had learned a lot about self-control over the years. He understood now that he couldn’t always have what he wanted. But Mari made him think of tossing all that out the window and kissing her senseless right here on his aunt’s driveway. In fact, he was liking that idea more and more.
“If you’re gonna worry about gossip, we should really give people something to talk about.”
He gave her his wickedest grin. When she didn’t run, he reached out, slid both hands up her arms and pulled her close.
Not close enough, since she was wrapped in twenty layers of fabric, but still within kissing distance.
Her pretty blue eyes rounded so big, her lush black lashes almost hit her eyebrows as he lowered his mouth to hers.
Delicious.
Heat surged. Even though he wanted to devour her mouth, he kept the kiss whisper-soft, with barely a hint of pressure.
He expected her to push him away. He just hoped he’d get one good taste before she did.
The last thing he figured she’d do was kiss him back.
Her tongue met his, spearing fire through his body. Damn, he loved being wrong. Mari’s mouth was a sweetly addicting nectar and after just one taste, he was hooked.
Their lips slipped together like they were made for each other. A perfect fit, Declan thought as he glided his tongue along the delicate seam of her lips, imagining other seams, other lips, other hot kisses as she gasped and opened to him.
Their tongues tangled in a hot, frantic dance. Her fingers gripped his arms, nails digging into his biceps in a way that made him groan. He slipped his hands down to cup her butt, then, remembering they were in his aunt’s driveway, he quickly moved them back to her waist.
After a few more incredible seconds, he gave in to the soft pressure of her hands on his shoulders and pulled back to stare at Mari. Her eyes were a misty blue, fogged with desire and, he was pleased to see, sexual curiosity.
He was looking forward to answering any questions she might have.
“Was that an agreement?” she asked breathlessly. “Your way of saying you were sorry and you’ll help me out?”
The heat in his blood cooled instantly. “Is that why you kissed me? To convince me to do what you wanted?” he demanded.
CHAPTER FIVE
“THAT wasn’t what I was trying to do.” Mari’s head was spinning; she could barely think straight. Her lips still tingled, sending waves of molten heat swirling down to her belly.
When Mari was sixteen, Declan had given her the best kiss of her life. It’d set a high bar for every brush of the lips she’d had since. It’d taken until she was twenty-four for anyone to raise that bar. Didn’t it just figure it’d be him again?
“We shouldn’t have kissed,” she decided breathlessly. “There’s no way anyone will believe your denial if we’re seen making out again.”
“They wouldn’t believe me if I hauled out film footage and played it at the movie theater, darlin’. And since there’s no point wasting our time trying to convince them, let’s focus on something else.”
Mari was getting a pretty strong clue just exactly what he wanted to focus on, too. His hands traced a path down her spine to settle under her coat on the small of her back. Despite the cold, his palms warmed her hips as he pressed her closer.
She breathed in his scent, male and inviting. The contrast of his hot body and the cool air only added to the surreal sensation as her brain once again checked out and she stood on tiptoe to meet his descending mouth. His lips were soft, his tongue teasing as he coaxed the heat up a couple hundred degrees.
He was so freaking delicious. As long as he kept on kissing her, she didn’t care what people said.
She heard the sound of a car starting up somewhere in the distance. As if she’d been set on fire, Mari ripped her mouth from Declan’s and jumped back.
So much for not caring. The look Declan gave her—part exasperation, part disappointment—made it clear he knew the reason behind her abrupt movement.
She bristled, her chin shifting higher.
“I’m not trying to deny my part in that kiss. Or to claim it wasn’t …” Incredible. Sexy as hell. Orgasm on a stick. “ … nice … But we barely know each other. We haven’t spoken in years, so I just think it’s a little too soon to get that familiar. Okay?”
He arched a brow. “And when do you think it’ll be soon enough?”
Mari bit her lip, wanting to say that two more seconds would be plenty of time. But she couldn’t. She had returned to Ponder Hill to start a new life for herself. To build a business and become a part of the community, something she’d missed in the hustle and bustle of California living. And she was pretty sure the community wouldn’t embrace their new hairdresser getting hot and heavy with the town bad boy up against a plywood donkey. And she knew her mother definitely wouldn’t.
“I think we’re getting sidetracked,” she hedged, needing to get this back on topic. “I came over to talk to you about those rumors, remember?”
“I’ve got things to do,” he snorted, obviously feeling a little pissy. “You ever stop worrying about other people’s opinions, you give me a yell. Otherwise, let’s call that our second kiss goodbye.”
CHAPTER SIX
PRETENDING he wasn’t hurt, Declan turned back to the manger he’d just finished hammering together before Mari’s surprise visit. With a grunt, he lifted it upright and set it on the cement to make sure it was even.
“You’re working on the holiday contest entry?” she asked. He could hear by her tone that she was fishing around for a safe topic. Probably to give herself time to figure out another way to nag him into a town confession.
Declan set his teeth and kept his attention on the eight-foot wooden display, ignoring the frustration—sexual and otherwise—clawing through his system.
“Yeah. This is the Coles’ year to win,” he declared, grabbing a file from his toolbox. Wincing a little, he crouched down to take a little off the right side so the manger stood steady.
“My mom was just saying she’d love to come in first this year,” Mari mused. “I promised her we’d enter together. I’m going to come up with a fun design and surprise her with it.”
Declan craned his head around to watch her poking at the various wooden pieces he’d built. Angels for the roof, sheep and cows for the yard. The structures for the living nativity Uncle Eric was choreographing for the town.
“Are you asking for my help?” He rubbed his chin, wondering at the ethics of aiding and abetting someone in competition with his family. Maybe if the design were different enough …?
“I already asked for your help and you turned me down, remember?” she said, giving him a saucy look. “I’ve decorated storefronts and
