Christmas Is for Lovers: 6 Hot Holiday Romances Page 6

  “About ten years ago when you disappeared with my heart.” She squirmed to free herself. The friction of her hips caused a painful strain in my jeans, but I wouldn’t let her go. I couldn’t let her walk away without letting her feel how much she affected me. She gave a frustrated growl as she pushed at my chest. When I covered her mouth with mine, she was silenced. No one existed in that moment but us. Our bodies pressed together while she allowed me to explore her mouth with eagerness. What was once an uncomfortable tug at my jeans now became an unbearable ache. My zipper felt like a guillotine threatening to sever my head. I needed her in the worst and best of ways. No…being Mandy’s friend would never be enough.

  Chapter 7

  Mandy

  Tommy raced around the corner and plowed into us. “Mommy, it’s time to…” His eyes opened wide. “You were kissing. K-I-S-S-I-N-G, Mommy and Beau were kissing in a tree,” he sang.

  “Come here, squirt.” Beau picked Tommy up and threw him over his shoulder. “If you stop trying to embarrass your mom, I’ll teach you a new song during the week. I’ll even show you how to play the guitar.”

  “A real guitar?”

  “Yes, my guitar.” He flipped Tommy over and landed him on his feet. With a gentle coaxing, Beau turned him toward the kitchen. “Tell the Grandmas we’ll be right there.”

  The fight drained out of me as I watched the two of them together. Beau was so right for Tommy and so wrong for me. I needed steadfast and stable. Beau was a nomad. He traveled the world and tasted its wares. That was great for a single guy with hundreds of groupies, but I needed a family man and Beau had already proved he didn’t have the staying power. But that kiss…

  “We were interrupted.” He leaned into me and nuzzled my neck. White, hot passion raged through my body and settled in my core. My knees buckled from the heated breath that caressed my skin. If it weren’t for the hands he’d placed on my hips, I would have puddled on the floor. “I plan to finish what we started.” He pressed his mouth to mine and pulled my lower lip between his. With a gentle suckle, he pulled away with a pop. “Tommy’s waiting. We have wishes to make.” He stepped back and devoured me with his eyes. There was no doubt what he’d wish for, the lust had turned his sapphire eyes to indigo. I needed distance. I needed perspective. I needed to stop this madness with Beau.

  With my shoulders pulled back, I sucked in enough courage for a bold-faced lie. “There’s nothing to finish. The kiss was nice, but nothing to tweet about.”

  “That’s a shame.” He cradled my cheek in the warm palm of his hand like he used to when he loved me. “And I thought you were enjoying it. Time to up my game.” He flashed a white smile and left me by the front door. What was I going to do about Beau?

  It took ten minutes to steady my heart rate, and another five, along with a splash of water, to dull the red that flushed my cheeks.

  When I entered the kitchen, everyone was asses to elbows in glue and glitter. Tommy sat at the table, hovering over his tiny piece of paper. His arms folded around it like a fortress. Beau was dipping his pinecone tips in glue and our mothers were dumping more glitter onto the paper plates.

  Sarah Tinsel pulled me into her arms. “It’s so good to see you, sweetheart.” She hugged me close for longer than needed and before she relinquished her grip on me, she said, “he’s a good man, Mandy, he just needs a good woman to guide him.” She pushed back and kissed my cheek. Expressive eyes ran in the Tinsel family. Sarah’s were filled with optimism.

  “Your turn, Mandy.” Mom handed me a pinecone and a slip of paper.

  “No thanks, I’m fresh out of wishes.” I set the materials back on the table and walked to the refrigerator. “Is anyone hungry?”

  Beau lifted his glittered hand. “Starved,” he said. His tone was full and sexy, and I wasn’t positive he was talking about filling his stomach.

  “Omelet?”

  “I’d love to taste whatever you have to offer.” It was obvious why he sold millions of records. His voice alone could melt the pants off a frigid woman, but when you stirred that with sexual innuendo, no girl was safe.

  “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s only a cheese omelet.” Not wanting him to see the heat in my cheeks, I stuck my head in the cold refrigerator and rooted around for ingredients.

  Twenty minutes later, Beau and I were scrunched at the end of the Formica table eating.

  “Amazing,” he said. “You never cooked like this when we were kids.”

  “I didn’t have years of technique pounded into me back then.” I lifted my fork and watched the melted cheese string down to the plate. With a swirl, I severed the strands.

  “Pounded into you sounds intriguing,” he whispered.

  A glance around the kitchen showed that no one was paying attention to our conversation. Mom and Sarah were mooning over Tommy, and the way he was applying glitter to his pinecone. “This one’s for Mommy,” I heard him say. “She can fill it with her wish.”

  I let out a sigh of defeat. “Mom, hand me a scrap of paper so I can make my wish.” Mom rushed to the table with a pen, and the paper, and a huge smile. Somehow, she’d won—again.

  When her hand crossed in front of my face, I noticed globs of glitter stuck to her bandage. With a shake of my head, I pulled her wrist in front of me. “Don’t you think it’s time you let go of this farce? I know, and you know, that you didn’t fall. You didn’t sprain anything, and you certainly don’t need to perpetuate the lie.”

  She tried to pull her hand away, but I had a six-year-old, and I was trained in evasion tactics. “Stop fussing, Mom.” I released the clips and began to unwind the long cloth bandage.

  “Mandy, you’re hurting me.”

  Tired of being manipulated by everyone around me, I wasn’t swayed at her feeble attempts to extend the ruse. Enough was enough. Mom flinched as I tore at what remained of the bandage.

  My throat tightened and my stomach twisted when I saw her injury. Mom’s wrist was the color of an eggplant. She had told the truth. She had fallen, and I hadn’t believed her. “Oh. God. Mom. I’m so sorry.” I cradled her hand in mine and ran my thumb across the bruise. It was angry, and inflamed, and real.

  Beau stepped into action by sitting my mom in his chair and gathering a baggy of ice. He wrapped the pack in a towel and set it on her wound.

  “Thank you, Beau.” Her voice was sweet and gentle and showed her sense of appreciation. When her eyes turned to me, they held something completely different. Gone was the love and softness and in its place was plain old hurt.

  “Mandy, when did you become such a cynic.” Those were almost the same words Beau had thrown at me earlier. Where had I gone wrong? I had allowed life’s bumps to throw me off track, to change me, and I needed to get myself straight.

  Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” Words were not enough to make amends for doubting her. She’d never doubted me. She hadn’t been easy on me, but not once in my entire life had she not been there for me. I was the worst daughter.

  “Oh, honey, it’s all right. I can’t say I wouldn’t have resorted to a fib to get you home.” She smiled in Sarah’s direction. Turning back, her eyes landed on Beau. “Don’t be angry at your mom either, she was inspired by my mishap.”

  “I’m not angry. I’m grateful.”

  He stared at me like he was looking into my soul, searching for anything that said I felt the same. Without thought, I reached across and squeezed his hand.

  Mom broke the moment when she dropped a grenade on the conversation. “Oh, before I forget. We have an order for three hundred Christmas wreath cookies tomorrow. They want green icing and a red bow.”

  “What?” My shock settled around us like a thick fog. “I can’t make three hundred cookies along with everything else with only Misty to help.”

  “Really, Mandy? Is this how the whole trip is going to be—you finding fault with everything? What happened to my can-do girl? Don’t worry, I’ve got a temp for you.”

  I
hung my head, hoping she wouldn’t see my real feelings. What was a temp supposed to do if I had to spend hours training them? I’d been home a day, and I was already bone-deep tired, but I forced a smile and lifted my head. “Sounds super.”

  “Where is your car?” Mom cocked her head toward the front door like x-ray vision would allow her to see it.

  “It wouldn’t start, so I had it towed. I’ll have to borrow your car tomorrow.”

  Mom lifted her shoulders with indifference. “That’s no problem. Sarah and I are taking Tommy to see Santa.”

  “If you don’t stop spoiling him, he won’t want to go back to New York.”

  “Oh no…you’ve discovered my evil plan.” She cackled like a witch. “You look exhausted, Mandy, Sarah and I will take care of Tommy, why don’t you go to bed. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.”

  The groan slipped out on its own. I tried to cover it with an exaggerated yawn, but no one was buying it. “Let me make my wish and then I’m out of here.” I looked around the room and thought about what I’d wish for. There was only one logical thing to hope for, so I jotted it down and shoved it into the pinecone Tommy had decorated for me.

  After kissing him goodnight, I hugged the mothers and nodded toward Beau who was back to decorating pinecones. Then, I trudged upstairs. Walking into my old room was like opening a time capsule. Why I kept the pink canopy bed all these years was beyond me, and yet it wasn’t. I accused Mom of holding on to the past, but the truth was, I kept this bed because my father had built it, and I didn’t have the heart to see it disappear. I always believed I’d have a little girl, and she’d sleep in the bed that her grandfather had built.

  Tommy wouldn’t even sit on it. I showed him my room when we’d arrived yesterday. He took one look at the pink lace that hung from the canopy and shook his head. He avoided it like it would suck the emerging manliness out of his body.

  He did like the spider web in the corner though, and cried when I said I was removing it. He made me trap its leggy occupant in a cup and relocate it outside before he would go to bed. Then, he climbed into the bed in the room next to mine and slept like the dead while I replayed every moment of the last ten years of my life. What I felt most was gut-wrenching loss.

  A knock at the door broke me from my musings. It didn’t surprise me when Beau walked in and sat beside me on my bed. It felt comfortable. How many times had we sat here and done homework? Talked? Made out?

  “Are you okay?” His sweetness was my undoing.

  “Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know.” I threw my hands in the air. “It’s all too much. Coming home. Seeing you. Working at the Sweet Shop. The kiss I wanted to hate but loved.” Shit, did I actually say that?

  “I loved it, too.” His fingers ran through my hair, gripping me tight at the neck. “I want to love it more.”

  Every hormone in my body was screaming yes, but my mouth said, “No.” I moved his hands from me and pressed them to those damn blue jeans that hugged his thighs in the most perfect way. “It’s too much.”

  Beau nodded. “You’re overthinking it, Mandy. Just go with it.”

  “I can’t. Don’t you understand, I have more to think about than me?” I rubbed my face with my palms.

  “I’m not asking to kiss Tommy.”

  “You haven’t asked to kiss me. You’ve just taken what you wanted. Don’t I have a choice?”

  His head snapped back like I’d slapped him. “Okay, no more unwelcome kisses.” His voice sank with each word. He glanced around as if looking for an escape. With a pat on his legs, he rose. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He rocked back and forth on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. I’d rocked his confidence. What kind of terrible person was I becoming?

  “Beau, it’s not that I don’t love your kisses. I do. It’s that I can’t handle your kisses. I don’t know how to navigate this mess.” I hadn’t been this truthful to anyone, including myself, in a long time.

  “Mandy, I’d insist on navigating for both of us, but then you’d accuse me of taking away your choices. I’ve learned my lesson. I want your kisses, but I won’t demand them. I’ll wait until you’re begging me for them. Until then, I’ll prove that I’m a man you can trust. It’s the least I can do for our friendship.” He leaned forward like he was going to kiss me, but instead, he brought his lips a whisper away from my ear. “You will beg, Mandy. That’s a promise I can make and keep.”

  Chapter 8

  Beau

  I wished I could have captured the look on Mandy’s face before I left last night, or the look that must have been on my face when Mom and Annie told me I was the temp for the Sweet Shop.

  Leaning against the rental car, I crossed my arms and waited for her to step out of the house. I didn’t think the temperature could drop any further, but it was arctic cold, the kind you feel in your marrow. The smart thing would have been to wait in the warm car, but I knew Mandy, and she was on the stubborn side. Just to spite me, she’d walk by, pretending I wasn’t taking up the entire driveway.

  The rattle of the door handle sent my heart racing. I had less than two weeks to change Mandy’s mind about me. The problem was, I didn’t know what her mind was telling her. One minute, she appeared to like me, and the next, she appeared to loathe me.

  When she turned around, she came to an abrupt stop. “What are you doing here?” She pulled the collar of her jacket tight around her neck.

  “I’m your temp for the day.” I gave her an ain’t-that-grand look and opened the door to the passenger side of the car for her.

  “No way. I’m going to kill her.” She shoved her hand into her pocket, rooting around for something. “Oh, my God, she took her keys back.” She marched to the front door and tugged at the handle. “She locked me out.”

  “Well, I’m your driver, and I’m freezing, so if you could hurry up and get in the car, the parts of my body that haven’t suffered from frostbite would be grateful.” I pulled my gloved fingers to my mouth and huffed on them. The heat of my breath was eaten up by cold air that disappeared like a puff of smoke.

  “Holy shit, Beau, what in the hell are you doing out here? What if you got frostbite and couldn’t play your guitar?” She rushed toward me and pulled off my gloves, then began rubbing my fingers between her palms. She pulled them to her mouth and blew her peppermint breath across my knuckles. I never craved a candy kiss so bad in my life. I was chocolate, she was peppermint—we were perfect together.

  I didn’t want to pull my hand from in front of her mouth, but if we stood out front much longer, we would be permanent fixtures until the spring thaw. “In you go, but if you insist on putting your lips on me again, I have some preferred locations.” I shot her a lecherous smile.

  “I bet you do.” She climbed into the car, and I rushed around to the driver’s side to enter. With the heat pumped to high, we both held our fingertips against the vents. “I don’t remember it being this cold.”

  “It’s not normally this frigid, but Mom said something about an arctic shift. We’re supposed to get a thaw just before Christmas.” I put the car in reverse and pulled out of her driveway. This felt like old times when I’d driven her to school. Only then, I had a truck, and she usually slid across the bench and snuggled into my side. Back then, I didn’t rush to put the heat on. I relished the feel of her body next to mine. I never thought I’d say it, but I missed that truck. The console that now sat between us felt like a continent.

  “What is it you’re supposed to help me with today? You’re a musician, not a baker.”

  “How hard can it be? It’s cookies for goodness sake.”

  “Did you just dis my occupation?” She spun in her seat as far as the belt would allow.

  The heat of her temper warmed up the car by several degrees. Immediate backtracking and sucking up was needed. “I’m just saying that with your excellent tutelage, my sorry ass can help with something, even if it’s dishes or running the cash register. Music is lyrical math, I�
�m pretty sure I can count back change.”

  She tucked a strand of blonde hair back into her knit cap. “That’s a pretty big step down for a man who makes a gazillion dollars a concert.” She picked up my thermal coffee cup. “Do you mind? I didn’t have time to make a cup.”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her pull the cup to her lips and drink long and slow. Just having something of mine close to her lips was great, but when she hummed with satisfaction, I smiled. I remember a time when she’d been beneath me and made that same sound.

  “How do you always get the perfect mix?” A droplet rested on her lower lip. I wanted to pull the car over and lick it, but I settled for the sight of her pink tongue sliding from her mouth to sweep the drop away. Shifting in my seat, I was back to yesterday with a zipper threatening to make me a eunuch.

  “It’s all about the cow. You know…a half a cow and teaspoon of sugar.” Wasn’t that what she asked me just yesterday? Had it been only a day?

  “You’re such a smart ass.”

  “Yes, but I’m working harder on the smart than the ass. Give me a chance, Mandy.” I pulled the SUV in front of the Sweet Shop. The inside lights were on, meaning someone was already hard at work. I exited and rushed to open Mandy’s door. Her eyes held warmth; her lips stretched to a thin line. She was conflicted.

  “We’ve got a lot to do.” She marched toward the side door, leaving me behind. I rushed to get the door for her. I might have been stupid, I might have been an ass, but I was definitely a gentleman. My mom demanded it.

  Misty was at the mixer, throwing sugar and butter into the big silver bowl. Her eyes rose to meet ours, and when she saw me standing behind Mandy, her jaw dropped along with the bag of sugar. White granules cascaded over the floor. Who knew a ten-pound bag of sugar could coat so many square feet?

  Mandy looked at the mess on the floor and then at me. “That’s your first job, Mr. Temp.”