill. It turned me on that he wanted to see all of me.

“Jesus, I’m going to blow. I need you to come.” His thumb worked double time, playing me as I worked my hips to his rhythm.

“I-I’m—” My orgasm hit me in a rush, like a dam breaking. I froze, everything inside me focusing on the explosion of release.

“Fuck, look at you.” He thrust a few more times as I got lost in my orgasm, my body wringing out every last bit of bliss. Pulling out, he fisted himself and shot thick ropes of come all over my pussy, coating me as I came back down from the high he’d given me. He grunted through it, his face drawn tight as he milked his cock.

When it was over, he sat back on his haunches and placed a palm on my inner thigh, keeping me open. “That’s the hottest damn thing I’ve seen in my life.”

I put my arms over my head and just tried to breathe. He’d worn me out, more pleasure than I’d felt in a long time, maybe ever.

He stared for a few more moments, then blinked hard. “Guess I have to clean you up. It’s a shame, though.” He rose, went to the bathroom, and came back with a warm washcloth.

Once I was clean, we pulled the quilt over us, and I lay on his chest. “That was …”

“Perfect,” he supplied.

It was a good word for it. He and I fit together as if we were made for each other, and he certainly knew what I liked. I shivered as I remembered his face between my legs.

“Cold?”

“No.” I traced lazy circles on his hard stomach. “Just surprised, I guess.”

“Surprised?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t usually bed down with guys so quickly.”

He put his finger under my chin and lifted until I met his eyes. “You don’t bed down with anyone but me from now on.”

I must have shown my shock, because he laughed. “I mean it, Molly. It’s you and me.”

My eyebrows lowered. “I’m not a cow you can brand.”

“No, but I put my mark on you, that’s for certain.”

Lord, did he. I pressed my thighs together. “We aren’t married. You don’t have to—”

“Not yet, no.”

“Not yet?” I gawked at him.

He grinned. “Are you proposing?”

“Me? What? No!” I pushed against him to try and sit up, but he just pulled me closer, his chest shaking with laughter.

“I’m just teasing. Calm down.”

I smacked his stomach but settled against him, mainly because he was warm and smelled good and had just given me the best sex of my life. Not because I wanted to marry him. That was crazy. Wasn’t it?

Chapter 13

Ingram

She fought to stay awake, talking about her lost barn and wanting to check in on Julia. I assured her Julia was resting and Zane had taken care of the animals for the night. We’d have the morning to get them settled before the Christmas Eve snow set in. After a few more moments of worry, exhaustion pulled her under, and she snored lightly against my chest. When did snoring become cute? I don’t know, but somehow, Molly made it adorable.

After she’d been out for a little while, I kissed her crown and gently disentangled myself. Heading downstairs, I stopped at the phone and called Zane. “Everything all right over there?”

“Yeah. I got them bedded down in the windbreaks. Only problem is a couple of them were missing ear tags. So, we might have trouble separating a few.”

“That’s not a problem. We can do a head count and figure it out from there.”

“Sure thing. They’ve got food and water, should be able to stay warm overnight since it’s not as cold as it’s going to be tomorrow. I’ll dish out more food later in the day tomorrow to get them ready for the cool down. I didn’t make it out to the back barn today for more hay bales, just because of the work with Molly’s animals, but I’ll get them in the morning.”

“Good work, Zane. And thanks for what you did at the barn. You saved our lives.”

He laughed. “I saved my job. Without a Brady to run the Brady Ranch, I’d be unemployed.”

“I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“No worries, boss. See you in the morning.”

“Bright and early.” I hung up and shuffled over to the fireplace. Only a few embers were left, so I loaded up some fresh wood to get it going.

The Christmas tree twinkled, the lights reminding me that it was time for joy and cheer, not barn fires and rustled cattle. But we had to work with what we were given.

Footsteps on the stairs behind me caught my ear. Molly came down dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, her red hair flowing wild around her shoulders.

“I was just checking on things.” I walked to her, doing my best to hide my limp and the pain in my knee as I took her in my arms at the base of the stairs. “You are gorgeous, you know that?”

She smiled and nipped at my chin. “You’re going to spoil me.”

“I sure as hell hope so.” I ran my hands down to her ass and lifted her until we were eye to eye. “Now what are you doing up?”

“I’m going to run out and check on Julia right quick. Five minutes and I’ll be back.”

“Five minutes is a long time.” I kissed her neck.

She sighed. “I had no idea you were so forward, Mr. Brady. Not until today.”

“I can be a lot more forward.” I ground my growing erection against her. “Just give me a second.”

She laughed as I kissed her throat. “Let me check on her first, and then we can continue this discussion on manners.”

I grumbled but lowered her to the floor. “I’ll come with you.”

“Julia would shoot you the second she saw you on the doorstep. She doesn’t like men in her cabin.”

“She’s a smart lady.” I pulled her coat from the hook and helped her pull it on, then handed her gloves after she pulled on her boots. “Hurry back.”

“I will.” She stretched up on her tiptoes for another kiss, which I happily gave.

How could something so new feel so right? I wasn’t about to question it. Something inside me had clicked, had told me that Molly was the one and that I needed to do everything in my power to convince her I was the man for her. Call it a biological imperative or whatever, it was real, and I could feel it deep in my bones.

“Be safe.” I opened the door for her.

“It’s twenty yards away. I think I can manage.” She took careful steps across the icy porch and down onto the walk. “Keep the bed warm for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I wanted to follow her and drag her back upstairs with me, but opted against it. The night was still, stars twinkling above as bits of the barn still smoked here and there. She paused when she drew near it, studying its charred destruction in the moonlight. Her shoulders slumped a little, and I wanted to hold her, but she took another step, and then another, then turned her back on it as she walked the rest of the way to Julia’s cabin.

Once the door opened and she was safely inside, I closed the front door and headed upstairs to warm the bed just like she requested. I intended to have something nice and hot for her upon her return.

Chapter 14

Molly

“Julia?” I knocked and walked in.

She sat at her small kitchen table, a bag of ice pressed to her forehead. “Howdy.”

“Wow, that looks bad.” I took the chair across from her as she pulled the ice away to show me the damage.

“Thanks.” She gave a wry smile and replaced the bag. “How are you? I wanted to come over there and see about you, but Ingram assured me he had it covered.”

My cheeks warmed as she said his name, and of course, she noticed. Damn her eagle eyes.

“I guess he had it covered even better than I’d guessed.” She smiled, then flinched at the pain.

“Shouldn’t you get to bed?”

“Ingram called Doc Baker. He said for me to sit up for a while. Make sure it’s not a concussion or some nonsense.” She held my gaze. “I’m sorry about the barn.” A heavy sigh labored from her lungs. “Maybe I’ve gotten too old to be a hand anymore. First the windbreaks, now the barn. I’m not doing you any good.” The sadness that coated her words soaked into me like a cold rain.

“You’re doing the best you can.” I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “That’s the best any of us can do.”

“But it sure don’t seem good enough.”

“It is.” I hitched a thumb at the barn. “Maybe we can get some sort of newfangled barn with the insurance money? Just think of all the gadgets we can buy. Modernize things a little more. Make less work for us, you know?”

She nodded then stopped. “You think insurance will pay?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Let me handle the insurance adjuster. I’ll tell him it was lightning and dare him to call me a liar. That’ll get it paid.”

“Will that work?”

She shot me a hard look. “Worked for my husband.”

“Your husband?” I’d never heard her speak of him directly, though I knew he’d died a few years before she’d come to work on my ranch. “I thought he had some sort of accident on the ranch you two had?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I remember a time when I had a lot of accidents. Falling down stairs, falling into door knobs. For years, I’d have all sorts of mishaps. A few times I had broken ribs, several black eyes, couldn’t count all the bruises. Lost a baby back toward the beginning. Because I fell.” Her eyes hardened. “Then one day, Bart was the one who had an accident.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t form any other response to the monumental secret that had just passed between us.

“Insurance may have been suspicious, but they paid up on his pittance of a life insurance policy.” She took a deep breath and almost managed to hide the shake in it. “So you let me handle it.”

“Okay. Not a problem.” I wanted to hug her, to tell her everything was all right, but that wasn’t the sort of woman she was. Tough was putting it mildly. “And I don’t blame you. Not one bit. Your secret is safe with me.”

She gave me a brief nod. “The damn barn. I can’t believe it. Son of a bitch, whoever it was. One minute I was opening the bread box, the next I wake up and some guy is standing over me. He’s lucky I was all messed up—” She gestured toward her forehead with her free hand. “Or I might have killed him thinking he was the one that done it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t kill Zane. He’s the one that’s keeping our cattle warm tonight.”

“That was a mighty fine thing for Ingram to do.” She narrowed her eyes. “He didn’t force you to, ya know, repay him or anything like that?”

“What?” I cocked my head to the side, then realization dawned. “No!” I pulled my coat around me although the cabin was warm. “No way. He’s not like that.” I wrinkled my nose. “And neither am I.”

“I know you’re good as gold. It’s just that Ingram hasn’t been exactly welcoming to you since you got back.”

“That was a misunderstanding. He thought…”

“What?” She adjusted the ice to the other side of her bump.

“He thought I’d abandoned Pop. That I was the one who didn’t want to be here.”

She dropped the ice and struggled to her feet. “I’ll hang that little shit out to dry for thinking any such thing.”

“Julia, wait.” I rose and walked around to her side of the table right as the door opened.

“Ingram, you shouldn’t have—” My voice died in my throat as I focused on the gun barrel pointed at me.

“Shut the fuck up, and come with me. Make a sound, and I’ll pop you both.”

Chapter 15

Ingram

The faint sound of an engine had me turning over and looking out the window. Brake lights disappeared down the dark drive, heading away from the ranch. They didn’t look like Molly’s. A low humming noise came from downstairs, setting my teeth on edge.

“What the fuck?” I rose, a bad feeling replacing the anticipation that had been bubbling in my veins as I waited for Molly to return. I dressed quickly and half-hopped down the stairs. Tanya pointed at the door, her coat standing on end, the low hum a growl from her throat.

Not good. I pulled on my boots and coat, then grabbed my hat and Molly’s double barrel that was leaned against the wall by the door. Searching the rest of the hooks, I found the keys to her truck.

When I reached for the door handle, Tanya began to bark, her scratchy voice snapping through the quiet air. “Wait here, girl. I’ll find out what’s going on.” I slid through the door, not giving her enough room to follow, then closed it behind me.

Molly’s truck still sat in the drive, a sheet of ice covering the windshield. The night was clear and frigid, no wind stirring across the sagebrush. I trudged through the leftover snow, my boots crunching as I approached Julia’s small cabin. The lights were on inside, and a small wisp of smoke trailed through the air from the chimney.

I crept up the steps and leaned next to the door. My unease doubled when I realized there were no voices, not a sound coming from inside. Trying the handle, I found it unlocked and swung it open.

“Molly, Julia?” I stepped inside.

No one replied. The cabin was austere but homey, a low fire burning in a wood stove. But there was a chair turned over in the kitchen, an ice pack on the floor, the bag busted and leaking water. It felt wrong. All kinds of wrong.

My sense of urgency kicked up a notch as I rushed out of the cabin and down the gravel front walk. I hopped into Molly’s truck and turned the key. The engine turned over, but didn’t start. I tried it again. Same result. “Shit!” I gave the gas pedal a few pumps, but not too many—didn’t want to flood the engine—and tried it again. It turned over and started to catch, then died out.

Please, if there is a god above, or an angel, or a Santa, or even a flying reindeer, help me out here!

One more pump, and it finally turned over and caught. Thank you, Rudolph. I gunned it, warming the engine, then put it into gear and tore down the drive as quickly as I could without careening into the ditch on either side. Driving on snow was one thing. Driving on ice was another. I gripped the steering wheel, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I tried to figure out what had happened to Molly and Julia. It had to have been the rustlers. That was the only explanation. But who?

When I reached the main highway, I had to choose. Right or left. No brake lights in sight either way, and no tracks I could follow. Which way would they have gone? Turning right would lead to the Piper ranch, left to my place. Each moment I spent sitting here trying to decide was time wasted.

I turned the wheel right, then took one more look toward my property. A hint of color in the otherwise earth-colored landscape caught my eye. Squinting, I circled the wheel back toward the right and eased out onto the highway, rolling to a stop. A red and green checked kerchief lay next to the road. A sign from Molly.

The gentlemanly thing to do would have been to stop and pick it up. But I didn’t have time for that. I gunned her old truck down the road, tearing off toward my ranch. Whatever was going on, it was happening there. And that’s where I’d find my Molly.

Chapter 16

Molly

“Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work.” I pressed against the truck door, Julia sitting in the middle and trying to shield me with her body.

“It will work, and then I’ll own your ranch and Ingram’s.” Perry Piper shot me a grin, one that sent a shiver down my spine. He kept a pistol in his left hand, the barrel trained on Julia, as he drove with his right. “Now shut your fucking mouth. I’ve got important shit going on.”

He turned right onto the lane that led to the Brady Ranch. Why was he taking us to Ingram’s place? Was Zane in on this plan? And where was Trey? Each question built on the last, but I didn’t ask any of them. Perry had made it clear he wasn’t in the mood to talk. It didn’t matter. I had to figure a way out of this situation before it was too late. My clue for Ingram wouldn’t even matter if he didn’t come after us. So it was on me.

“If you let us go, we can work it out, Perry.”

“I’ve already worked it out.” He sighed like he was being forced to explain the simplest concept to the town idiot, and the air whistled through his broken nose. “Ingram Brady is going to kill the two of you. Bad blood and all that. Everyone’s already seen you two arguing at the co-op. So, you two wander onto Ingram’s property looking for your stolen animals. You find them in his back barn. Then he shows up, catches you, and kills you to keep the secret. Then, when he can’t live with what he’s done, he puts a pistol in his mouth and ends it all.”

“What? You’ll never get away with this. Trey—”

“Trey?” His anger flashed as his voice rose. “This isn’t about Trey. This is my idea. I’m the one who’s going to get your ranch. Not him. Me.”

Julia tried to flatten herself against me even more. “Whatever pissing match you’re in with your brother doesn’t have to go like this, Perry.”

“It’s already done.” He shrugged and drove past the Brady Homestead, the large log home dark. “I’ll have both ranches, get to make my own place.”

“You could buy your own place without committing triple murders.” I eyed the door handle, but we were moving too fast. If I jumped out, I couldn’t guarantee Julia wouldn’t fall under the tires behind me. And even if we made it, where would we go? Perry could shoot us down as soon as he got a bead on us.

“Trey controls all the family money. I have just enough to get these places, especially since no one will want them once they have such an ugly history.”

I’d thought Perry was the stupid one. I was wrong. Though he didn’t have a head for business like Trey, he definitely had a mind for criminal acts. And he spoke as if he’d already killed us. In his mind, it was done.

Panic rose in my throat, threatening to strangle me and blot out any plans I had for escape. My breaths came fast and shallow, spots appearing in my vision.

“Calm down, Molly.” Julia grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

Perry snorted as we bumped over the now-dirt road through the hills leading to Ingram’s back barn. “Yeah, just relax. It’ll all be over soon.”

I forced myself to take deep breaths. It wouldn’t do Julia any good for me to fall to pieces. Getting out of here would take all my wits.

“You think Trey’s going to respect you more when he finds out you killed the competition?” I put as much acid in my tone as I dared. “Sounds like cheating to me.”

“Shut your mouth.” His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. The back barn came into view, the red paint faded and only a small light glowing in the rafters.

Julia’s grip tightened on my hand, but I kept going, “I mean, I’m sure he’ll never figure out that you’re the one who stole my animals, killed me, then killed Ingram and Julia. It won’t be completely obvious when you snap up both ranches right out from under him.”

“I said shut the fuck up!” He lifted the pistol so it sat atop his right arm. “Or I’ll do the old lady right now.”

“Old lady?” Julia’s disdain made me hold my breath.

Maybe we’d pushed him too far, but he spoke quietly now. “I was wondering if I could do it. Kill you two with no problems. Now I fucking know I can. Just to shut you up. And then I’ll sleep like a goddamn baby.”

We skidded to a stop in front of the barn, and Perry motioned for us to get out.

With shaking fingers, I opened the door and stepped onto the frozen earth. Julia followed as Perry came around the front of the truck, gun in hand.

“Get in the barn.” He waved the barrel at us.

Holding hands, Julia and I walked past, her limp giving us shuddering steps toward the barn. He followed close behind, then yanked the barn door open wide enough for us to enter. Inside, my stolen livestock had been separated into adjacent pens. My bull, Nelly’s Bruiser, was stuck in a stall far too narrow for him, and he huffed a hot breath out his nose as we entered. Two cows stood in front of his pen, their legs straight like pokers—they were in heat, and Nelly’s Bruiser didn’t take kindly to being cock blocked.

Julia and I exchanged a look. If one of us could unlatch his door, maybe he’d be just pissed off enough to make trouble.

“Keep walking.” Perry pulled the door shut behind him and followed us farther into the barn, the familiar scents of hay and manure mixing.

We neared the bull’s pen, and Julia edged a little farther from me, her limp growing more and more pronounced.

“What are you doing?” Perry barked, sending a few of the cows mooing and backing away, two of them being the ones in heat.

Nelly’s Bruiser huffed out his nose again and knocked his horns against the wood roof supports on either side of his pen.

Julia grabbed onto the bull’s door, under the pretense of supporting herself.

“Get up, you old bitch!”

“She hurt her leg.” I stepped between the gun and Julia. “Give her a second.”

“You know what? Fuck this. Let’s get it over with.” He raised the gun, the barrel aimed right between my eyes.

Chapter 17

Ingram

I yanked open the door to the barn and ran in right as the biggest bull this side of the Mississippi rampaged out of his pen. Julia and Molly backed up, scurrying behind a stack of hay bales as all hell broke loose.

Perry Piper stood ten feet ahead of me, though he backed up quickly as the bull charged out, his breath coming in steamy bursts.

“Stop!” Perry aimed and fired off a shot as I tackled him from behind. The gun skittered across the concrete floor, and for the second time that day, I found myself in a fist fight with the brute.

We scuffled until I managed to get a knee up and bring my fist down on his face. He howled as his nose crunched against my fist—again—and tried to buck me off as I settled on top of him, swinging with all my might. My hands burned from the effort, but the thought of him trying to hurt my Molly turned me into a demon. I wouldn’t stop until he was pulp on the floor.

“Ingram, the bull!” Molly peeked from behind the hay bale, and I threw myself backward right as the bull stomped over, its front left hoof landing only a foot away from Perry’s head.

He coughed and sputtered, then rolled away from the bull. Blood streaked down his face as he struggled to his knees. When he got on all fours, he reached for the gun in a small drift of hay. I darted forward to grab it first, but the bull pawed at the floor and lumbered forward, dropping its head and pinning Perry beneath it.

“The fuck?” Perry squealed as the bull bent its knees and hunkered down on top of him.

I kicked the gun away, but the bull snorted at me, its dark eyes just as threatening as its noises.

Backing away, I held my hands out toward him, trying to appear harmless. “Whoa, boy.”

A deep grunt barreled through its chest, and its tail flicked up. It started thrusting, the movements so hard that Perry scraped across the floor toward me.

“Stop!” Perry tried to claw his way out from under the bull. There was no way out. The bull wasn’t going to stop till he got what he was after. And, at that moment, impregnating Perry was the only thing on the beast’s mind.

Grabbing the gun, I rushed to where Molly and Julia were hunkered down. “Are you all right?” I pulled Molly to my chest.

She wrapped her arms around me, her strawberry scent tickling my nose. “I’m fine. We’re fine. You saved us.”

Perry’s cries echoed around the barn, but I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, it would be a win if the bull suffocated him with a bucket-load of jizz.

Julia spat. “I’m pretty sure I saved us by letting Nelly’s Bruiser loose.” She peeked over the hay bales. “Perry’s gonna have one sore ass when this is all over.”

I cupped Molly’s face in my hands. “You sure you aren’t hurt?”

“No.” She met my eyes, her blue ones stunning even in the low light from the barn overheads. “I’m fine. We’re fine. Perry was trying to take our ranches. He was setting you up by bringing my animals here. Then he was going t-to…” Her voice died away as my rage took on a new life. If Perry hadn’t been taking a beating from the bull, I would have killed him with my bare hands.

Instead, I kissed Molly, not as gently as I should have, but with all the feeling I possessed. She melted in my arms as Julia grumbled and limped away to check on the other animals. I lifted her, clutching her close to me, and she hugged me tight.

Her lips next to my ear sent tingles down my spine. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen. Neither would you.”

“Boss?” Zane walked into the barn, his face heavy with sleep. “What the hell?” He moved forward, as if to try and break up the bull’s session with Perry.

“Leave him!”

“But boss…” His eyes were wider than my dinner plates.

Molly stepped forward, though her legs seemed a little wobbly. “He brought Julia and me out here to kill us. Then he was going to kill Ingram and take both our ranches. He’s the one who’s been rustling around here.”

“Oh.” Zane nodded then clapped at the bull. “In that case, carry on, my friend.”

“Let’s go.” I took Molly’s hand and led her out of the barn. “Zane, I’ll call the sheriff when I get back to the house, so expect company soon. Might want to get the bull off him before he gets here, but not too long before that. Got me?”

“Sure thing.” He tipped his hat at me. “Look at him going to town. Damn, that’s one fine bull.”

Perry hollered some more, but Nelly’s Bruiser showed no signs of letting up. I turned from the sight, and hoped that time would wash away the image.

When we walked out of the barn, Molly dug in her heels. “But Julia—”

“Is safe with Zane,” I finished for her and helped her into the truck. I ran around to the driver’s side, the pain in my knee barely registering after the night I’d had. I needed to get her somewhere safe and warm, somewhere that I could take stock of her, make sure she wasn’t injured.

Cranking up the heater, I reversed and headed back to my homestead. “You getting warm? Come here.” I pulled her over next to me and wrapped my arm around her.

She shivered, and it telegraphed into her voice. “I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re probably going into shock.” White-hot anger ripped through me at what Perry had done. But another thought drowned that one out. I scanned the horizon, looking for more headlights. “Where was that slimy bastard Trey?”

“He didn’t know. At least I don’t think he did. Perry set it all up. He was trying to one-up his brother.”

I wasn’t entirely sure if Perry had been telling the truth about his intentions, but I didn’t give a shit. As long as he got what was coming to him—both from the bull and the sheriff—that was all I needed. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters to me.” My eyes began to burn, and the road grew hazy. “When I thought I’d lost you.” Were those tears? Get it together, Ingram. “I almost lost my mind. And then I found that clue you left me. I followed it. I would have followed you to the ends of the earth.”

“Shh.” Her soft lips whispered across my cheeks. “I’m okay now. Safe as I can be.” She wiped my cheeks, then snuggled her head beneath mine, my heart likely pounding in her ear. It was hers—my heart, my everything, all of it.

Chapter 18

Molly

What was that tantalizing smell? I rolled over in my bed and stared out at the white world beyond. The snow storm had arrived just after lunch the previous day. Ingram, Julia, Zane, and I had worked until the very last moment to get all the animals fed, watered, and settled before the snow became too thick to do anything.

Sheriff Crow had taken Perry into custody, and Trey had shown up, his face set into an imposing mask of fury. I seriously doubted Perry would get the justice he deserved—not in this crooked county—but at least he wouldn’t be able to escape his brother’s wrath. On top of that, I was certain if Ingram ever saw that jerk again, Perry would wish for another meet-up with Nelly’s Bruiser rather than deal with my man.

My man. I giggled into my pillow and caught the definite scent of cinnamon rising up the stairs. I rose, dressed, and hustled downstairs to see what Ingram was cooking up. Zane snored on the sofa, his hat covering his face and Tanya sleeping against his side, Earl the hound dog draped across his feet. Julia had retreated to her cabin, reassuring everyone she could take care of herself. She’d never change, not that I wanted her to.

Ingram stood in front of the stove, shirtless and hissing as the bacon sizzled. “Goddammit.” He flipped some French toast in one of my iron skillets and poked at the bacon from a distance.

I was about to suggest that if he’d put on a shirt, it wouldn’t be an issue, but held my tongue. Having that sort of body on display in my kitchen while cooking my breakfast was worth any pain he might be enduring. I slid up behind him and dropped kisses across his strong back.

“Good morning.” His low rumble had my nipples at attention, and I pressed my body against his.

“Merry Christmas.” I dragged my teeth across his triceps.

“Woman, you’ve got to stop that or I won’t be able to get any breakfast into you. I want you topped up for what I’ve got planned.”

“You’ve got plans?”

“Of course.” He plated the bacon and the French toast. “Coffee’s made, if you’re interested.”

“Always.” I dropped a few more kisses on his back before pouring two cups of the gods’ nectar and sitting down at the table. “Should I wake Zane?”

“Let him sleep. He earned it. Besides, I want to spend all my time with you.” He gave me a slow smile that seemed to grow more appealing each time I saw it. “Syrup?”

I nodded and he poured some on top of my toast before drenching his own. The first bite was nothing short of heaven. “My god, this French toast is incredible. It’s like the world’s best French toast. I’m going to need the recipe.”

“No, you aren’t.” He folded a crunchy piece of bacon into his mouth.

“Oh?”

“Because I’ll be here whenever you want it.”

I wanted to throw myself across the table and kiss the syrup right off his lips. But I tried to calm my heart and think with my head. Was this all too fast?

“Stop doing that.” He forked another piece of toast between his sinful lips, and he looked downright rough and tumble with the bruising around his left eye from the run-in with Perry.

“What?”

“Overthinking this.” He gestured between us with his fork. “What we got going.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” He smiled again. “Your eyebrows kinda squinch up when you’re doing it.”

“You don’t know that.” I forced my face to relax and took another bite of his delicious meal, washing it down with coffee.

“I know you, Molly. I know you think this is all too fast, and that maybe we’re just, I don’t know, still on a high from all the stuff that went down yesterday, but that’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it?”

“I think you know.” He watched me over the lip of his coffee cup as he took a big pull, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Love?” I’d thought the word too much. Every time I looked at him, those four letters flitted around the edges of my mind.

He nodded. “That’s what this is. I’ve never felt this way. Not once in thirty-five years. Have you?”

I slowly shook my head. “But only twenty-five years,” I added with a smirk.

“Exactly.” He ignored my last little jab and finished off his coffee. “I understand if you’re skittish, but I can make you some promises right now. I’ll never hurt you, not intentionally. If I ever raise a hand to you, you have my permission to walk right out on me and never look back. I will live every day with the intention of making you happy. And I will do my best to deserve you, though I never will. But it won’t be all rainbows and roses. I expect we’ll disagree sometimes. And I can be stubborn—” He arched a brow at me. “Or so I’m told. On top of that, I’m jealous. It’s just my nature when it comes to you. I won’t share you. Ever. But I promise you, right here over the world’s best French toast, that I will love you for every moment that my heart beats. It will beat for you and only you.”

My heart had never been so full. The love in his eyes, the conviction in his voice—all of it cut through my layers until he touched my soul. His promises were made with leather, hard work, and steel. All things I knew and respected, and things I knew could never be broken.

He stood and walked around the table. “I got you something when I went by my house last night. A Christmas gift for you.” Dropping to his knee, he pulled out a ring from his pocket, a sapphire shining at its center. “This belonged to my mother. I never thought I’d have a use for it. Not until you showed back up in my life.”

I pressed my palms to my face as I stared, disbelief adding to the emotions swelling inside me. “Ingram.” My voice shook.

“Will you marry me?” He offered it to me, the sapphire shining right along with the tears in his eyes.

There was only one answer. One word that was so right it practically leapt off my tongue. “Yes.”

He slid the ring on my finger and pulled me into his arms. With an easy scoop, he picked me up and carried me down the hall.

“But breakfast…” I peered at the French toast as it disappeared from view.

“I’ll make you a fresh one. But right this second, I’m going to need to seal the deal.”

“Afraid I’m going to change my mind?”

“Afraid you’ll come to your senses and run off. I want you satisfied, too tired to move, much less change your mind.”

I laughed as he carried me past Zane, who was beginning to stir.

“Breakfast’s in the kitchen. If you don’t want to hear all the nigh-illegal things I’m about to do to my bride-to-be, I suggest you grab it to go.”

“Uh.” Zane sat up and rubbed his eyes as Ingram climbed the stairs with me in his arms. “Congratulations?”

“Thank you,” I called and dug my nails into Ingram’s shoulders as heat rose into my cheeks. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You have no idea, Molly.” He grinned, and suddenly the heat spread lower, much lower, and I squirmed in his arms.

He carried me to my room and sat me on the bed. “I want to see all of you. Every last bit of skin.”

“I think you have.”

“As if I could get enough.” He shook his head and backed up a step, his hands going to his waistband. “Strip for me.”

He pushed his pants down, his thick erection pointing to his belly button.

My mouth watered at the sight, and I peeled my top off slowly, then tossed it to the floor.

He gripped himself, stroking slowly.

It was so wrong, so erotic. I could feel my heartbeat between my legs as he stared at my bare breasts, the nipples tightening under his gaze. My instinct was to be self-conscious, but the fire in his eyes told me he liked everything he saw. And I reveled in the power it gave me, the pure desire it lit inside me.

“More.” His voiced dropped an octave.

I stood and turned my back to him, then pushed my pants and panties off my hips, bending over at my waist quite a bit farther than usual to shuck them off.

“Jesus, woman. I could come just from that view.”

I turned and walked toward him, getting up on my tiptoes to claim his lips as I slipped my hand around his cock. He rested his hand on top of mine, directing me to stroke him steadily. His groan rumbled against me, and each stroke had him tensing more and more. The sizzling arousal inside me had a million wild thoughts running through my mind—each of them involving positions and scenarios I wanted to try with him. The first, though, was to taste him.

After another sweep of my tongue against his, I sank to my knees and claimed his cock head between my lips.

He looked down, every muscle in him drawn tight. “For heaven’s sake.”

I smiled and took him in my mouth, the salty drop of pre-come sliding against my tongue.

His hips bucked forward, and he ran his hands through my hair. “Goddamn, Molly. Goddamn.”

I pressed his tip against the back of my throat, then eased off before I gagged. Gripping his base, I nodded my head on him, rubbing his shaft against the roof of my mouth and pressing against the bottom with my tongue. Steady pressure and smooth strokes. His hips rocked to my rhythm, and he never took his eyes off me as I licked and sucked.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll come.”

I made an “mmm” sound and kept going.

“Molly.” His voice was broken glass as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up, then walked me back to the bed. “I’m coming inside your sweet pussy. When I say. Not before.”

Lord knew I didn’t want him to stop, but I blurted, “I’m not on birth control.”

“Good.” He prowled on top of me, his cock head pushing against my slick core. “We’re forever, Molly. You and me. Kids or no kids. It’ll always be the two of us. Is that all right with you?”

The intensity in his eyes, the pure love in his words—I wanted it all, everything he described and more.

One whispered word, and it was done. “Yes.”

He surged inside.

I made a keening noise at the sudden sting and delicious rush of sensation. “Ingram.”

“I love my name on those cherry lips.” He kissed me and thrusted again, seating himself fully inside me to the point it was almost uncomfortable. Then he slid out, his cock coated with my wetness, and made love to me. Slowly at first, with sweet kisses and reverent touches.

“Harder.” I raked my nails down his back.

“Oh, hell, woman.” It was as if he was waiting for me to ask, because he immediately picked up the pace. Each pounding stroke jarring against my clit, his chest rubbing my nipples as he nipped and sucked my neck.

“I need to get a look at you riding my cock. Show me.” He rolled over, keeping himself firmly inside me, and sat me up.

I was utterly bare, joined with him in the most intimate way—and I was free. He palmed my breasts as I rose and sank onto his shaft.

The way he looked at me—like I was the sexiest thing alive—had me tangling my hands in my hair as I slid my hips back and forth, my clit raking against him with each stroke. Leaning up, he claimed one nipple in his mouth and tweaked the other. I bore down on him, working his cock deeper as I ground against him, chasing my release.

I couldn’t stop, my breaths coming fast and hard, and my hips taking over. He pulled me down to him and grabbed my ass, pushing me against him so that each movement created even more delicious friction.

“I can’t last, not like this.” His words pushed through gritted teeth.

“I can’t stop. I’m coming.” My breath caught, my hips seized, and I came. He stole my cry with a hard kiss as I tumbled down the waterfall of bliss.

“I can feel you squeezing me. So good.” He thrust up hard, and his cock kicked inside me as he roared with his release. “Molly.” His fingers dug into my hips as I moaned through each perfect wave of pleasure.

“That’s my girl.” He stroked my back as I collapsed onto his chest. “That’s my Molly.”

We caught our breaths, both of us coming down from the high only we could create for each other.

“That was …”

He kissed my crown. “Perfect.”

“I was going to say ‘a good start.’”

He snorted. “What?”

I peered up at him through my lashes. “I just think maybe we should go again to make this official.”

He ran a hand through my hair and gripped. “I think you’re right, but this time, I’ll need to mount you ranch-style.”

I laughed against his chest. “You are filthy, Mr. Brady.”

“Up and over, darling.” He smacked my ass. “Up and over to seal the deal.”

* * *

We cuddled in front of the fire, Earl and Tanya snoring in harmony on the rug. Moonlight played across the blanket of white covering the ranch, and the Christmas tree gave off a friendly twinkle. I stared at the sapphire ring on my finger and wondered at the turn of events.

“Do you think Pop would be happy?”

“About you marrying an old roughneck like me?” He laughed. “I can’t say as I know.”

I smiled. “He loved you like a son. You know that as well as I do. I think he’d be pleased for us to be together.”

“That just strayed into some strange territory. I mean, if I’m like your brother, then—”

I slapped his arm. “You know what I meant!”

“I do.” He chuckled. “I think he’d be happy knowing that we found each other. And sometimes I wonder if he hadn’t wanted this all along. But you could never tell with him, you know?”

“He always said he wanted me to be happy, above anything else.”

“Are you?” The slight hint of tension in his voice calmed whatever worries I may have had. He cared enough to ask, and he was truly interested in my answer.

“More than I thought possible.”

“I love you.” He kissed the crown of my head and ran his fingertips up and down my arm. “More than I ever thought I could love anything. And thank you.”

“For what?” I turned and stared into his eyes, the flickering firelight warming them.

He kissed me, firm yet gentle, his mouth heating me more than the fire.

With one more press of his lips, he pulled back and ran his thumb down my cheek. “For giving me the best Christmas of my life.”

A Stepbrother for Christmas

Annalise

Trigger Warning: A Stepbrother for Christmas is a sweet tale with a few dubious consent elements that might upset some readers. Please skip it if you think it might kill your Christmas buzz!

I stomped around on the porch of the chalet. Snow clung to my boots and lay thick and deep on the surrounding slopes. The wind was bitter, slicing through my clothes and stinging my skin. I wasn’t dressed for the weather quite yet.

I’d just driven in from the airport. Mom had decided this Christmas would be best spent on the slopes of Aspen instead of in Dallas. I didn’t intend to come, especially since I had a lot of schoolwork over the Christmas break. This year, though, Mom wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

Once satisfied I wouldn’t leave a cold, wet trail through the rental, I opened the front door and dragged in my suitcase. Mom had gone to the trouble of setting up a Christmas tree, presents scattered at its base and overdone ornaments and ribbons choking whatever green was on its branches.

The chalet was homey, wooden beams and glass mixing to give an earthy and airy feel. The front windows gave a great view of the mountain and the town.

“Mom!” I called.

My stepfather, Brent, came around the corner and greeted me. “Annalise, my darling, how good to see you.” He gave me a warm hug, going on and on in his posh British accent about how much he’d missed me.

I’d always liked Brent. He’d married my mother five years prior. He was a great stepdad, caring and warm. He’d helped me make it through some tough times in high school and then again in college. He was handsome for his age and well respected in his professional community. My mom had definitely picked a good one – especially when compared with my absentee biological dad.

For all the good things Brent was, he only had one fault. It wasn’t a fault, really. He couldn’t help it. His son being a total dick wasn’t even Brent’s doing as far as I could tell. But Niles Tremaine, my stepbrother, was a total asshole. He’d tormented me ever since our parents got married. It was as if he blamed me for his mother’s death. He was always nasty to me, humiliating me in front of friends, dates, or anyone standing within a ten-foot radius. I never understood how the kindly Brent spawned such a demon.

The moment I heard Niles was going away to college in Oxford, England, I couldn’t be happier. I was able to spend my senior year of high school in peace. Then, thanks to a fortuitous series of events, I hadn’t crossed paths with him for the next two years. I still heard all about him, thanks to my mother bragging every chance she got about how he was a scholar at Oxford, on the rowing team, and on and on. I didn’t care what his grades were. He was an unrepentant asshole.

“Your mother has really outdone herself this year.” Brent waved his hand at the Christmas tree.

“I can see that.” I pulled my cap off, letting my dark hair fall freely down my back.

“Anna!” Mom rushed into the room, her usual ball of frenetic energy. Howie, her sheltie, was hot on her heels and barking with excitement. I leaned down to pet him and gave him a few “good boys” as he jumped around excitedly, his nails clicking on the hardwoods. He was getting older, but he was fluffy, fun, and operated under the mistaken belief he was still a small puppy.

When I stood, Mom gave me a full once over. Her eyes were a darker brown than mine, though her black hair was streaked with gray. Even so, she was still a looker. Tall and willowy with a dancer’s body. I was a little curvier, but had the height. Despite her grace, she hugged like a bear, and wasted no time crushing me in her embrace.

“Mom. Can’t. Breathe.”

She loosened up her grip and put her hand on my face. “You’re frozen! This isn’t Dallas.”

“Thanks for the pro tip.” I changed the subject before she got stuck on the subject of how I didn’t understand thermometers. “Tree looks great.”

Her eyes lit up. “You like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” I wondered if there was an actual tree up under all the garlands and bows.

“Well, Brent helped me quite a bit.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I just climbed the ladder around one hundred times or so.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Because you love me.”

“That I do.” His smile was lopsided and heartfelt.

I realized how much I missed them. School took all my time and I stayed away from the house whenever I heard Niles would be visiting.

Mom and Brent were a cute couple, the cutest really. But I didn’t need to be subjected to googoo eyes this early in the visit. I was spending two weeks with them. I tried to cut it to one because I was working on finishing my biology degree early so I could start med school. Mom guilted me into coming for the entire two weeks. She has a gift, that woman.

“I’m just going to go on upstairs.”

“I thought you were going to bring Gavin with you?” Brent asked.

Mom elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Oh, oh too right. I forgot. My apologies, darling. Can I help you upstairs with your bag?” Brent’s faced turned an interesting shade of crimson in only seconds.

Gavin was my ex-boyfriend. I’d dated him for a few months before we ended things. He just wasn’t the one. I liked him, we had a lot in common, but there was no spark, no fire. It didn’t really bother me to talk about it, but talking about my love life – or its untimely death, I supposed – with my parents was not happening.

“Which room is mine?” I clunked the bag up the stairs.

“Second door on the left, next to Niles’.”

I stopped, my foot almost missing the stair entirely. “Niles is coming?”

“Oh, he’s already here. Went to town to get some supplies, he said,” Mom trilled.

I slammed my bag to the top of the stairs, unable to hide my irritation.

Merry Frickin’ Christmas.

Niles

I swirled the coffee around, trying to cool it a bit before taking a sip. It had been a long trip over the pond, and even longer to get to Colorado. I was looking to relax for a few weeks, do some skiing, see my dad. I was almost finished with university, getting ready to seek a job in finance. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to come back to the States to be closer to my dad or stay in England where I’d made so many friends.

The coffeehouse traffic bustled around me, tourists streaming in and out for their coffee fix. The barista gave me a smile. She’d slipped me her number along with my coffee. She was certainly pretty enough, but I wasn’t here for a fling. I’d done enough of those at Oxford to last a lifetime. I smiled back at her before dropping my eyes. No point being rude.

The door opened with a jingling sound accompanied by a woman with a scarf, hat, and sunglasses. She was curvy and tall. I couldn’t quite see her face, but it had to be gorgeous like the rest of her. I straightened in my chair and ran a hand through my auburn locks, smoothing them down as best I could.

She shifted from one foot to the next as she waited to order. Her ass, a perfect plump orb, moved in her jeans. She had a small waist and her tits were high and large. My cock hardened in my pants as any number of inappropriate thoughts rushed through my mind. I licked my lips as heat rose along my skin.

She ordered her drink, a dizzying combination of flavors that I couldn’t follow, and turned toward the area where I sat. When she saw me she stiffened and reached for her sunglasses. She pulled them off and gave me a look that could melt lead.

Bloody hell. “Annalise?”

“Niles.” She moved away toward the bar area. To the barista, she said, “I need that in a to go cup, please. As soon as possible.”

Clearly, she’d wanted to sit in the shop for a while, but my mere presence was about to drive her back out into the cold again. I couldn’t blame her. I’d been a total wanker to her the entire time I’d lived with her and her mom in Dallas. I was in a bad head space at that time in my life. My mom had died two years before. I couldn’t forgive my father for remarrying. I took it out on Annalise. I knew that now. I’d thought so many times about how I might try to apologize, to make it up to her. But we were strangers now, more or less, and I didn’t want to reopen old wounds.

By the way she cringed away from me in the coffee shop, it appeared the wounds had never fully closed. And going three years without an apology from me? I was the biggest tosser this side of the Atlantic.

I stood and took a step toward her. She leaned away even though I was several meters from her. This was going to be slow going. Getting closer to her was clearly not an option. I resume my seat. She eyed me like I was a particularly loathsome rodent. I rubbed my hand over my jaw, desperately trying to figure out how to rectify a five-year mistake in five minutes over coffee.

When her order was up she thanked the pretty barista and took her drink. She gave me one more acidic glance and headed toward the door.

“Annalise,” I called.

She stopped.

“Please, I just want to talk is all.” I tried to give her my most winning smile.

She grimaced.

Fail.

The barista watched the scene with interest. She perked up at my accent. All the American women did. Except Annalise.

She seemed caught in a fight or flight instinct. Was I really that bad?

One look in her eyes told me yes, I really was.

“Please?” I dropped the smile and just tried to straight up grovel.

She relaxed a bit, her stance not quite as tense. The door opened, sending a blast of cold air onto her. She shied away from the chill, back toward the dining area. Back toward me.

She squared her shoulders, as if she were about to take on an entire rugby team, and approached. The frown on her face told me I was barely the winner in the Niles versus hypothermia battle.

She eased into the chair opposite me and continued her skeptical perusal.

“You’ve gotten big.”

She arched an eyebrow.

Good one, Niles.

“I mean, you’ve grown. Not that I’m saying you’ve grown like big. I mean, like, you’ve filled out and …” Stop, just stop talking.

She crossed her arms over her chest, which only made her breasts look bigger. Mayday, mayday.

I took a gulp of my too-hot coffee to avoid having to make any more sounds with my mouth. It burned like the fires of hell, but I didn’t make a peep. Christmas music piped through the speakers and did a poor job of covering the uncomfortable silence.

She’d sat with me. It would have to be enough. Besides, just busting out an apology with no explanation or build up didn’t seem to be the best move. Or did it? I couldn’t tell. All I knew was she was giving me a death glare I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from.

She took a small sip of her coffee and her gaze slid to the door. I was losing her. I couldn’t stall. It was now or never.

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyes opened wide and she set her coffee down so hard it geysered from the lid and landed with a slap in the floor.

“Sorry?” she hissed. “Sorry for tormenting me, calling me names, embarrassing me, spreading lies about me at school, getting other kids to call me ‘assless Anna’? I could go on, Niles.” She put a lethal dose of venom into my name.

She was right. I had been a rotten prick to her.

“I know. And you’re right to be angry.” I didn’t think she’d still be this angry, but I supposed what I thought didn’t matter at this point. “I was having a hard time with our parents’ marriage and I did and said things I never should have. I’ve wanted to apologize—”

The pretty barista came up and bent over to clean the spill. Her ass was in the air, her magenta thong clearly visible over the top of her jeans. I glanced away from it, but it was too late. Annalise had seen me looking.

“You can’t be serious right now.” Her voice rose, anger in each note. “You want me to come over here and sit while you try to explain how sorry you are for torturing me when we were teenagers and, just to put the cherry on top, you ogle the waitress? You think this is a joke? You think those years of you treating me like an ugly stepsister were funny?”

“Hey, I’m a barista, not a waitress.” Pretty barista really didn’t need to interject herself.

Annalise threw her hands up. “You know what? I’m done.” She grabbed her coffee and practically darted to the door. She looked back once. I don’t know why. But I saw the tears gleaming in her eyes and it tore at my heart. Then she was gone out into the cold.

Annalise

I stumbled out of the coffee shop, painful memories swirling through my mind. I thought I’d gotten over all of it, all of the horrible things Niles had said and done. I had no idea just seeing him would cause it all to come bubbling back to the surface. It didn’t help that when I first glanced at him, I thought he was a ridiculously handsome stranger. Then I realized it was him.

Having to sit with him and listen to him tell me how he was sorry? It was torture even if it was delivered in a posh accent.

I rushed to the street corner and waited for the light. Cars with red reindeer noses drove by on the slushy street. The chalet was a few blocks away. I couldn’t get there fast enough. It was freezing and I was desperate to lock myself in my room and calm down from the pain Niles inflicted. Just like old times.

I took a swig of coffee, desperately trying not to make a mess as my hands shook. The light finally turned and I crossed the street. I crunched through the gray snow and up onto the opposite curb. Then I struck up a quick stride, fighting against the sting of the wind. But compacted snow must have stuck to the soles of my flats, because one foot skidded out from under me and I was falling. I squeaked as both feet lost purchase.

Strong arms wrapped around me and put me back on my feet. I steadied myself and looked up at my savior. Bright blue eyes, square jaw, red hair – Niles.

“Thought you could use a little help.” His hand was still on my elbow, sending heat through the joint and up my arm. Something was in his eyes I’d never seen before. Warmth.

I shook my head. Three years couldn’t turn Satan to a saint. It was the same old Niles. I yanked my elbow away.

“Thank you. I can handle it from here.” I turned my back and kept walking.

I made it the next corner and waited on the light. He was behind me. I could feel him, as if the air between us was expanding and buffeting against me like a strong wind. I shot him a sharp look over my shoulder.

He shrugged. “We’re going to the same place.”

The sparkle in his eye was irritating. Yes, only irritating, nothing more. I turned back around and crossed with the light. He maintained a steady pace behind me, never coming to walk by my side. Good.

I reached the next corner and paused while other people crossed or waited for the light at the busy intersection. They were buzzing about Christmas shopping, lift passes, and skiing gear. All I could focus on was him. He edged closer as more people gathered at the corner. I scooted up closer to the curb. Traffic had ebbed and I wanted to cross, the light be damned.

Before I could step into the street, he put a hand on my waist and pulled me back. “Wait for the light.”

A car turned right in front of us. It would have hit me if I’d stepped down like I’d intended.

Damn. Niles was throwing off my headspace, making me do things that were beyond dumb.

I just needed to get to some sort of sanctuary where I could think straight. His hand was still on my waist, making any rational thought impossible. My hair stirred at my ear from his warm breath, scented with delicious coffee. His fingers pressed into me almost possessively. His chest was hard against my back as he kept me against him.

“Calm down, Annalise. I’m not going to hurt you. Not anymore.” It was a whisper I wanted to believe.

The light finally changed and we were moving. When his hand left my waist, I missed its pressure and warmth. Like an idiot.

The crowd spaced out as we reached the next corner and only a handful kept trudging up the slope along with Niles and me. We passed storefronts with ropes of garland and lights. Scents of peppermint and cinnamon flavored the air. I should have felt comforted. Instead, I felt on edge. My emotions were roiling. Niles didn’t seem like the boy I remembered. The one who stole my diary and read my most secret thoughts before throwing them back in my face. Red suffused my face at that particularly painful memory.

Maybe he was different. I granted him that. But would that be enough to make me reconsider anything? How much could a person really change?

“Annalise, please, just let me walk with you.” He stayed behind me, waiting for my permission. No, definitely not the Niles I remembered. The Niles of days past would have barreled past me, not caring if I fell on my ass. Actually, he would have preferred that outcome.

I slowed my pace. He matched me, still waiting for some sign of assent. I took a deep breath and waved my hand in a “come on” motion. He took the few steps between us and walked at my elbow. We moved along a bit slower than my previously frenzied pace. He smelled wonderful, like coffee and some sort of woodsy soap. I pushed my scarf further up, trying to cover my mouth and nose against the invading scent.

“Cold?”

Was that genuine concern in his voice, his blue eyes? I looked away quickly, staring up toward the chalet. I was frozen, my Dallas wardrobe no match for the mountain winds. But I just wanted to get out for a little walk and a lot of caffeine. A shiver shot through me.

Niles moved closer to my side. “Here.” He shrugged off his heavy coat.

“Wait. No.” I tried to scoot away. The last thing I wanted was help from Vile Niles. But he slung the warm coat around my shoulders. It was toasty and smelled even more like him. “Won’t you freeze.”

“No, I’m good. Really.” He was wearing a blue plaid button-down with some sort of thermal looking undershirt. His jeans were a dark blue, hitting his muscular frame in all the right places. Whoa. That was not the way to be thinking. Not at all.

“So, how’s school?” He asked, his elbow touching mine lightly as we ambled past the bustling storefronts.

“Fine.” I drew my arm closer. Touching was bad, especially when I couldn’t decide if I wanted to run or snuggle more deeply into the coat that smelled like him.

He sighed. “Okay. I get it. Walking’s enough for me.” He looked down into my eyes. “For now.”

A little thrill went up my spine at his words. Disgust, surely that was why.

We walked the rest of the way in silence. Ugly memories paraded through my mind but they were cut off by his hand at the small of my back when we maneuvered around some ice or the way he looked at me with concerned yet somehow hopeful eyes. Confusion settled over me like a fresh snow. I’d always believed that the best predictor of future behavior was past behavior. But Niles was destroying that paradigm moment by moment.

By the time we reached the chalet, the sun was already sinking behind the mountain, sending everything into shadow. The chalet was lit up, warm light pouring out of the wide windows. Mom’s Christmas tree glowed through the night, beautiful and overdone at the same time.

“Your mom went all out on the tree.” Niles opened the front door for me and stood back so I could pass. Who is this man?

“Yeah.” I entered the home, the smell of some sort of delicious food, spiced with citrus, hit me in the nose. The uphill walk back to the chalet had made me even hungrier. I stripped off Niles’ coat and handed it back to him. He took it and hung it on the pegs by the front door and held his hand out for my light jacket. I pulled it off along with my scarf and hat.

I caught his stare. He’d tensed as I’d removed the knit warmth piece by piece. He watched me intently now, his eyes hungry. I wanted to look away, to forget I saw that look. But I couldn’t. My heart pounded and my skin felt as if his hands were on it, touching and teasing. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and broke eye contact. He hung everything up and turned back to me, his eyes no longer giving anything away. Guarded.

“Anna?” Mom called.

I let out a breath, not even aware I’d been holding it. “Coming.”

I followed her voice through the living area and into the kitchen. Niles followed.

“Oh, there you are. And I see you found Niles.” Mom’s smile faltered.

“Yes. We got a coffee.”

“Together?” Mom flipped a browned fish filet in a pan with an obscene amount of butter. Brent was setting the table in the adjacent dining room.

“Not really.” I spotted an open bottle of red and beelined for it.

“With the fish, Anna?” Mom asked. “I thought we’d have a white.”

I didn’t care what color it was, I just needed alcohol. I poured a glass and took a decidedly unladylike gulp. Mom turned and watched me over her shoulder as she worked on the island cooktop. She raised an eyebrow in question. I shook my head. I couldn’t discuss anything right now, especially not with Niles in the room. She took the hint and returned to dinner.

Niles leaned against the door frame, not exactly relaxed. Handsome, though. Too handsome. I took another drink. Undeniably gorgeous. I drained the glass and poured another.

Brent walked past with a bowl of salad. “Go easy, Anna. We have to have enough wine to get sauced every night for two weeks. I’ll start rationing if necessary.”

I laughed and raised my glass to him. Niles smiled and began helping Brent with the food. Mom bossed me around a bit and we all fell into our roles. I had never been much of a cook, so getting the salad dressing and watching Mom make the risotto was the height of my participation. When it was all done, we sat down and dug in. I was across from Niles and made a point of not looking at him.

“So, Niles, tell us about your rowing team. I heard there was a competition or something that’s a big deal in England?” Mom asked.

Brent laughed and shook his head. “It’s much, much more than just a competition. The Boat Race is, is—” he leaned back in his chair, eyes misting beneath his glasses “—transcendent. My year with the blues, we beat Cambridge by a full thirty seconds. Thirty seconds, can you believe that? Those were the days, I tell you.”

“Blue?” I smiled, my body lighter than it had been all day. “So Oxford team is blue? Is Cambridge red, then?”

“We’re both blue, actually,” Niles said.

I took another drink of wine. Mom was nuts. This red went perfectly well with the fish she’d made. I giggled. “Both blue? What sort of crap? How do you even tell which team is which?”

“Oxford wears a more dignified darker blue, almost navy. Cambridge, tossers with no sense of style, wear some lighter blue. Hideous, really.” Brent took a respectable drink of wine.

Niles nodded in agreement.

“So you won?”

Niles raised his gaze to meet mine. “Yes, my team did.”

“Your team?” I laughed. “I’m shocked anyone would let you on a team with other normal human beings. Were they afraid you’d kill them in their sleep or something if they didn’t?”

The room fell silent and Mom dropped her fork onto her plate with a clink. “Anna! Apologize right this minute.”

“I won’t. You know what I mean, right Niles?”

He closed his eyes and when he opened them I saw pain there, pain I’d inflicted. I thought it would feel good, hurting him the way he’d hurt me so many times. Instead, I just felt sick.

“Annalise—”

“No, it’s okay, Ellen. Really.” Niles wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin down next to his half-finished meal. “I need to turn in. It was a long flight and I’m beat. Thanks for this lovely dinner. Delicious as always. Please excuse me.” He rose and squeezed his dad’s shoulder before leaving.

The room seemed to deflate, as if I’d stuck a pin in it. Mom took what was left of my wine and put it out of my reach.

“Really, Mom?” I rolled my eyes and tamped down my unease. Was she right?

“Yes, really Anna. Why would you say something so awful?”

I fisted my hands next to my plate. “Oh, I’m awful. Have you forgotten about how he treated me?”

“That was years ago, Anna. You’re two different people now, all grown up. It’s obvious he’s changed and so have you.” She neatly folded her napkin and gave me a pointed look. “But I don’t know if all of the changes were for the better.”

I winced at her words. She was my biggest cheerleader. Her words were a shock to my system. Was I being a jerk? I pushed back from the table.

“Anna, it’s okay. Stay—”

“No, Brent. It’s fine. I don’t want to ruin the rest of the dinner. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you two in the morning.” I didn’t look at Mom as I strode out with angry steps. Petty? Maybe.

The second I was out of the room, they began talking in low voices.

I climbed the stairs, tripping once before I made the landing. Niles’ door was closed. I stopped in front of it. Should I apologize? A chant of “assless Anna” ricocheted through my mind from my ninth grade year. No, definitely not apologizing. I went to my room and changed into a t-shirt and panties before going to the bathroom. It was a jack and jill between Niles’ room and mine. His door was closed.

A few of his items were on the counter – razor, toothbrush, and the delicious soap I kept smelling. I stilled and tried to listen for him. Nothing. He must have already been asleep. I brushed my teeth, trying not to think about what I’d said earlier. Once I was done in the bathroom, I slipped into the queen size bed. I was beat from the trip and admittedly a little drunk. Sleep took me quickly.

* * *

A weight settled on me. My eyes flew open. Red hair, blue eyes. Niles had his hand over my mouth.

“Be quiet, Anna. Let’s not wake our parents.”

Panic rose in my throat, but I didn’t make a sound. He removed his hand and stroked through my hair.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

He leaned in, his lips so close to mine. “I just wanted to apologize and do it right this time.”

“You call this doing it right?”

He laughed, low and seductive. “I saw the way you looked at me. And I’ve read your diary, remember? I know this is how you want it.”

I drew a hand from under the sheet to slap him but he caught my wrist and pinned it to the bed. My heart pumped double time and my clit began to tingle. He was right. This – what he was doing – was my kryptonite. I’d always had fantasies of being forced. No one had been able to deliver. That’s why all my relationships ended. But the fear mixing with exhilaration in my veins told me that Niles could give it to me.

“So let me make it up to you. Let me be your fantasy.” He bent his head to my neck and nipped at my skin lightly.

I couldn’t tell if I was in a dream or a nightmare. Perhaps a mix of both.

Could I do this? When he fastened his lips to my jugular and sucked, I arched to him. Yes, I could do this. That seemed to be all the answer he needed. He got to his knees and ripped my blankets away. He was shirtless, his tan skin smooth and beautiful in the low light.

Am I insane?

He grabbed my panties, fisting the material in his palm and ripping. I made a surprised sound and he was on top of me again, his hand slapped over my mouth.

“Not a sound,” he rasped in my ear.

He reached down with his other hand and before long, I felt his head at my entrance. I was so wet, from the moment I awoke to find him holding me down, to now. The sensation of his tip pushing into my innermost flesh thrilled me more deeply than I thought possible. He took a fistful of my hair in one hand and kept the other clapped over my mouth.

Even in the darkness of the room, I could see the intense look in his eyes. He was a predator and it was time to take what was his. Holy shit.

‘Scared, little slut?”

I nodded even as my pussy clenched at his dark tone.

“You don’t even know scared.” He pushed inside me, his hips surging forward.

I cried out against his hand at the quick pain and the flood of pleasure. He gave me only a second to adjust before he was pounding into me, fucking me harder than I’d ever been fucked in my life. I loved every stroke, every impact, every exhale of his breath as I moaned against his hand.

His mouth was at my earlobe, licking and biting. “I know you want this cock. Your slippery little cunt told me so.”

He punished me, making my pussy wetter and plumper with his rough treatment. I wrapped my legs around him, digging my heels into his surging back. The pain along my scalp only made everything more real, more blindingly erotic. He bit down on my neck and I shuddered beneath him, pleasure covering my senses like a net.

My hips were already seizing, getting closer and closer to the ecstasy his body promised. With each hard stroke, he jarred my clit further and further toward the edge.

“Are you going to come, slut?”

His dirty talk caused a sensory overload. My moans into his hand intensified as my throbbing pussy made it clear I was on the verge of sweet release. I had never gotten so high so fast before. He was like a shot of adrenaline, waking my body up from a long sleep.

He locked eyes with mine, owning my body, my mind. His jaw was tense, his eyes fierce.

“Fucking. Hot. Cunt.” He punctuated each word with an even harder stroke.

I froze, my body seizing as my pussy contracted and spasmed, holding onto his cock as he continued his punishing pace.

“That’s right. Come for me,” he grated into my ear. Then he grunted, low and masculine. His cock kicked inside me and he shoved as deep as he could. He gave a few more smooth strokes before pulling his hand from my mouth.

I gasped in deep gulps of air as he collapsed on top of me, his cock still embedded in my pussy.

“Holy shite, Anna.”

“Oh my god. Oh. My. God.” It was all I could say, all I could think. I was suddenly religious after his cock showed me the light.

He dropped kisses along the spots where he’d bitten me earlier. “I’m afraid I’ve left a few marks.”

His mouth was delicious on my stinging skin. He met my eyes, the predatory gaze gone. He was soft now, caring – more so than he’d ever been when we were younger.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Oh, yes. Yes, you did. In the best possible way. “No. I’m fine. Really. That was just so…”

What was it? I didn’t quite have a metaphor for what being rough fucked by your loathsome stepbrother was truly like.

“I know.” He brushed his lips over mine so softly – our first real kiss.

Then he rose. When his cock slid out, a frustrated sound caught in my throat.

“More, Anna?” He laughed, low and sensual. “Don’t get greedy on me. I have two weeks to make it all up to you.”

He pulled his pajama pants up and backed off the bed.

In the low light he looked like a dark sex god, one that could make my deepest desires come true. Hadn’t he?

He disappeared into the bathroom and clicked his door closed with a quietly called “goodnight.”

Niles

My heart raced as I lay back down. Her scent was still on my body, and I knew it would color my dreams with her. Of all the things I’d done in my life, creeping into her room was by far the ballsiest. My cock hardened just remembering how she looked when she was asleep. Her large breasts strained against the fabric of her t-shirt and her dark hair streamed next to her on the pillow. She was gorgeous, far more beautiful than I remembered.

I strummed my fingers across my chest. What did I remember? I remembered being a total tool to her. She was right. Everything she felt or thought about me came from experience and I couldn’t blame her for it. But then she’d let me take her somewhere I could tell she’d never been before.

The words from her diary came piling into my mind as I’d lain awake and listened to her get ready for bed.

I had my first time last night with Gill. It was short, but he tried to be sweet about it.

Gill and I had another fight. He wanted to do it again, but I asked him to do what I wanted. Pull my hair. Do it really hard. Make it feel like he was taking something from me. He freaked out.

Gill and I broke up. He said I was sick for wanting what I wanted. He said I’d never find a man who would treat me like that short of bondage freaks.

If I knew where Gill lived, I would have been more than happy to go there and beat him senseless for touching her, for starters. For finishers, I would stomp the shit out of him for making her feel like anything other than the amazing woman she was. But who was I to do any of that? I had no doubt I’d made Anna feel worse about herself than Gill ever could.

I turned over on my side and stared out the window at the falling snow and the all-encompassing darkness. I closed my eyes, her beautiful body imprinted on the insides of my eyelids. I couldn’t erase the past, but I could make it up to her in the present.

* * *

I’d slept better than I had in months. I dressed and went down to breakfast.

I took a deep breath and went into the kitchen. I didn’t know what to expect. My palms were damp and I wished I’d checked to see if Annalise was still in her room. Her door was closed, though, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome.

Howie sat in the doorway, blocking my path and demanding attention. I had to give it to him. He was a great dog – smart and loyal. I scratched his head and let him give me a few good licks on the cheek. Once satisfied, he trotted into the kitchen to look for any surprise human food that may have been dropped.

I followed to find Ellen, Dad, and Annalise all talking and laughing as Annalise tried to make pancakes. I winced at her technique. The finished product would definitely be crunchy given the amount of egg shell she was dripping into the batter.

When she noticed me, she looked up and pink spread along her cheeks. She looked like a winter wet dream. Long dark hair free down her back and her body encased in warm, white layers—form-fitting pants with a fleece top and a turtleneck beneath it. I was glad she thought to hide the marks on her neck. It might be difficult to explain to our parents how she managed to get a set of love bites overnight.

My heart sped up and banged against my ribs as she smiled at me. It was somehow shy despite what we’d shared the night before. Beautiful beyond belief, all the same.

Ellen cleared her throat and I realized I’d been gawking for an awkward amount of time.

I recovered under Ellen’s gaze. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“Anna is cooking some delicious pancakes. Quite fabulous, no doubt.” Dad winked at me.

“Looking forward to it. Can I help?”

“Go ahead and set the table.” Ellen looked between me and Anna, as if unsure whether we would start sparring again.

It depended on Annalise. Her beautiful smile told me one thing, but I didn’t know if her mouth would tell me another. After all, it was only one night and I had years and years to make up for. The thought made me grin.

“What’s gotten into you this morning?” Dad clapped me on the back and sank into his chair.

“Just glad to be back Stateside I guess.”

“It grows on you, doesn’t it? I don’t miss much – maybe hot cross buns and tea time – but this—” he waved his hand toward the women in the kitchen “—is far better than anything I could have ever imagined. Worth it, yeah?”

For the first time, I actually agreed with him on the point. One glance back at the snow white dream in the kitchen cemented it. I was happy to be back, and the reason was making a mess of pancake batter.

“Yeah.” I sat down and watched Ellen try, and fail, to teach Annalise how to prepare breakfast. Ellen eventually took over and Annalise came and sat at the table with us.

She tucked a dark lock behind her ear and sipped at a steaming mug of coffee.

“Ready?” Dad unfolded his newspaper.

“We’re not still doing that are we?” Annalise asked, mock exasperation in her tone.

“Well, if you can’t handle it anymore. American education ruining your mind and all that, then I suppose I’ll have to represent the dark blue and handle the crossword myself.” Dad drew a stub pencil from his pocket.

“Pencil?” Annalise snorted. “Amateur.” She scooted her chair closer to his and they went to work.

This brought back memories. The two of them, both with their brows wrinkled in concentration, every Sunday morning. I’d hated it when I was younger, the way Dad somehow had a bond with Annalise that he never had with me. Now I realized it was a good thing. Their bond was strong, something different yet somehow the same as my bond with him.

“That’s not even a word.” Annalise laughed, the sound smoothing away the bad memories and leaving only butterflies darting around in my stomach.

Ellen came in carrying a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. “Eat up. I might think twice about the pancakes, though.”

“Oh, come on, Mom. I’m sure they’re fine.” Annalise paused the crossword and started serving out the food. When she took her first bite of pancake, she brought her napkin up and spit the bite right back out.

Laughter filled the dining room.

“Oh, shut up, all of you.” Annalise smiled despite her words. The daggers from the previous night’s dinner were gone. Instead, she was radiant, happy.

I may have given Howie a few bites of my pancake. He didn’t seem to mind the consistency.

We had a good breakfast, discussing the skiing and shopping we planned for the day. I intended to ski. The slopes were calling, the bitter wind from the previous day having died down overnight. The sun was out, making all the white gleam to a blinding shine.

“Well, I intend to hit Main Street.” Ellen put the last of the plates in the sink. “Hard.”

“Oh, dear.” Dad kissed her on the top of her head. “I can already feel my pockets getting lighter.”

“You coming, Anna?” Ellen asked.

“I think I’m ready to stretch my legs and do some skiing. It’s been a while.” She shimmied past where I stood in the doorframe. Her heat was there for a second and then gone, leaving me wanting. Her hair smelled like an intoxicating floral bouquet. It lingered in my nose, stealing any thoughts I’d had for a second.

“I think maybe I’ll shop with you today.” Dad said and draped his hands around her shoulders.

“You just want to keep me on a credit card leash.”

Dad smiled. “Even so, my love.”

I followed Annalise into the front hallway. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and donned her ski gear. I followed suit, insulating myself against the invigorating chill. The chalet was close to the gondola, so we went ahead and put on our ski boots.

I kept watching her move, the seductive lines of her body. I wished we were somewhere more private where I could be stripping her clothes off instead of the other way around. She avoided my gaze though I could see the color in her cheeks. It set me on fire.

Ellen and Dad bustled in behind us and threw on their jackets and scarves.

“Well, we’re off. Be careful out on the slopes, kids.” Ellen gave each of us a kiss on the cheek before taking Dad’s arm and heading down the stairs. The door swung closed behind them, leaving Annalise and I alone.

I’d reached for the skis, my hand already resting on them. But when I lifted them, she looked up. Her gaze met mine and I saw the sudden blaze. I dropped the skis and took her in my arms before pressing a possessive kiss on her lips. She tried to back away, to escape me. Not happening. I squeezed her in my arms and forced her lips apart, pushing my tongue deeply into her mouth.

She beat at my sides, trying to escape my grasp. I pushed her away and turned her around before slamming her back into my chest and wrapping one hand around her throat. I worked my fingers under her turtleneck so it was skin on skin contact and tightened my grip. In one rough move, I shoved my hand down her pants and into her panties.

Just as I suspected, her panties were already soaked.

“Niles, please.”

I tightened my hand until she was barely breathing and leaning against me as I swirled my fingers around her hot, wet clit. I slipped a finger inside her and her pussy clenched me in tighter. I didn’t want it to be my finger. I needed it to be my cock that was already throbbing hard as a rock in my pants.

“Be a good girl for me,” I whispered in her ear. “If you run, I’ll catch you and punish you.”

I stroked her clit harder. “Are you going to be good?”

She nodded. I released her throat and dropped to my knees so her ass was at eye level. I gripped her pants and panties and ripped them down her legs, revealing her beautiful plump ass. I yanked them all the way down past her knees. I needed my mouth buried in her sweet pussy lips, her juices running down my throat.

“Bend over.”

She didn’t move. I ran my hand up her leg, inner thigh, and then forced it into her wet heat. She squealed at the intrusion. I’d never felt anything more perfect.

“Over, Anna. Right now or you won’t like what happens next.” What happened next would be me balls deep in her pussy while I rough fucked her against the front door as she screamed.

Slowly, she obeyed.

“Good girl.”

The further over she went, the more her pussy opened up to me. I removed my fingers from her and put a hand on either side of her ass. Her asshole was a little hidden flower right above her glistening pussy.

I couldn’t control myself. I buried my face in her ass, and licked all of the wrinkled skin around her tight hole. I snaked my tongue down to her cunt to get a taste and licked her asshole as she moaned and shuddered. My cock strained against my pants, demanding to be inside where my tongue held sway.

She trembled, squeals turning to moans as my tongue pushed inside her wet heat. She gripped me, her body making promises my cock was desperate to take her up on. I slid my tongue even farther, to the hot bud desperate for attention. She jerked when I started flicking it, teasing it.

I gripped her thighs, not caring what sort of marks I was leaving. She was mine. I would mark her any way I wanted. I wanted to make her come like that, but my cock would not be denied any longer. After a few more licks I stood and grabbed her around the waist. I pushed her forward onto the stairs and ripped her pants and panties the rest of the way off. She was totally bare, her pussy swollen and ready. I couldn’t have stopped if I’d tried.

I pulled her up by her hair and stripped her shirt off before gripping the back of her bra and yanking the material apart.

“Niles!”

I ignored her protest and shucked the bra off. Then I reached around and palmed both her tits as I fastened my teeth at her neck. She tasted sweet and slightly salty, her body covered with a fine sheen of sweat. I would cover her with more than that.

I kneaded her tits and then grabbed the hard nipples between my thumb and forefinger. I twisted and pinched. She shuddered and moaned as I licked up her neck and made even more love bites along her fair skin. I switched to her other side, all the while still squeezing and pinching her. Once satisfied I’d marked her, I released her and pushed her down.

I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. She looked at me over her shoulder, her eyes a euphoric mix of desire and fear. She was perfectly situated one stair up, her pussy ready for my cock. I moved to her and pressed my head to her folds. She froze for a moment then took off. One stair, then another. I was on top of her in seconds. When I captured her, she cried out, the sound going straight to my cock.

“Niles, don’t,” she said, but her pussy was hot and wet. I knew she wanted it. I knew she wanted me to take it.

I gripped her hips hard. She needed to understand she was mine now. When we were together like this, I owned her. I raised a hand and brought it down on her ass with a loud crack. She squealed, and I was pleased to see my red handprint on her skin. I did it again, marking her other perfect ass cheek and she let out a strangled scream.

“I own you, Anna. All of you.” I slapped her again, another cry from her lips.

“Say it.” Slap.

“Say it, Anna. I won’t stop until I hear it.” Slap.

She turned to look back at me, tears in her eyes warring with the lust.

“You own me.” Her breathy declaration was all I needed.

“Fuck right I do.” I pushed my head inside her wet cunt, the constriction exquisite.

Her moan echoed up the stairs. All I could feel was her. All I could see, all I could think – her. I moved further inside, my legs straining with the need to fuck her raw. She rocked back into me, pushing me even deeper. Bloody hell. I reached up and took a handful of her hair, pulling her back into me as I started a steady rhythm.

She was so perfectly slick that I slid with no problem, my tip hitting her deepest part. Her breathing was fast. I was flat out panting, overwhelmed by the woman I had under my control and impaled on my cock. I gripped her hip and began slamming into her, yanking her onto my cock with each hard stroke.

We were in a direct line of sight from the front door. If Ellen or Dad came back for any reason, they’d get a front row view of us fucking. I didn’t care. I wouldn’t stop. Her body wouldn’t let me. Our skin slapped and her moans grew louder. A tinkling sound mimicked our rhythm and I realized we were shaking the bells on the Christmas tree nearby. I should have thought it was funny, should have laughed. Instead, I pounded her harder, giving the bells a run for their money as her pussy tightened around me.

“You are such a hot little cunt, aren’t you?” I gritted the words from between my teeth.

She responded by moving back harder against me and moaning low in her throat. I wanted to keep that sound to myself, to never let anyone else hear it. When she said I owned her, it wasn’t just words. It was the truth. Emboldened by the thought, I pulled her up so her back was to my chest. I bit down on her shoulder as I kept my quick pace. I slid a hand down her stomach and stroked her hard nub, swollen and needy for my touch.

“Yes, please,” she breathed.

I obliged, strumming her clit even as my balls drew up against me, desperate to shoot my load. Her muscles quivered and her pussy clamped down on me. I sucked her skin between my teeth.

“Don’t come until I say, little slut.”

“I can’t stop. P-please, Niles.”

“No. Not until I say. Not until my cock is spurting my cum deep in your pussy.”

“Oh my god, Niles.” Her voice was desperate and my name on her lips sent me over the edge too soon.

My cock surged inside her.

“Come. Now.”

She came on a strangled scream, her pussy milking me as I pumped in jerky thrusts, the pleasure short-circuiting any smooth movements. I plunged into her until every last drop was gone. She fell forward and caught herself with her hands. She gave me a look over her shoulder, her eyes glazed with the same euphoria I felt in my bones.

I had bitten into her shoulder harder than I’d intended, leaving a half moon along the top and back. Instead of regret, I felt pride. She was mine. She should bear my marks, just like the ones on her ass from my palms.

She scooted up the stairs, and I winced when my cock slid from its favorite spot. I gripped her hips and ripped her back to me. I crushed her in my arms and kissing her neck, gently this time.

“Did I hurt you?” I whispered in her ear.

“No, I just. I need to—”

“I need you to know I’ll never hurt you again, Anna.” I meant every word.

She sighed as I kissed up her earlobe and smoothed my hands around her waist. “I want to believe you. I do. But this … this thing we’re doing. Whatever it is. It doesn’t change the past.”

“I can’t change it. It’s true. But I can make it up to you. I keep trying. What else can I do?”

She relaxed against me the slightest bit. “You’re definitely making a grade-A effort. I’ll give you that.” The smile in her voice soothed my frantic heartbeat.

“Good. I’ll keep making it as long as you let me.”

“No promises, Niles.”

“Right.” I smiled, my heart warming at the sliver of a chance she was giving me. “No promises.”

Annalise

I stared hard at my reflection. I’d cleaned up and gotten dressed—again—after the incident on the stairs. Niles was waiting for me, but I was trying to figure out who was staring back at me from the mirror.

I had just let Niles fuck me not once, but twice. I shook my head, doing my best to ignore the patches of pink high on my cheeks, the slightest hint of exhilaration still flowing through my heart. What am I doing?

Fucking your stepbrother over Christmas break was taking the “good will toward men” part of the season too far. I groaned when I thought about what Mom and Brent would think if they found out. Mortification spread throughout my body, tamping down the rushing endorphins of only moments before. I needed to stop this, to put an end to what was going on between Niles and me.

“Anna?” Niles’ voice floated up the stairs and into my room.

“Coming!” I yelled back and then realized what I’d said. Palm meet forehead.

Thankfully he didn’t say anything as I hurried down the stairs and past him. He did smile, though. I had never realized what a gorgeous smile he had, how the dimples appeared and made him even more boyishly handsome. Stop, Anna.

I donned my scarf, hat, and gloves. Niles was ready to go, holding our skis and poles. I hadn’t intended to ski all day with him. But I wouldn’t get too far without my skis.

He leaned the equipment against his chest and pulled the door open for me, mischief still in his baby blues. “After you, as always.”

I strode out and down the steps. He followed behind and we crossed the street toward the gondola entrance. He put his hand at my lower back, guiding me around the other skiers and past the icy patches. I didn’t need his help, but something about the slight pressure at my lower back comforted me. The ache inside reminded me of what we’d just done, but somehow his steady hand spoke more about our newfound truce. Well, if rough sex under our parents’ noses could be called a “truce.”

We got in line to ride up, families crowding inside, waiting for the next gondola. He was at my back, his warm breath playing at my ear. It was as if all my nerve endings belonged to him or were somehow attuned only to him. I strained to hear any change in his breathing to sense any shift in his body.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah.” We stepped into the gondola. He took the seat right next to me and threw his arm around my shoulders. It was easy, right.

Two giggling girls took the seats opposite us. They both stopped chattering for a moment and gawked at Niles. I glanced over at him. He wasn’t looking at the blondes. His gaze was glued to me. He gave an easy smile and squeezed my shoulder.

We began our trip up the mountain. The snow was thick and white beneath us, only ski lines marring the smooth surface. Niles kept his arm around me, keeping me grounded even as we floated up and away to the middle of the mountain. The two girls chattered — talking about their plans for the rest of the day or what they wanted for Christmas.

The sounds faded to the background and all I could sense was him right next to me. The man who’d made me come harder than I ever had in my life. I shook my head, as if that would clear it.

“It’s okay, Anna. Don’t overthink it.” His low voice was steady and soothing and his pressure increased on my shoulder, warmth transferring from him to me.

How could he know the storm roiling inside me? And worse, how could he know to say exactly what I needed to hear?

“Are you, um, are you single?” one of the blondes blurted. It appeared she’d surreptitiously unzipped the top of her ski jacket during our ride so that her cleavage was proudly displayed.

Niles pulled me into his side. “Do I look single?”

Blondie frowned and zipped up her jacket. Her cohort snickered until Blondie elbowed her in the ribs.

We rode the rest of the way in silence, though my smile may have spoken louder than words.

Once we came to a stop, the blondes exited in a huff. Niles led me out and we sat to get our skis situated. He was attentive, helping me snap everything in place before starting on his own skis. I stared down at his thick red hair, made markedly brighter by the backdrop of white. When he looked up at me with his sapphire eyes, a host of butterflies sprang up in my stomach.

“All set?” He stepped into his skis.

“Yes.”

“Which run are you feeling?”

“Oh, we don’t have to, I mean, you don’t have to go on the slopes with me. I stick to the medium runs, blues mostly. You’re probably more of a double black diamond guy or something.” I wanted him to stay with me, but I didn’t want to ruin his day with the bunny hills.

“Blues are fine by me. If you remember, dark blues are my thing.” He winked, devilish and handsome.

“Are we back to the rowing again?” I laughed. “Blue versus blue?”

“Indeed we are. I’m glad things can always come back around to what’s most important in life.” He stood and readied his poles. “After you, my lady.”

I took off, gliding up the slope until we reached the open ski lift. After a short wait, we hopped on and sailed up the mountain a bit further. The sun was high and bright, the snow beneath us blinding.

“Perfect day to ski.” He put his hand on my knee and massaged it, his long fingers splayed against the white of my pants.

“I know. Brent and Mom should have saved shopping for later.” I didn’t know what I’d actually said. I could only think about his hand on my knee, his fingers, the way they’d been inside me not that much earlier.

“What slope are you thinking?”

“Pussyfoot,” I answered, once again, without thinking.

He laughed and moved his hand further up my thigh just a bit. Thank god I had clamped my oversized Jackie-O sunglasses on or he would have seen the intense red blush that crept into my cheeks.

“That’s one of my favorites, as well.”

I know.

Reality was muffled, the only sound the wind and the only sensation his hand on my leg, rubbing circles against my inner thigh. I slid from the lift and onto the platform, and he followed. We skied to the top of the run.

Before I could start down, he tightened up the scarf around my neck. Then he pulled a tube of lip protectant from his pocket and smoothed it along my lips. Strangely erotic, he looked into my eyes as he did it. I should have felt ridiculous – a grown woman getting babied like that – but I felt protected, happy even.

Once he was done with my lips, he quickly smoothed some on his own and stowed it back into his pocket.

“Ready?” he smiled and my breath caught.

“Yes.” He was melting me bit by bit, just a snowman on a hot day.

I broke my gaze and looked down the slope. The snow was perfect, still smooth from a recent grooming.

I pushed my poles into the powder and stroked lightly down the slope. Niles was at my elbow in a moment, both of us gliding easily down the curving trail of white. The wind hummed through the trees along the edges and chilled the few spots of exposed skin on my face. I didn’t care. The feeling of easy speed was exhilarating. There were only a few other skiers around us, leaving us in our own little bubble.

“Never knew simply sliding down a hill could be so much fun, yeah?” he said over the sound of our skis.

“I’ve never really thought about it like that, but I guess that’s what we’re doing.” I laughed.

He returned my smile before digging in his poles and shooting out ahead. He looked back and waggled his eyebrows. A challenge. He may have been a double black diamond skier, but he wasn’t going to beat me on my favorite run.

I dug my poles in and shot down after him. He turned back forward and got serious, pushing himself farther out in front. I tucked in, and flew down, right on his tail. He glanced over his shoulder, a look of surprise on his face at how close I’d already gotten. Then he dug in harder and faster, both of us flying past other skiers as Niles called out “on the left” or “on the right” as we went.

I had always been competitive. In school, in soccer, in anything that I felt I excelled at. I didn’t excel at skiing, but I would be damned if I would let Niles beat me.

I pumped my arms, digging the poles in even as they skittered along the surface. We were racing down the mountain, the scenery blurring in a green and white wave of speed. My heart was pumping and my knees started to burn from the tension. I bent them further and leaned into it, barreling ahead and getting to Niles’ elbow.

He glanced to me, a smile plastered in his face. There was a matching one on mine as we stopped pushing and simply let the hill take us. We glided over the snow, the whisper and whir of our skis the only competing sound with the wind.

We reached the part where the hill turned slightly to the right and joined the main run. He looked over at me, now neck and neck. He didn’t see the skier in red who’d eased into the run only a few feet ahead of him. I screamed, but it was too late. The impact sent the red skier onto his back and Niles went flying.

Niles

I didn’t pass out. I wished I had, but I didn’t. I slid down the snow on my back before friction finally made an appearance and slowed me down. My sunglasses were long gone and the sun was blinding me. Pain radiated from my left leg, along with less intense aches from other parts of my body.

“Niles!” Anna’s voice, or rather a scream.

I was still sliding, lazily now. Then I bumped into something. It blocked the sun. Big and blue, it was talking to me.

“—quite a spill. You okay? Ski patrol will be here in a minute.”

Anna appeared above me and she dropped to her knees at my side. She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and showed me her beautiful eyes. I smiled, but I think it came across as more of a wince.

“Oh my god, Niles. Are you okay? What hurts?”

“How’s the other guy?” I tried to sit up, but couldn’t quite make it.

Anna pressed a hand to my shoulder. “Lie still. I’m going to check you. What hurts the worst?” She was so close, the concern in her eyes lighting me up from the inside.

“The other guy?”

“He’s fine, Niles.” She blew a strand of hair out of her face in one sexy, exasperated move. “Just had the wind knocked out of him. Now, where?”

She peered into my eyes, one after the other.

“Left calf.”

She disappeared from my view and I cursed. Pressure at my knee and then lower, her small hands working deftly. The pain grew the further she went until I groaned.

“It’s broken.” She came back in my field of vision. I smiled.

“That’s not a good thing, Niles.” She frowned.

“I know. I just—”

“I see ski patrol further up the run. They’ll be here in a minute.” The big blue bear of a man was still standing off to the side, watching and directing traffic.

“Where else hurts?” She ran her hands along my chest and down to my abs. “Any of this bother you?”

“No, but keep going with the massage.”

She rolled her eyes but still gave me a small smile before feeling down my arms. I was achy, but nothing held a candle to the pain in my leg. The cold of the snow seeped into my back and I wanted to sit up, but I didn’t try it lest I make my nurse angry.

“There’s another spot, too.”

She paused and looked at me expectantly.

“Just south of my navel and north of my upper thighs.”

The big blue bear laughed. Anna smacked me on the arm and then held her hand to her mouth with horror.

She looked like a snow angel. “It’s okay, Anna. I had that hit coming.”

“He did,” agreed blue bear.

The purr of an engine approached, and it wasn’t long before I was loaded up and carted down the mountain. Anna rode along with me, worry painting her face and coloring her dark eyes.

At the ER and then before surgery, she held my hand and kept a watch. It was as if she’d already gone into doctor mode.

She was even waiting when I woke up from surgery, along with Dad and a worried Ellen.

Ellen hugged my neck with the strength of ten blue bears. When my eyes started to bulge, Dad pulled her away and I lay back against the stack of pillows in the hospital bed. Anna held my other hand.

“Well at least you’re getting along with your sister.” Dad smiled.

Anna cringed and let my hand go. I wanted to grab it back.

“I meant it as a compliment, Annalise.”

“Who cares?” Ellen asked. “I’m just glad we’re all in one piece. Well, we all are now thanks to the rod in your leg.”

Anna backed away from the bed and sat. She looked drained.

I glanced at the windows behind her. It was dark outside.

“What time is it?” The haze from the meds was still clouding things for me.

“A little after ten.” Dad patted me on the arm. “Glad you’re all right, son.”

“Thanks.” I couldn’t take my eyes off Anna. I wanted her to rest, to stop worrying, to give me her smile again.

“That late already?” Ellen asked and then swore under her breath. “Oh no, Howie hasn’t been out in ages!”

“You stay here. I’ll go and let him out.” Dad picked up his coat from the sofa near the door.

“No.” I shook my head. “Everyone go home and get some sleep. I’ll be fine.”

Ellen put her hands on her hips, a classic stonewall move of hers. “Someone should stay, Niles, what if—”

“I’ll stay.” Anna leaned back in her chair, apparently unwilling to budge.

“Are you sure?” Ellen glanced from me to Anna, trepidation in her eyes.

“It’s fine Mom, really. I need to get used to all this if I’m going to go to med school, right?”

“Well …”

Dad looked from me to Anna and smiled the slightest bit. “I think they’ll be all right. Come on, let’s go. We’ll have the house to ourselves. Maybe we can get up to some funny business.”

Ellen blushed. “Brent! At a time like this when your son is—hang on—what are you…”

Ellen kept scolding even as she allowed dad to help her with her coat and led her to the door.

“See you in the morning.” Dad gave a knowing look from Anna and back to me again before escorting a tittering Ellen from the room.

“That still grosses me out.” Anna propped her head on her hand.

“What, our parents getting it on?”

Anna groaned. “Yes, that.” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms.

“Come on.” I shifted over, ignoring the pain radiating from the cast on my leg. It was a dull ache, whatever pain medicine they’d given me doing its job.

She shook her head. “I’ll just sleep on the couch over there.” But then she met my eyes, and I could see she was tempted.

I scooted further and groaned. She was up in an instant, leaning over me. “What, what happened? Do you need more pillows?”

My plan worked. She was close enough so I could grab her and drag her over the rail. She squeaked with surprise as I settled her into the bed next to me.

“Gotcha.” I lay back, somehow drained from that small exertion.

“I can’t sleep in your bed—”

“You can and you will.” I inhaled her scent – some sort of fruity lotion and her shampoo. “I need to be attended to and you’re just the pre-med student to do it.”

She tried to sit up and away from me, but I clamped my hand on her like a vise.

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay, Niles. I’ll stay. Just let me take my jacket off. And my shoes.”

“That’s more like it.” I relaxed and watched her strip off her outer layer. Her breasts were perfectly round against her fleecy top, begging to be touched. “Get under the covers.”

“No.” She stripped her shoes off and tossed them next to the bed.

I gripped the sheet and ripped it from under her like a magician with a tablecloth. “Yes. Get under here with me.”

“What if the nurse comes i—”

The door swung open, and a nurse came in, right on cue. Dark skin and eyes, she had a friendly smile and a clipboard. She grinned when she saw Anna and me snuggling in the bed. Anna stiffened and moved away. Not a chance. I pulled her into my side.

“Nothing better than a little company when you’re trying to recover.” The nurse shuffled up to me and checked the machine hooked up to my IV. “You’re still getting pain meds – the good stuff – for the next couple of hours. Enjoy it while you can.” She fiddled with some buttons and the machine beeped.

“All right. You’re all set. You two need anything, just hit the call button and I’ll be in here in two shakes. Try and get some rest.” She marked a few things off her clipboard. Then she winked at me and squeaked her rubber soles away from us before hitting the lights and pulling the door closed.

“Alone at last.” I relaxed and hit the button to lay the bed all the way back. “Get comfy, Anna. I want you here when I wake up. If you’re not, this cast won’t stop me from punishing you and enjoying every second of it.”

A sound caught in her throat at the threat and my cock twitched. But the swirl of morphine or whatever it was coursed through my blood made my eyes close. She settled in next to me, snuggling into my side but careful not to touch my cast. I pulled her tighter, forcing her to put her head on my chest. The tendrils of her hair tickled my nose as I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The nurse was back. “Didn’t mean to wake you sugar,” she whispered.

Anna slept soundly on my chest. I blinked hard a few times and the dull ache in my leg went up a few notches.

I must have grimaced because the nurse said, “We’ve cut out the hard stuff, but I just pushed something different in your IV. Not as strong, but it should kick in shortly.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

“About three a.m. or so. I’ll be back around in a couple hours. Get on back to sleep.” She glanced down to Anna. “She looks like a perfect angel, you know that?”

“She is.”

The nurse smiled, warm and wise. “That’s the right answer, young man.” Then she left, once again closing the door.

Anna shifted on my chest and moved her head to rest into the crook of my neck. Her tits pressed into my side and her knee was slung over my thigh. Her breaths against my skin were like a spark. The spark turned into embers, and when she made a soft sigh in her sleep, I was alight.

The pain in my leg was nothing compared to my demanding shaft. It tented my hospital gown and the sheet on top of it.

“Anna,” I whispered and kissed the crown of her head. I smoothed my hand up and down her back and she moved against me, pressing her tits even harder into my side.

Her hand smoothed across my chest. I grabbed it and moved it down to my cock. I wrapped her fingers around my shaft and groaned at the feeling. She let out a gasp and woke.

She looked up at me. “What are you—”

I claimed her mouth and kept my hand on top of hers, moving her fingers up and down, from base to tip. Each stroke had my hips straining upward. I didn’t feel my leg. All I felt was the pleasure in her grip. I licked along her lips and sank my tongue inside. She moaned and began stroking me herself. I let go and reached to her hair, grabbing a handful and crushing her to me as her hand worked my cock.

She couldn’t get her hand all the way closed around my length, but she was trying, increasing the delicious pressure moment by moment. I could have come just from her hand, but I wanted more. I wanted her on top of me, her slick cunt milking me.

I broke our kiss. “Strip.”

She glanced to the door. “But the nurse—”

“Won’t be back for hours.” I pushed her until she was sitting and started yanking the hem of her shirt up.

“But the door doesn’t lock!” she hissed and tried to slap my hand away.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair close to her scalp. “My leg’s broken, but I’ll still master you, Anna. I know your panties get wet when I say that. I want them to. It’s true. So you can either fight me and lose anyway or cooperate. I would generally prefer your fight, but the leg makes it a bit more difficult.”

She glanced down to the cast hidden beneath the sheet and propped up on pillows.

“You are going to be naked, your tits bouncing as you ride my cock, one way or another.” I yanked her shirt up again.

She sighed, seemingly resigned to her fate. I would have fought her and spanked her plump ass, but this way was easier given the circumstances. We’d have plenty of time for discipline once I’d healed up.

She peeled her shirt off and unhooked her bra. She glanced to the door every so often. That would stop as soon as she slid down on my cock. Her smell surrounded me and I wanted to taste between her legs.

She got to her knees and unbuttoned her pants, pushing them and her panties down before working them off. I fisted my cock as she undressed, as bit by bit of her gorgeous body came into my greedy view.

I ran my hand up and down my length, pretending it was her small hand again. I pushed the sheet down and her gaze locked on my slick head. When her tongue darted to her lips, I couldn’t take another second without her being impaled on me.

“Straddle me.”

She hesitated. I put my free hand around her pretty neck. “Do it, Anna.”

She swallowed and opened her mouth to protest. I squeezed. She didn’t say a word. She slowly straddled me, taking care not to touch my cast. At that point, I didn’t give a shit if she kicked the damn thing as long as I was balls deep in her cunt within the next five seconds.

I released her neck and hit the button on the bed to put me in more of a sitting position. Her tits needed to be in my mouth as she rode me. I flicked on the light behind us, a soft glow in the dark room, then I yanked off my hospital shift, the snap buttons popping loose easily, and dropped it to the floor.

Tucking my thumb beneath my cock, I positioned it straight up. She eased onto it. I didn’t want slow, I wanted it all. Right then. I let go of the button on the bed and gripped her shoulder, pushing her down until every inch of me was embedded inside her slick pussy. She bit her lip and moaned, but I couldn’t stop. I licked up her collar bone as she adjusted, her cunt squeezing me in the most pleasant vise.

I gripped her hips and lifted her before sliding her back down to earth. “That’s it.” My fingers would bruise her. I didn’t care. Her body was mine.

Her tits rubbed against my chest, the nipples demanding attention, and I would bloody well give it. I nuzzled down her chest until I came to the soft flesh. I bit into her breast lightly, leaving teeth marks on the ripe tip. She moaned and kept the pace I’d set for her, working my cock in and out.

I nipped at her dusky nipple, teasing it lightly. Her hips momentarily lost their rhythm and she moaned, but my hands guided her back to it. I lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped, her ass slapping against my thighs. She hadn’t looked at the door once since I took up residence inside her, where I belonged.

Her dark eyes were focused on me. Her breaths were shallowing and she squealed when I bit down on her budded peak. I didn’t let up, rolling it back and forth between my teeth as she bounced on my cock.

Her moans grew louder and she threw her head back. I thrust up into her harder and harder as she plummeted onto my shaft. I released her nipple and sucked her breast into my mouth. I latched onto her perfect tit and lashed her with my tongue as my balls drew up, ready to shoot my load inside her. I refused, not until she was crying my name. I wanted her gone, checked out of her headspace and awash in nothing but the feeling of me inside her, beneath her, all over her.

“Such a hot slut, riding this cock.”

Her eyes lit when I talked dirty, upping the fire even higher.

She ran her hands through my hair and gripped, the sting of sensation spurring my hips faster, harder. I wanted to punish her, needed her to know I was the one in control even as she rode me. I moved my hand to her clit and rubbed the swollen numb with my thumb.

She moaned, the sound echoing around the room and likely audible in the hallway. I loved every single second of it.

“You going to come for me, Anna?”

“Yes.” It was a breath prayer more than an answer.

“Come all over my cock like a good girl?”

“Yes, please.” Her voice was sex. My shaft pulsed, desperate to coat her cunt with my seed.

“Say my name, Anna. Say it when you come. I want to hear who’s making you feel so good.” I pressed harder against her clit and rubbed up and down to her quickening rhythm.

“It’s you. You. I need to come. I’m there. Please.”

God, I loved it when she begged. I intended to make her beg so many more times. Enough to fill every nook and cranny of my mind with her words, her whimpers.

I surged up, getting every last bit of contact as her tight cunt throttled my cock.

“Say it and you can come, Anna. Who’s making you come?”

“Nile—” The word turned into a strangled cry as she rocketed down onto my cock and let go. Her pussy crushed me as she repeated my name, her body shuddering with each wave of pleasure. I couldn’t take the pressure, the sounds, the feeling of her body against mine as she gave herself to me.

I gripped her hips and held her down on my cock. I groaned as the first spurt erupted into her and bit her shoulder as the tsunami of release washed over me. I shoved up, lashing her with my cum as her pussy took every last bit I had to offer. When I couldn’t give anything else, I pulled her to my chest and lay back. I hit the button so that we were lying flat again. She was still panting though her breaths were slowing. I whipped the sheet back over her, though I hated losing sight of her luscious skin, and I clicked off the light.

We simply lay for a while, breathing and coming down from the high. My leg reminded me of its existence, blood rushing to it instead of my dick. It was still inside her, barely.

“This is a mistake.” Her voice was so soft now.

“No, it’s not, love.”

“It is. Our parents are married.” She ran her fingertips down my chest and rested her head over my heart. “They would freak.”

“Nah. They’d be glad that we aren’t at each others’ throats all the time.”

“We weren’t always fighting, I guess.” Her eyelashes whispered against my skin, a pleasant sensation.

“I was always being a todger. I knew it then. I know it now. Only difference is now I regret it.” I rubbed my hands along her back.

“Well, you were. That’s true.” I could feel her nibbling at her lower lip. “But maybe I should have cut you more slack. You were having a hard time with a whole new life in Dallas, whole new family, all of that. I guess I wasn’t exactly welcoming.”

I remembered clearly the skeptical look on her face when my father and I pulled up in front of her house. The day we’d first met – just a casual get-together while our parents were dating. I hadn’t been looking forward to meeting Annalise or her mother. Annalise had watched me like I was some sort of invading insect. I also hadn’t expected such a chilly welcome. Then again, I was so angry about everything – my mother, my father, moving to the States. But now, with her in my arms, everything was different.

“We started on the wrong foot.” I dropped kisses in her hair.

“We did.”

“I’d like to start over. I kind of hope we already have.”

She nibbled at her lip a bit more and then let out a sigh. “We have. Clean slate. Erase the past.”

“Hang on a tick.” I smoothed a hand down to her ass. You aren’t erasing the past two days, are you?”

She giggled and something inside my heart melted. “No. I’ll keep these in the positive column.”

I gave her ass a squeeze and wished it bore some of my handprints. Next time.

“I should get dressed.” She tried to roll away. My dick slid out and I groaned, but I wasn’t letting her go so easily.

“No, wait a while. Just relax. You’re under the covers. Nurse won’t know.”

She yawned. “I guess you’re right.”

She nuzzled against me and after a short while, her breaths became relaxed and even. I loved every moment of it – the sex, of course – but the feeling of her in my arms even more so.

Annalise

A sharp intake of breath woke me. I sat up.

Mom and Brent were in the doorway. Shit. I had fallen asleep in Niles’ bed, naked.

Mom reached up and slapped her hand across Brent’s eyes. I looked down and scrambled to pull up the sheet. My tits had just been hanging out for all to see – but mostly Brent – because I’d been so startled.

“What in the name of all that is holy are you doing, Anna!” Mom’s voice was probably heard on other floors of the hospital.

My neurons couldn’t fire. I couldn’t even begin to come up with a plausible explanation for why I was naked in my stepbrother’s bed. “I just, we’re just—”

“We’re together.” Niles sat up and drew the sheet tighter around me.

Brent slapped mom’s hand away and took in the full scene, sans breasts this time.

“You can’t be together. Your siblings for Christ’s sake!” An edge of hysteria crept into Mom’s voice. Usually I would tell her she was overreacting, but at this point, after what I’d done, maybe she was right to lose it a bit.

“Oh, sure they can.” Brent shrugged and strode the rest of the way in before plopping down on the sofa. He beamed at us, clearly not an awkward bone in his body.

“But they’re siblings, Brent.” Mom zombie walked, unable to take her eyes from us, and collapsed on the couch next to Brent.

Niles stroked my back before apparently thinking better of it and giving me a reassuring squeeze.

“They aren’t blood, Ellen. This sort of thing is common in England. Step siblings getting married and such. It’s only a thing to you yanks. It’s not a big deal. Truly, love.”

“Whoa, we aren’t getting married or anything. I mean, not that I don’t like him, but it’s not … I mean, we aren’t … all we’ve done is—” (fuck).

“Started a relationship.” Niles jumped in before I could ruin it further. I looked back at him and he smiled, far more confidently and sexily than any man should be allowed. “It’s brand new to us, too.”

“I just don’t know what to think.” Mom leaned back against the sofa and stared at the drop ceiling. “I mean, I would never have guessed this. Brent, did you guess this or something.” She whipped her head to him. “Did you know?”

“Of course not, love. I just thought they were acting the polar opposite of how they used to around each other. I hoped for the best and—” he gestured to Niles and me “—the best happened.”

I began to feel more and more creeped out as Mom appeared shell-shocked and Brent looked happy as a lark. I was still naked and I was almost certain I could make out Niles’ morning wood beneath the sheet.

I cleared my throat. “Well, I really need to get dressed, so if you two could give me a second.”

Mom stood and gave me another bewildered look before walking to the door. Brent rose and followed her. He turned back to us and mouthed “she’ll be fine,” before leading her from the room and closing the door.

I pulled my knees up and dropped my head onto them. “‘Fucked up’ isn’t a strong enough phrase to describe that.”

He rubbed my back some more. It was comforting, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be comforted right then. I slid away from him and pulled on my clothes.

“Don’t do that.” He sighed.

“Do what?”

“Get all up in your head and regret us, yeah?”

I yanked my turtleneck down and turned to him. “There is no us, Niles.”

Hurt flashed across his blue eyes, but somehow, I felt the pain, too. It was as if I had jammed a splinter into my heart. But it was true. We weren’t a couple. We were practically strangers. I’d let my body make my decisions and it had to stop. Even if he’d changed, it didn’t matter. Mom was right.

“I need to go back to the house. Get cleaned up.” I didn’t look him in the eye. I couldn’t.

He sighed. “Fine, Annalise. It’s fine.” Resignation and disappointment all rolled into four words.

Tears rose in my eyes. I rushed to the door and almost collided with the nurse. I sprinted past her, past Mom and Brent in the hall, and burst into the stairwell right as my tears started falling. What was I doing? I took the stairs as fast as I could, even as my vision blurred.

* * *

I stayed in my room, only coming down to the kitchen for food when I knew Mom and Brent were out. Mom came by and knocked a couple of times – the second time saying she was sorry for acting like she did at the hospital. I gave in and told her it was fine, but I didn’t open the door. I knew my eyes were puffy and I looked a wreck. Funny, I hadn’t shed any tears over my last ex-boyfriend, Gavin. Now I was a blubbering mess after Niles.

He came home from the hospital the next day. I heard Mom and Brent helping him into the house. They set him up in the living room on the couch near the enormous tree. I imagined him sitting there, all wrapped up in a cast like a sad Christmas present. It would have been funny if he were the old Niles and I was the old Annalise, but we weren’t.

I felt ridiculous for running at the hospital, for the way I’d reacted, for the things I’d said. I wanted to apologize, but I was too embarrassed. Instead, I maintained my hideout and watched as the snow fell out my window.

I tried to do schoolwork on my laptop, but my thoughts kept straying down the stairs. Niles was like an itch I couldn’t scratch. The notes and reading I needed to do quickly fell by the wayside once I realized I’d read the same sentence about ten times over and still didn’t know what it said.

I goofed around on the Internet, reading about the blues of Oxford and Cambridge, the town where Niles had grown up, and his courses of study. I even found a picture of him with his shirtless rowing team. They all had their arms hung around each others’ shoulders and smiled into the camera. Niles was in the center. I could see it now, how he could be the heart of a team.

I stared at his easy smile (and, yes, his hard body) for a ridiculous amount of time. I leaned back in my bed, heat racing through me as I thought about him, the things he’d done, the way he’d treated me – just the way I wanted and needed.

My stomach growled and I realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. It was after ten. Mom and Brent had already gone to their room. Niles had to be doped up and asleep. Still, I didn’t want to risk running into him. My stomach growled again, this time more of a roar, and made the decision for me.

I crept to my door. Silence. I opened it slowly, trying to ward off any creaking hinges. It worked. No noise. I padded down the hallway and peeked over the balustrade. The living room below was dark, but the twinkle of the Christmas tree illuminated enough for me to see Niles asleep on the sofa.

I prayed my stomach would be quiet and tiptoed down the stairs. I glanced over to Niles every so often. He looked beautiful, his face serene in sleep. One arm was slung over his head and his t-shirt had risen up his stomach, revealing his abs. An ache went through me that was related to an entirely different sort of hunger, but I pushed it away.

I eased through the hallway and into the kitchen. I let out the breath I’d been holding and opened the fridge. Everything looked good at this point, even the bottle of mustard. I grabbed up some lunch meat and got the bread from the pantry. I was doing well with the ninja routine. I made a sandwich and eyed a bag of potato chips desperately, but I left them alone. Too much noise.

I returned to the island to grab my sandwich, but I was shoved forward and a hand clapped over my mouth, covering my scream.

A hard body behind me and warm breath at my ear. “Thought it would be that easy?”

Niles pushed his hard cock against my ass and my panties drenched. His other hand ripped my pajama bottoms down. His cock was already free, pressing into my ass.

“Not a fucking sound, Anna.” He released my mouth and splayed his fingers on my back, pushing me down onto the island. “You brought this on yourself.”

His head nudged to my entrance and I couldn’t stop the soft moan that lofted from me.

“Tell me you deserve this, Anna. You deserve worse – but I can’t spank you like you need, not until later. This will have to do for now. But I want to hear you ask for it. Tell me.”

I was panting as he rubbed his stiff head all over my pussy lips. He pushed me down harder, my breasts pressing against the granite.

“I-I deserve it.”

“Too right you do.” He shoved inside me and I jerked forward, but there was nowhere to go. The thin sliver of pain turned into the finest pleasure as he withdrew and sank inside me again.

I moaned again, incapable of keeping the sensations inside. His fingers clenched my back at the sound and he began pistoning into me, wet sounds echoing around the room. I only hoped they didn’t make it up the stairs to our parents’ room.

I was black powder and his cock was the match. My pussy tensed with each strong stroke. I felt his punishment, his aggression as he worked it out on me. I wanted every bit of it, every emotion he could give. Pouring it into me, he fucked me perfectly. My face against the cold granite and his cock inside my hot pussy. He grunted with the effort of his hard strokes, deep and masculine sounds that spoke to me on a primal level. I couldn’t move, my legs trapped against the cabinets and my torso prone on the island. I was his to use.

His cock thickened inside me as he thrusted. He snaked a hand to my clit and rubbed in vicious swirling strokes.

“You don’t deserve this, Anna.” His voice was guttural, animal. “I shouldn’t let you come. I shouldn’t, but I want you so fucking sated you’ll never think of running again.” He hammered me harder the more he spoke, his fingers working the pleasure from deep within me to the surface. “You going to run again?” He took his fingers away, the buildup ebbing. No!

“No!”

“You sure?” He flicked his fingers across my clit.

“I’m sure. Never. Please, Niles.”

He stroked me full on again, making me writhe beneath him even as he kept me immobile on the stone.

“Then come, Anna. All over my cock.”

He surged forward harder, his thighs slapping my ass as I rose all the way onto my tiptoes. A few more pushes and I was gone, shooting skyward and exploding. I bit down on my hand to keep my moans quiet. I didn’t know if I’d succeeded, my shuddering pussy taking precedence over anything else. It was a hard come, the tension seizing Niles’ cock and dragging it further inside as I trembled at the explosion rocking me from head to toe.

“Bloody hell,” he gritted out before pulling his cock free and grunting. I felt the hot spurts coating my pussy and ass. He shot all over me even as my pussy kept clamping down, wanting his length back inside.

When he was done, he reached next to me and grabbed a kitchen towel. He wiped me clean and then collapsed on my back, still breathing hard.

“You’re mine, Anna. All of you. If you run, I’ll catch you. There is no one else for you. Only me. Is that clear?”

He asked so much. But something clicked inside me, something that had never ever been set in motion before. “Yes.”

“I mean it, Anna.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “I do, too. I’m yours.”

Epilogue

Christmas, One Year Later

“Beat them again. And you rowing for your life. Tell it again!” Brent clapped his knee and laughed.

We all sat on the sofa near the even gaudier Christmas tree Mom had decorated this year. Niles’ arm was around my shoulders and I snuggled into his side. I hadn’t seen him since fall break. Skyping and phone sex were great, but just being near him was making me hot all over, and in one spot in particular. His scent, clean and delicious, was all I could smell. His voice all I could hear.

He rubbed my arm, up and down his hand moved in a smooth, easy, nonstop motion. He was playing it cool for our parents, but I could sense the heat beneath the surface. I couldn’t wait for it to explode outward in a flare of energy.

He obliged Brent and started his story of rowing victory again. “Well, the Cambridge cunts—”

“Niles!” Mom clutched at where her pearl strand should have been.

“Oh, it’s an accurate description, love.” Brent kissed Mom on her neck, lingering a bit too long.

“Get a room, you two.” Niles laughed. It probably sounded normal to them. To me, it was strained. He rubbed my arm faster, as if anticipation was infecting his movements.

“Well, it is late, love. How about we go on upstairs and discuss the word ‘cunt’ a bit more, yeah?”

Mom slapped Brent’s hand off her knee, but she stood. “I’m taking him upstairs before he embarrasses himself anymore. Goodnight, you two.”

Brent rose, as well, and followed Mom to the stairs. He copped a feel on her ass as they went and I looked away, mortified. “I’d venture to say what I’m about to do to you will make my family proud, not embarrassed, love.”

“I see where you get it from,” I whispered and nuzzled Niles.

Niles smiled down at me, more predatory than amused. As soon as our parents’ door clicked closed, he was on top of me. His lips on my neck, his hands yanking my top down so he could get to my breasts. They were braless, just as he’d instructed. I wore a skirt, far too short for the season, also as he’d instructed. But I’d broken his last rule... on purpose. I’d worn panties.

His mouth was hot on my neck, his teeth demanding my attention even as he twined one hand in my hair and thumbed my nipple with the other.

“I have wanted to fuck you raw for the past two hours. Since I first stepped foot in here and saw you dressed like that. Perfect little tart. All mine. Just like I told you. Did you know that?”

“I may have had an idea.” I smiled.

He squeezed my breast so hard it almost hurt and then let off. I sighed as he kissed to my mouth and claimed it as his own. His kiss was rough, devouring me just as surely as a wolf.

He yanked my legs up onto the couch so I was fully on my back, and spread them apart. His cock was hard against me, promising me so much. I dug my nails through his shirt and into his back before yanking up on the fabric. He sat back and ripped it over his head, showing me his sun kissed chest and sculpted abs.

“Niles.” It was all I could say, all I could think.

He reached down to his pants and unzipped before pulling out his cock. He hissed and gave it a smooth stroke before turning his eyes to my skirt. I thrilled at what he’d do when he saw I broke the rules.

He ran his hand up my thigh slowly, pushing the skirt higher and higher until his eyes fastened on the lace between my legs. His nostrils flared and he dug his fingers into my thigh.

“You’ve been bad, Anna.” He put his palm over my pussy and rubbed me, the heel of his hand working my clit beneath the fabric.

I moved my hips up to him. “Yes.”

He smiled, cruel and beautiful. “I hope you didn’t like these, love.”

He clutched my panties and ripped them off in one easy move. Then he put the head of his cock to my pussy and smoothed it down my clit to my entrance.

I wanted all of it, every last bit. I’d craved it, dreamed about it, woke up drenched with sweat and masturbating to it.

“Say it, Anna. Say it and I’ll give you everything you need. But I need to hear it.” It was a demand, but also a request. He would take what he wanted, but only if I gave him me – all of me.

His blue eyes pierced me, saw into the deepest parts of my heart, my mind. He didn’t realize he already had what he was asking for. I’d been his for a year, and would be for many, many more.

It was easy to say, because it was true.

I took a breath and gave him what he wanted. “I’m yours.”

I was utterly lost to him. Given over to him freely, like the most heartfelt Christmas gift.

“I love you, Anna.” He claimed my lips and took me, sliding in hard and sure.

The bells on the Christmas tree began to ring, and kept up a lovely jingle until late in the night.

Christmas Cake

Chapter 1

Ezra

Charles shuffled outside my study door, his steps quiet but the floorboards squeaking minutely.

I sighed and sat back in my chair, my gaze fixed on the mahogany panel separating us. How long would it take for him to knock this year? The wait time seemed to increase each December, and this one—the five-year mark—seemed to be the worst yet.

Snow fell outside my window, blanketing the grounds in a white that sparkled in the fading daylight, and a fire roared in my sitting area. Everything seemed almost idyllic. Beautiful, even. But there was one problem. One person, really, that ruined everything.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and turned toward the fire. That woman simply didn’t understand that I wanted nothing to do with her or her little insults. In fact, I wanted nothing to do with her, ever, beyond the one business deal that she’d denied me for five years running.

Charles cleared his throat.

Here it comes.

A faint knock, the last rap of his knuckles a little louder, as if he’d gained some backbone during the process.

“Come in.” I rose and walked to the wide leather couch in front of the fire as he strode to me, his steps measured.

“It’s arrived.”

I sank down and stared at the orange flames. “Again.”

He walked around to stand slightly to the side. “Yes, again.”

I didn’t want to look at it, but then again, I’d given Charles specific instructions to bring it straight to me if it arrived—when it arrived. And here it was. That woman didn’t miss an opportunity to thumb her nose at me. Not surprising, given who her father was. The bastard. It seemed his mean streak carried over to his daughter.

“Well, let’s see it.” I waved Charles over.

He approached, his gray hair shining in the light from the fire, and not a single wrinkle on his black butler attire. Leaning forward slightly, he held out the offending item.

A scowl twisted my mouth as I inspected it. Fine white icing, piped red poinsettia flowers, perfect sweeping garlands of green adorning the sides. A slight crust of pecans—or perhaps walnuts—along the bottom edge. Beautiful. No doubt delicious. She’d outdone herself this year. In the attractive cursive I’d come to abhor, she’d written her usual ‘Merry Christmas’ message across the top and adorned it with iced green holly sprigs.

“She went all out this year.” I stared at the icing, imagining how she must have smirked and laughed as she created it. Hateful creature.

“Yes, sir.” Charles nodded, well aware of the long-running feud between Adeline Bishop and me.

“Have you seen her bakery?” I asked as casually as I could.

He hesitated, his lips thinning.

“Go on, you can tell me.”

“I may have passed it a few days ago on the way to pick up some dry cleaning.” He winced.

“And?”

“And—” He took a deep, steadying breath. “It’s decorated for the season.”

“Decked out?” I knew it would be. It was every year. I owned all the other shops on her street—each of them neat and respectful. No ludicrous holiday fluff, or colored lights, or ridiculous Santa kitsch tainted their exteriors. Only simple swags that acknowledged the season without being ludicrous about it. In fact, the entire business district would be perfect if it weren’t for the bakery. Truly, if it weren’t for the bakery’s owner.

“Decked out indeed.” He nodded. “She even has neon candy canes in the window this year.”

Was that a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips?

“You approve, do you?” I glared up at him.

He shook his head vehemently. “No, sir. Of course not. It is gaudy and entirely reflective of that woman, so much so that I refuse to pass by it again until the holidays are over.”

Good answer. I settled back into the leather, my thoughts dragged back to her. Just like they were every Christmas. At least she was on time.

“Shall I throw this to the dogs?” He straightened and pulled the offending confection out of my line of sight.

“I wouldn’t. Perhaps she finally got around to poisoning me this year.” I re-trained my gaze on the fire.

“Surely not, sir.”

“You can’t trust a Bishop. Her father taught me that.” I pointed to the side table without looking. “Put it there. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m more than happy to dispose—”

“Just leave it,” I snapped. God, that woman put me on edge.

“Yes, sir.” Charles gingerly set it down, as if it were a bomb, and left the room with quick steps.

The longer I stared at the perfectly circular cake, the delicate icing, the more I realized that it was a bomb. And it had blown me up for the final time.

I gritted my teeth. Adeline wouldn’t ruin any more of my Decembers with her flippant cake deliveries. It was time to end it. She may have been Brooktown royalty because of her father, but the Bishops’ time was at an end. This was my time.

Perhaps I’d been too lenient in allowing her to continue refusing my offers on the bakery. No, I definitely had been. Sending my lawyer to get it done was a mistake. All these years, and he’d failed at that one directive. I’d given him some even dirtier ideas at our last meeting, one of which he’d put into action. But it had yet to come to fruition. So, the bakery was still there, still churning out these abominable Christmas cakes every year.

Sure, I’d acquired the rest of the town. But it wasn’t enough. I glanced at the cake again, the jaunty icing mocking me. My leniency was over. It was time to take the fight to her.

“Charles,” I called.

He reappeared, his gaze straying to the offending item of sugary disdain.

“Sir?”

“Bring my car around.”

His eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Sir?”

“My car,” I repeated, though I couldn’t blame him for being surprised. After all, I was the definition of a recluse. I owned the town, but I rarely left the confines of my estate. And if I did, it wasn’t to rub elbows with anyone in Brooktown. People had germs and dirt and any number of diseases. Just the thought of shaking hands with someone sent a shudder through me. What if they hadn’t washed their hands?

So, no, I didn’t get out much. In fact, I’d never even met the pebble in my shoe named Adeline Bishop, but that was going to change.

I would end the stalemate. She would learn who ruled Brooktown. And I would stop the delivery of her annual Christmas cake.

Chapter 2

Adeline

“Where’s Mrs. Litton’s Christmas cake?” Toby barreled past me, heading to the back of the shop.

I smiled at Mrs. Litton. “It’s in the cooler. Don’t worry.”

She pulled on her yippy dog’s leash and wrinkled her nose. “It better be. My party is tonight.”

There was nothing to do except keep smiling. So I did.

“And another thing, I think the cake you made for Betty last week had the most delicious icing I’ve ever tasted. What was that? Buttercream and some sort of cream cheese? If my icing isn’t as good, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

“It’s the same.” I smoothed my hands down my pink and brown apron and prayed for Toby to hurry up. “Remember? Last week when you called, you said ‘I want the same cake Betty has but bigger.’ And that’s what I’ve made.”

She patted her helmet of gray hair. “Betty won’t even know what hit her. She thought she’d be the queen of the holidays this year.” Her laugh was far more sinister than merry. “We’ll just see about that.” The yippy dog yipped as Toby re-entered, the cake in hand.

I squelched my sigh of relief and pulled out a box for it as Mrs. Litton looked over the icing with a sharp stare.

“This is …” She tapped her fingers on the top of the glass case that was filled with cupcakes and cookies. “Just what I wanted.”

“Great.” I slid it into the box and gingerly closed the lid as Toby rang her up. “I hope your party goes off without a hitch.”

She handed over her credit card. “It will. Feel free to stop by if you’d like.” She narrowed her eyes at me, no doubt taking in the messy blonde ponytail, flour splotches that always seemed to dot my cheeks, and the well-loved apron. “But make sure you’re presentable.”

“That’s very kind of you.” I had no intention of going to Mrs. Litton’s stodgy party, though it was nice of her to invite me all the same.

“Your father used to come every year.” Her face finally softened just a hair. “I’m sure you must miss him terribly, especially this time of year.”

“I do.” I forced another smile to drive away the hint of grief that floated around me like a snow flurry. “But I know he’d be proud of my shop, and he always did have the Christmas spirit.” I passed the cake back to Toby. “Help Mrs. Litton to her car, please.”

“Sure thing.” Toby grabbed the box and walked around the counter.

The yippy dog yipped.

Mrs. Litton patted my hand. “Merry Christmas, dear.”

“Merry Christmas.” A real smile returned to my lips. The holidays were my favorite time of year, and I celebrated Christmas with as much joy as I could. Dad had always made a big deal of the holidays, so I continued the tradition. It seemed like a small way to remember Dad and a big way to give back to Brooktown. I was known for making Christmas cakes every year and sending them out to people who seemed to need a pick-me-up.

Toby stomped the snow off his boots before returning. “She’s a piece of work.”

I shrugged. “She means well.”

He rolled his eyes. “She is a pain in the ass, and that dog of hers is a racist.”

I snorted. “Racist?”

“He only barks at me.” He gestured to his dark brown skin. “And don’t pretend like you don’t know why.”

“I’m sure he barks at lots of people,” I said as lightly as I could.

Toby gave me his ‘come on’ look. “Racist. Dog.”

I pinched my lips together to stop from smiling. “Okay, maybe.”

He laughed. “She finally says something bad about someone, and it’s just a dog.”

“I say bad things all the time!” I flipped the switch to turn on the neon candy canes in the window.

“You do not. You don’t have a bad word to say about anyone, not even mean Mr. Fletcher or even that asshole who’s always trying to buy your shop out from under you! How many times has that old shut-in Mr. Grayson sent his lawyer to bother you?”

“A few.” I honestly couldn’t count the number of times the lawyer had visited, called, and even come by my house on a few occasions. Each time, I’d politely declined his offer, even when it reached an astronomical sum. The bakery was part of me, and I intended to keep it for as long as I lived in Brooktown.

“A few?” He shook his head. “He’s hounded you for years, and yet.” He shook his finger at me. “And yet, I know you sent his boss a Christmas cake again this year.”

I pushed my glasses up my nose—they had a habit of sliding down. “He lives out there in that big old house all alone. No family, no kids. He doesn’t even come to town. What’s wrong with sending him a little holiday cheer?”

Ezra Grayson had been on my Christmas cake list for the past five years. I hoped that a little kindness would go a long way, and he’d back off from trying to pressure me into selling the bakery. It didn’t seem to work, but I kept sending him the cakes all the same. I’d never even met the man, though plenty of people whispered about him. Determined. Rude. Haughty. Miser. No one ever had a kind word to say about the poor man.

“He’s no friend to you, Addie. Not when he’s been after your shop like he has. He’s probably some 80-year-old grump on oxygen with a cane he uses to smack puppies. And here you are, being nice to him.” He sighed. “You’re hopeless.” A buzzer sounded in the back, and he hurried off to tend to the oven.

I took stock of the cakes I had left to be picked up for the night. Just two. We would usually close at nine, but I stayed open a little later during the holidays, just to keep a bright light going on Main Street and entice some late-night snackers in for some cookies.

As I leaned over to straighten the trays of eclairs, the door opened, and the winter chill swirled into the sugary warmth of the shop. A tall man in a long dark gray coat entered, a few flakes of snow melting in his black hair as he stepped inside. Dark green eyes peered around at the cases filled with cakes and cookies, and then he stepped closer. Handsome, he looked to be a little older than I was. Maybe thirty or so to my twenty-five.

“Hi.” I walked to the front counter. “How can I help you?”

“Hello.” He didn’t approach, just kept perusing the store with his sharp gaze.

I threaded my fingers together and tried not to stare at him. Usually, when someone came in, they’d at least come to the counter or walk to the cases. This man, though, it was as if he were afraid to get any closer.

I cleared my throat. “I hear we’re supposed to get more snow tonight.”

“Yes.” He finally moved closer, though he wasn’t looking at the cases anymore. He was looking at me with a directness that caused heat to creep up my neck and into my cheeks.

“You’re Adeline Bishop?” He stopped a few feet from the counter. Tall, he was over six feet, and broad like some sort of athlete. Did he live here in town?

“I—yes. But my friends call me Addie.”

He held my gaze, and the look in his eye seemed almost like a challenge. “And this is your shop, Adeline?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes. What can I get for you?” My tongue darted out to wet my lips, a nervous habit.

His eyes followed the movement and widened. “What can you get for me?” he asked it softly, his gaze still on my lips.

Something about the way he watched me made my breath catch in my throat. Breathily, I said, “Yes. I have cookies and cakes and—”

“Cakes.” He snapped his attention back to my eyes, a scowl pulling on his lips.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Would you like a cake? What kind?” I gripped my interlocked fingers even tighter. “I have Christmas cakes freshly baked and decorated just this morning. And there are—”

A loud clatter sounded from the back—the familiar sound of pans hitting the tile floor.

“Cheese and crackers!” Toby yelled.

“If you’ll excuse me for just a moment. I’ll be right back.” I held up a finger to the man, then turned and dashed into the kitchen.

Two round pans lay on the floor, one of them with a busted chocolate cake half out of it. Toby gripped one hand with the other.

“You okay?” I hurried over to him.

“Yeah, just stupid. I grabbed a hot pan like an idiot. Just totally forgot I’d taken it out of the oven only a few minutes ago.” He shook his head.

Toby was a good baker, but sometimes a bit scattered. I always chalked it up as part of his charm.

“We’ve all done it.” I turned and opened the small cabinet above the sink and pulled out the burn ointment. “Let me see it.”

He held his hand out, a red welt already showing up along his fingers.

“This’ll help.” I slathered the cooling ointment on.

He sighed. “That’s better already.”

“You’ll have to keep re-applying about every 30 minutes or so.” I put the tube in his good hand. “Let me handle this customer, then I’ll be back to check on it.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m fine. Not my first burn. But I’m going to have to redo Mr. Burnham’s chocolate cake.”

“I’ll get it done. Don’t worry.” I guided him over to the one small chair we could fit in the baking area. “Sit here and just relax for a minute.”

“It’s okay, really—”

“Stay.” I pointed at him and pushed back through the door and into the front of the shop.

It was empty.

The interesting man was gone.

Chapter 3

Ezra

I reached for my glove box and retrieved my pack of sanitary wipes. With precision, I cleaned each palm, finger, and the spaces in between—after all, it seemed the whole town stopped by her shop and touched the door handle. I couldn’t leave that mess of germs and bacteria on my hands.

Once I was done, the wipe stashed, I gripped my steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, but I didn’t start my engine. Instead, I sat and stared at the shop with the neon candy canes in the window.

That woman was utterly diabolical. Curvy, beautiful, a vision with powdered sugar smudged along one cheek and bright blue eyes—she was irresistible.

I’d imagined someone completely different, someone who had an ugly outside to match what I was certain was an ugly personality. Maybe I should have done a little research before jumping right into the jaws of the beast, because I was completely taken off guard. My heart was still beating hard, stampeding inside my chest just from being in her presence.

Her perfect little button nose and cherub’s lips hid the viper underneath, I reminded myself. She was a Bishop. Even if she looked like an angel, she wasn’t. I repeated it to myself: she is a no-good Bishop.

Though the litany ran through my mind, I still found myself sitting and watching, hoping for a glimpse of her through the wide glass window. The bakery was bright and popular, plenty of customers stopping by as the evening turned darker and snow began to fall. I eyed a storefront across the street. It had scaffolding along the front, the work almost finished, the building nearly ready, and a “coming soon from Grayson, Inc.” sign on the sidewalk. A frown creased the corners of my lips as I stared at my newest venture. But I couldn’t think about that now.

The other shops on the street—my shops—had a slow trickle of customers. But none of them came out smiling like they did from Bishop Bakery.

I scrubbed a hand down my face. God, had I come out from her bakery smiling? Surely not.

“Get it together.” I pushed the button to start the engine. But I still didn’t put it in drive. I watched. Whenever I got a glimpse of her messy blonde hair, I leaned forward, eager for more. I needed more—more of her rounded hips and cute little smile. For research. Yes, to know how best to engineer her downfall. No other reason, obviously.

I glanced at the other storefronts. My shoe store was closing for the evening. It was past nine already.

The bakery door opened, and a young man walked out—the one I’d seen working inside with her. He turned away from me and hustled down the street while pulling his knit hat down low on his forehead.

She was alone in the bakery.

I didn’t like it. What if someone came to cause trouble? Working by herself was dangerous. What was she thinking?

A car pulled up and a woman got out—Tilly Morris from the city council. She hurried in. No harm there.

All the same, I dropped my hands from the steering wheel and settled in to watch. Adeline Bishop was still a thorn in my side, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to get hurt. Best that I stay and keep an eye out, just in case. Also, more research.

Another car arrived and parked in the handicap space in front of my insurance agency. I narrowed my eyes as a man got out. He was young—maybe early twenties—and had a cocky walk that I detested. He practically pranced into the bakery, his gelled blond hair staying put despite the breezy falling snow.

I wrinkled my nose. This was what I was talking about—dangerous characters who might try and take advantage of a beautiful woman.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I waited for the blond buffoon to leave. Instead, Tilly pushed out the door, a stack of three cake boxes in her arms, and hurried to her car.

Adeline was alone with the man. What was going on in there?

I picked up my phone and flipped through my contacts, then dialed.

After a few rings, a cheerful woman picked up, “Brooktown PD.”

“Yes, this is Ezra Grayson. Sorry to be a bother, but I’m afraid someone has parked illegally in a handicapped spot in front of Grayson Insurance. Can you send someone out to ticket them?”

“Oh, Mr. Grayson! Nice to speak with you finally. Well, isn’t this a treat? I don’t know if you know my husband Grady, but he works at—”

“Grayson Mercantile. Yes, the store manager. He’s a real asset to the team. You must be Wendy.” In fact, her husband was a bit lenient on the staff from what I could tell, but he kept the store in the black, which was all that concerned me. I’d done a phone interview with him years ago when I’d first returned to Brooktown and began buying up businesses, and he’d gone on and on about his wife Wendy the police dispatcher. After that, I’d almost turned him down for the job based solely on him being too sentimental.

“Yes, that’s me.” Her voice brightened even more. “Grady will be bowled over when I tell him you knew who I was.”

“Give him my best.”

“Yes, sir. I will. And you say someone’s parked in the blue spot out in front of the insurance place? I hate that more than I can say. Taking a handicapped spot, and at the holidays on top of it. What an awful person.” She sighed, and I could almost hear her shaking her head.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“I’ll send George over there. I think he’s just down at the town square. He’ll teach that jerk a lesson. Maybe he can even get it towed.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course. My pleasure. Have a good night, Mr. Grayson. So wonderful to speak to you. And Merry Christmas.”

“Same to you.” I hung up and turned my attention back to the bakery.

The man was still inside. I ground my teeth. After waiting a few more minutes, I reached for the door handle. I would find out for myself what was going on. But then a police cruiser pulled up behind the bozo’s car.

The officer got out and began writing on a clipboard. Perfect.

I settled back in and grinned when the man rushed out of the bakery. But my attention fixed on the door as Adeline looked out on the scene.

Her pink lips were rounded in surprise. The apron was gone, and she wore a Christmas green sweater and some black leggings that hugged her hips and legs. Her glasses rested on top of her head, but she pulled them down to get a better view. After a moment, she shook her head and retreated from the door. I wanted to get out and follow her, but I stayed put.

As the cop wrote the blond menace a ticket, the lights in the bakery window went dark. I frowned. The street seemed … dull without the sparkle of the bakery. My businesses all seemed gloomy and dower by comparison.

She reappeared, a red knit cap on her head and a bag slung over her shoulder.

The blond bonehead walked over to her, and I cracked my window to hear their conversation.

“A handicapped spot, Perry? Seriously?” Her sweet voice darkened with disdain.

I grinned.

“Just an accident. I couldn’t tell it was a handicapped spot.” He shrugged.

Bullshit.

She leaned sideways and waved at the cop. “Hi, George.”

“Hey, Addie. How’s business?”

“So far, so good.”

“Carrie loved the cake you sent. Cheered her right up, especially since she’s been down on account of her mom being poorly.”

“I heard.” She walked to George, but Perry followed at her heels. “Give them both my love.”

“Will do.”

“Goodnight you two.” She turned to walk down the sidewalk.

Perry grabbed her arm. “I can give you a ride home.”

I wasn’t a violent man. Never had been. I was more of the calculating sort, the kind of man who knew that revenge was always best served cold. But at that moment, I wanted to pummel Perry into a fine paste, then hose him off into the gutter.

She pulled her arm away and gave him a polite smile. “I can walk. It’s not far.”

“But it’s snowing.” He pointed to the sky like an idiot.

“I’m fine. Besides—” She gestured at George who was still writing on his clipboard. “You’re busy.”

“Will you be at the tree-lighting tomorrow night?” Perry didn’t give up.

“You know I go every year.” She took a few backwards steps.

“Then I’ll see you there.”

“All right.” She turned and strolled away.

I wanted to follow her, but I couldn’t move my car without attracting unwanted attention.

Perry ambled back to the cop. “You didn’t have to give me a ticket, you know.”

“You didn’t have to park in the handicap spot.”

“It was an accident.”

“Uh huh.” The cop sounded as convinced as I was.

“I pay your salary, you know?” Perry’s tone turned harsh the second Adeline was out of earshot. “You should be out catching real criminals.”

“Mmhmm.” George ripped the ticket off the clipboard and handed it to Perry. “Don’t park in blue spots.”

Perry glowered. “Yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too.” He turned on his heel and yanked his car door open. “Asshole.”

“Have a great night.” George, who easily had fifty pounds on the blond cupcake, just smiled.

Perry slammed his door, started his car, and pulled out—his taillights disappearing as George got into his cruiser and followed.

As soon as they were out of my rearview, I gunned it down the street, only able to breathe easily again when I saw Adeline hurrying through the swirling flakes. Safe.

The thought of offering her a ride flickered in my mind, but that was foolish. Just because her ass swayed like a tantalizing piece of heaven in those tight leggings was no reason for me to brand her as anything other than my enemy. After all, she had ruined my perfection of owning the entirety of Main Street. She had sent me the offending Christmas cake again and again. And, to make matters worse, she had the audacity to look and act like an angel to my face. No, I would definitely not be offering her a ride. That’s something a friend would do.

Not me.

I was not that guy.

So, instead, I followed her all the way home. Naturally.

Once she was inside her modest cottage just off Main Street, I stole out of my car, hurried up her front steps and tried the front door to make sure it was locked. It was. Good. I dashed back to my car and pulled out the box of wipes. But I hesitated. The only one I’d seen use her door handle was her.

I stared at my hand. It had touched the same bit of metal that hers had only moments before. Hmm.

I tossed the wipes into the seat and drove home.

Chapter 4

Adeline

The first cakes of the day cooled on the counter as Toby and I iced the last of the gingerbread cookies. We’d already prepared the morning croissants and pastries, and the scent of strong-brewed coffee cut through the sugar dust that hung in the air.

“Perry come by last night?” He squinted as he drew the buttons on his gingerbread man.

“How’d you know?” I stirred together some more green icing.

“He comes by too much.”

“He’s harmless.”

“Sure, but he’s an asshole.” Toby wrinkled his nose as the red royal icing ran into the white. “This one’s a dud.” He devoured the messed-up cookie and moved on to the next. “You could do a lot better. I hope he isn’t wearing you down.”

“No.” I scooped the green icing into my piping bag. “Perry’s just a friend.”

“Keep it that way.”

“Why are you so bossy with my love life all of a sudden?” I leaned over the neat row of gingerbread girls.

He shrugged. “Clint and I were discussing it last night—”

“You discuss my dating life with your husband?” I snorted. “That’s not very good pillow talk.”

“No, it’s not. Totally boring.” He finished one cookie and moved on. “But we are going to work on it. Set you up. Get you a man to hold onto during the cold winter nights.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine on my own.” Was I lonely sometimes? Sure. Did I wonder if I’d missed my chance at finding a guy once I’d returned to Brooktown and threw myself into the bakery? Sometimes. But it wasn’t like I was in spinster territory. I was only twenty-five. “I’ve got plenty of time to find someone.”

He reached for the green icing, and we switched. “You already know everyone in town.”

That was true. Brooktown wasn’t a big place, and all the eligible bachelors weren’t for me. I’d gone on a few dates, but that was enough. No one here had caught my eye. I chewed my lip and filled a cookie with red icing. Correction: no one had caught my eye till last night.

The man who’d come in, the one with the green eyes and the frown. Who was he? Why hadn’t I seen him before? Maybe he was in town to visit relatives for the holidays. That seemed the most likely explanation. There was something about him, something that had me thinking about him as I lay in bed last night and again when I got up this morning. He was handsome and … well, honestly, kind of odd. It intrigued me, especially since most everyone in Brooktown was cookie cutter.

Toby pointed. “Hey, you going to pull back on that?”

“Crap!” I’d squeezed icing all over the gingerbread girl, red oozing over the sides and threatening the other cookies. I put the icing down and started cleaning up the mess.

“What were you thinking about? Not Perry, I hope.” He scooted the good cookies out of the way of the creeping red disaster.

“No, not Perry. I told you.”

“Then what?”

I used the back of my wrist to push a strand of hair from my forehead. “There was a man here last night, when you were in the back burning yourself.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Yeah? Who?”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t recognize him. Must be in town for the holidays.”

“Did you get his number?” His brown eyes twinkled.

“I didn’t even get his name.” I swallowed my disappointment.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Hopeless!”

“He was here, and then you had your, you know, spat with gravity in the kitchen, and when I came back, he was gone!”

“Did he buy something with his credit card? I can probably look in the system to—”

“No, didn’t buy a thing. Just was sort of weird.”

“Weird?” He stopped working and pinned me with a stare. “You’re interested in a weird guy?”

I got back on track with my icing. “Maybe.”

He seemed to consider it for a moment, then went back to the cookies. “Well, this will be interesting.”

“I don’t see how. He may never come back.” I frowned at the thought.

“Oh, he’ll be back.”

“How do you know?”

“Please. That tight little package you got going and the cute glasses and let’s not forget dat ass! That’s how I know. He’ll definitely be back.”

My cheeks heated. “You’re crazy.”

“Nope. I may bat for the other team, but I know a hottie when I see one. I’m willing to bet your mystery man does, too. We’ll be seeing him sooner rather than later.”

I glanced at my watch. “Go time.” I left Toby to ice the rest of the cookies and headed out front to open the store. Two people were already waiting to pick up their Christmas cakes.

Smiling, I opened the door and ushered them inside, all the while peeking down the street to see if the mystery man was waiting, as well.

Chapter 5

Ezra

“No boyfriend.” Charles gave me a slight smile.

“Are you sure?” I perused the local newspaper’s database for any stories on the bakery or Adeline.

“I made a few calls around town to people who are in the know, as it were. They all told me the same thing—Adeline is married to her bakery. She’s dated a few times in the past, but nothing ever came of it.”

“So, she’s single?” My heart finally managed to beat in an easier rhythm.

“Assuredly, sir.”

I leaned back and ran my hands through my hair. A shower was in order. I’d stayed up all night poring over my attorney’s notes about his meetings with Adeline, as well as every piece of paper I could find on her. By all accounts, she … wasn’t a diabolical mastermind hellbent on ruining my life.

She was a baker, had an arts degree from the state school, posted photos of her cross-stitching and her cat on Instagram, went on beach vacations with her friend Hannah, loved the holidays, and had a particular soft spot for Chris Evans, the Captain America guy. But maybe all this covered over her dastardly ways? I clenched my eyes shut and could see her in her shop, the way her big blue eyes met mine, the sweetness in the air, the delicious curve of her neck, the way her pants hugged her tight a—

“Sir?”

I snapped my eyes to Charles. “What?”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” He glanced at the first rays of the sun as they glittered across the freshly-fallen snow. “I’ll need to start your breakfast.”

“Get some rest. I’ll be dining out this morning.”

He cocked his head to the side as if he hadn’t quite heard me. “Dining out?”

“Yes.” I stood and brushed past him.

“Are you certain you’re feeling well?” Charles followed at my heels.

“I feel great.” Actually, I felt better than I had in a long, long time. I’d skip the gym today. No time to waste. I needed a shower and shave, then I’d need to dress—damn, how should I dress for her? I hadn’t wooed a woman in … ever. And was that what I was doing? Wooing her? No. I shook my head. I was investigating her, that’s what. Because she was a no-good Bishop. I was looking for weaknesses. Nothing more than that, no matter how much I wanted to ask about her arts degree and what she liked to do in her spare time. Did she bake at home, too?

I stopped. “Charles?”

“Sir?” He trailed me to my expansive bedroom and into the walk-in closet.

“What should I wear?” I stared at the rows of neat clothing, everything looking perfect but maybe not casual enough.

“Well, I—” He wrung his hands, his face flustered. “I’m not sure what we’re going for.”

“I want her to—” like me. I cleared my throat. “I mean, I want to be able to keep an eye on her, but to seem just like another person in this town. Not like … not like …”

“Not like Ezra Grayson?”

“Right.” I scrubbed a hand down my face.

“And the purpose of this expedition?” That hint of a smile played along his thin lips again.

I waved a hand at him. “Just business research. You know what a snake she is.”

“Right, sir. Of course.” The smile was still there.

“Stop.” I gave him my usual glower—the one that had served me well throughout the conquest of my old hometown. I’d never intended to return here, especially not after the way the former Mayor Bishop had treated me and my family. But once I’d finished college, my bitterness had grown. When my parents passed within two weeks of each other, my anger had flared. And when I’d made my first million short-selling stocks, I’d come up with a plan. One that would give me the revenge I needed over William Bishop. Adeline was all that was left of him, and she was… The enemy, I reminded myself. Adeline was the enemy.

“Appropriate dress is my strong suit, as you know, sir.” He strode past me and pulled out one of the drawers along the back wall.

“Jeans?”

“If you want to look like a local, then yes. Jeans and a nice button-up shirt with a warm coat. Or you could don a sweater, something simple. Paired with a scarf and overcoat, you’d look just right.”

I stared at the row of black sweaters and black pants, my usual attire. “So, this won’t do?”

His gray eyebrows lowered. “No, sir.” He moved to another drawer and pulled out a dark green sweater. “This would work and also keep you warm out there.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” I had plenty of trust in Charles. He hadn’t steered me wrong in the six years since I’d hired him.

“Shall I shave you?”

“I can handle it.” I glanced out at the brightening sky. “I’ll need to get to the shop early. Scope it out.”

“And have breakfast?” The old man couldn’t keep the amused tone from his voice. I couldn’t particularly blame him given that I hadn’t allowed anyone other than Charles to prepare my food for a long, long time. But I had my reasons—other people may not have washed their hands. Or maybe they were sick. Or who knows what sort of unsanitary practices went on outside the walls of my estate?

I stripped on the way to my shower and walked into the glass enclosure. The hot spray hit me from all angles as I reached for my shampoo. The vision of her face appeared as soon as I closed my eyes and soaped up.

Why couldn’t I get her out of my head? I was a solitary man and never considered myself in need of company beyond my money and Charles. But this woman—she was giving me crazy ideas. It was completely out of character for me to fixate on her, especially considering she was likely rotten to the core beneath her sweet exterior. Of course, my cock had popped to attention the second I’d thought of her, and it didn’t buy my “rotten to the core” reasoning. No, it believed that she’d be just as sugary as the confections she created in her shop.

I couldn’t just leave the situation. It had been a while, but it was terribly easy to grip myself and think about Adeline’s pink mouth fastened around me, her bubblegum tongue stroking my cock as she looked up at me with those impossibly blue eyes. It didn’t take long for me to lose it, yelling out the sudden release as I imagined her swallowing it down, her tongue lapping at me.

“Damn.” I leaned against the tile wall and gulped in a breath. That was unexpected. And not enough. I needed more. I needed her.

Chapter 6

Adeline

The customers came in a steady rush. Regulars grabbed their pastries and coffee, then hurried out into the blustery morning. With two weeks until Christmas, we had plenty of people stopping to pick up special order cakes as well. The bell on the door seemed to tinkle nonstop as Toby and I rushed around and served everyone.

“Thanks, Mr. Hendricks.” I waved the older clerk from Grayson’s Fine Clothing out the door.

Once he left, there was a brief lull.

I didn’t waste time. “We need more blueberry scones and another pot of coffee.”

“No one ever wants our coffee. So they must be desperate. Also, we’re out of scones.” Toby turned to the coffee machine. “I already got the ones from in the back.”

“Wow. Those went fast.” I was arranging the remaining croissants toward the front of the case when the bell sounded again.

The lull was short-lived. “Toby, can you get that?”

“Nope.”

I craned my head and looked at him. He was staring at the front of the shop.

“Can’t help. Sorry.” He grinned and returned to the coffee station.

Ass. “Fine.” I shoved the last croissant into place and stood to greet the customer.

“Morning.” The stranger from last night waited at the counter, his gaze focused on me.

“Oh, hi.” I pushed my glasses up my nose.

Toby snickered but kept his back to me.

“What can I—” How did he look even more handsome today than yesterday? It hadn’t been twenty-four hours, yet his sparkling eyes, full lips, and sharp nose—all of it managed to dazzle me. I cleared my throat and tried again. “What can I get for you?” It was more of a squeak than a question, but at least I managed to get it out.

He smiled.

I melted.

“These lemon poppy seed muffins look good. I’ll take one of those and a coffee, if that’s all right?” He reached for his wallet.

“Yes, of course. Cream and sugar?” I smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, except there wasn’t a strand of hair there, so I just looked like I was playing with my ear.

“Black.” He followed the movement.

I traced the smooth line of his jaw down to his Adam’s apple and the neckline of his forest green sweater. His chest was broad and tapered to a trim waist. Handsome and built. Where did he come from?

“Adeline?”

“Oh.” I realized he’d been holding a twenty out while I’d been ogling him.

My cheeks grew hotter than my cayenne chocolate sauce as I took the money, but I hadn’t even fetched his order yet. I usually did that first, money last. God, I was flustered.

“Let me just grab the—” I turned to get his muffin and almost bumped into Toby who handed me the muffin and the coffee with a too-knowing smile.

“Thanks.”

“You know, I was thinking you look particularly pretty today.” He turned to the customer. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Toby!” I wanted to crawl under the counter.

“What? I was just being honest.”

“Very honest. She definitely looks lovely today.” The customer’s warm smile returned.

I shoved the muffin and coffee at him, almost spilling it on his sweater. “Sorry. I, um. I’ll get your change.” I shook my head at myself and opened the cash drawer. “Here you go.” I handed him the bills and coins, the latter slipping from my fingers and bouncing on the counter. “Sorry.” I slapped my hand down on a quarter and scooped up the rest, then tried the handoff again. His palm was warm as I deposited the coins in it, but his expression was warmer. God, was it hot in here or what?

“It’s fine.” He pocketed the change. “Do you mind if I sit?” He gestured toward one of the small café tables next to the window.

“Not at all.” I tangled my fingers together so they wouldn’t cause any more trouble.

He sat at the table nearest the door, his side to me.

Hannah walked in, giving me something to focus on instead of staring at the handsome man and scaring him off.

“How’s business?” She strode up and tapped on the glass case. “I want a gingerbread man.”

“Gotta pay for those.” Toby finished with the coffee.

“Don’t be like that.” Hannah wrinkled her nose at him.

I pulled one out and handed it to her, all the while forcing myself not to look at the man.

“Thanks.” She bit into it and leaned on the counter. “Going to the tree-lighting tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Stand by me?”

“Sure.” Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

Her perfectly sculpted brows pulled together. “What’s with you?”

“What?” I shook my head. “Nothing.”

She finished her cookie and glanced behind her. “Nothing, huh?”

“Just working.”

She smirked. “Finally. Santa has finally answered my request to bring you a big, thick—”

The door opened, thank God, and Mrs. Carnegie hurried in, her hair in curlers. “Need that cake, doll.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I shooed Hannah off the counter.

“I’ll see you after work.” She backed away, her thin figure perfectly silhouetted in her form-fitting red top and black skirt.

“Sell lots of jewelry,” Toby called.

“I’d better or that grinch Mr. Grayson will fire my ass.” Hannah headed for the door.

“That crusty old booger would have to leave his castle to do something like that. Won’t happen.” Mrs. Carnegie tapped on the counter. “No one’s seen hide nor hair of him for years.”

“Have you ever met him?” Toby asked.

I risked a glance at the customer. He sat totally still, the coffee halfway to his mouth. Listening.

“No, but Ruth Franks saw him about three or four years ago.”

“What’d she say he was like?” Toby leaned forward, gossip always welcome to his ears.

She simpered conspiratorially, happy to have a story to tell. “Well, I heard from my cousin who heard from Ruth’s old boyfriend Earl, but Ruth told Earl she saw him at Grayson’s Mercantile and that he was really old and ugly as sin. Bald as a pool cue and walked with a limp.”

I pulled her cake from the cooler along the back wall. “But we’re talking about Ruth, right? Ruth, the one with the …” I didn’t want to finish the sentence in mixed company.

Mrs. Carnegie mimed tipping back a bottle and glugging it down. “Yeah, she’s been on the wagon for six months, but back then she could definitely tie one on.” She shrugged. “But I have no reason to doubt her. That man sits up in that big old house and counts his money all day and all night. Doesn’t care for anyone in this town. Just likes to own it.”

“You know Addie sends him a Christmas cake every year?” Toby rang up the cake.

I elbowed him and gave him a stern look. Mrs. Carnegie didn’t need any more grist for the gossip mill, especially if it was about me.

“You do?” Mrs. Carnegie raised one eyebrow.

“She does. Even though that jerk sends his lawyer by here to pressure her to sell the bakery. That sleaze ball darkens our door at least once a week. Old Grayson even tried to go to the bank and get them to accelerate the mortgage on this place, put a real squeeze on Addie. Thankfully, the bank president was a close friend of her dad’s, so it didn’t work. But just the fact that he tried it.” Toby scowled. “I’d like to kick that jackass in the teeth.”

“Toby.” I shook my head. “It didn’t work, and the bakery is still here. It’s easy enough to send the lawyer away every time he stops by. Don’t talk like that.”

He scoffed. “Grayson’s a Scrooge and a shyster, yet you still send him a cake every year. I don’t understand it.”

“He lives all alone in that big house, no family that anyone knows of. I don’t see the harm in sending him a little bit of Christmas cheer every year.” I shrugged.

Mrs. Carnegie patted my hand. “That’s sweet of you. It really is. But Toby is right. I bet Ezra Grayson throws it in the trash with a big old ‘humbug’ and goes back to counting his coins. Send it to me instead. My grandkids always love your cakes. And better in their tummies than in that old pinch-penny’s garbage.”

A sound pulled my attention to the customer. He’d spilled his coffee.

“Oh, let me get that.” I stepped from behind the counter, happy to be away from Mrs. Carnegie’s scrutiny, and threw my towel onto the table to soak up the spill before it could drip onto his pants.

He scooted back. “So sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I wiped the spill. “Happens all the time.”

Mrs. Carnegie thankfully left, cake in hand and with a quick goodbye.

“Toby, can you get a fresh coffee?” I finished cleaning up.

“No, that isn’t necessary. I made a mess.” He looked up at me, his deep green eyes bright.

He smelled like some sort of expensive, masculine soap. Or maybe it was his shampoo. I didn’t know, but I wanted to take a deep inhale of it. I didn’t. Because, well, creepy.

Toby hurried over, a fresh cup in his hand. He held it out. “Here it is, Mr. …” He upturned his tone on the last syllable, creating a question. He was such a meddler!

The man hesitated, his hand reaching for the coffee. He paused long enough for me to feel the deep awkward, and I almost interrupted, but then he said, “It’s, um, Blackston. Eli Blackston.”

“Mr. Blackston.” Toby gave a self-satisfied grin and handed the coffee over.

Chapter 7

Ezra

I finished my bitter coffee as a steady stream of customers kept Adeline and her employee busy. The shop didn’t want for patronage even if the coffee was a travesty. The muffin, however, was beyond delicious.

Staying longer would have started to seem suspicious, so I eventually stood and cast a glance toward Adeline. She was placing some gingerbread cookies into a little bag for the woman at the counter. Even though she’d been occupied for the past fifteen minutes, I could feel her eyes on me either directly or indirectly. Could she tell I was watching her, too?

I should have turned and walked out the door. Instead, my feet carried me to the counter as she finished up with the customer.

“Hi again.” She turned to me, bright eyes and all. “Can I get something else for you, Mr. Blackston?”

“Call me Eli.” The false name fell off my lips with surprising ease.

Color rose in her cheeks. “Eli.” She tasted the word and seemed to enjoy it. A hint of disappointment flickered through me—I wanted her to like my real name.

“Your Christmas cakes. Do you make them all yourself?” A dumb question I already knew the answer to, but I wasn’t ready to walk out of the shop.

“Yes. Would you like one?” She beamed.

I remembered what happened to the one that had been delivered to my house and swallowed hard. “Not today.”

“Oh.” Her smile faded the slightest bit, and I kicked myself for saying no when I should have said yes.

“But—” I hurried on, “I’d love to have some of those gingerbread cookies that are so popular.”

The smile blasted again, and she moved behind the case.

“How many can I get for you?”

“All of them.” I wasn’t in the habit of half measures.

Her eyes widened. “All?”

I nodded. “I’ll take all you’ve got.”

“Um, okay.” She pulled out a long tray with at least three dozen cookies on it.

“And I have another question.” My ears got hot, the tips positively on fire, but I took a deep breath and continued on my reckless path.

“Yes?” She glanced up at me.

“I heard you’re going to the tree-lighting this evening.”

She scooted her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. “Yes.” Her voice sounded almost breathless. Lovely.

“I’m going, too, and I was wondering if it would be all right for us to go together?” My brain screamed what are you doing? I didn’t go out. Especially not where there were people. People who might have the flu, or a cold, or a flesh-eating virus, or some sort of scabies. What if they touched me? What if they coughed on me? Or sneezed? I wanted to lean on the counter at the thought, but then I’d have touched the surface where myriad customers had already placed their sweaty palms. Oh, God. My mind tried to go into a brain-eating amoeba spiral, but Adeline’s smile pulled me out of it. I focused on that bright spot of sunshine and pushed the worries down to a manageable din.

“I’d love to.” She tucked an invisible lock of hair behind her ear.

“Great.” I took a deep breath. “I can come here beforehand and walk with you?”

She bit her smiling lower lip—the cutest thing I’d ever seen. “Okay. We’ll close up at 7:45.”

“I’ll be here.”

“Okay. Great.” She held my gaze, and a pleasant tingle rushed up my spine.

I’d never been desperate to touch someone before, but I wanted to press my palm against her cheek and pull her in for a kiss. The thought should have been abhorrent—a kiss could transmit an untold number of pathogens. But everything about her was a sweet lure, her lips most of all. What would she taste like? When she stole a look at my lips, my heart banged against my ribs. She was thinking about kissing me, too. She had to be. Damn this case of sweets separating us!

“Boss.” Her employee appeared from the back, a box in hand, as if he’d been listening to every word. He grinned, his demeanor a bit self-satisfied, but not in a too-grating way.

“These gingerbread are one of Addie’s special recipes.” He held the box as she loaded up the cookies.

“Oh?” I pulled out my wallet.

He prattled on about ingredients, but I couldn’t pay attention to anything but her. She finished boxing the cookies, her delicate hands carefully placing them inside so they didn’t break.

I paid and took the box.

“Hope you enjoy those.” Toby eyed the empty pan.

“I will.” I actually didn’t care for gingerbread, but for her, I’d give them a try.

She met my eyes as I gave her one last look before walking out. The smile on her face could’ve melted the coldest snowdrift. I returned it as best I could and left. The chilly air hit me in the face and reminded me of how warm and sugary the bakery had been.

Hammers and the sounds of power equipment peppered the air. Across the street, men worked on my newest venture. A sliver of regret tried to work its way into my heart, but I ignored it. Nothing would come of it for another month, anyway. Besides, business is business. That’s what Adeline’s father had told mine all those years ago. A dusting of sourness coated the sweet, and I sighed.

Adeline wasn’t her father, I reminded myself, hoping to dispel the unease.

I returned home, the drive filled with thoughts of Adeline. Once I was settled in my living area, staring into space as I considered my options with Adeline, Charles appeared and puttered around me until I finally spoke, “Why are you hovering?”

“Perhaps you’d like to tell me how it went?” He wiped nonexistent dust from the fireplace mantle.

Talking through it couldn’t hurt, I supposed, so I related all that had occurred in the bakery. The story was short, which didn’t make sense to me. So much more had happened than the simple tale of me getting horrid coffee and a scrumptious muffin. There was a whole world of nuances to be unpacked. I’d barely touched the muffin top, not delved into the warm, delicious body of the confection.

He smiled, a look that I’d rarely seen on his weathered face. “I couldn’t help but notice that when you arrived, you didn’t—”

“Wash my hands.” It struck me just as he’d said it. I held up my palms and reveled at my lapse. I couldn’t remember a single time when I’d come home and not immediately scoured my hands for germs and bacteria, washing off whatever gunk I may have come into contact with. Rising, I walked to the half bath off the main hall and engaged in the ritual, though perhaps a bit halfheartedly.

“I must say,” Charles followed me back to the living room, “I’m a bit concerned that you gave her the wrong name. It’s a small town, and even though you keep to yourself, she’ll discover the truth. It’s not advisable to keep up the charade. And—” He cleared his throat. “Given what your lawyer, Mr. Novak, has set into motion at your direction, you might want to clear the air sooner rather than later.”

“Right.” I sank onto the couch and stared at the orange flames dancing in the fireplace. The false name had been a mistake, but I wasn’t ready to reveal myself, especially not after I’d heard what the town thought of me—old, ugly, and hiding in my house counting my money. But were they wrong? I ran a hand through my hair. I mean, of course they were wrong about me being old and ugly, but the other part … Sure, I stayed in my house, but that was my choice, not me running away from anything or hiding. And it’s not like I actually sat around and tallied up my holdings. I cast a glance toward my office—the computer on my desk had a constant screen running that kept track of all my investments. But that was different. Definitely different.

I shook my head. Adeline didn’t think all those things about me. After all, she sent me a Christmas cake every year. I couldn’t be so bad if she took an interest. Or did she do it out of pity?

“Sir?” Charles pulled me from the train wreck of my thoughts.

“Yes.”

“You’re going to have to tell her the truth.”

“I will.” I waved him away.

“The sooner the better,” he coaxed. “And there’s the matter of the new shop across—”

“I don’t want to think about that.”

He gave me a kindly look, one that couldn’t hide the hint of foreboding. “You should try to start on firm footing if this is something you want to pursue.”

What he said made sense. But I wasn’t ready to drop the façade. Being Mr. Blackston for a little while couldn’t hurt.

Mr. Grayson—the old, ugly miser—could take a backseat for a little while.

Chapter 8

Adeline

Toby flipped our “closed” sign so it faced out. Darkness had fallen, and the parking spots along Main Street had already filled with townspeople attending the tree-lighting in the square.

“Hi Addie.” Cole Beverly, his wife Laney, and their four kids—all bundled up and cute in their coats and hats—walked by.

“Hey there. See you at the lighting.”

They waved and continued down the street, their idyllic family creating a cute postcard in Christmas sweaters and hats.

“Big turnout this year.” Toby snugged his knit hat down over his ears.

When he moved to walk away I grabbed his elbow. “What are you doing?”

He gave me an amused grin. “Clint’s already down at the square saving us a good spot. He can’t wait to get a look at your mystery man.”

“You aren’t going to wait with me?” I peered around but didn’t see Eli. Nerves had me twisting my gloved fingers together.

“No way. You look delectable.” He fluffed my long hair around my shoulders and fussed with my red knit cap. “Scarf is on point, ass is looking tight in those jeans, and your cherub face is cute as always. Stop fretting.” He grabbed my hands and stopped my finger war. “Relax. He’ll be here. And I don’t want to be the third wheel.”

“You seriously aren’t staying?” Panic sent my voice even higher than usual.

“No.” He gripped my hands tight. “You’ll be fine. See you there.”

“Wait—” But he’d already turned and strode away, melding into the steady trickle of people trudging toward the square.

I leaned against the shop door, doing my best to look nonchalant as I greeted various townspeople walking by.

“There you are.”

I turned to find Perry, a smile on his face as he surveyed me. “Oh, hi.”

“You ready? I saved us some seats up front next to the mayor’s family.” He offered his arm.

I wanted to sink beneath the concrete at my feet. “I, um… Well, see I have—”

“She already has a date.” Eli appeared at my other elbow.

Perry looked up at him, eyes widening. “And you are?”

“Her date,” Eli said coolly.

His confidence was like a special sort of aphrodisiac. I wanted to wrap myself in it like a blanket.

“Addie, who is this guy?” Perry crossed his arms over his chest.

“Eli, this is Perry. Perry, this is Eli Blackston.” I scooted to Eli’s side.

Perry scowled. “Never heard of you, friend. Where are you from?”

“No need to be rude.” I shook my head. Maybe I should’ve been firmer with Perry over the past few months, told him there was no chance. But I always tried to be kind to people, even if they were impossibly annoying like him.

“It’s not being rude. I’d just like to know because—” He looked up as if trying to pull his next words from the air. “For safety reasons. Strangers can be dangerous.”

“The only one in danger right now is standing between us and the square.” Eli gave Perry a hard look.

I squeezed Eli’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go. We can all walk together.”

Perry wrinkled his nose. “I’d rather not.”

“Suit yourself.” Eli stepped around him and offered me his gloved hand.

I took it and let him lead me around a steaming Perry and down the sidewalk toward the square.

“I’ll see you later, Addie,” Perry called to my back.

Eli stopped and turned. “She’s not interested, friend.”

Perry’s jaw dropped, but Eli simply squeezed my hand and resumed our path.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” A bit of worry edged his voice. “You aren’t interested?”

I blushed, the wind biting my cheeks and making them even redder. “I’m not, but I didn’t want to disappoint him.”

“He needs to get used to disappointment.”

“He’s not so bad.” I shrugged.

“Let’s not talk about him. Tell me more about you. All I know is that you make delicious cookies, have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen, and are too nice to be believed.”

I laughed, the air in front of my face fogging. “You’re puffing me up.”

“Definitely not.” He glanced down at me, his green eyes piercing deep and warming me in spots that had been decidedly chilly for years. “All true.”

“What about you? I don’t even know where you live or what you’re doing in town.”

He looked away toward our destination. “Not much to know, really.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. I think—”

“Addie!” Hannah hurried across the street, narrowly avoiding the slush on the curb.

“Hey, I thought you were meeting up with Toby.”

“I am. But when I saw you two, I couldn’t resist.” She stopped in front of us, her makeup flawless, and her red lips perfectly pouty. “Who’s this?”

“Eli, meet my friend Hannah.” My insides clenched as Hannah stared up at him. She was thin and beautiful, had been that way since high school. I’d never been too terribly jealous—at least not until that moment. I bit my lower lip and waited for Eli to fall all over himself like most men did when confronted with Hannah.

“Nice to meet you, Hannah.” He kept his hand firmly in mine. “Sorry to be rude, but I was just getting to know Adeline. Would you mind if we continued on our own?” His tone was polite, but he brooked no argument.

Her perfectly arched eyebrows went from “mildly amused” to “super surprised.” “Um, sure. Sorry. Didn’t mean to bust up anything.” She leaned to my ear. “I like him. Kind of alpha grrrr.” Her voice rose so he could hear. “But if he turns into a controlling asshat, I’ll be disposing of his body in a landfill.”

“Noted.” Eli nodded at her.

“Good.” She patted my arm, then made her way back across the street, her heels somehow managing the icy patches without a hitch. She’d left a man—Woody from Grayson’s Garage—standing and waiting on her. Typical Hannah.

“She’s a good friend.” He began walking again. “Any man who mistreats you belongs in a landfill, so I can’t fault her for that.”

“You don’t know me. I could be a terrible person. The worst Bishop this town has ever seen.”

He stopped and turned to me.

My breath caught in my throat as he loomed over me. Something low inside me coiled and heated.

“I can assure you that’s not the case. From what little I’ve seen, you’re easily the kindest Bishop this town has ever known.” He leaned closer, the steam of our breaths meeting and twirling.

“Thank you. I think.” I put one palm to his chest to steady myself.

He smirked, the slight twist of his lips devious and hot.

Oh, my. I couldn’t pull my gaze from his mouth. What would one kiss feel like? I hadn’t been kissed in so long that I wondered if I even remembered how to do it. Then again, Eli seemed like the sort to take the lead, and I’d have no problem following along with whatever he wanted to do.

Chapter 9

Ezra

She fixated on my lips, and it was an act of supreme will for me to turn away and continue our path to the town square. It was already filled with townspeople. I stayed alert, wary of anyone who might recognize me. Though I didn’t venture out, the current mayor and his assistant knew me on sight from some initial dealings in prior years. My attorney had taken over swiftly once I got settled in Brooktown, but there was a chance the mayor might still remember me.

“Where do you want to stand?” She rose onto her tiptoes to get a better look at the small stage set up in front of the towering Christmas tree, shadowy and dark.

“I have a spot picked out.” I drew her around the edge of the crowd, several of the people saying hi or waving to her. She was popular, and I knew why. Magnetic and warm, no one could resist her. Not even me. Especially not me.

“Here?” She stopped at the steps of a wooden gazebo.

“Yes.”

She cocked her head. “I don’t even remember there being a gazebo here.”

That was because I had donated three gazebos to the town square just this morning. Workers had barely finished this one in time and had to forego painting it entirely. But it was suitable for my purposes.

“Must be new.” I shrugged.

Charles unhooked the small chain across the stairs. “Welcome, Ms. Bishop.”

Her eyes widened. “How do you—”

“This is Charles. He works for me.”

“Hi Charles.” She stuck her hand out, and he shook it gently.

“Such a pleasure, Ms. Bishop.” He gestured her up the stairs.

“Please call me Addie.” She stopped in front of a small table for two laid out with a variety of snacks—cheese, crackers, olives, fruit, and hot chocolates.

I hadn’t bothered with desserts, since anything I could have procured wouldn’t have held a candle to what she could create.

“You did all this?” She pressed a gloved hand to her cheek.

“For you. Yes.” I pulled out a white wooden chair for her.

“Thanks.” She sat down, her expression still slightly dazed. “All this is so … so nice.”

“I’m glad you like it.” I motioned for Charles to bring the heater closer. “Are you warm enough?”

“I’m great.” She took her gloves off and held her hands in front of the square black heater. “This is amazing.”

I took the chair next to her, our elbows lightly touching. “What do you like?” Taking her plate, I grabbed a set of tongs and waited to serve her.

“You’re going to fix my plate?”

“Is that all right?” I wanted to dote on her, to give her whatever I could. Something about providing her with food and warmth soothed whatever masculine ego I possessed.

“I guess. It’s just no one’s ever done that for me.”

“I’m glad to be the first. Strawberries?”

“Yes, please.” She grabbed her cocoa and took a sip. “Mmmm, perfect. And there’s a hint of heat.” She breathed out slowly, savoring it.

“I heard you enjoyed cayenne chocolate.” Charles smiled at her, then took his leave down the stairs and out into the night.

She took another sip. “He’s great.”

I hadn’t really thought about how much Charles did for me, but I couldn’t disagree with her. He was a much bigger help than I ever gave him credit for. “He’s definitely an asset.”

Her brow wrinkled. “So how is it that you’re new in town but have a … a …” Her brow wrinkled even harder. “What is he, like a manservant or something?”

I almost snorted. “No. He’s my assistant.”

“What does he assist you with besides sweeping ladies off their feet?” She nibbled a piece of cheese.

“This is the only time he’s done that for me, I can assure you.” I piled a few more strawberries onto her plate. “Is it working?”

She laughed. “How could it not? Special seating, food, and a heater? No one could resist.”

“Good.” I sat back and took a deep breath. Doing my best to play it cool, though inside I was anything but, I slung my arm across the back of her chair.

She leaned toward me just a little. Just enough for my heart to stutter and speed up. She smelled like sugar and vanilla, a sweet treat waiting to be devoured.

“Do you come to the tree-lighting every year?”

Her gaze brightened. “Yes. Ever since I was little. My dad used to be the mayor, and it was always his favorite event of the year. He was really big on the holidays. I think that’s why I pull out all the stops each December. I throw myself into Christmas cheer and community. And the tree lighting has always been one of the most special parts.”

I swallowed my distaste at the mention of her father. “Why do you like it so much?” I was genuinely curious. Nothing seemed particularly special about wrapping a tree in miles of colored lights, but she thought differently.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because everyone comes together.” She gestured toward the townspeople. “The families are all here, many different generations. And the tree is just a beautiful reminder of community, you know? I came back here after school to look after Dad.” Her voice grew quieter, almost catching in her throat. “He was sick, you see. But we still came to the tree-lighting every year until he …” Her voice faded. Even though I hated the man down to my bones, I hated her sadness over his passing even more.

“I’m sorry.” I wrapped my arm around her tighter, pulling her close.

“It’s okay.” She wiped a tear away. “Sorry, I still get emotional when I think about him.”

“It’s understandable.” I felt the same way about my parents, though I’d managed to turn my grief into something sharp and pointed.

She shook her head, as if that could clear the sadness, and her tone had lightened when she said, “Tell me more about you.”

I trotted out the words I’d rehearsed earlier. “I’m an entrepreneur in town for the holidays.” Not a lie—I was an entrepreneur and I was only in town for the holidays.

“You have family here that you’re visiting?”

“My parents.” Not a total lie. They were buried in Brooktown, according to their wishes.

“Blackstons? Where do they live? I might know them.” She took another sip of her cocoa and made an mmm sound that reverberated through me. I wanted to be the reason she made that sweet little noise.

“On the east edge of town near the old sock mill.”

“You mean close to the cemetery?”

I nodded. If she kept on, I’d have to make up more lies, and for some reason, the idea of lying was like an oil slick on my tongue.

“East edge of town. Hmm. I don’t know of any Blackst—”

“Welcome!” The mayor’s voice boomed over the sound system.

Relief coursed through me as he launched into a holiday spiel about togetherness. If Adeline had any more questions, she kept them locked away during the long-winded speech.

When the mayor was done, he walked to a comically large lever on the edge of the small stage. “And now, without further ado, it is time to light the tree! Merry Christmas to all!” he called and pushed the lever down in dramatic fashion.

Nothing happened.

“Oh no,” Adeline whispered.

The crowd didn’t move, all eyes turned toward the darkened tree.

“Ah.” The mayor pulled the lever back up. “I guess some tinsel got jammed down in here. I think I should try it again, but let me give it a minute so the elves can work some magic.” He cleared his throat as the townspeople laughed nervously.

Adeline’s face fell. “Oh, no,” she repeated.

“You do it,” someone grumbled nearby.

“No way,” another voice shot back. “It’s your turn. I’m not touching it again.”

I turned and peered into the dark. Two city workers were arguing over a heavy duty power hookup just behind a row of holly bushes.

“Plug the other one in there before he hits the switch again!” The first shoved a wire at the second.

“No!” The second crossed his arms over his chest.

I stood. When Adeline gave me a questioning look, I said, “I’ll be right back.”

Hurrying out of the gazebo, I cut through the snowy grass to the arguing men. “What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing.” One wiped his nose.

“You idiots are ruining the lighting. Move!” I grabbed the thick wire from one of them and inspected the end. It was clearly a higher voltage plug than I was used to, but it was a plug all the same. “Where does this go?” I leaned over and inspected the outlets and fuses on the outdoor power receptacle.

“We, uh, plugged it in there but—”

“It sparked,” the other bozo finished. “And it arced and shocked the hell out of me.”

Scorch marks blackened the top outlet, and there was only one other that the wire could fit.

I glared at them. “So now you’re too chickenshit to try the other outlet?”

They shrugged.

And they were probably right—it was unwise to try it again. But then I remembered the tear Adeline wiped away and what she’d said the lighting meant to her. I positioned the plug next to the un-scorched outlet. The two city workers backed away.

“Now let’s give this another go.” The mayor forced a jovial tone. “Everyone think about your Christmas wishes. That’ll surely do the trick. And I’ll count it down. Three, two—”

As the mayor crowed “one,” I shoved the plug home.

Chapter 10

Adeline

“You saved Christmas!” I smiled up at Eli as we walked down Main Street, the town Christmas tree glowing at our backs.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I would.” I squeezed his hand as we arrived at the bakery. Did the night have to be over so soon? Just being near him made me feel something like a sugar buzz. Excitable and warm, I didn’t want that feeling to end. But I had to get to the bakery early as always, especially since I had a long list of Christmas cakes that needed baking. A good problem to have.

“Well.” I scuffed my boot on the sidewalk. “I had a great time.”

“So did I.” He moved closer.

I sucked in a breath and leaned against the window.

“I’d like to see you again.” He took off a glove and pressed his warm palm to my cheek.

“Me too.” I closed my eyes at his touch. “But I should get home. Baking starts early.”

“I can imagine.” He sighed. “Where’s your car?”

“Oh, I walk.” I didn’t want to open my eyes, to let the moment end.

“Can I drive you home?” His breath whispered across my lips.

Everything inside me was rising like a soufflé in an oven, warm and melty in the middle. “Sure.”

“Great.” He stroked my cheek then dropped his hand. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

I followed him to a sleek black sedan. He opened the passenger door for me and ushered me inside. It was already warm, the seats heated.

“How?” I held my hands up to the vent as he slipped into the driver’s seat.

“Remote ignition.”

“You don’t leave anything to chance, do you?” I couldn’t find fault with it, not when his planning meant I had a full stomach and a warm butt.

“No. Never.” He pulled out of his parking spot and headed down Main Street toward my house and away from the dispersing tree-lighting crowd. Passing through the first intersection, he turned right.

I peered at him. “How’d you know to turn right back there?”

His brows drew together for just a hint of a second, and then he shrugged. “Just a guess. The houses over here are closest to Main Street.” He cleared his throat. “Did I choose wrong?”

“No.” I pointed. “I’m down here on the right. The blue one.”

“Got it.” He pulled to the curb. “You know, it’s not particularly safe for you to walk home in the dark.”

“Everyone knows everyone around here. Safe as can be. Besides, Toby walks me home a lot of the time.”

“The one who works with you?”

“Yep.” I looked at my house, the porch light on and welcoming me home just as always. I’d walk in alone. Just like always. But it didn’t have to be that way, did it? I swallowed hard. Was I crazy? Maybe. But I turned to Eli all the same. “Do you maybe want to come in for a minute?” My palms went sweaty as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

“I’d love to. But only if you really want me to.” He took my hand. “Don’t feel pressured.”

“I’m not.” I shook my head. “I mean, I feel weird, since I don’t do this sort of thing. And I’m not saying that if you come inside we will definitely … you know. So don’t get that idea. But—” My face heated to the same temperature as the sun. “I just… I don’t know. I want to see where this goes and not be scared of it.” I squeezed his fingers. “After all, you’re the guy who bought all my gingerbread cookies and saved Christmas. Eli Blackston, you’re the best thing that’s happened to this town in a long, long time.” I let out a hasty breath. “And the best thing that’s happened to me, too.”

He didn’t smile. Why wasn’t he smiling? Maybe I’d said it all wrong. I’d never put myself out there like this.

“Listen, Adeline.” He looked out the front window as a flurry began to fall, his profile tense. “I’m not that guy. I wish I was, but I’m not.”

“What do you mean?” I pulled my hand back.

He turned to me, something like pain flashing across his eyes. “Thank you for the invitation, but I’m afraid I can’t come in. I should go.”

“Oh.” So that’s what a knockout punch to the chest felt like. I hastily unclicked my seatbelt and opened the door.

“Adeline, it’s not you—”

Embarrassment crashed on me like a rogue wave. “Don’t.” I stood, suddenly happy to feel the cold air on my face. Maybe it would bring me to my senses. “Don’t give me a speech about ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’” Tears pricked at my eyes. “Thank you for saving me from a big mistake.” I slammed the door as he opened his mouth to reply.

“Adeline!”

I ignored him and darted up my sidewalk and to my porch. In an instant I was inside, the door firmly closed and locked as I leaned against it and fought back tears. How humiliating.

“Adeline, please.” His voice was on the other side of the door.

“Just go, Eli.”

“I’m sorry.”

Why did those two words loosen my tears? They fell in a stream as I pressed my mouth to the back of my hand.

He shuffled around for a few moments, then I heard his footsteps retreat down the walk. I peeked out the window, my watery eyes catching his taillights as they disappeared at the end of my street.

Chapter 11

Ezra

My dreary house greeted me as I drove up the lane. Dreary—I’d never associated that word with my home. But as I stared at the stately brick and dark windows, no other description came to mind. It wasn’t Adeline’s homey cottage or her sweet bakery. It was just a conglomeration of building materials devoid of a heart.

I parked in the garage. Charles met me at the door to the house.

His smile faded as he watched me walk past him and into my study.

He followed silently and stood behind the sofa as I sank down and cradled my head in my hands.

“Sir?”

“She invited me into her house,” I moaned.

He made a hmm noise. “Pardon me if I’m off base here, but isn’t that a good thing?”

“Let me rephrase that.” Bitterness tinged my tone. “She invited Eli Blackston in, not me.”

“I see.”

It was a mess of my own making. I was a fool to start out on a lie. But how would she react if she knew who I really was?

“I choked, Charles. She invited me in. I wanted to go in, badly.” I couldn’t over-emphasize that enough. God, it was torture saying no. “But I just … couldn’t.” I rubbed my temples. “Not when she’s sitting there thinking I’m some great guy who loves Christmas and Brooktown and, and—”

“You feel you aren’t a great guy?” he asked pensively.

I sat back and considered his question. “I thought I was. I thought all this,” I waved a hand at the grand house, “was the way to measure if I’d lived a good life, one that Mom and Dad would be proud of. But now that I’ve met her, it’s not enough anymore.” I held up my hands and stared at them. “I didn’t scrub them when I got home. That’s what she does to me—turns off the malfunctioning parts and lights up the good ones. But she doesn’t know me. Not really.”

“Maybe you should tell her the truth.”

“The truth?” I recalled the woman’s words at the bakery, her pronouncement that I cared more about money than anything else. Could I even deny the charge? No. Which meant I couldn’t tell Adeline the truth. I was trapped in my own lie. “I can’t. Not now. I need more time with her. If I tell her who I am, it would change everything for the worse.”

“She may surprise you, sir. Telling her who you really are might not be the calamity you fear.”

“No, it’d be a disaster. All the hard pushes for her to sell me the bakery, the pressure I’ve put her under, the lawyer I’ve had hounding her for years, the time I tried to get the bank to shut her down. Hell, she doesn’t even know that I tried to lean on the health inspector to give her a bad write-up.”

“That was before you knew her.”

I shook my head. “Her cake. I tossed it in the garbage.” The customer’s words echoed in my mind, “I bet he throws it in the trash with a big old ‘humbug’ and goes back to counting his coins.”

“You have to tell her.” He leaned against the arm of the sofa, his eyes kind. “It’s the best thing. You said it yourself—you couldn’t spend more time with her this evening because of the lie.”

He was right. But it didn’t matter. I needed more time with her as Eli Blackston. I’d balked earlier, but I wouldn’t do it again. Maybe if she got to know me as Eli for a while, she wouldn’t be so upset when I told her the truth. I’d become adept at remaining mysterious, so this would work out fine.

Apparently, I’d become adept at lying to myself, too.

Chapter 12

Adeline

“I’m sorry.” Hannah bit the head off a gingerbread man. “Maybe he, I don’t know, got overwhelmed or something?”

“I’ve never been so embarrassed.” I could barely talk about it, but Hannah had a way of pulling information from me.

“There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.” Toby wiped the counter as the morning sun filtered through the wide front window. “He’s the one with the problem.”

“Can we change the subject?” I wasn’t about to tell them that I cried myself to sleep. But I had. Ugh.

“Sure.” Hannah brushed some crumbs off her sweater. “Though I need to get to work.”

“Want some coffee to go?” I offered.

She wrinkled her nose. “No thanks.”

“Why don’t you ever want my coffee?” I put my hands on my hips. “I know you’re a coffee drinker.”

She shrugged. “Oh, you know. It’s just that …” Her eyes cut to the left. “It’ll make me have to pee when I need to be on the floor selling.”

She was lying—whenever she looked left like that, she wasn’t being honest. It was a tell I’d noticed years ago, and it always came in handy.

“Sure.” I frowned at her.

“Well, gotta go.” She turned toward the front door right as someone knocked on the glass.

“Who’s that?” I peered out, but the sun was in my eyes.

“Delivery guy.” Hannah unlocked the door and opened it, turning the closed sign over to signal the start of business.

“Morning, Adeline. Special delivery. Not sure how it’s all going to fit.” Mick, the local florist walked in and eyed the small café tables and my counter.

“What?” I hurried around the counter and stopped when I got a view of the two large vases in Mick’s arms.

Hannah held the door open as he walked in and placed them on the café tables, which were dwarfed under the size of the dozens of red roses, white roses, and greenery.

“Wow.” Toby’s eyes were wide as he stared at the flowers.

“Who’re they from?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.

“A Blackston. He called late last night, woke me up at home and everything.” Mick scratched his scruffy beard. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but—I wasn’t too pleased being woken up at home for a flower order, so I played hardball—he didn’t seem to mind, and let me tell you, he paid dearly for these flowers.”

“They’re beautiful.” I reached up and ran my finger down the petals of a closed bud.

“This is nothing.” Mick pulled the door open. “The truck is packed. You’ll need to make room.”

“More?” I shook my head.

Mick walked out as Toby came to my side and made a squee noise. “Groveling.”

“What?” I stared at the perfect Christmas colors, the gorgeous arrangements.

“Eli messed up last night, and now he’s groveling. It’s perfect.”

“This is too much.” I gaped as Mick carried two more arrangements inside.

“On top of the case,” Toby directed, then turned back to me. “This guy’s doing it right.” He gave an impressed whistle when Mick brought in even more flowers, all of them in shades of white, red, and green.

“I don’t even know what to think.” I pushed my glasses up my nose. “I mean, he didn’t want to come in, but now he sends flowers? How am I supposed to read this?”

“You don’t have to read between the lines here, doll.” Toby cooed as even more flowers appeared, Mick grunting as he lugged them inside. “He’s into you. He got spooked last night, and then came to his senses.”

“I’m just not sure.” I mean, he’d been pretty clear about not wanting to be with me last night. So why the change of heart?

“Be sure.” Toby put his arm around my shoulders. “Look, remember when Clint forgot my birthday three years ago?”

“As if you’d let anyone forget that.” I gave him a wry smile.

“Right. But he groveled appropriately—flowers, chocolates, and sexual favors—”

“TMI, Toby.”

He continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “And that smoothed it over. There’s nothing that a grand gesture can’t fix. And this—” He pointed as Mick brought yet another arrangement into the crowded shop. “Is definitely a grand gesture.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” I gazed at the flora wonderland around me.

“Wait and see what he says. Don’t shut him down when he comes to grovel in person.” He waved a customer inside. “If he doesn’t have a good enough explanation, then you’re free to curb him.” He grabbed my arm. “But keep the flowers and whatever else he gives you, especially if it’s jewelry.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I’m practical, sweetie.” He walked behind the counter as customers began appearing, many of them asking me who the flowers were from.

I blushed my way through the morning rush, telling the regulars the flowers were from a secret admirer. It seemed to stave off their curiosity, at least for a moment.

The doorbell tinkled, and goosebumps rose along my arms. Sure enough, when I looked up Eli was there, a warm look in his eyes.

He strode up, his gaze sweeping across the dozens and dozens of flowers. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” I busied myself at the counter, arranging the wrapped brownies in a neat row. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ve got some, um, muffins to check on or something.” Toby backed through the swinging door to the kitchen.

Eli reached over and placed his hand over mine, stilling me. I finally met his eyes.

“I need you to know that I wanted to go inside last night.” He squeezed my fingers lightly. “Very, very badly.”

I cleared my throat. “So why did you …”

“I just didn’t want to rush anything with you. You’re too important to me.” He didn’t let me look away, his tone earnest and his face contrite. “I apologize for making you feel anything other than gorgeous and wanted and amazing. Because you are all those things and more.” He glanced at the nearest floral arrangement. “These can’t begin to express my remorse for hurting you, but I hoped they’d be a good start.”

My heart galloped in my chest, and a million emotions swirled inside me, but when I looked in his eyes, I felt his sincerity. He truly was sorry. Some of the embarrassment fell away, and I was able to stand a little straighter for the first time that day.

“Mick won’t have flowers for a week. You cleaned him out.”

He took my hand in his and grazed his thumb over my knuckles—a simple gesture that heated my skin in unexpected places. “I bought every last stem that aligned with your Christmas theme. I’d do it again if it would make you smile.”

“You’re too much.” I tucked an actual strand of blonde hair behind my ear.

“Do you think you can forgive me?” His smooth baritone echoed inside me. God, he really was the most handsome man who’d ever darkened my door.

“Yes, of course I can forgive.” I could barely think as his thumb roamed back and forth across my knuckles.

He sighed with evident relief. “If I could go back and redo that moment—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I will.” He leaned across the counter.

I held my breath.

“I’ll worry about it until I have a chance to truly make it up to you.” His gaze skated down to my lips.

“How will you—”

His kiss was sudden and all-consuming. I gasped, and he pressed even closer, his lips against mine. My knees went wobbly, and I leaned on the counter for support.

He pulled back just a little. “That’s what I should have done last night.”

“Mmhmm.” I couldn’t have gotten a coherent word out to save my life.

“And more.” He kissed me again, but this time, his tongue played across my lips. It started a fire inside me, and I opened my mouth. He delved deeper, his tongue massaging mine. The fire grew, until I could smell something burning. His kiss intensified, and I grabbed the lapel of his jacket, holding onto him. The smell of something charring increased.

“Burning,” I murmured.

He nipped at my bottom lip.

I blinked back to reality. “No! My muffins are burning.” I turned and darted through the door to the kitchen.

Toby was throwing a muffin pan onto the counter and waving at their smoking tops.

“What happened?” I rushed to the back door and threw it open so the smoke could escape. “I thought you came in here to take the muffins out.”

“That’s what I said.” He waved the smoke out the door. “But I think you know I totally ignored the oven when I saw the heat going down at the counter.” He grinned.

“Toby!” I could have smacked him, but the bell on the front door rang.

“Make some more muffins,” I barked.

“On it, boss lady.” He smirked, knowing full well I was all bark, no bite.

I hurried to the front.

“Addie.” Perry stood just inside the door.

Eli had his back to me, but I could sense the displeasure rolling off him from the tension in his shoulders.

“Hi.” I peeked around the wall of testosterone. “What can I get for you?”

He eyed the flowers and then sized up Eli. “I was just stopping by to chat.”

“Sorry, Perry.” I glanced toward the kitchen. “I’m kind of busy. Burnt muffins.”

“Not too busy for him?” He pointed at Eli.

“I’d put that finger down if I were you.” Eli’s voice was cold, cutting like jagged ice.

Perry did, but his scowl deepened. “I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

“I know who I am.” Eli crossed his arms over his chest.

Perry sputtered, then fell silent, his face reddening.

“Guys.” My voice didn’t make a dent in the growing tension.

“You don’t know this guy, Addie.” Perry made his entreaty to me. “I wouldn’t trust him.”

“I didn’t hear her ask you for advice.” Eli had a knack for making simple sentences turn into gut punches.

Perry stepped closer, his elbow brushing one of the beautiful arrangements. “These from you?”

“Of course.”

“You think spending a bunch of money will get you anywhere?” Perry jutted his elbow out farther, causing the vase to tilt precariously.

Things were going south fast, so I tried again to interject. “Why don’t you two sit down, and I’ll bring you some coffee?”

Perry winced, some of the aggression fading. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, I’ll pour you a cup.” I moved toward the coffee machine.

“Um, no. No thanks.” He held a hand up. “Not necessary. I was just on my way to the office. I’ll try and stop by later.” He glanced at Eli. “So we can speak in private.”

“Okay.” I was happy to have him leave, even if I wouldn’t be able to avoid him later.

He gave Eli one more hard look, then pushed out the front door.

Eli turned, the granite façade on his handsome face fading back into warmth as he looked at me. “How long has he been bothering you?”

I shrugged. “He’s been in this town as long as I have. But he’s a nice guy.” I noticed the way his lips turned downward. “I mean, deep down, you know? Really deep, deep down, he’s a nice guy.”

He didn’t seem convinced but changed the subject. “What time do you close up tonight?”

“Usually about 9:30.”

The door opened, and a couple of customers walked in, chit chatting about the snowstorm that was forecast for next week.

Eli focused solely on me. “Can I pick you up for a late-night snack?”

I couldn’t stop my wide smile. “Sure.”

“Good. See you then.” He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed the back. It should have been hokey. Instead, I reddened all the way to my toes.

“Can’t wait.” My voice was breathy, his stare dizzying.

He smiled and strolled out into the cold morning.

A stupid grin graced my face for most of the day. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Chapter 13

Ezra

“The lawyer called again.” Charles eyed the stack of clothes in the center of my closet.

“Which one?” I’d picked through every shirt and sweater I owned. None were right for my date with Adeline.

“Mr. Novak.”

Greg Novak was the attorney I’d hired specifically to handle buying up Brooktown. Ruthless and direct, he was excellent at strong-arming deals for me.

“Oh. I’ll call him later.”

“He said it was urgent.” Charles clucked as I threw another rejected shirt onto the pile.

“Later.” I plucked a red and white dress shirt from its hanger. “Too candy cane?”

Charles took the shirt from my hands before I could toss it to the floor. “If you’ll allow me?”

“Yes.” I glanced at my watch. I’d spent the day doing some additional creative investigation. Sure, some might call it stalking, but I felt that term only applied to guys with super creepy motives. I wasn’t that guy. Right?

“This will do nicely.” Charles handed me a blue dress shirt and some dark gray pants.

“Tie?”

“No tie.” He pulled a white undershirt from a drawer. “Casual but nice.”

Perfect. I let out a sigh of relief and hurried to the mirror as I dressed.

“Pitch perfect.” He nodded in approval as I slipped my shoes on.

My hands were already sweaty. God, I couldn’t screw this up again.

“Have you decided to be honest with her?” Charles hovered in the closet doorway.

“Not yet. But I will.” I slipped on my watch.

He gave me a skeptical look.

“Soon. I will tell her soon. Just not right now.”

He frowned but didn’t say any more. Maybe he knew there was no point. I was determined to show Adeline a good time tonight, and I couldn’t do that as Ezra Grayson.

“Wish me luck.” I ran a hand through my hair and headed toward the door.

“Good luck, sir.” He sounded sincere, but I didn’t miss the note of apprehension. Or perhaps it was disapproval.

I shook it off. Tonight wasn’t about Eli Blackston or Ezra Grayson. It was about Adeline, and I was going to make her happy no matter what name I went by.

* * *

She waited outside her shop even though I arrived five minutes early. With a smile she stepped off the curb and opened the passenger door before I could get out to do it for her.

“Hi.” She sank down, her sweet scent sending a wave of pleasure through me.

“Good day?” I asked and waited for her to get her seatbelt fastened before hitting the gas.

“Great.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “You?”

“Long.”

“Oh?”

“Just because I wanted time to go faster so I could see you again.”

She pinned her lips together and adjusted her glasses again. “You are too much.”

She hadn’t seen anything yet.

“I hope you’re hungry.” I turned toward the square.

“It’s so busy during the holidays that Toby and I usually skip dinner, so I’m starving.”

“Perfect.”

“Not much is open this late, though. Where were you thinking?”

I reached over and took her hand in mine. “It’s a surprise.”

She wrapped her fingers around mine. A simple touch, but one that would have seemed impossible only a few days ago. I didn’t touch people and opted for gloves. But with her? I wanted every single bit of contact I could get.

I turned into the parking lot of Sid’s Soul Food.

“Oh no.” She bit her lip. “Sid’s closes at nine.”

“Usually.” I parked right out front, but careful not to stray into the handicapped spots, and got out to open her door.

I jogged to get to the door before her and barely made it.

She stepped out of the car, a sheepish smile on her angelic face. “You don’t have to open the—”

“I want to.” And if a man did any less for a woman like her, he was a fool.

“Thank you.”

“Very welcome.” I took her hand again and led her to the door.

Sid opened it for us, a smile on his wrinkled face as he ushered us inside. “Addie, good to see you hon.”

“Hi Sid. I didn’t know you had special holiday hours.” She glanced around at the empty restaurant. “Or maybe you don’t?”

“When Mr., ah—” Sid knew who I was since he was a city council member, but he’d agreed to use my false name, thinking it was harmless fun. And it was. Had to be. “Mr. Blackston called, and I can’t deny a request from a guy like him.” He waved us toward a table near the kitchen, a single candle lit in the center. “How’s my nephew doing?”

“Toby’s great. I couldn’t run my shop without him.”

“Good to know he’s doing right by you.” Sid smiled and turned toward the small drink station.

“You know Sid?” she asked as I helped her into her chair.

“Just a little.” That was true, at least.

“How often do you come to town?” She laid her napkin across her lap. “I don’t know how I’ve managed to miss you for so long. Around here, it seems like everyone knows everyone else’s business except yours.”

“I don’t visit too frequently.” I thanked Sid as he poured our drinks. Lemonade—Adeline’s favorite.

“Sid, this is so nice of you to open up for us like this.” She beamed up at him.

“No problem, Addie. It’s my pleasure. And the missus sends her thanks for your Christmas cake. I don’t know how you managed to make it taste so good without any sugar, but damn if I didn’t want to slap my mama after having a piece!” He bustled off to the kitchen. “Your grub is coming right up.”

“No sugar?” I couldn’t help myself and reached across the table for her hand. She gave it to me, and just that little bit of trust from her was the best feeling in the world.

“Geneva’s a diabetic,” she explained. “I hate for her to miss out because of her diagnosis, so I created a recipe for my Christmas cake that leaves out all the sugar and uses natural sweeteners that don’t affect her glycemic index. It’s the closest I can get it to the original recipe, so I’m always happy that she enjoys it.”

I’d thought for years that Adeline was some sort of vengeful demon who was out to finish what her father started. Instead, she was a bright angel who sweetened up the town one resident at a time. God, I’d been so foolish.

“You are too good to be true.” I laced my fingers with hers.

“No.” She dropped her gaze. “I just do the best I can.”

“Where does that come from?”

She laughed. “What?”

“Where does the will to do the right thing, be a good person, always try to brighten the lives of those around you—where does it come from?”

“You say it like you don’t have it, too.”

“I don’t.” I had no doubt of that.

“You do,” she said quietly. “I know you do. And besides, I think that desire to help is something that you get taught when you’re young. My father taught me to always leave people better than I found them.”

I swallowed my grimace. Her father certainly hadn’t left my family better off.

She continued, “So I’ve tried to live up to that as best I can. I don’t always get it right, and I fall short, but I do try. I want to live up to my father’s ideals, I guess, and I also want to live a life I’m proud of. That means helping people. Don’t you think so?”

I pondered her question for a moment before answering. “I guess I’ve always focused more on things than people.” Taking a hard look at my life wasn’t pretty, but I’d do it for her. “Things are more trustworthy. They don’t change. Let’s say I buy a house in the Hamptons. When I go back next summer, it’s still there. It hasn’t left or died or betrayed me. It’s fixed. And, better than that, its value has increased.”

“Money is important. I get that.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “I mean, the bakery is doing okay right now, but there have been plenty of times when I worried I might have to close or worse, sell it to Mr. Grayson.”

I couldn’t hide my wince, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“But more important than the actual brick and mortar shop is the people who visit. The people who light up when they taste the things I make.” She pulled her hand away and held both of them up. “I make them happy with nothing more than these two hands and some simple ingredients. It’s what keeps me going. People say that baking is chemistry. And that’s true, but it’s also love. Love is why I get up before dawn every day and walk to the bakery, turn on the ovens, and get to mixing, and rolling, and kneading, and making all those treats for the people of this town.” She returned her hand to mine and laughed. “Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away.”

“Don’t be sorry.” The awe I felt must have carried over into my voice, because she pushed her glasses up her nose with a self-conscious movement.

She was so open, so goddamn pure. And here I was, lying to her. Guilt, a foreign emotion until I met Adeline, filtered through my heart. I had to tell her the truth.

“Are you okay?” She squeezed my fingers.

“I’m fine.”

She peered at me. “You just looked sort of, I don’t know, upset.”

I took a deep breath. “Look, Adeline, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Okay.” Her bright eyes held mine. “What is it?”

A cold sweat broke out on my brow. “I just wanted to explain, you know, about this before I told you—”

“And here we are.” Sid re-entered the dining room with two loaded plates.

I bit my tongue.

“This looks amazing.” She inspected her plate piled with spicy macaroni and cheese, greens, and a smothered pork chop. “Wow, Sid.”

“My pleasure. Can I get y’all anything else?”

“No, this is great. Thanks.” I nodded at him.

“Just holler if you need me, and I’ll leave you two to your grub.” He backed through the kitchen door.

Adeline picked up her fork and paused. “Okay, go on. What did you want to say?”

I took a long drink of lemonade, my mind racing. “Just that … I really loved your gingerbread cookies, and I’ve never even liked gingerbread before.” I smiled and hoped it was convincing.

“Thanks.” She pointed to my plate. “Have you ever had Sid’s mac?”

“No.” The thought of someone else preparing my food threatened to derail me, but I forced it away. Sid’s health rating had been 100 for the past six inspections. And the seventh one, it was 99 because of a refrigerant leak that Sid hadn’t even known about.

She speared a forkful of it. “You’re going to be addicted.”

I met her eyes, the connection between us snapping taut. “I’m afraid I already am.”

Chapter 14

Adeline

I dropped into his car, my stomach and heart full. “That was the best dinner I’ve ever had.”

He slid into the already warm car and smiled. “You were right about the macaroni and cheese. Something about it being spicy just makes it ridiculously good.”

“Right?”

He cleared his throat as he backed out of the parking lot. “Home, then?”

“You may have to roll me in the front door.”

Taking my hand, he enveloped it in his bigger one. “Not to be presumptuous, but does that mean I can come in?”

Something about him asking permission made it easier, made me comfortable enough to try again. “You can come in if you’d like, but no pressure.” No, the pressure was on me. I hadn’t been with anyone in years. God, I didn’t want to do the actual math, because I may have died from embarrassment. What if I forgot what to do? What if I sucked at it? What if I hurled my macaroni and cheese? What if I—

“Hey.” He squeezed my hand. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.” I let out a long breath. “Don’t worry.”

“Not worried.” He turned onto Main Street. “Just want to make sure you’re happy. That’s the most important thing to me.”

How did he manage to say such lovely things? And how long would it last? A slight chill went through me as I considered how he’d have to leave when the holidays were over. He was just visiting his parents, after all. I hadn’t even asked him where he lived—maybe because if I knew, I would have dwelled on how far away he would be once January came. Instead, I wanted to live in this moment, to have a “fling” as Hannah called it. But the more I was with Eli, the more I realized this was more than just a one-time thing for me. And him leaving? It would leave a wound, one that grew larger each moment we were together.

“Here we are.” He opened my passenger door.

Lost in my worries, I hadn’t realized we’d stopped.

“Thanks.” I took his hand, and he helped me out.

We walked to the front door, his palm at my lower back.

With a shaking hand, I barely managed to get the key in the lock and turn it.

He nuzzled my hair, his voice silky in my ear. “Listen, if you aren’t ready—”

“I’m ready.” I pushed the door open.

Carey met me in the front hallway, his orange tabby tail fluffed as he stared up at me.

“Cat person?” Eli helped me take off my coat. We both shucked our slushy boots.

“Definitely.” I leaned down and patted Carey on the head, but he took off toward the sofa when he got a look at Eli. “Don’t take it personally. He doesn’t like anyone but me.”

“Smart cat.” He hung his coat on the hooks by the door, then prowled closer to me, pinning me between him and the wall.

My breath hitched.

“You sure you want this?” He rested his palm on my cheek, his body so close to mine but not touching.

I figured I’d give him the brief tour, pour him a drink, maybe make some awkward small talk. But I liked this much, much better. His directness was a special sort of turn-on.

“Adeline?” He leaned down, his lips a breath away from mine.

“Yes?” Whose high, breathy voice was that?

“Tell me what you want.”

“You.” The response was as natural as breathing.

“Good.” He kissed me hard, his mouth claiming mine and leaving no room for doubt. This was happening. I clutched his shirt as he pressed me against the wall, his hard body meeting mine in all the right places. His tongue caressed mine, and goosebumps raced along my arms. His hands moved to my waist.

I sucked in a little.

“What was that?” He pulled back and pressed his forehead to mine.

“I just, um. I’m not exactly thin.” I shrugged.

“You’re perfect.” He ran a hand to my ass and squeezed. “I need you to believe that. There’s nothing about you that doesn’t drive me fucking wild, Adeline.” He kissed me, teasing along my lips. “And that includes this.” He stroked my waist, my hips, and then swept his hand along the front of my thighs. “All of this.”

I caught fire when he gently pressed his hand between my legs.

“Besides,” he nipped at my bottom lip. “Who on earth would ever trust a skinny baker?”

I laughed, but he caught the sound in his mouth as he dove back in, his hands roving me. When he cupped my breast, I moaned. His thumb grazed the stiff peak through the fabric of my sweater and sent tingles rushing over my skin like an avalanche.

I reached for his shirt and began unbuttoning it. The white undershirt foiled me for a moment, but I ran my hands under it and felt his warm skin. Abs. He had abs. I wanted to lick them.

“Bedroom?” he asked between kisses.

“End of the hall.”

He grabbed my ass and lifted me to straddle him.

“Oh.” I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me swiftly down the hall to my room. I could feel his hardness with each step. Heavens.

He set me down on my bed, the low light from the bathroom the only illumination. With a quick movement, he’d dropped his button-up shirt to the floor and stripped off his white t-shirt. Miles of smooth skin, the sexy V of his hips cutting along where his pants hit him.

I slid my glasses off and dropped them on the bedside table. My hands were shaking again. Could I do this? I hadn’t been naked in front of anyone in so long. Self-consciousness tried to sneak up on me again.

“I want to see you. All of you.” He tilted my chin up and kissed me again. He trailed his hands down my side and pulled on the hem of my sweater.

I lifted my arms, desire beating back whatever worry my brain tried to throw at me. He peeled the sweater off, then reached behind me to unhook my bra. Once he’d tossed it on the floor, he dropped to his knees and pulled me to him, his lips skirting along my chest and down the valley between my breasts. Each caress was like a drop of molten heat on my skin, and I ran my hands through his hair and pulled on the dark strands.

He kissed to one nipple and circled it with his tongue. I gasped as he pulled it into his mouth. So much sensation rushed through me that I tried to clench my thighs together. But he was between them, his narrow waist snugged against me. He licked and sucked the other nipple, his large palms kneading my breasts as I got lost in the feeling of his mouth on me.

When he kissed down my stomach, I told myself not to wince. But his kisses were so loving, as if he was worshipping my body, that my self-consciousness finally took a backseat. He unbuttoned my pants and slid down the zipper.

He looked up at me, his eyes dark in the low light. “Do you have any clue how beautiful you are?”

I may have died right then, but I came back to life quickly because he pulled my pants and panties off in a smooth movement. Totally naked. In front of a man. A man who was spreading my knees with his palms, his gaze fastened between my legs.

He licked his lips.

I died again.

When he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my stomach, and then another lower, then lower, I was alive and shivering with need.

“So pink and perfect.” He ran the broad side of his tongue along my most sensitive skin.

“Oh my god.” I lay back on my elbows as he spread me even wider.

He pressed his mouth to me, his tongue darting out and circling my clit.

“Eli!”

He paused for a moment, his brow wrinkling.

“What’s wro—” He licked again, and every thought I may have had evaporated. I jolted as he lingered at my clit, his tongue pressing against it and moving in slow pulses.

“Sweet. Just like I imagined.” He splayed his hands on my inner thighs.

Taking his time, he licked me lazily, each sweep bringing a moan from me as I arched and pressed myself onto his face. All embarrassment was gone, and I was consumed by the need to find my release. I chased it with abandon as he kept his pace slow and slid a hand down my thigh.

“Please.” I gasped as he sucked my clit between his teeth.

“Mmm?” He stared up at me while his tongue did wicked things.

“I want—” Heat rushed through me. “I want your fingers.”

“Anything you want, I’ll gladly give.” He pressed a finger inside me, his mouth still working me with steady pressure.

I moaned and worked my hips in a quickening rhythm. He matched it, his finger and tongue working in unison.

He groaned against me and my hips rose even higher. I needed all the contact I could get. An invisible coil inside me wound tighter and tighter. With his free hand, he wrapped first one leg, then the other around his head, my knees hooked over his shoulders.

It was hot, beyond explicit, and so, so good.

He added another finger, stretching me. If his fingers felt this good, what would the rest of him be like? Just the thought of him inside me sent another shock of tension between my thighs.

When he fastened his lips to my clit and sucked again, any last semblance of thought turned into a poof of powdered sugar dust. I ached for release, and I needed him to give it to me.

“I-I’m—”

“Give me all that sweetness,” he growled against me.

I pumped my hips again, his face buried between my thighs.

My breath stopped, and I tensed until my muscles began to shake. He curled his fingers inside me and plunged them deeper. A wrenching orgasm ripped through me. My body tightened and released in a steady procession of pleasure. All of it emanating from his mouth and fingers, each wave cresting with cries of bliss from my lips. I gripped the bedspread until the waves lessened, only lapping at me in aftershocks.

He kissed me, his tongue darting against my clit a few more times as I jolted beneath him.

I tangled a hand in my hair. “That was …” I couldn’t think of a word.

He kissed up my body and lingered on my neck. “If that’s all you want tonight, I’ll understand. I enjoyed every second of it.” His teeth grazed along the tender spot below my ear. “But I’d prefer to be inside you, if that’s an option.”

Chapter 15

Ezra

“Yes.” She laced her fingers behind my neck.

My heart dropped a few beats. “Yes, that’s all you want?” I leaned over her.

Her smile could have melted the North Pole. “No.” She laughed and pulled me down to her mouth. The kiss was answer enough. I settled on top of her, my hips between her thighs. My cock was harder than granite, but I wanted to take my time with her. She felt so good beneath me, her curves molding to my sharp edges. Opposites in every way, which must have been the reason we fit together perfectly.

She ran her hands down my back, the soft feel of her palms igniting even more need inside me.

Rising to my feet, I unclasped my pants and pushed them and my boxers down. She sat up, her eyes going straight to my cock. It pulsed in answer.

“Wow.”

“I could get used to that.” I wasn’t the sort to brag about size, but I made a good showing.

She reached out and took me in her palm. When she squeezed to try and touch her thumb and middle finger together, my hips jerked.

“Adeline.” I ran a hand through her hair. “You don’t have to—”

She licked the head of my cock, and I almost lost it right then. When she took me in her mouth, I clutched her hair, gripping her hard as she ran her tongue up and down my length.

Pulling back, she stared up at me. “Is this okay?” She glanced away. “I haven’t done this in a really long time, so I don’t want to—”

“You’re perfect.” I cupped her cheek.

“Okay.” She nodded, as if satisfied, and continued her exploration.

With her palm squeezing the base of my cock, she slid me into her wet mouth, her tongue lapping at the underside of my cock.

I groaned and tried not to push into her, but that was a losing battle. My hips worked with her, pulsing into her hot mouth as she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked. I wouldn’t last like this. No man could withstand her, not when she looked up with those lust-hazed eyes.

Pulling back, I leaned down and hugged her to me, lifting her to the center of the bed.

Easing down onto her, I hesitated. “I, um, I haven’t done this in—” a decade, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it to her, “a while, and I didn’t think to bring a—”

“Are you clear?” She rose up and kissed me again.

“I don’t have any, you know, issues.” I didn’t want to kill the mood, but I needed her to know she was always safe with me.

“Me neither. And I’m on birth control for other reasons.”

“Okay.” My mind spun. I was going to be inside her the way I’d been dreaming about. Nothing separating us. My cock throbbed mercilessly. “You sure?”

“Yes.” She pressed her palm to my chest. “I’m ready.”

I pressed my body to hers, feeling every bit of her soft skin and the warm paradise between her thighs. When my cock head slid along her wetness, I groaned and fisted the bedspread.

She spread her legs wider, urging me on. I didn’t need the encouragement. With a smooth push, I entered her slowly.

“Mmmm.” Her nails dug into my shoulders.

I balanced on my elbows, my muscles struggling to obey my command to go gently. Everything in me roared to shove all the way home, to leave my mark on Adeline so that she would always know she was mine. I stilled when I realized I would never let her go.

“You okay?” Her eyes were at half-mast, her lips puffy from my rough kisses. Gorgeous.

“I’m amazing. Because I’m with you.” I bent down to her neck and sucked her skin between my teeth.

She gasped.

With steady pressure, I pushed the rest of the way inside her. Tight and hot, she was utterly delectable. Giving her a moment to adjust, I kissed down to her breasts and nibbled at her nipple, sucking it as she arched and pulled my hair. So damn sexy. She had no idea the power she held over me.

I pulled out to the tip and thrust back into that sweet vise.

She moaned low in her throat. That sound snapped whatever control I’d been able to muster. Reclaiming her mouth, I pressed hard and deep inside her. She drew her legs up, her heels pressing into the backs of my thighs as I began a quick rhythm. Each impact heightened my pleasure, sending me into a sweet euphoria as I worshipped her body with mine.

Her hips rose up to meet mine, the two of us working as one. Nothing had ever felt so good. And I knew nothing ever would. Only Adeline.

“What do you need?” I licked and sucked her neck, the taste of her skin sweet and sultry. “I want to feel you shatter.”

She dug her nails into my back as I palmed her breast, the ripe mound perfect in my hand. “Harder.”

That word on her lips almost did me in. I pistoned into her and squeezed her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She threw her head back, her body arching as I gave her what she wanted. My release was close, and I had to concentrate on her pleasure to stop myself from filling her. Each moan or whimper from her threatened to push me over the edge, but I held on.

When her hips seized, I stayed deep, grinding against her clit. Her breath caught, and she moaned low and husky. So sexy.

I could feel her walls pulsing around me as she came, her body unfurling like a flower. She was too much. I pumped a few more times, holding on until she’d chased her release to the very end. Then I pulled out, barely making it in time. My climax ripped through me like a wildfire, and I shot onto her fair stomach, each jet of heat wringing delirious bliss from me.

My groan was more animal than man, the satisfaction so deep that I thought I might drown. I wouldn’t have minded, not when it meant drowning in Adeline.

She pressed her palm to her forehead. “Oh my god. That was … You were …”

I leaned down and kissed her. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” She smiled, her cheeks pink and her eyelids heavy.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” I followed the bathroom light, fumbled around, and eventually made it back with a warm washcloth.

“Thanks.” She pulled the sheet up and scooted over.

I climbed in next to her and tugged her to my side. “I hope this is okay.”

“What?” Her voice was sleepy, sated.

“Me staying.”

“Of course it’s okay.” She laughed. “I wouldn’t kick you out after that performance.”

“Good.” I kissed her crown as she snuggled against my chest. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Then don’t.” She yawned. “But don’t get mad when my alarm goes off at 4:30.”

“The bakery life?” I closed my eyes, drinking in this perfect moment.

“Always. Bakers gonna bake, bake, bake, bake, ba…” She drifted off, her singsong voice fading.

Chapter 16

Adeline

“Again?” Hannah peeled the wrapper off a red velvet cupcake.

It was the third night that Eli had come to pick me up from the bakery.

“Don’t start the cockblock this early. Besides, it’s Saturday night. Totally on point for a date.” Toby wiped down the counter.

“I’m not cockblocking.” She took a big bite, some of the cream cheese frosting ending up on the tip of her nose. “I’m just thinking this whole thing is moving kind of fast, you know?” she said through a mouthful of cupcake.

“We just like each other’s company.” I shrugged. She’d already gotten the nitty gritty details from me despite my protestations.

“From what you’ve said—and the look on your face every morning—the sex is epic.” Toby leaned on the counter. “You’re happy and even peppier than usual. I think you should just keep rolling with it.”

“Yeah, but what do we really know about this guy?” Hannah’s perfect eyebrows lowered. “I mean, he just showed up in town last week and swept Adeline off her feet, but what’s the plan? Where’s he from? When does he go back? Have you met his family that lives in town? What’s the endgame here?”

“I hate to say this.” Toby gave Hannah his usual disapproving glare as she finished her cupcake. “But Hannah actually has a point this time. What do you know about him? Other than the steamy bits, you haven’t shared much.”

I crossed my arms. “You two hounded me for an entire day to get the steamy bits!”

“Well, now we want the rest.” He shook his head when Hannah pointed to one of the shortbread cookies in the case, then turned his attention back to me. “What’s this guy’s story besides being a generous, well-endowed bed buddy?”

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“She’s uncomfortable.” Hannah pointed. “She did the hair tuck.”

I put my hands at my sides. “Look, we’re taking it one day at a time. He’s in town to visit his family. He’s some sort of investment guy—he buys businesses, I think—from Chicago. And I assume he’ll have to go back there once the holidays are over.” My heart chilled, my eyes threatening to water at the thought of him leaving. “But we are enjoying our time together now.” I kicked my chin up. “And for the first time in a long time, I’m having fun, letting go, living in the moment. I thought that’s what you two wanted me to do?”

“It is,” they said in unison.

Hannah gave up on getting Toby to hand over the shortbread. “We just want to make sure he’s not married with three kids and using you for his holiday fun.”

My mouth dropped open. That had never occurred to me. “Eli wouldn’t do that.”

“Okay.” Toby gave Hannah a dark look, as if to say ‘quit pushing her.’

But Hannah had never been one to heed warnings. “Where do his parents live? I’ve never met a Blackston in town.”

“Out near the old sock factory.” My tone was defensive, but I couldn’t help it. Their inquisition seemed unfair, especially when Eli wasn’t here to answer for himself. I knew he’d say he wasn’t married, wasn’t playing me. Wouldn’t he?

“Have you met them? I don’t know any Blackstons either.” Toby rubbed his stubbly chin.

“No. I mean, it’s a bit early to be meeting parents, isn’t it?” I glanced at the door. Eli would be here any minute. “Are you trying to say he’s lying about his parents?”

Hannah held up a hand. “I’m not saying that. It’s just odd that none of us townies have ever met them, is all.”

My palms went sweaty. I hated confrontation. But they were pushing too far. “Why can’t you two just let me have this? I’m having a great time. This is the first Christmas since Dad died that I’m truly enjoying the holidays, not just going through the motions. Eli is the reason for it. So why do you two have to pick it apart and jump to conclusions? The worst sort of conclusions, too.”

“We just don’t want you to get hurt.” Hannah squeezed my arm. “That’s all.”

“I’m not going to get hurt.” Was I already attached to Eli? Yes. Did I think about him constantly? Definitely. But I refused to contemplate what would happen when the holidays were over. Instead, I intended to spend Christmas cuddled up with him whenever I could. I would deal with the future when it came.

I took a deep breath and let it out. “I know you are only trying to protect me. I get it.” They were good friends, and this was why. They always had my best interests at heart. “But my eyes are open, okay? I know this could end—” I had to force myself to continue despite the ache in my heart “—as quickly as it began. But it’s worth it. The way he makes me feel—like I’m precious, beautiful, special—I’ve never had that. So I want to keep it for as long as I can.”

“I think you’re precious, beautiful, and special.” Toby grinned.

“Me too,” Hannah added hastily.

“Thanks, guys.” I opened my arms. Hannah came in for a hug, then Toby piled on.

The doorbell tinkled.

“What did I miss?” Eli smiled and walked in, snowflakes melting in his dark hair.

“Just friendly bonding.” Toby gave me one more hug, then backed off.

Hannah kept snuggling until I laughed and disentangled from her.

“Don’t let me interrupt.” Eli unwrapped his dark blue scarf.

“We were just finishing up the group hug.” Hannah perched her butt against the counter. “How are you this evening?”

“Better now that I’m here.”

I grabbed my coat and scarf. “I’ll see you two on Monday.”

“Sure thing.” Hannah grinned like the Cheshire cat. “I’ll help Toby close up. Maybe skim some cash from the till, eat all the shortbread, raid the icing stash.”

“You will do no such thing!” Toby pointed a finger at her and blocked the opening that led behind the counter.

“Are they always like this?” Eli’s amusement was infectious.

“Only on days that end in ‘y’.” I walked over to him and sighed as he pulled me into his arms.

“Good. They’ll keep you on your toes.” He kissed my forehead.

“You’re the one who does that.” To demonstrate, I lifted onto my tiptoes to drop a kiss on his lips.

“Get a room,” Toby muttered.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it from my pocket, then stowed it just as quickly.

Eli raised a brow at me.

“Perry has been texting me, trying to get me to meet with him for brunch tomorrow. Said he wants to talk.” I gave Eli a sly smile. “But I seem to be busy.”

“Very busy.” He squeezed my hip. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be having breakfast in bed tomorrow morning.” He licked his lips and gave me a heated once-over. “I know I will be.”

“Lord.” Toby fanned his face with his hand.

Can someone die of blushing?

I pulled my red knit cap over my head to try and push past the moment. “Monday morning. We’ll need to start at four if we want to get everything ready for the rush. And remember we’re open next Sunday since Christmas is that Tuesday.”

“I know, I know.” Toby waved a hand at me while still blocking the hovering Hannah. “No rest for the wicked.”

Eli helped me with my coat.

Hannah put a hand to her mouth and stage-whispered to Toby. “Look how he treats her. Let’s keep him.”

“Let’s go before they embarrass me more.” I pushed out into the cold night.

“I think they’re good for you.” He followed me out into a light flurry.

“How’s that?” I glanced at him over my shoulder.

“Toby is your right-hand man at the shop and Hannah is the comic relief.” He opened his passenger door for me, the car warm as usual.

“Don’t sell Toby short. He’s pretty comical, too.” I put my hands over the vent as he piled in the driver’s side. “They’re my family. Ever since my dad passed, I’ve leaned on them, and they’ve always been there for me. So, yeah, they’re good for me.” I tried to pinch my lips together to hold in the words that wanted to bubble out. It didn’t work. “I think you’re good for me, too,” I blurted.

He reached over and grabbed my hand. “If I’m good for you, you’re spectacular for me.”

I pushed my glasses up my nose but wound up poking myself between the eyes because I wasn’t wearing my glasses.

“Cute.” He leaned over and grabbed a fistful of my coat, pulling me to him. “Cute and sweet.” His lips took mine, overwhelming me with his unexpected passion.

We kissed like teenagers, making out for long minutes as the Grayson shops along the street went dark and the town slowly fell asleep.

He abruptly pulled back and put the car in gear. “I need to get you somewhere private. Now.”

“Now?” I teased and grabbed the door handle as he jetted from the curb.

“Right now,” he growled and took the streets to my house with quick precision.

Though the trip was short and his kisses had lit my fuse, my desire was dampened somewhat by Toby’s and Hannah’s concerns.

I twined my fingers together as worries began to swirl inside me. Had I let myself get in too deep with Eli? The thought of him leaving after the holidays was like a rusty blade in my side. So, yeah, I was invested. Too invested. When he left—and the reasonable part of me knew he would leave—I would be worse off than I was before I met him. Back then, at least I didn’t know what I was missing. Now, I knew what it felt like to be cherished by someone, to have feelings grow, and to want more than just a date or two before I retreated into my bakery and claimed I was too busy for a relationship.

“What’s going on in that amazing brain of yours?” He reached over and stroked my cheek.

“Nothing.” I closed my eyes at his gentle touch.

“Something.” He parked in front of my house and turned to me. “Tell me.”

I sighed. “No. I don’t want to ruin this.” I met his gaze, the green of his eyes already familiar and soothing.

“You couldn’t ruin this. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m crazy about you. Have been since the first moment I saw you.” He furrowed his brow. “But have I done something wrong?”

“No.” I wished I hadn’t been so transparent with my troubled thoughts. “Of course not.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just—” My fingers wrestled each other. “I’ve been trying to keep this compartmentalized, you know? So I won’t get hurt. And I thought I was doing a good job of it, but it turns out I’m not.”

He quirked his lips. “Not sure I follow.”

“Well, I mean that you, you know, you don’t live here. Just here for the holidays.” My voice was getting higher, flustered, but I kept going. “And then you’re going to eventually leave and go back to your job and your city and all that, which is far away from me.” God, why were my eyes watering? “I’ve been trying to keep it light and not get too attached, but …”

“But?” He stared at me with a focus that almost burned.

“But I’m afraid I’ve messed up.” A tear jumped for freedom, sliding down my cheek.

He wiped it away with his thumb. “Don’t cry, beautiful.”

“It’s just that you’re going to leave.” Another tear fell. “And I’ll miss you.”

“Shh.” He kissed me softly. “Don’t worry about that.”

“I’ve been trying not to.” I shrugged, not trusting my voice to keep going.

“You think I’m going to let you go?” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Not a chance.”

“But—” I had to take a deep breath to stop a sob.

“This isn’t a holiday fling, Adeline. You and me—we’re the real deal. I’m never going to turn my back on that. No matter what.” His lips feathered across mine. “Okay?”

I tried not to sniffle but failed. “Okay.”

“Good. Now, where was I?” He rested a hand on my throat and deepened our kiss, the deliciousness of his touch easing my fears.

Maybe my heart was safe with him after all.

I said a silent Christmas wish that it would be true, then gave myself to him in every way that mattered.

Chapter 17

Ezra

I donned a blue Henley and picked a lighter gray coat from my closet.

“I approve.” Charles appeared in the closet doorway.

“Good.” I smoothed my hair down and checked myself in the mirror. “Today’s the day.”

“The day?” He plucked a pair of brown shoes from the rack for me.

“I’m going to tell her.”

He handed me the shoes. “I think that’s best.”

I’d been steeling myself for hours, going through all the different ways this could turn out in my head. A few of them ended with Adeline slapping me and storming off, but most of them turned out a bit happier. I’d have to apologize and grovel—which I had absolutely no problem with. After all, I was in the wrong, and I would accept the punishment for it. But as long as I still had a chance to be with her, it was worth it. If I kept lying, there would be zero chance. So, today was the day.

“Springing it on her at work?” Charles was an expert at saying something with only the slightest tone—usually disapproval—but making a huge impact all the same.

“No.” I finished tying my shoes. “Well, sort of. I’m going to pick her up for lunch. I already cleared it with her worker Toby. He’s in on it. I’ll pick her up for lunch, take her to eat, then bring her here.”

“Here, sir?”

“I want to show her all of me, every last bit. My home seems like the best place to start.” I put confidence in my words, but my mouth was already dry, my ears hot.

“I’ll have it tip top before you return.”

“It’s already spotless. Don’t worry.”

“Yes, sir.” He agreed, but I could tell he was doing a mental inventory of all the things he intended to clean while I was out.

This was it. I was going to bare myself—heart and soul—to Adeline. I only hoped she’d like what she saw.

* * *

Main Street was busy, cars in almost every parking spot as people hurried about with shopping bags. With one week till Christmas Eve, everyone was in the spending mood, which was good for all the Grayson businesses lining the streets.

I pulled up about a block away from the bakery, taking the first parking spot I saw. The short walk would help settle my nerves, maybe cut through the anxiety that ran through me like an electrical current.

My shoe store had a line at the register and several people trying on new pairs or speaking with my sales associates. Next door at my children’s wear shop, plenty of parents were perusing the racks for the newest styles. Each shop I passed was filled with people buying gifts for their loved ones. Before Adeline, I wouldn’t have thought past the extra padding all these shoppers would bring to my pockets. But now, I actually thought about the reason they were out in the cold looking for the perfect item for their friends or family. Love. The same reason I fell asleep thinking about Adeline and woke up the same way.

The plain swags along the front of my stores seemed lackluster and cold. I would change all that, do more to brighten Brooktown with the same Christmas spirit that Adeline practically glowed with. Making her proud was more important than whatever silly idea I’d had about the holidays being nothing more than moneymakers. Hell, I’d light up Main Street just as bright as the town Christmas tree if Adeline wanted me to. Christmas cheer as far as the eye could see. I smiled at the thought, my steps taking me to the front of her bakery although my head was lost in daydreams of Christmas with Adeline.

I stopped short as I reached for the door. “What are you doing out here?”

Adeline stood with her back to her bright window with the neon candy canes. Her face was pale, and Toby stood beside her with one hand on her elbow, as if supporting her. Both of them stared at something across the street.

I turned.

My stomach clenched.

My heart went into freefall.

There, with a large “Now Open” banner in Christmas colors, sat Grayson’s Bakery, a line of customers out the front door.

Chapter 18

Adeline

“Eli.” I clutched him, my eyes watering and the ground falling from beneath my feet.

He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fastened on the new bakery directly across the street. A sign by the door advertised a free Christmas cake to the first fifty customers, and a line had already formed that led onto the cold sidewalk.

“He finally did it,” Toby said bitterly. “Old man Grayson finally pulled out all the stops. That low down dirty motherf—”

“I can’t believe it.” I’d said the same thing over and over from the moment Mr. Novak—Ezra Grayson’s lawyer—yanked the canvas away from the sign and revealed my doom. “I just can’t believe it.”

This town could only support one bakery, and my margins were already razor thin. Even if my shop still got the lion’s share of the business, it would fail. I couldn’t make it, not with Grayson’s competition. Mr. Novak had sauntered across the street to gloat, no doubt, but Toby’s thunderous gaze sent him scurrying back to the brand new bakery.

“It’s over.” I finally understood the meaning of the word ‘dumbstruck’.

“I have half a mind to march over there and cuss out everyone standing in that line,” Toby half-yelled. A few of the Grayson customers huddled closer to the building, but they didn’t leave. Not even the ones I recognized.

“No. It doesn’t matter. Not anymore. This is the end.”

Toby shook his head. “The shop can make it. We can still—”

“No,” I said more forcefully than I intended. “He knew this would destroy me. He’s been working on getting this bakery completed for months. Must’ve gotten the permits from the city on the sly. No one breathed a word about it. He’s been planning this, and now he’s won. I give up.” I buried my face in my hands, shame and sadness blurring through my tears. “You were right, Toby.” My voice was muffled, broken. “Grayson is a hideous miser with no love or happiness in his heart. You were right all along. I was stupid to try and win him over with a dumb cake every year. So stupid.” I sobbed.

Eli stood still as stone beside me. He must have been just as angry as Toby.

“Addie!” someone called.

I buried my face in Eli’s chest. His arms came around me, but he didn’t say anything.

“Addie!” The voice came again. Perry. Just what I needed to seal the deal on the second-worst day of my life.

“She’s not in a good place right now, Perry.” Toby moved closer to me.

“I should say not!” He stopped right behind me. “Get away from her, asshole.”

“What?” I turned to glare at him, but he was scowling at Eli. “What’s wrong with you?”

He put his hands on his hips. “There is no Eli Blackston.”

I could feel the stress headache setting up shop in my temples. “What?”

Toby held up a hand. “Look, man, I know you’re jonesing for Addie, but this is not the time to start—”

“Did you hear me?” Perry barked. “This man right here is not Eli Blackston. Eli Blackston doesn’t exist.”

“What?” I understood his words, but they didn’t make sense. I turned back to Eli. “What’s he talking about?”

The anguish in his eyes was like a slap to the face. Something was wrong. Badly wrong.

“Eli?” I stepped back, losing the warmth of his arms.

“Want to explain, or shall I?” Perry didn’t bother hiding the note of triumph.

“Adeline.” Eli took a deep breath. “It’s true. My name’s not Eli Blackston.”

My lip trembled, and I bit it to make it stop. The world was cracking around me, but I couldn’t look away from Eli. No, not Eli. Who? Who was the man I’d let into my bed, and worse, my heart? God, I’d been such a fool. I should have known it was too good to be true. It was too fast, too perfect. And now my ruin and humiliation were entwined, tied up like a big Christmas bow.

“Who are you?” I stared into the green eyes I thought I knew.

He reached for me, then dropped his hand. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I wanted to tell you a million times, but I couldn’t do it, not when I knew it could end this incredible thing we have going.” He stepped closer, but slowly, as if afraid I’d bolt. “I never wanted to hurt you. But I was stupid and started this out all wrong. And then I didn’t have the nerve to come clean when I should have. I—”

“He’s Ezra Grayson!” Perry cawed. “Ezra Grayson—this whole time. He’s the one who’s been hassling you for years, the one who sends that damn lawyer to harass you, the one who just killed your business.”

My gorge rose, but I swallowed hard. “That’s not possible. Grayson is an old man. Mrs. Carnegie said her friend saw him and he was—”

“Wrong.” Perry couldn’t contain his glee. “All wrong. A lot of the paperwork and some of the business deals were done in Ezra Grayson’s father’s name—Ezra senior. But he died a few years back, and turns out his son was the one doing all the buying and selling in this town.” He pointed at Eli, or was it Ezra? “This is the real Ezra Grayson, I promise you.”

I met the green eyes again, the face that I saw in my dreams and fantasized about when awake. “Is it true?” My voice was barely more than a whisper. I had to ask, even though my heart already knew the answer.

“Yes.” He held my gaze.

“You did this?” I pointed a shaking finger at the bakery across the street.

“Adeline, can we talk in private, so I can explain?” He looked at me with such gentleness. Somehow it made it worse.

“YOU DID THIS?” My voice croaked, my heart audibly breaking.

“Yes, but—”

“You did this so that you could finally shut me down? You pretended to be interested in me. Used me. Oh, God.” I wanted to yank on my hair and scream. “And all those times I sent you a Christmas cake, an olive branch from me to you. I thought I was being kind to someone who needed a little love on the holidays. But you were sitting there thinking of ways to get to me, to finally make me sell. And now you’ve done it.” I took a shuddering breath between sobs. “All those times, what did you do with them, with my cakes?”

“I didn’t realize they were meant as a peace offering. I thought they were … It doesn’t matter what I thought.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I was wrong about them. About you.”

I kept my tone as measured as possible. “What did you do with them?”

He dropped his gaze, shame covering him like a dusting of snow. “I threw them out.”

I nodded. Of course he tossed them out. Mrs. Carnegie had been half right. He wasn’t an old miser. He was a young one—ruthless and determined to get his way, no matter the cost.

“Adeline, please. What I feel for you is real. I didn’t realize—”

“You need to leave.” Toby stepped between us, his back to me. “Now.”

“If you’d let me explain—”

“No.” Toby put a hand back to keep me steady. “You are leaving now or one of us is going to wind up in the hospital. Spoiler alert: the ‘one of us’ is you.”

“Better go, Ezra,” Perry taunted.

Numb. I had gone numb. Like I’d been outside in a blizzard without a coat. Snow blind and frozen, I let Toby lead me into the bakery. He closed the door behind us and flipped the lock. Perry knocked, but Toby shook his head.

I cast one look behind me.

Eli stood there looking as devastated as I felt. But it wasn’t Eli. It never was. It was a mask, a ruse to break me down so that Grayson could finally get what he wanted.

With the bakery across the street, he’d done it.

He’d won.

I was broken just as he’d intended. Turning my back on him, I hoped I never saw his face again.

Chapter 19

Ezra

“You were running a pretty good game there for a minute.” Perry sauntered up next to me. “But you got sloppy.”

All I could do was stare at the bakery window as Toby pulled Adeline away and into the back of the shop. What had I done?

“I mean, you did get to tap that, so that’s a win,” Perry jeered. “I’ve been working on that for years, and here you just swoop in and take it right out from under me. But now that you’ve blown it, I’ll be the one to pick up the pieces.”

“Stay away from her.” I wanted to follow her, to beg her to hear me out, to do anything I could to fix this. But the hurt on her face, the tears on her cheeks, and the shock that seemed to reverberate through her entire being told me that this wasn’t something that could be patched over tonight. Not with words. Not with anything.

Perry chuckled. “Being Addie’s rebound will be my pleasure in every possible way. I’ll finally get my chance. Really, I should be thanking you.” He leaned closer, his beady eyes slightly squinted. “Tell me, just between us, does she taste as sweet as the rest of her goods? I mean, I’m going to find out for myself, but I’d like a hint from you.”

My fist shot out before the reasonable part of my brain could nix the action. The impact jarred my arm and sent shards of pain through my knuckles, but seeing Perry’s greasy blond hair flying backwards and the look of dismay on his face was worth it. He went down, crashing to the icy sidewalk—probably more from surprise than the actual blow.

I shook off my hand, loathing the fact that I’d touched him with my bare skin. His germs were contaminating me, but I had more pressing issues to take care of. I’d douse my arm with alcohol later.

“Do not talk about her like that.” I leaned over him. “Even if she never speaks to me again, you will treat her with respect or I will put you in a world of hurt. Do you understand?”

He skittered back along the concrete. “Stay away.”

I darted forward and gripped the front of his coat and shook him. “I asked you if you understood.”

“Yes!” he screamed. Not yelled or hollered, full-on screamed.

I let him go and turned to the bakery across the street. Several of the people in line gawked at us, but quickly looked away as I strode across the blacktop. A car skidded to a halt and honked at me. I ignored it.

The bakery was packed, people sitting at the tables and standing in line for the free cakes. Workers hurried around behind the counter, and Greg Novak, my acquisitions attorney, stood at the back of the tumult, a permanently surly look on his face. His gray mustache twitched when he saw me approaching.

“Boss.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the din of chatter.

“What the hell is this?” My booming voice silenced the nearby tables.

His mustache turned down on the corners, giving him a Wilford Brimley look. “It’s the bakery you wanted.” He pointed to a back hallway and headed toward it.

I followed. “This bakery wasn’t supposed to open until January.”

“I know.” He led me into the business office, the smell of fresh paint heavy on the air. “But you’ve been riding my ass for years to get that bakery shut down, and this year you’ve pushed harder than ever. When you told me to open a bakery as the death blow, I did what you asked.”

“January!” I wanted to shake him, to grab him and shove him up against the freshly painted wall. The competing bakery had been one of my more devious ideas, but it wasn’t supposed to happen until January. I’d already decided to call it off and quietly dismantle the shop after Christmas. I thought I had time to make it right. The spirits could do it all in one night. Since I was no Christmas ghost, I figured a mortal like me could clear everything up in two weeks. That’s how long I had to stop the bakery before Adeline got wind of it. But Greg Novak had gone and done a Tiny Tim, making a miraculous recovery and actually doing his job well for once.

I fisted my hands, the right knuckles aching. “I told you the bakery was to open in January.”

“Surprise,” he deadpanned. “I figured we’d really kill her off for good and all if we undercut her Christmas cakes—the ones you’ve bitched about for going on what, five years? So yeah, I took some initiative and got the ball rolling a bit quicker. To make you happy. To give you a little Christmas cheer. To maybe get a bonus for once.” He glowered, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. “But I see that was all for nothing, because despite the fact that I did exactly what you wanted, you still aren’t happy.”

“Shut it down.”

The gray mustache twitched. “Say what now?”

“I said shut it down. It’s over.”

“Shut it down?” He crossed his arms over his pot belly. “I’ve got hundreds of cakes in the coolers, the line is about to wrap around the block, and her Christmas business is all but dead! This is what you wanted.”

He was right. This was the outcome I’d wanted for years. What a miserable waste of space I had been. What an absolute heel. Adeline was right to walk away from me. But I could make it right. Some of it, at least. There was no way I could repair the trust I’d broken with my lies. I’d set out to destroy her, but discovered I needed her. In the end, I’d destroyed myself.

“You’re right.” I sighed. “This is what I wanted. You did what I asked, and I appreciate it.”

He made a hmph noise. “That’s more like it.”

“You’ll get a Christmas bonus. Ten percent of your annual salary.”

His bushy eyebrows rose.

“But you’ll get twenty percent if you close this shop down right now.”

His eyebrows hit his thin hairline. “Are you certain?”

“I am. I don’t want another sale. Stop it all. Tell the workers they will be given three months of pay and dismiss them. Tell the customers that if they want a Christmas cake or any bakery items, to visit Adeline’s shop.”

“I don’t understand.” He shook his head.

“You don’t need to. Just get it done.”

“On it.” He opened the office door and strode out. A few seconds later, his tinny voice shot through a loudspeaker system. “The shop is closed, folks. Sorry for the inconvenience. No more sales will take place. Please exit the premises.” He cleared his throat, and with a somewhat grudging tone, said, “And if you want any bakery items, please visit the shop across the street. Thank you.”

I kept replaying the moment in my mind—the second when she realized what that dipshit Perry had been saying was true. The pain in her eyes hit me like a gut punch over and over. I’d dimmed her light. That bright, warm glow that lit the world up around her. It would glow again. She had too much heart to let it go out for good, and I would do whatever I had to just to see it one more time.

This wasn’t the time for self-pity. I forced my shoulders back. I’d screwed up. Bigtime. But I would spend the rest of my days trying to make it up to her. There was no one else in the world, as far as I was concerned. She was everything to me.

I pushed out the door into the main dining room. It was cleared, the tables empty.

Novak stood at the window, his hands on his hips and a hangdog look on his face.

He reached to the table on his right and grabbed a cup of coffee. “To be honest, the cakes weren’t much good. Came from a factory outfit over in New Jersey.” He took a sip. “But the coffee is choice. Free trade beans and top of the line equipment to brew it.”

Coffee.

I turned and watched the staff wipe down the counters, their faces glum. An idea began to percolate.

“Novak.”

“Yep.”

“How long will it take to get the construction crew back out here?”

He pursed his lips. “They just finished this morning. So they’re around. I doubt they have any other jobs right now with Christmas a week away.”

“Call them. I want them here as soon as possible.”

He put the coffee down. “I know that tone. I’ve heard it on the phone a million times. What’ve you got cooking up in that brain of yours?”

The food in the cases looked factory perfect. No heart went into the cookies’ or cupcakes’ creation. Nothing here was a match for the handmade items across the street. But I knew Adeline’s business was just shy of struggling. Even crappy competition would sting, just for the fact that it was something new and different.

This shop had to go. It was the only way Adeline could stay afloat. But that didn’t mean the space had to be empty.

My gaze lingered on the neon candy canes in the window across the street, and for a moment I imagined Adeline in her window looking out, her warmth putting a soft glow on the world.

For her, I would do whatever it took.

I pointed to Novak. “Just get the crew here.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m on it.”

I eyed the “Grayson’s Bakery” logo on the walls and the cases full of baked goods that likely came out of a freezer. “And tell them to bring demolition equipment.”

Chapter 20

Adeline

“At least it’s closed.” Toby slung a hand towel over his shoulder and flipped the switch to light up the front window. “But I have no idea what the hell they are doing over there now.”

I stared across the street at the dark storefront that was once again covered with scaffolding, workmen yanking at the “Grayson’s Bakery” sign while others papered over the front windows. Hammering, sawing, and what could only be described as ‘wrecking’ echoed down the street.

“It’s like he’s taking it apart at a molecular level.” Toby nodded. “Good.”

I blinked, my puffy eyes aching. “Right.”

“Why don’t you go home, Addie? I’ve got this. Baking is already done, just need to do the icing on some Christmas cakes and finish up the candy cane shortbreads. Easy peasy.”

“No.” I didn’t want to be alone. Hannah had stayed with me the whole night while I cried. When my alarm went off at four, I couldn’t stay in bed. Not when I’d gotten up that early for so many years, not when I’d worked so hard for so long just to keep my bakery afloat. “I’d rather be here.” I didn’t say ‘because here I’ll at least make an attempt not to cry my eyes out,’ but it was implied.

“You sure? That storm is supposed to get here this evening. Maybe you should go ahead and hunker down before the snow dump starts.”

“I’m good.” I unlocked the front door and returned behind the counter.

“As long as you’re sure.” His too-gentle tone was starting to chafe. “You want to do customers or icing?”

“I’m okay, Toby.” I pushed my glasses up my nose. But they weren’t there. I’d forgotten them. “You pick.”

He walked to the till. “I’ll handle the front. You do the icing. I never do it as well as you anyway.”

I would have accused him of trying to hide me—puffy eyes and all—from customers, but maybe it was a good thing. My mind kept drifting back to that horrible moment on the sidewalk when everything turned into a disaster.

What a mess. Ezra and I were like a cake that just wouldn’t rise. All the ingredients were there, but it didn’t work out. Maybe because there was an extra spice weighing the whole thing down. Lies. My eyes began to sting again, so I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the bowl of white frosting. I just needed to focus for a while, get lost in the details of butter and sugar.

I iced the first round cake, smoothing the white icing until the edges were perfect. It calmed me. But my mind roamed. Every moment I’d spent with Ezra had been a lie. From the second he walked into the shop, he’d been out to get me. And I’d fallen for it. Was I so love starved that I’d just jump into bed with anyone? I pushed too hard along the top of the cake and cut off too much icing.

“Dammit.” I scooped more buttercream on top and smoothed it again. “I didn’t just jump into bed with anyone,” I muttered to myself. I’d had dates. Hell, I’d turned down Perry more times than I could count. I wasn’t desperate. I was … I shook my head. Smitten was the only word that came to mind.

The front bell began to ring, the flow of customers picking up as the morning began. I wondered how many of them had been in line across the street yesterday. My eyes clenched shut, and I pushed the dark feelings away. Of course they got in line for a free cake. I couldn’t blame them … too much. It was a stroke of brilliance on Ezra’s part. No one could resist “free” or “new.” Even if those cakes were nowhere near as special as mine. I kicked my chin up. Hannah heard through the grapevine that they were awful, the centers frozen. Not fresh. Not loved. Not like my creations at all.

I picked up the bag of green icing to work on the holly leaf detail. I squeezed out half the leaf, then the other side. Smitten. Yes, I’d been smitten when he walked in. He was handsome, had a killer smirk, and woke up parts of me that I assumed had gone dormant. And I loved talking to him. And he made me feel beautiful, even if I wasn’t so sure when I looked in the mirror. I’d let him in. Something about his quiet understanding spoke to the heart of me, the part that wanted nothing more than acceptance from another person. He gave me that. But it was a lie. I squeezed too much green, ruining the center holly leaf.

“Ugh!” I tossed down the icing bag.

I’d been over this all night, my mind turning into a swamp of memories, the good ones sinking beneath the muck of betrayal. He just wanted to humiliate me. Used me.

I leaned against the back counter and tried to calm myself so I could finish my work.

“Just breathe.” I closed my eyes.

But if he wanted me ruined, why had he shut down his bakery so quickly?

“Don’t think about that.” Now I was talking to myself. Perfect.

He hadn’t just shut it down, he’d kicked everyone out. And he was tearing it down if the sounds from inside were any indication. Was that remorse or another part of his plan? I wanted it to be remorse, but that was foolish. He was a good liar, a devious schemer. This was likely phase two, something even worse on its way.

“Addie?”

I jumped. Toby had poked his head into the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Mick is here.”

I grabbed the green icing again. “What does he want?”

“Delivery.”

“Oh.” I waved a hand. “If they’re from Ezra, tell him no thank you.”

“They are definitely from Ezra.” Toby’s eyes were wide. “You’re going to want to come see this.”

“What?” I over-squeezed the icing again.

“Come see.” He ducked back out.

I set the icing down. It was for the best, given I couldn’t ice my way out of a paper bag at this point.

I pushed through the door to the front and stopped dead.

Mick was outside, and his part-time helper Joey was unloading poinsettia after poinsettia from the back of the van.

“What is going on?”

“The van is filled, and there’s a trailer attached to it, also filled with poinsettias.”

“Why?” I scooted past the counter and smiled as best I could at the handful of customers. The cold wind hit me as I opened the door, the promise of snow in the air. “Mick, what are you doing?”

The trailer Toby had mentioned was filled with poinsettias, the red flowers brilliant in the morning sun. There had to be over a hundred baskets.

“Doing my job.”

“What’s your job?” I turned as Joey unfurled a huge banner and started tacking it to the front of the neighboring business, Grayson’s Menswear. “Free Poinsettia and $100 Grayson Gift Certificate with Purchase of a Bishop Christmas Cake” it said in jaunty holiday lettering.

“I got an order for every poinsettia I could get my hands on.” He pointed to the trailer. That’s the entire stock from the wholesale market over in Tarrytown. And I have another van coming with stock from Leedsville.

“Ezra Grayson?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave me an apologetic look. “I heard about what happened.” Hitching a thumb at the workmen across the street, he continued, “But it looks like he’s aware of the error of his ways.”

“You can’t do this.” I crossed my arms over my chest as cars began to slow and stop, their drivers reading the sign.

“Addie, if the man wants to give away a stack of free credit to his stores at Christmastime, I see nothing wrong with that. It’d be a big help around here.” He hefted two poinsettias from the trailer and placed them in front of the menswear store. “Besides, don’t you want to sell more Christmas cakes?”

Well, yes, of course I did. But not like this.

Mick paused. “He also asked that I deliver some of the poinsettias to your shop, but he said not to force the issue if you don’t want th—”

“I don’t.” I scowled at the sign and the cars that began to stop and fill the parking spots along Main Street. Maybe people wouldn’t notice the sign. After all, it was only in this one part of town. Besides, I was doing a brisk business on Christmas cakes already. “You can’t do this here. This is my shop.”

“The sidewalk isn’t yours, and neither is the menswear place,” he said diplomatically as he unloaded more flowers. “I don’t see any harm in it. Joey, you get the sign set up on the square?”

“Done. It’s huge. Can’t miss it.” Joey hefted more plants.

“Another sign?” I fumed.

Mick just shrugged.

A black Mercedes pulled up behind the van and the trailer. The man from the gazebo—Ezra’s assistant—stepped out, then walked to the trunk and retrieved a banker’s box. What was his name?

“Charles?” I called.

He approached and handed the banker’s box to Joey. “Good morning. The vouchers are inside, organized alphabetically, and individually marked. Please keep a tally for me as you hand them out, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.” Joey took the box to the van.

“Why is he doing this?” I put my hands on my hips and stared up at the older man.

His eyes softened as he returned my gaze. “He’s made mistakes.”

“Obviously.” I shook my head a little too hard.

“And he wants to make amends.”

“You knew all along, didn’t you? What he was up to, tricking me, fooling me into thinking he cared about me.” More humiliation piled on top of the boatload I struggled under.

He clasped his hands—no wrestling amongst his fingers like me—and shook his head. “He never intended to trick you.”

“Please.” I put all my exasperation into that one word.

“Mr. Grayson is a complicated man.” He sighed, as if he’d been at war with the ‘complications’ for years. “You see, he believed you were sending the cakes as an insult.”

My brow wrinkled. “Why would a cake be an insult?”

“Complicated.” Another sigh. “But suffice it to say, he came to your shop with bad intentions, but not the way you think. He wanted to meet you head on, to see what he was up against. But when he did meet you, he realized how very wrong he was. And then something happened, something unexpected and wonderful.”

I held my breath, unwillingly drawn in to his tale. “What was that?”

He tapped the side of his nose, his eyes twinkling. “I think you know. Falling in love doesn’t mean that you can see clearly, you know. Especially given that he’s never done it before. So he made mistakes—the Eli Blackston lie being the mistake in chief. Ezra didn’t feel he could tell you the truth, not after all the nasty things he’d done to try and get your bakery.”

Why were my eyes burning again? “He lied the whole time.”

“I know, and nothing I can say will erase that. But please believe me when I say he regrets every moment of his deception.”

The bell to my store tinkled behind me. Customers.

“What about that?” I pointed across the street. “Was Grayson’s Bakery his idea?”

His cheeks colored slightly, and not just from the cold. “Yes, it was his idea.”

My jaw clenched. What an awful thing to do, to think up, to put in motion—all just to ruin me.

Charles shook his head. “I know you may find this hard to believe, but after he met you, Ezra intended to kill the project before it opened. However, Mr. Novak got ahead of himself, which landed all of us in this situation.”

“What’s he doing with the bakery now?”

“You’d have to ask him.” He gave me a small smile. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back. The cold doesn’t do any favors to these old joints.” He hesitated. “If I may overstep just a bit, I’d like to add that I’ve worked for Ezra for years. Seen him day in and day out. Not once in all that time did I see him change. He’s a creature of habit, you might even say of compulsion.” He gave me an apologetic smile. “Complicated, you see? Ezra tends to stick to a track that takes him in a loop each day. Routine, most of it involving minding his money, if I’m being honest. But when he met you, he jumped the track. Free. For once in his life, he actually tasted happiness. Not a small thing for a man like him. And it was because of you.” He cleared his throat, almost as if tears threatened to choke him up. “That was all. I hope you have a pleasant day.”

I stood dumbfounded as he returned to his car. He’d given me answers, but it only led to more questions. Chief among them—why did Ezra think my cakes were an insult in the first place? Seriously, who thinks that?

Mick kept placing poinsettias on the sidewalk as I tried to order my thoughts, to sort through my feelings.

Mr. Banks came out of my shop, a Christmas cake in his hands. He stopped and read the ‘free poinsettia’ sign.

“You don’t need an incentive to buy my cake, right Mr. Banks?” I smiled brightly at him.

“Um.” He glanced from me to the sign a few times. “Well, I could use a credit at the Mercantile. Get Nancy the new shoes she’s been needing for Christmas. I was able to save most of the money for them but wouldn’t have it all before Tuesday. They’re special order, you know, on account of her limp. She just grows out of them so fast, can’t keep her in new pairs fast enough.”

Nancy, his daughter with special needs. She’d broken her leg when she was little, and it had never healed right. Because of it, she could barely walk unless she had specially-made shoes. I couldn’t imagine how much those cost.

Shame coursed through me. Who was I to stop Grayson from spreading Christmas kindness? He’d done me wrong, but maybe he could do the people of Brooktown right for once. I wouldn’t stand in the way of that, no matter how hurt I was.

“Give Nancy my love.” I patted his arm. “And Joey, he needs the credit at Grayson Mercantile. Can you arrange that?”

The bell to my store tinkled again.

“Sure thing.” Joey flipped the top off the banker’s box inside the van and pulled out an envelope with Mercantile written across it in a neat hand. “Here you go. And Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you.” Mr. Banks took the envelope.

“Can I carry the poinsettia to your car?” Joey offered.

The doorbell tinkled again. Then again.

I backed away as Joey and Mick continued their work. Further down the block, a work truck pulled up, the back full of red bows, coils upon coils of Christmas lights, and ladders. Another work truck came around the corner, its back likewise full. They parked on either side of the street, and several men piled out, their heavy coats and gloves ready for the weather.

“Every Grayson joint?” one of them asked and whistled as he looked at all the Grayson buildings down the street.

What must have been the foreman pointed at the nearest building. “Every single one. He wants them festive and he wants it done fast. Let’s get to work, boys. The pay from this will make our kids happy come Christmas morning.”

“Morning, Addie.” Dana Vance walked past and into the bakery. More people were coming, their steps clearly beelining toward my shop.

“Addie, I’m going to need help in here,” Toby called out the door.

I walked in. The front was already packed, people smiling and talking about how delicious my cakes were and who they’d spend the Grayson credit on. Invariably, they wanted to purchase gifts for someone else. To give. Because that was the Christmas spirit, the spirit I tried to honor every year with my cakes.

Retying my apron, I swallowed my pride and took my place behind the counter. With genuine holiday cheer, I greeted the customers and began to take orders.

Chapter 21

Adeline

Eight hours later, and I was chugging Monster drinks and running every mixer in my kitchen.

“Vanilla!” I called and kicked up the beater speed.

Hannah dumped two teaspoons of vanilla into the mix. “I’m really getting the hang of this baking thing.” She grinned and hopped up on the back counter. Toby had given her “vanilla duty” to make her feel useful while also keeping her away from anything important.

“Coming out.” Toby opened the oven and took out eight round cakes, then put in eight new ones. “We only have to do that about fifty more times tonight, and we’ll be aces.” He closed the oven and backed away.

“Want to order in dinner?” I asked and began dumping the flour into the mix.

“Handled.” Toby turned away and began pulling down the last of our flour.

“Wow, you’re on it tonight, my friend.”

“Not me,” he said almost too softly for me to hear over the sound of the mixer.

“What?” I added a teaspoon of baking powder.

A movement caught my eye, and I turned to find Hannah scowling at Toby and dragging her thumb across her throat. She dropped her hand when she saw me looking.

I flipped the mixer off. “What is going on?”

“Nothing.” Hannah held up the vanilla bottle. “More?”

“No.” I wiped my hands on my dish towel. “One of you needs to start talking or—”

A knock at the back door cut off my inquisition.

Toby hurried to it and threw it open. The blast of chill air was welcome in the sweltering kitchen.

Sid bustled in, bags of food under each arm.

“Hey.” My mouth watered as I got a whiff of the epic macaroni and cheese.

“Addie.” Sid tilted his chin at me as Toby helped him with the food.

“That smells amazing!” I hurried over and cleared a spot on the center table.

“Fresh from the kitchen.” He smiled. “Ran it over here as fast as I could.”

I turned and dug through the cabinet for my wallet. “What do I owe you?”

“Already paid for.” Sid pulled some plasticware from his coat pockets.

I froze. Because I knew. “Ezra Grayson paid for it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sid tipped his hat. “Y’all enjoy. I’m getting home to Geneva before the storm hits. You all should get on home, too. Make Toby take you.”

“Thanks, Sid.” I pressed my lips together.

Once the back door closed, I whirled. “You both knew?”

Hannah already had half a roll in her mouth. She shrugged.

Toby opened the container with the macaroni and cheese. Like a cartoon, a steamy, cheesy hand rose from the delicious concoction and led me over to it by the nose.

“Sid called to make sure it was okay before he delivered. He, uh, heard about the scene yesterday.” Toby took a big bite of some greens, then breathed out his mouth, steam escaping. Good, I hope it burned his tongue (but not the roof of his mouth, because that would just be cruel).

The whole town knew about what happened, I had no doubt. Gossip spread like a cookie dough with too much butter.

“You’ll eat his food after what he did?” I wanted to pick up a fork and dig in, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“It’s Sid’s food,” Hannah said through a mouthful of fried okra.

“Toby?”

He swallowed the greens and took another forkful. “I’m not saying I forgive him or that you should, but he did close the bakery, and he did give away a ton of cash and poinsettias today, and he did provide a delicious dinner.” He shrugged. “I don’t think he’s in the running for man of the year, but at least he’s trying to make up for the crap he pulled.”

Hannah scooped out some of the macaroni and cheese. “And come on, it’s Sid’s food! Letting this go to waste would be a sacrilege.”

My hand hesitated over the fork. Eating this food wasn’t forgiving him, I reminded myself. Eating this food was necessary for us to get the baking done. That was all. If I didn’t eat—and real food, not sugar—I wouldn’t get it done.

I took a bite of the macaroni and cheese. Heaven on my tongue. That little kick of cayenne. So, so good. I swallowed and scooped up some more. Delicious. Maybe I was betraying myself, but for Sid’s food? It was worth it.

Chapter 22

Ezra

The snow fell quickly, blanketing Main Street with unending white. My headlights caught the fat, heavy flakes as they hurtled to the pavement.

No one else was out, not this late at night in a Nor’easter. The stoplight blinked red both ways, the wind swaying the line that was coated with a load of ice.

My SUV idled, the interior warm as I waited. Hannah had already left, a friend picking her up a couple of hours ago. I’d caught a glimpse of Adeline then, her cheeks pink and her hair in a messy bun. Beautiful. Then she’d retreated back into the bakery. How many orders did she have to fill? Mick had reported that 77 people had stopped by for the vouchers and poinsettias. A good haul for the first day. They’d be back out there in the morning if they could get through the snow.

The crews had finished putting up the lights at every one of my businesses on the street. They glowed against the falling dark, though I could barely see them through the swirling snow. Even so, they would be quite a sight once the storm passed. Cheery. Just like Adeline liked. And if she didn’t? I’d change it to make her happy. I found I’d do anything to see her smile, and I’d keep doing it for as long as I could.

Movement at the front of her store caught my eye. She and Toby—both of them bundled up—walked out the front door and locked it behind them. Even if they had a car, the roads had a sheet of ice beneath the snow. They wouldn’t be able to drive, and there was no way I’d let Adeline walk home in this storm.

I honked as they stepped onto the sidewalk. Getting out, I hurried around to the passenger side of my SUV.

“What are you doing here?” Adeline pulled her hat down lower over her ears.

“Are those antlers and a Rudolph nose on your grill?” Toby cocked his head to the side.

“It’s the holidays.” I focused on Adeline, her not-thick-enough coat and boots that didn’t seem warm enough. Definitely not in this weather.

I wanted to give her my coat and add my hat on top of hers to keep her toasty. I didn’t. Charles had advised me to give her space and time. I was doing the best I could, even though I needed her more than I’d needed anything in my life. “I thought you might be working late.” I opened the passenger door. “It’s warm and safer than walking.”

“I’d rather walk.” She stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. The chill in her voice struck to the bone, but still I held the door open for her, hoping she would change her mind.

Toby shivered and hunched his shoulders. “Yeah, we’re going to walk.” He glanced at my snow chains, then stared at the warm interior of my SUV with obvious longing. “Right, walking. Definitely walking.”

“I’m happy to take both of you home. You must be tired after all that baking.” I tilted my head toward the SUV. “Heated seats.”

Toby elbowed Adeline. “He’s the enemy, but it’s freezing. And you know, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?”

She turned to him, confusion wrinkling her perfect button nose. “That’s not how that goes and doesn’t even apply.”

“It’s cold. Brain freeze.” He shivered for emphasis.

“Charles took the liberty of pouring you some spiced hot chocolate in to-go cups. One for each of you.” I was pushing it, but I had to. I would always fight for her. For us.

“We can walk.” She shook her head, her blue eyes flashing.

“Come on, Addie. I’m cold and worn slap out. And we have to be back at four.” He gestured toward me with his shoulder. “Did you hear him? Heated seats. I don’t even care if he intends to kidnap us and do some ‘Silence of the Lambs’ business. He’s got hot chocolate! And it’s a blizzard. Better to go with him than turn into the Donner party.”

“We can’t go Donner party in town!” She stomped her boot.

“Please.” Toby leaned against her. “So tired, boss.”

She sighed. “Fine. But only for your sake.”

“I will accept your magnanimity,” he said and jumped into the backseat. “Now where’s the hot chocolate?”

“Thank you.” I offered my hand to help her up.

“I did it for Toby.”

“Thank you all the same.”

She eyed the high step, then decided to accept my help.

Once she was safely in, I closed the door and walked around. Just seeing her lifted my spirits. I could do this. But the only way was to come clean—completely clean. I’d have to tell her everything. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done.

I wouldn’t keep anything from her ever again.

Chapter 23

Adeline

I sank into the warm leather and fastened my seatbelt.

“This chocolate is on point!” Toby slurped at his to-go cup.

“I’ll tell Charles you enjoyed it.” Ezra put the car in drive and eased forward, the snow coming heavy enough to white out the road ahead.

He was clean shaven, his dark hair smooth and dotted with melted snow. I wanted to touch him, to run my palm along the line of his jaw and tell him how much I missed him. Because I did. Even in the short time we’d been apart, he consumed my thoughts. It was a torment. After all, he was the one who hurt me, but he was also the one I wanted to run to. The one I wanted to hold me and tell me everything would be all right.

He glanced in the rearview. “Where’s your place, Toby?”

“Third Avenue and Pine.”

“Got it.”

I eyed the hot chocolate and remembered how good it had been that night in the gazebo. It seemed like years ago. But it had only been a few days. How did time get so confusing? I let my head fall back against the leather, the plush interior relaxing my tired body. Without my glasses, I couldn’t see much beside the headlights bouncing off the white snow.

Ezra used his turn signal, despite no one else being around. “I used to know a boy who lived over on Briar Street. That’s close to Pine, right?”

“Yeah,” Toby said. “My mom grew up over there in one of those little cottages. But they kind of got rundown before I was even born. Seedy, Mom would say.”

“Right.” Ezra cleared his throat. “So this boy, he grew up over there. And it was definitely seedy when he lived in one of those little houses. He would come to school in hand-me-down clothes that should have been thrown out instead of patched and re-patched. Sometimes he’d even wear the same clothes a few days in a row. He’d get teased at school for it, bullied and all that. Called dirty and poor. He was definitely poor, but not dirty. He had a hang-up about dirt. Kind of weird, but he was obsessive about washing his hands and sticking to his routines. If something got out of whack, he’d have a hard time paying attention in class.”

Charles’s words echoed in my mind. ‘Ezra tends to stick to a track that takes him in a loop each day. Routine…’

“You picked on him?” Toby said between gulps. “Is that where this story is going? And then you had a change of heart and talked your parents into adopting him and you two became blood brothers until one day you discovered he’d tried to replace you and even dyed his hair the same color as yours and got a forged passport with your information, sort of like an evil twin thing?”

I turned to glare at Toby. “Oddly specific much? What is wrong with you?”

He shrugged. “I drank way more of those Monster drinks than you.”

“No.” Ezra shook his head. “Nothing as exciting as all that.”

I turned back around and watched Ezra’s profile. He was tense as he watched the road carefully, the SUV creeping along.

“Anyway, this kid’s parents were great. Really nice. The teachers loved them, even if their son was a little odd. They both worked at the old sock factory, and they lived modestly and saved their money because they wanted to start a business of their own.” He swallowed hard. “A bakery.”

My gloved fingers tangled in my lap, but I couldn’t stop listening, couldn’t interrupt the story. His story.

“So they saved up for years and almost had enough to get it started. They went to meet with an old friend of theirs who happened to be the mayor at the time. He advised them to start the bakery, and even offered to help them with some seed money. So, they bought a building on Main Street and started working on getting the whole thing set up. The mayor promised to handle a lot of the details, since he was experienced in government and business. They trusted him. Before the bakery was done, but after they had invested all their money in the building and equipment, a fire broke out one cold night.”

A chill went through me. I remembered this. I was little at the time, but old enough to get snippets of conversation from my father’s office while I played in the living room. A fire had burned up something Dad had been working on, and he was upset about it. Vague flashes of memory played in my mind—a fireman in the house, his face darkened with gray streaks. I wanted to ask if I could ride in the firetruck, but I was disappointed when I didn’t see one in the driveway.

“It was a total loss. The building, the equipment, everything. The mayor lost some money, but the couple lost their savings. The mayor said there was nothing to be done and that business was business. So, the couple took him at his word and returned to their jobs at the sock factory, working every day to try and save enough to send their son to college. But their dream had died in the fire, and they weren’t the same after it.”

“I thought this might turn out to be an uplifting story, but I was so, so wrong. I’m going to need some more hot chocolate or something,” Toby grumbled.

I wanted to reach for Ezra, to take his hand. But he focused on the road and gripped the wheel tightly.

“Eventually, their son went to college and excelled. Despite his hang-ups, he was smart, and his parents had taught him the importance of working hard. So he graduated and got into business and the stock market. He’d made his first million by the time he was 23.”

“So this is a happy story.” Toby shot his hand between the seats and gave a thumbs up.

“No longer wearing the same clothes, no longer struggling to get by. The boy returned to Brooktown. He was able to build a large house, a far cry from their rundown cottage over on Briar. And he set out to own the town where so many had looked down on him and his parents. But, his mother was diagnosed with cancer shortly after the house was finished. She passed, and her husband followed her soon after.”

“And we’re back to sad again.” Toby gave the thumbs down.

“Before my father died, though, he told me the whole story about the fire and the mayor.”

My hands began to sweat, and I shed my gloves.

“Mayor Bishop handled the details on the bakery, just as my parents trusted him to do. He was good at it. He even thought to get insurance on the building—something my parents didn’t realize, because Bishop put himself as the only beneficiary. After the building burned, Bishop collected but didn’t tell my parents or give them their share of the money. He kept it for himself and eventually, when his daughter returned to town and wanted to start a bakery herself, he gifted her the seed money to get it running. I have all the documents to prove it, a paper trail that tells the story.”

My face went cold, and I stared at Ezra’s profile.

“Wait.” Toby leaned up, his eyes wide. “You changed the story all to ‘I’ and ‘me’ and ‘my’ and you’re talking about Adeline and her dad. You’re the boy in the story, aren’t you!”

Ezra nodded.

“That’s why you thought my cakes were an insult.” I pressed my hands to my face. “All this time, you thought I stole your parents’ dream.”

“Yes.” His voice had roughened, emotion clouding the notes. “I thought you were just like your dad. He had everyone in this town believing what a saint he was, but he did some dirt. And he did it to my family.” He glanced at me. “That’s why I tried every trick I knew to get the bakery from you, to put an end to the insult against my family. I don’t want to hurt you, and maybe your dad was a good man except for that one thing—by all accounts he was. But his one bad deed shaped my whole life, and not in a good way.”

“Intense,” Toby said in a hushed voice.

“You thought I was rubbing it in your face.” I clenched my eyes shut, not wanting the tears to escape. “And my dad.” I shook my head. “I had no idea. None. He never told me about the deal with your parents. I never knew. I swear.” I idolized my dad, loved him with my whole heart, but there were things about him I didn’t know. He was mayor for years and years. There were supposedly backroom deals that people would whisper about, but none of it involved me, and nothing could tarnish my view of Dad. At least, not until now.

“I believe you.” He let out a shaking breath. “I knew the moment I walked into that bakery and saw you. You aren’t your father. And I regret the things I did to try and squeeze you out. But more than that, I regret lying to you. Because if I’d just been straight with you at the start, maybe we could have cleared all this up. Maybe you would have forgiven me.” He wiped at his cheek. “No. I know you would have. Because that’s who you are. But I chose to lie. And now I’ve lost you.”

This time I did reach over and take his hand. “You haven’t lost me.”

He stopped the car and we skidded a little bit on the icy road. Pulling my hand to his lips, he kissed the back of my fingers. “I never would have opened that store across the street. I swear to you. Novak—”

“I know. Charles told me.” It felt so good just to feel his touch again. “I’m going to be honest here, I loved my dad so much. He was my rock. And I can’t stop loving him, not even now that I know what he did. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t expect you to stop loving your dad.” He shook his head. “I just needed you to know the why of it.”

I’d have to unpack my feelings about what Dad had done when I had some time to think. And even though the past between the Bishops and the Graysons was murky, that didn’t mean there couldn’t be a brighter future. “What he did was wrong. And I wish I could change it, but I can’t. But maybe we can, I don’t know, start fresh. You and me.”

His eyes widened, and maybe he was just as surprised as I was. “You’d do that? I don’t think I deserve that kind of forgiveness. All those things people said about me—they were true. I was horrible, and especially horrible to you for all these years.”

The way he spoke about himself made my heart ache. “Of course you deserve forgiveness, Ezra. You aren’t the Ezra Grayson this town whispers about. You’re the Ezra Grayson that you want to be. You can choose who you are. And I’ve seen the real you. You’re a wonderful man, one that I want to know everything about.”

His eyes watered, glittering in the low light. “You can forgive me?”

“Yes.” I stroked his cheek. “I forgive you. I understand why you did what you did. It was wrong, but I understand.”

“Thank you.” He kissed my palm. “Thank you so much, Adeline.”

He melted me, dissolving every bit of my hurt with his sincerity.

A small smile tickled at my lips. “How about we start over? After all, this really is the first time I’m officially meeting Ezra Grayson, right?” I held my hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m Adeline Bishop, the town baker.”

He took my hand, his wide palm warm and enveloping. “Ezra Grayson, town miser and misanthrope.”

I smiled. “Former miser and misanthrope.”

“Former.” He nodded and moved even closer. “I know we just met, but would it be all right if I kissed you?”

“That’s forward of you, but I suppose it would be all right under the circumstances.” I smiled as he pressed his lips to mine.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as he kissed me with a fervor that I felt down to my toes. Every bit of regret, longing, and love came through with his reverent touches and fiery kiss. His fingers tangled in my hair, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue twining with mine. The past fell away until only the two of us remained.

“Forgiveness sure is beautiful.”

I pulled back, only just remembering that Toby was still in the car.

He grinned at me. “I knew things would turn out all right.”

I laughed as Ezra kissed the tip of my nose. “You knew no such thing.”

“I did. The shop is saved and you two are a unit. Things are looking up. Group hug?” He leaned forward, an expectant look on his face.

“You know that story about the boy who was weird about touching people because of germs?” Ezra asked.

“Yeah, but now we’re buds. No dirt between buds.” Toby held out his arms.

I couldn’t stow my grin. “You’ll have to get used to it. We’re an affectionate bunch.”

“If I must.” Ezra winced but accepted Toby’s hug.

“That’s the spirit.” Toby sat back, a big smile on his face. “We’re like the B-team. Bakery Team. . . But we’re still an A-team, but with a B. Because bakery.”

Ezra’s brows drew together. “About the bakery—I’ll do whatever I have to do so that your shop can thrive.”

“I noticed. The poinsettias and the payoffs just for people to buy my cakes.”

“They’d buy them anyway.” He tugged my knit hat back into place. “They’re delicious.”

“You’re just saying that. You’ve never tasted one.”

“I want to change that.” His gaze lingered on my lips. “If you’ll let me. I’d like a taste.”

I bit my bottom lip. “What are we talking about here?”

“Your cake.” He leaned in and kissed me again, his lips teasing against mine. “Your Christmas cake.”

Christmas Day

“You really aren’t going to tell me what you’re building?” I traced my finger between his pecs and down his abs.

“No. It’s a surprise.” He kissed my forehead.

We lay in his huge bed as the sun began to peak through the windows. It was Christmas morning, and I was spending it with my favorite person in the whole world.

“I like surprises, but I’d also really like to know what sort of shop is opening across the street from mine.” I pouted.

He sighed and pulled me on top of him. “I love it when your mouth does that.”

“Does what?”

He leaned in and nibbled at my bottom lip. “It’s almost a frown, but it’s more of a cute little smirk. When you don’t get your way—which isn’t often—you do it.”

“Do not.” I shifted against him and made an mmm noise when I felt his hard length against my thigh.

“You do. And when you’re nervous, you tuck ghost hair behind your ear. Or sometimes you adjust your glasses—but you do that a lot in any case.”

“Lies.” I knew they weren’t. Hannah and Toby had been telling me as much for years.

His hand skated down my back and gripped my ass. “Merry Christmas to me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be counting all your money and lording it over the populace?” I bit down lightly on his chest.

He laughed. “You’re sassy this morning. I like it.”

I smiled against his skin and kissed up to his jaw. “Maybe I’m always sassy and just keep it under wraps.”

He rolled over, pinning me beneath him. “Maybe. But I can assure you I’m going to find out. I want to know everything about you, every little detail, all the layers that make you so impossibly wonderful.”

“You already speak cake.”

“I do?” He nestled between my thighs.

“Layers. You talked about layers, like a cake.” I pressed a kiss to his lips. “But I’ll tell you a little secret.”

“Please.” He got a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, fastening his lips to my throat.

“A cake is only as good as its icing.” I grabbed his shoulders as he licked down to my breast.

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.” My thighs clenched when he sucked one nipple into his mouth, his tongue lashing it as he kept his other hand in my hair.

“Do you have any idea how many filthy innuendos I can make about icing?” He thrust his hips against me, his hard length rubbing me just right. “Or how badly I want to ice your cake right now?”

I giggled as he nipped at my other breast, his hot mouth sending jolts of pleasure through me. “You already iced it twice last night.”

“I don’t believe there’s such a thing as too much icing.” He thrust inside me with a smooth push.

I moaned and spread my legs wider.

“See? I think you agree.” He pulled back and surged forward again, filling me until my toes curled.

I would have agreed to anything as long as he kept moving inside me. He pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue working at the same speed as the rest of him. I arched up, getting every bit of sensation as he started a slow, luxurious rhythm.

“I want to see you.” He whispered against my lips, then pulled me on top of him as he rolled to his back.

I sat up and braced myself on the wooden headboard.

“Perfect.” He gripped my hips as I began moving on him. His gaze strayed down my body, taking in each curve. He made me feel beautiful, like I was the most decadent dessert.

Leaning up, he captured one nipple in his mouth as I ground against him, letting my body take control. He kept his hold on my hips, guiding me up and down. He groaned as I added a little extra roll to my hips.

I chased my release, letting myself go and doing everything that felt right. He rose up to meet me.

“Ezra,” I breathed.

His grip tightened on my hips, his abs thrown into sharp relief as he sat up and pulled me to him. He kissed me with the same rough need that pulsed through my veins. I rode him, pushing myself closer to the edge. When he reached between us and used his thumb on my sensitive nub of nerves, my moves grew erratic, my mind short-circuiting.

I cried out as I came, his mouth absorbing the sound. Everything inside me burst like a sparkle of lights, each bit of bliss electrifying me. He thrust up hard, his deep groan vibrating through me as he released. I dove even deeper, waves of delicious heat coiling and uncoiling deep inside until I relaxed.

He pulled me back down, keeping me on top of him as he smoothed the sweaty hair from my forehead.

“I think you’ve killed me,” I mumbled against him.

“Self-inflicted.” He laughed and palmed my ass.

I made a pfft sound and snuggled into the crook of his neck. We lay there, our heartbeats slowing as we melted into each other.

I’d dozed off when a series of tones woke me. “What was that?”

He kissed the crown of my head. “Doorbell. At least I think it’s the doorbell. No one ever comes to visit.”

I lifted my head. “Never?”

“Miser and recluse, remember?”

“Not anymore.” I dropped a kiss on his mouth and rolled off him.

“Not getting away from me again.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me back, wrapping me in his arms. Nibbling at my ear, he said, “Besides, Charles will get it.”

I sighed, contentment taking up residence in my soul. “A butler and a sex fiend and a giant house with a fully stocked pantry—I checked. A girl could get used to this.”

“I was going to ask you to move in, but it seems you’ve already got designs.”

My cheeks heated. “No. I mean, I was just talking. I wasn’t trying to get you to ask m—”

“I want you here. Always.” His green eyes sparkled, so warm in the morning light. “We don’t have to rush it. I’ll wait as long as you need. But believe me when I say I want you in this bed every day and night from here on out.” He gently pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, then placed a long, sweet kiss on my lips.

A knock at the door didn’t stop him, he just wrapped his arms around my back and kept kissing me until I giggled and turned my head. “Who is it?” I called.

“Your guests are here, Addie.” Charles wisely didn’t open the door.

“Guests?” Ezra’s chagrin was likely the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

“Come on.” I rolled away fast to avoid his swiping bear paw.

“Ugh.” He frowned at me. “Sassy and quick.”

“We can’t stay in bed all day. It’s Christmas!” I dug around in the pile of clothes I’d amassed at his place. “And we have guests.”

The frown turned into a smile. “We. I love it when you say we.”

My heart seemed to tingle inside my chest, but then I realized that couldn’t be true, because my heart belonged to Ezra now. “Me too. Now get up, there’s surprises!”

* * *

“Can I, uh, get some more of that hot chocolate?” Toby peered optimistically at Charles.

“It’s on the stove as we speak.”

Toby did a big fist pump, the bells on his ugly Christmas sweater jingling. “Yes!”

I hurried into the front sitting room. Or was it the living room? This house had more rooms than the Biltmore.

“Hi!” Hannah rushed over and hugged me, then Toby joined.

“Merry Christmas.” I gave them some squeezes. “Did Santa bring you everything you wanted?”

“Mom gave me a Sephora gift card, a big one!” Hannah nodded.

“Clint gave me a big, wet, hot, long, drawn out—” Toby glanced at Charles and Ezra “—thing I can’t discuss in present company.”

“Way to read the room.” I kissed his cheek then stepped back to Ezra’s side.

“Welcome.” He ran a hand through his sex-hair, making it even more sex-hair.

“Merry Christmas and all, but did you bring it?” I blurted.

“Of course. I’m not an amateur.” Toby stepped aside and pointed to the box he’d set on the ornately-carved coffee table.

“What’s that?” Ezra raised a brow as I pulled him over to the chintzy sofa.

“Charles, can you bring—”

“Yes, ma’am.” He walked into the room—even though I didn’t even see him leave—with a tray of hot chocolate, small plates, and silverware.

No wonder Ezra had chosen Charles as his assistant. The man was a ghost ninja.

“Thanks.” I sank down onto the couch next to Ezra, and Hannah and Toby pulled up some stuffy armchairs.

“It’s the last one.” Toby tapped the box. “Until next year, anyway.”

“Let’s give it a good sendoff then.” I opened the box, the scent of vanilla and sugar wafting from the Christmas cake inside.

Ezra shook his head. “I will never forgive myself for throwing five of these away.”

“That’s okay, because I forgive you.” I kissed his cheek. “Besides, Toby burns at least that many every year and we have to throw them out, too.”

Toby looked stung, his eyes comically wide. “How dare you?”

“It’s true.” I snagged a butter knife from Charles’s tray.

“I know it’s true, but I thought that was a bakery secret, and what happens in the bakery stays in the bakery.”

“You’re always telling on me for stealing cupcakes.” Hannah elbowed him. “I don’t see the difference.”

“Also true.” I gave Toby a big smile.

He wrinkled his nose. “I’ll have a comeback ready when I’m in the shower about two weeks from now. And it’ll be a real zinger, let me tell you.”

“I look forward to it. Now, hand me a plate.” I cut the cake into wedges and served it up, though I may have given Ezra the piece with the most icing.

“Okay.” I tried to keep my breath even, though my stomach tried to twist in a knot as I handed Ezra a fork. What if he didn’t like it? “Are you ready?”

“It would be an honor.” He smiled, his stubble giving him a devil-may-care vibe. It was surprisingly hot.

“Addie?” Toby waved his hand in front of my face.

“I’m here.” I turned back to the table, but not before I saw Ezra’s smirk. “Merry Christmas, everyone. This has been the most unexpected holiday season of my life, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” I gestured with my fork. “Dig in.”

Hannah had already scooped a chunk into her mouth, and Toby slid his fork along the icing with surgical precision.

I swallowed hard and sent up a little prayer before looking at Ezra.

He put a forkful into his mouth, his sensual lips doing inappropriate things to my lady parts.

I held my breath.

His face was inscrutable as he chewed. My palms broke out into a sweat, and my ears went cold.

“You could slice the tension with a cake server,” Toby whispered.

“You’re a dork.” Hannah licked her fork.

“Well?” I bit my lip as Ezra swallowed.

He set his plate down.

Oh no. He didn’t like it.

“Adeline.” He gave me a long look.

“Yes.” I tried to steel myself.

With a sudden movement, he pulled me into his lap. I squealed.

“That is easily the most delicious cake I’ve ever had in my life.” He kissed me hard, sharing the sweetness with me as he held me tight. “Thank you.”

“You’re. Welcome,” I said between kisses.

“Hot.” Hannah nodded and cut herself a second slice. “Keep going.”

I laughed as Ezra kept me in his lap but reached for his plate. “That good, huh?”

He fed me a bite before taking one for himself. “That good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.” He glanced at Charles and gave him a nod.

Charles handed him a small gift box.

My heart thudded against my ribs. “What’s that?”

“Just a little something I picked up for you.”

“I helped pick it!” Hannah clapped.

I don’t know what made me happier—that Ezra had thought to get me something special or that he’d accepted my friends right along with me.

“Open it.” He placed it in my palm.

It was a ring. I could tell by the case. But it wasn’t like he was on a knee, so everything was still—

“What are you doing?” He slid me off his lap and sank to the floor. “Open it.”

Hannah reached over and clutched Toby’s arm.

All words left me, and I stared from the box to Ezra and back again. It was too soon, too much, too amazing, too exciting. My head couldn’t handle all the thoughts that rushed around.

“I know this may seem rash.” Ezra covered my hands with his, both of us holding the box. “But for me, it’s just right. I love you, Adeline. The first time I saw you, I knew there was something between us, something I had never felt before. And the more time I spent with you, the more it grew. Now, I can’t imagine a life lived without your light. You are everything to me. The only thing, really. You’ve given me so much, and now I have to ask for even more. Because I love you. Adeline Bishop, will you marry me?” He pulled his hands away and held my gaze.

My eyes had to be as big as saucers as I opened the box. A beautiful ring caught the light, the center stone a large emerald and rubies and diamonds on either side. Christmas colors. My favorite.

Tears welled as I reached for the ring and plucked it from the velvet case. “It’s beautiful.” My hand shook as I held it. I met Ezra’s gaze again, his eyes misty. “Yes.”

Toby and Hannah howled, and Ezra rose and picked me up, clutching me in his arms and squeezing the breath out of me.

“Thank you.” He peppered kisses on my cheeks. “Thank you. You’ve made me so happy.”

I put my hands on his cheeks. “I love you, Ezra. Now put me down before I pass out.”

He laughed and set me on my feet. “May I?” He held his palm out.

“Please.” I dropped the ring in his hand.

With shaking hands, he slid it onto my finger.

“Ugh, now I’m crying.” Toby dabbed at his eyes.

“It’s perfect for you.” Hannah grinned.

“I love it.” I held it up to the light.

“Merry Christmas, Adeline.” Ezra hugged me again, enveloping me in his unexpected—and unexpectedly perfect—love.

Christmas Cake Bonus Scene

Ezra

A crowd had gathered on the sidewalk, many of them likely enticed to the grand opening with the promise of Adeline’s shortbread cookies. We’d rang in the new year at my home with a party for the entire town. I went from never hosting visitors to meeting what seemed like an endless line of residents. Whenever it got too overwhelming, Adeline had been there to steady me, to keep me on track. She didn’t even know how much I needed her, how much she was already a part of my world, or truly, my whole world.

“Are you going to tell me now?” Adeline hurried up and handed a tray of shortbread to Toby.

“Why would I spoil it at the last second?” I pulled her scarf more tightly around her.

Charles ladled out hot chocolates, serving them up to cut through the winter chill.

“How about now?” She batted her lashes at me.

“We have two minutes until noon. You can wait two minutes, can’t you?” I made sure her hat covered her delicate ears.

“You are always fussing over me,” she huffed.

“You love it.”

Her frowny smirk turned into a smile. “I do.” She got onto her tiptoes and dropped a warm kiss on my lips. When she tried to drop away, I pulled her close and kissed her in earnest.

She melted for me, her light moan filtering through me as I tasted her sweetness. I would never get enough.

Toby cleared his throat loudly.

Adeline giggled and finally escaped my clutches … for now. “You really won’t tell me?”

I checked my watch. “It’s time.”

She clapped her gloved hands. “Tell me!”

“As you wish.” I pulled her with me until we made it to the front door. Turning, I addressed the crowd. “Welcome all. Thank you for coming to the grand opening of the newest Grayson business. I’m Ezra Grayson, and you all know and love my fiancée, Adeline Bishop.” I hugged her to my side. “When I first bought this building, I intended to open a bakery to compete with Adeline.”

Some of the people turned to whisper amongst themselves. Small towns always loved gossip.

“Then I came to my senses and realized that nothing I could make would ever compete with her delicious confections.” That elicited more than a few nods. “There is nothing she can’t bake. It’s her particular talent, and she takes it even further with her icing work and special recipes.”

Someone in the back called, “If you love her so much, why don’t you marry her!”

The crowd laughed.

“Thanks, Toby.” I pointed at my eyes and then at him.

He shrugged and went back to serving cookies.

“Anyway, suffice it to say, Adeline is an amazing baker. But—” I glanced down at her. “She is absolutely terrible at coffee.”

The crowd laughed even louder, and Adeline’s brows drew together. “My coffee is fine.” She tried to elbow me.

“Fine if you like drinking diesel,” an elderly lady cracked.

“Hey!” Adeline shook her head. “No one’s ever complained before.”

“That’s because we love you, sweetheart.” Mrs. Carnegie took a bite of shortbread. “And we don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Oh.” Adeline dropped her gaze.

“But this shortbread is the best I’ve ever had,” the older lady added quickly.

“Without further ado, I’d like to invite you to the newest hotspot in town.” I reached for the rope that tied to the canvas covering overhead. With a small yank, the canvas fell and revealed the sign.

“Adeline’s Coffee?” She put a hand to her mouth.

“Yep.” I opened the doors and escorted her inside.

“Ready?” I asked the manager—the same one from the previous bakery.

“We are fully stocked and ready to rock.” He eyed the line of people filing in behind us.

“Good.”

Adeline stared up at the menu. All the drinks were named after her, her friends, and her favorite things.

“You even have a Toby Toffee Coffee.” She pointed. “And an Adeline Americano.”

“It’s all yours.” I swept her into my arms.

“It’s mine?”

“Sure is.” Greg Novak stumped up, his mustache extra surly today. “I filed all the paperwork. It’s in her name, though I’ll have our accountant handle all the nitty gritty, if that’s all right.”

“Mr. Novak, you helped?” Adeline asked.

“Of course.” He hemmed and hawed for a moment. “I hope you can forgive me for all the, well, all the um—”

“Harassment?” Hannah offered as she stood in line for coffee. “Five years straight of it?”

“Right.” He shrugged, his ornery face unchanged. “That.”

She held out her hand. “I forgive you.”

His mustache twitched in what I’d learned was surprise, and he shook her hand. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. And thank you for helping set this up.”

“Well, I’m working for you now as well as Ezra, so if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” He gave her a deferential nod and headed toward the business office.

“A truce with Mr. Novak. It’s a Christmas miracle.” She stared after him. “Or maybe a New Year’s miracle?”

“Let’s just settle on miracle. Though I have to say it’s not all that astonishing. It is extremely easy to love you, you know?”

“You are trying to make me cry.” She bit her lips together, but her eyes watered anyway.

“No tears today. Only happiness. Want a coffee?” I tweaked her nose.

“I’d love to try one.”

The scent of coffee, dark and rich, filled the air, and the townspeople chatted excitedly amongst themselves.

She pointed. “We need a Charles’s Hot Chocolate on this menu for sure.”

“Well, the menu isn’t set in stone. Whatever you want, they can make. And you can change things around. Or add more items. I was kind of hoping you’d send over some bakery items to sell along with the coffee.”

Her eyes lit up at the possibilities. “I’d love to!”

“There’s only one thing you can’t do.” I tilted her chin up to me. “Mainly because it would tank the business.”

She gave me a wary look. “And what’s that?”

“Make the coffee.” I kissed her before she could protest, and enjoyed every single second of it.

The End

* * *

If you enjoyed these sweet treats, please be sure to read this year’s story, Accidental Santa!

Also by Celia Aaron

Dark Romance

The Bad Guy

My name is Sebastian Lindstrom, and I’m the villain of this story.

I’ve decided to lay myself bare. To tell the truth for once in my hollow life, no matter how dark it gets. And I can assure you, it will get so dark that you’ll find yourself feeling around the blackened corners of my mind, seeking a door handle that isn’t there.

Don’t mistake this for a confession. I neither seek forgiveness nor would I accept it. My sins are my own. They keep me company. Instead, this is the true tale of how I found her, how I stole her, and how I lost her.

She was a damsel, one who already had her white knight. But every fairy tale has a villain, someone waiting in the wings to rip it all down. A scoundrel who will set the world on fire if that means he gets what he wants. That’s me.

I’m the bad guy.

The Cloister Series

I joined the Cloister to find the truth. But I've discovered so much more, and the darkness here is seducing me, pulling me down until all I can think of is him. Adam Monroe, the Prophet's son, a dark prince to an empire that grows by the day. He is tasked with keeping me safe from the wolves of the outside world. But the longer I stay at the Cloister, the more I realize the wolves are already inside and under the Prophet's control. If Adam discovers the real reason I'm here, he'll bay for my blood with the rest of them. Until then, I will be Delilah, an obedient servant of the Prophet during the day and Adam's Maiden at night.

Counsellor, Magnate, & Sovereign

Darkness lurks in the heart of the Louisiana elite, and only one will be able to rule them as Sovereign. Sinclair Vinemont will compete for the title, and has acquired Stella Rousseau for that very purpose. Breaking her is part of the game. Loving her is the most dangerous play of all.

Blackwood

I dig. It’s what I do. I’ll literally use a shovel to answer a question. Some answers, though, have been buried too deep for too long. But I’ll find those, too. And I know where to dig—the Blackwood Estate on the edge of the Mississippi Delta. Garrett Blackwood is the only thing standing between me and the truth. A broken man—one with desires that dance in the darkest part of my soul—he’s either my savior or my enemy. I’ll dig until I find all his secrets. Then I’ll run so he never finds mine. The only problem? He likes it when I run.

Dark Protector

From the moment I saw her through the window of her flower shop, something other than darkness took root inside me. Charlie shone like a beacon in a world that had long since lost any light. But she was never meant for me, a man that killed without remorse and collected bounties drenched in blood.

I thought staying away would keep her safe, would shield her from me. I was wrong. Danger followed in my wake like death at a slaughter house. I protected her from the threats that circled like black buzzards, kept her safe with kill after kill.

But everything comes with a price, especially second chances for a man like me.

Killing for her was easy. It was living for her that turned out to be the hard part.

Nate

I rescued Sabrina from a mafia bloodbath when she was 13. As the new head of the Philly syndicate, I sent her to the best schools to keep her as far away from the life--and me--as possible. It worked perfectly. Until she turned 18. Until she came home. Until I realized that the timid girl was gone and in her place lived a smart mouth and a body that demanded my attention. I promised myself I'd resist her, for her own good.

I lied.

* * *

Contemporary Romance

You’ve Got Fail

She's driving me crazy. Or am I the one driving myself crazy? I can't tell anymore. Ever since Scarlet Rocket showed up in the flesh, she's turned my structured world upside down. My neatly ordered life, my hand-painted Aliens versus Vampires figurines, my expertly curated comics collection--none of these things provide any shelter from her sexy, sassy onslaught. It's a disaster of my own making. She didn't exist until I created her. Now, I can't get her out of my mind, and all I want to do is get her into my bed. Never mind that she's a thief, a liar, a con-woman. Every step she takes leaves chaos in her wake. And damn if I don't want more of it.

Kicked

Trent Carrington.

Trent Mr. Perfect-Has-Everyone-Fooled Carrington.

He’s the star quarterback, university scholar, and happens to be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He shines at any angle, and especially under the Saturday night stadium lights where I watch him from the sidelines. But I know the real him, the one who broke my heart and pretended I didn’t exist for the past two years.

I’m the third-string kicker, the only woman on the team and nothing better than a mascot. Until I’m not. Until I get my chance to earn a full scholarship and join the team as first-string. The only way I'll make the cut is to accept help from the one man I swore never to trust again. The problem is, with each stolen glance and lingering touch, I begin to realize that trusting Trent isn’t the problem. It’s that I can’t trust myself when I’m around him.

Tempting Eden

A modern re-telling of Jane Eyre that will leave you breathless...

Jack England

Eden Rochester is a force. A whirlwind of intensity and thinly-veiled passion. Over the past few years, I’ve worked hard to avoid my passions, to lock them up so they can’t harm me—or anyone else—again. But Eden Rochester ignites every emotion I have. Every glance from her sharp eyes and each teasing word from her indulgent lips adds more fuel to the fire. Resisting her? Impossible. From the moment I held her in my arms, I had to have her. But tempting her into opening up could cost me my job and much, much more.

Eden Rochester

When Jack England crosses my path and knocks me off my high horse, something begins to shift. Imperceptible at first, the change grows each time he looks into my eyes or brushes against my skin. He’s my assistant, but everything about him calls to me, tempts me. And once I give in, he shows me who he really is—dominant, passionate, and with a dark past. After long days of work and several hot nights, I realize the two of us are bound together. But my secrets won’t stay buried, and they cut like a knife.

Bad Bitch

Bad Bitch Series, Book 1

They call me the Bad Bitch. A lesser woman might get her panties in a twist over it, but me? I'm the one who does the twisting. Whether it's in the courtroom or in the bedroom, I've never let anyone - much less a man - get the upper hand.

Except for that jerk attorney Lincoln Granade. He's dark, mysterious, smoking hot and sexy as hell. He's nothing but a bad, bad boy playing the part of an up and coming premiere attorney. I'm not worried about losing in a head to head battle with this guy. But he gets me all hot and bothered in a way no man has ever done before. I don't like a person being under my skin this much. It makes me want to let go of all control, makes me want to give in. This dangerous man makes me want to submit to him completely, again, and again, and again...

Hardass

Bad Bitch Series, Book 2

I cave in to no one. My hardass exterior is what makes me one of the hottest defense lawyers around. It's why I'm the perfect guy to defend the notorious Bayou Butcher serial killer - and why I'll come out on top.

Except this new associate I've hired is unnaturally skilled at putting chinks in my well-constructed armor. Her brazen talk and fiery attitude make me want to take control of her and silence her - in ways that will keep both of us busy till dawn. She drives me absolutely 100% crazy, but I need her for this case. I need her in my bed. I need her to let loose the man within me who fights with rage and loves with scorching desire...

Total Dick

Bad Bitch Series, Book 3

I’m your classic skirt chaser. A womanizer. A total d*ck. My reputation is dirtier than a New Orleans street after a Mardi Gras parade. I take unwinnable cases and win them. Where people see defeat, I see a big fat paycheck. And when most men see rejection, it’s because the sexiest woman at the bar has already promised to go home with me.

But Scarlett Carmichael is the one person I can’t seem to conquer. This too-cool former debutante has it all—class, attitude, and a body that begs to be worshiped. I’ve never worked with a person like her before—hell, I’ve never played nice with anyone before in my life, and I’m not about to start with her. This woman wasn’t meant to be played nicely with. It’s going to be dirty. It’s going to be hot. She’s about to spend a lot of time with the biggest d*ck in town. And she’s going to love every minute of it…

* * *

Fantasy Romance

Incubus

An incubus who feeds off the sexual desires of others, Roth de Lis has never been denied the pleasure of a woman's body...until now. Lilah, once a warrior maiden in the service of a goddess, languishes on earth after being cast out from the slopes of Mount Olympus.

Lilah will do anything to return home, including betraying Roth. As she spins her web of lies, Roth begins a slow, wicked seduction that eventually threatens to consume them both. But when Lilah's deceit comes to light, will their torrid love affair be able to overcome a pact with the darkest of gods?

Blood Prince

He's searched for her across centuries. But he's not the only one . . .

Paris, heir to a vampire kingdom he has never claimed, is adrift on earth and in the Underworld. The bounty on his head keeps him on the run. When he realizes the woman whose death haunts his dreams could be alive, he will risk everything just to touch Helen again. But her past can't be erased, and neither can her old enemy--a demon who will destroy worlds just to possess her.

About the Author

Celia Aaron is a recovering attorney and USA Today bestselling author who loves romance and erotic fiction. Dark to light, angsty to funny, real to fantasy—if it’s hot and strikes her fancy, she writes it. Thanks for reading.

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