Under the Mistletoe. Katherine Garbera
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But that was behind her now. Will thought she was intriguing instead of old reliable Penny. That would be very exciting and different.
She’d be able to enjoy her holiday the way she’d planned. She thought of the framed print that she’d propped up in the kitchenette of her cabin.
No Regrets. Just Good Times, Love, Peace and Lots of Chocolate.
Will Spalding seemed the perfect man for that if he was single and interested, and she acknowledged there was a 50/50 chance he wasn’t even single. Well, he looked interested. God, what if he was another loser? Granted, a very sexy-looking one, but still...
He didn’t look like a loser, though. Not with that firm square jaw and serious expression on his face. He looked like someone who lived life on his own terms.
“I’ll leave you to the snowbank. I look forward to seeing you again,” he said.
He continued walking down the path and all she could do was watch him go. He had a seriously nice ass.
She didn’t realize she was staring until he turned to the cabin next to hers and then put his key in the lock and looked back at her. She shook her head and waved and then dashed back into her own cabin.
He was cute and she felt incredibly attracted to him, and for thirty seconds she just stood there letting all those feelings wash over her. She even felt a bit like her old self again.
Wild. Free. And ready for adventure.
* * *
WILL HAD BEEN on his own since he was fourteen. He didn’t say that to gain sympathy, as he was a trust-fund baby used to having whatever he wanted—as long as it was something that could be purchased. And for the better part of the year being alone suited him just fine.
But Christmas was his Achilles’ heel. He hated not sharing it with someone else. Christmas brought with it lonely memories that he had learned a long time ago would overwhelm him if he didn’t ensure he was distracted.
Being a man of action, he’d developed a very simple way of dealing with it: affairs that lasted two weeks. That was the optimal amount of time. Plenty of days for fun and not enough time to form a real bond with another person. One week left him wanting more, and after two weeks the novelty was gone. No strings, no hurt feelings afterward, just two weeks of pure, frivolous pleasure for him and the lady of his choice.
He’d learned that the hard way during his brief marriage when he was younger, and had decided to limit himself to just two weeks.
Will put his leather suitcase in the corner and thought of Ms. Penelope Devlin next door. On the surface she seemed like his favorite kind of distraction.
She was cute and funny and a bit charming in her awkwardness. He’d been very good at keeping his affairs light and making sure the women he got involved with wanted exactly what he did from the affair—fun and temporary companionship.
Penny was definitely intriguing. Maybe she was looking for something to take her mind off her problems. Plus that one innocent little touch of their hands had shaken him to his core.
It had been a while since he’d felt the zing of lust at first sight. And he wasn’t sure he was ready to write it off simply because she might be more than what he’d been expecting to find. Ah, hell, who was he kidding? He wanted her. And unless she shut him down, he was going to go after her. No bones about it.
Which made her dangerous, because he was simply looking for a casual affair, not a woman who could touch him all the way to his soul.
Shoving those troubling notions aside, he unpacked, checked his email and then realized that he totally sucked at relaxing when he glanced up and realized the sun had already set.
Where had the time gone?
He could eat dinner in his bungalow...but he’d be alone with just his thoughts, so he put on his shearling coat and snow boots and left his cabin. He stood in the doorway and looked at the night sky, so big and bright on this clear, cold evening. In the distance he saw the twinkling of lights down in the valley where the town was.
His breath puffed out in front of him as he locked the door and went down the path leading back to the main lodge. He glanced at Penelope’s door as he passed it. Someone had hung a Christmas wreath on it and strung some lights around the door frame. It looked homey and festive and not at all like his dark doorway.
“It’s beginning to look at lot like Christmas,” he muttered aloud.
It was just the little nudge he needed to start thinking more about Penelope. Maybe she was just what he needed this Christmas.
The path to the Lodge was lit with gas-style electric lamps with holly wrapped around the posts. A light snow was still falling and he promised himself that tomorrow he’d take advantage of the ski slopes. But that left a solid twelve hours to fill and even though he had international business interests, he didn’t want to spend the entire time working.
He climbed the steps that lead to the lobby past the lounge area that was dotted with fire pits and large padded chairs. There were families roasting marshmallows and couples snuggling under heavy blankets, and he just kept walking into the building away from all that...togetherness.
A blast of yuletide music hit him as he entered the lobby. “Last Christmas”...it had been his mom’s favorite song. Funny that he could still remember details like that, but not her face without the help of a picture.
He paused for a moment to listen to the song and let those faraway memories wash over him. There were times when he wished for things that couldn’t be. He shook himself and walked straight to the bar and ordered a seltzer water with a twist of lime. Though what he really wanted was a double shot of whiskey neat. Being a recovering alcoholic was a constant struggle.
But he’d never been good with self-control, especially when he felt like this. Truth was, he’d been unable to describe this feeling to any of his therapists, and there had been a lot of them during his teenage years. He just knew when he felt this way, he could destroy things—including himself—and not give a crap.
But the last time he’d done that, it had taken a lot of time and money to clean up the mess, and he still had some scars from that incident that hadn’t fully healed.
“Gin and tonic?” Penelope asked as she slid onto the seat next to his at the bar. She’d changed out of those leggings and the long sweater into a micro-miniskirt that ended at the top of her thighs, and her furry boots had been replaced with a leather pair that hugged her calves. She looked chic and fashionable.
And drop-dead gorgeous.
She wasn’t tall but sort of average sized and curvy. Her blond hair was pulled back around her face but left to hang free. It was stick-straight and looked like sunshine to him. She’d put on some kind of lip gloss that made her mouth seem full and kissable.
Kissable? Really? Was he going to be the kind of sap who—
He knew he shouldn’t stare at her legs and forced his gaze to her face. But the image of those long, shapely calves lingered in his mind. He wanted