green candles.
Seeing Rory and Finley were still stringing the lights, she decided this would be a good time for her to make some cocoa and headed for the kitchen. But she’d barely gotten the milk in the pan before Rory walked in.
“After the way you shot me down over the mistletoe, I’m guessing I should apologize for kissing you this afternoon.”
His comment surprised her so much that she turned from the stove. The repentant look on his face squeezed her heart. Because she’d been as much of a party to that kiss as he’d been, she’d be a real hypocrite if she let him take the blame. “No apology necessary.”
“Really? Because you’re kind of standoffish.”
She drew in a breath. What could she say? There’s no chance of a relationship between us, so I’m being careful? She’d look like an idiot. Especially since in this day and age a kiss didn’t necessary equate to a relationship. Hell, for some people sex didn’t necessarily equate to a relationship.
“I’m tired.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He took a few more steps into the room, walking to the center island, where she’d set three mugs on a tray. “What’s this?”
“Mugs for cocoa.”
He glanced up. Smiled. “I love cocoa. I haven’t had it since I was about eight.”
“Then it’s time you did.”
He laughed. “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to apologize for kissing you. I wanted to kiss you.”
Pleasure exploded inside her again. Why did he have to be so sweet? “Because I make cocoa?”
“Because you make me laugh. You’re a nice person. A good person. I’d be an idiot if I didn’t see how you’re turning Finley around. She’s actually humming a Christmas song in there.”
She walked over to the stove, stirred the cocoa mix into the warm milk. “I’m not really doing much of anything. I think Finley’s finally ready to be turned. I just have more Christmas things at my disposal than you do.”
He shook his head. “No. I think she’s ready because you nudge her along.”
She walked to the island, brusquely picked up the tray of mugs to take to the counter by the stove. But he caught her hand. “Why won’t you let me compliment you?”
“Because I’m not doing anything. It’s the season. The time she’s spending at the store.” She shrugged, wishing he’d let go of her hand so she could scamper away. Wishing he’d hold on to it because it felt so good to have a man touch her again. And not just any man. Someone she liked.
“Well, we’re at the store because of you…so we’re back to you being responsible.”
Humor crinkled the corners of his eyes, pulled his full lips upward. Her heart stuttered a bit, filled with hope. How easy it would be to simply laugh and accept what was happening. Part of her longed to do just that. To relax. To enjoy. No matter what he decided about the store, they’d separate. She didn’t have to fear getting involved in something so deep it would force her to tell her big secret.
But the other part knew that she couldn’t spend another four days with this man without falling head-over-heels in love. She was so needy, so desperate, that every scrap of attention he threw her drew her in like a kitten to a bowl of fresh milk. She had to keep her distance.
Still, she argued with her wiser self. Couldn’t she enjoy this, breathe it in, savor it…so she’d have pleasant memories for the long cold nights ahead?
She didn’t know. If in her desperation she fell in love, those wonderful memories she was creating could actually haunt her.
So she simply shrugged. “I see myself more as having fun with Finley than being responsible for her turnaround.”
“And we are a team.”
She smiled slightly. She’d forgotten they’d formed a team that morning. “You’re right.”
“Seriously, you’re great with kids. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. His comment wasn’t out of line. It wasn’t even unusual. But she hadn’t been prepared for it.
She yanked the tray of empty mugs from the center island, effectively pulling her wrist out from underneath his hand and scurried to the stove to grab a ladle to scoop hot cocoa into the mugs.
“Want to get the marshmallows?” she asked, her voice cracking just a bit.
He pulled away from the center island. “Sure. Where are they?”
She pointed. “Second shelf, second cupboard.”
He opened the cabinet door and pulled out the marshmallows.
“Grab a bowl from that cupboard over there,” she said, pointing at a cabinet across the room. “And put about a cupful in the bowl. That way you and Finley can take as many marshmallows as you want.”
He filled the bowl with marshmallows, set it on the tray in the center of the three cups of steaming cocoa. But he didn’t move his hand so she could lift the tray.
So she stepped away again. “You know what?” She walked to the refrigerator and opened the door of the small freezer section on top. “I have some Christmas cookies from a batch I made last weekend.” She retrieved a plastic bag of fruit horn cookies. “Since Finley’s handling the Christmas music, maybe it’s time to indoctrinate her into cookies.”
He laughed. “They don’t look like Christmas cookies.”
But when she brought a plateful of the cookies to the microwave to thaw them, he was in her way again.
She edged past him, first to get a plate to lay them out on, then to open the microwave door. When she set the timer and turned away, once again he was right in front of her.
“My little girl had lost Christmas and you’re helping her find it again.”
“We’re helping her find it again,” she pointed out, reminding him of the team they’d formed.
“It’s more you.” As he said the words, his hands fell to her shoulders and his head descended. She realized his intention about two seconds before his lips met hers, but by then it was too late to pull away.
Sensation exploded inside her. Sweet, wonderful need. Her arms ached to wrap around his shoulders. Her body longed to step into his, feel the total length of him pressed up against her. But fear shadowed every thought, every feeling. What would he say if she told him she couldn’t have kids? How would he react? Would he be so loving then? Or angry as Bryce had been?
She swallowed. She didn’t want to test him.
Still, there was no need. They’d really only just met. In a few days, they’d part. Couldn’t she keep the situation so light that there’d be no worry about falling in love?
Maybe.
Hope
