Kitabı oku: «12 Gifts for Christmas», sayfa 8

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MARI was pissed.

Declan didn’t give a damn.

Refusing to look over at her house, he hauled the ruined lumber off the stage. He kicked aside an empty paint can, sending it ricocheting off a plywood donkey as he hauled the mess over to toss in the back of his truck.

“Dec?”

Softening his glare, he turned around. “Yeah, Aunt Amanda?”

“I’m running into town to get more lights for the display. Do you need me to pick up anything?”

He took in everything on the lawn. Other than the irritation factor, the actual damage was minimal. Some paint, a few broken boards. A minor ding to his ego and crack in his heart. No biggie.

“Nah, we’re okay. It’s mostly cosmetic. I’ll have things back on track by this evening. You’re still gonna win,” he vowed.

He’d wanted to win when he’d agreed to build the display. He’d really, really wanted to win when he’d bet on the contest’s outcome with Mari. But now? Now he’d do whatever it took to make sure they did.

“This isn’t your fault, you know,” she said quietly. “Don’t own this obnoxious act, Declan. This isn’t about you, it’s about someone cheating and being mean.”

“Could be,” he responded, giving her a grateful hug. He didn’t agree, but he didn’t want her worrying, either. “How’d you get so savvy?”

“Oh, please. I raised Rita Mae. That girl could have given you a run for your money when it came to trouble. And don’t get me started on the things Layla and Alison got up to.”

Declan laughed, just as she’d intended.

But as soon as she left, so did his smile. The Cole girls had nothing on him when it came to trouble. Even Rita. But him? Even when he didn’t go searching for it, trouble still followed him.

Maybe he shouldn’t have accused Mari of sabotaging his display. At first, he’d figured nobody else had anything to gain. But an hour of hauling debris had given him plenty of think-time. Enough to realize that he’d been an ass to assume that Mari was the only person who might have an issue with him. After all, most of the town would probably be happy to see the back of him again. And he’d been even more stupid to believe that Mari would do anything so hurtful.

For the first time since he’d stormed away from Mari, Declan glanced across the street. She’d added an inflatable holiday globe to the landscape and was now arranging three-foot-tall candy canes along the walkway. He watched her bend over to wiggle one of the sticks into the hard dirt and gave a hum of appreciation at the way her backside swayed with the effort. He was going crazy with wanting her.

Declan shoved his hands into his pockets and contemplated the situation. He could leave things be and let Mari stay pissed at him. That was probably smarter. Or he could go over and apologize. The words might burn his throat. But for another one of her sweet smiles, it’d be worth it.

And maybe if he offered to help her hang a few balls, he could finagle a kiss or two.

CHAPTER TWELVE

STUPID. Frozen. Ground.

Mari growled as she shoved and twisted, trying to work another candy cane into the hard dirt path along the walkway leading to the front porch.

“Need help?”

With a gasp, Mari spun around, the candy cane still clenched in her fists. The long, dirt-encrusted end of it smacked Declan in that sexy, broad chest with a loud whap. Flecks of mud and grass flew everywhere.

Mari slapped her hand over her mouth. Eyes wide, she hoped he’d take her reaction as horror.

“First you beat me, then you laugh about it?” he dead-panned, staring first at her, then down at the mess she’d made on his long-sleeved denim shirt.

Laughter snorted out from behind her fingers. She shrugged, trying to get control of herself as she watched the clumps of icy grass slide down his chest, leaving behind a dirty trail. Her fingers tingled with the need to follow the same path and see if he was as hard as he looked.

“And you really want me to believe you don’t have it in for me?” he asked, his eyes guarded as he flicked the last of the debris from his belt buckle. Desire flared under her amusement as her eyes fell to that buckle and the promise beneath it.

“I really don’t,” she promised absently, distracted by the path his hand was traveling. Up those hard abs. His fingers brushed at his wide chest, then skimmed back down to his waist, where he wiped yet more dirt away. She noted there were a few specks on his crotch, too. She swallowed, her mouth desert-dry. Maybe she could get those for him?

She’d been nursing her anger so well she’d been able to ignore how hurt she felt. But now that the anger was gone, a miserable sadness filled Mari. She’d never have done anything to cause him pain like that. First of all, she’d never vandalize anyone’s property. And to do it as a skeezy attempt to renege on their bet? How could he think that?

Especially when a part of her, mostly the part currently warming up her jeans, actually wanted him to win.

“That wasn’t fair,” she said quietly.

She was glad that Declan didn’t pretend not to understand what she meant.

“I know.” He shrugged, then tilted his head and gave her the cutest little-boy-bad look. Combined with the wicked gleam in his eyes as he gave her a sexy once-over, he was totally irresistible.

And she realized she didn’t want to resist him. For once, she wished she could just give in and be as bad as he was. To revel in the delicious delight of doing what felt good.

He grinned, as if he could read her thoughts, and said, “I figure you’re so sure you’re going to kick my butt in the contest you actually don’t need to cheat.”

“You really do know me,” she teased.

All of her. And she wanted to know all of him.

Her heart warmed. Filled with a joy she didn’t quite understand and was afraid to examine too closely for fear of having to admit feelings she wasn’t ready to face, Mari held out her hand.

Declan eyed her fingers with a raised brow.

“C’mon inside,” she invited. “I’ll rinse that grass off your shirt before it leaves a stain.”

“Just making sure …” he said, enveloping her hand in his and short-circuiting her brain. “You’re inviting me in to take off my clothes?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DECLAN stood in the dimly lit garage next to the washing machine, watching Mari fuss over his shirt. She was attacking the smear of mud with a soapy cloth like it was the anti-Santa.

“It’s just a work shirt,” he protested mildly, feeling a little chilled standing there in only a T-shirt. He’d thought she was asking him in for more than a stain scrubbing, but since they’d been here, she’d been Ms. Clean.

Then he caught it. A tiny little sideways peek out of the corner of her eye. A faint wash of color tinting her cheeks. The way her hands trembled while sponging at the stain.

Declan smiled, slow and wicked. He stepped closer, so he was inches away from Mari’s shoulder, crowding her space. Her fingers squeezed the cloth so tight, tiny bubbles foamed out.

Then she froze. He waited. They both knew the question. Despite the raging desire pounding against his zipper, he wasn’t going to pressure her. Nor was he going to make it uncomfortable for her to say no. So he just stood there. After three hellishly long seconds, she bit her lip and glanced up at him.

He saw the sweet vulnerability in her blue eyes. She didn’t ask for promises. But that look told him how easily she could be hurt.

Ten years ago he wouldn’t have cared.

Now?

Declan’s heart pounded as he reached out to brush aside the long, silky blond curtain of hair so he could press a kiss against the side of her throat. He breathed deeply, taking in her spicy, floral scent.

He couldn’t offer her a future since he didn’t know what his own held. But he could promise that he’d never, ever hurt her if he could help it.

As if she’d heard his silent assurance, Mari turned into his arms, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she met his lips. Their kiss flamed quickly, hot and wild as their tongues danced and their bodies pressed tightly together.

He slid his hands down to cup her butt, lifting her flush against his throbbing erection. She moaned, her hips undulating in a little circle, teasing them both.

He needed more. With a quick glance around to confirm the garage door was closed, he pulled her over to a workbench covered in the makings of a merry Christmas.

Declan shoved aside the piles of wrapping paper, ribbon and bits of tinsel and effortlessly lifted Mari onto the bench. He noted the plaque hanging over it, claiming this as Santa’s Workshop.

“I guess we’ll be using Santa’s bench to make something other than toys,” he teased as his hands skimmed her sides to pull her sweater over her head. His body went rock-hard at the sight of her. Her candy-cane-striped bra cupped her bountiful gifts, making his mouth water for a taste. He tugged down the satin and groaned. She was gorgeous.

“You think he and Mrs. Claus get their frisky on after the elves have gone to bed?” she asked breathlessly, arching her back when his tongue flicked over her ripe nipple.

“Santa’s never had it this good,” he vowed as he unsnapped her jeans.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HURRYING to get naked as fast as she could despite the chill, Mari kicked off her tennis shoes then shifted so Declan could remove her jeans. His hands slicked down the length of her legs as he pulled the denim off. Holding one stockinged foot in his hands, he pressed a kiss inside her ankle, then nibbled his way up to her knee.

She was shaking by the time his lips reached her thighs.

She reached down, scraping a teasing finger over the hard length straining against his zipper.

He gave a growl, and took her lips in a wild, open-mouthed kiss. The next thing she knew they were both naked and pressed against each other. Mari wrapped her legs around his waist, ready and willing to start dancing. But he apparently had other ideas.

Declan changed gears from fast to slow, taking her from warm to hot with a single kiss. His tongue traced her lips so sweetly. His hands caressed a tingling path over her body, swirling, teasing. Her heart pounded; damp heat pooled between her thighs. She ground herself against him, needing more. Needing him. It was like an inferno burning low in her belly.

The sane part of her brain was freaking out. They were naked in the garage, for crying out loud. On a bench where she now had tinsel stuck to her ass. This was Declan, the baddest of the bad boys who was only in town for a short time.

Her heart didn’t care, though. This was Declan. Her first crush. The guy whose name she’d doodled in her notebook. Who’d given her a ride so she wouldn’t get in trouble. Who made her feel like the prettiest, smartest, most desirable woman on earth.

And her body? The only thing her body cared about was the pleasure he was creating. This was Declan. The guy who’d given her the best kiss of her life, and was obviously about to give her the best orgasm she’d ever had.

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmured against her lips.

“You’re right,” she agreed with a sigh. “Make me stop.”

Accepting her challenge with a quick grin, he kissed her again. His fingers danced down her body, wicked and talented as they slipped into her damp core and swirled away the last of her thoughts.

The heat flamed hotter, flared higher as he kissed her throat. Mari shivered. She pressed her hands to his chest, combing through the soft sprinkling of hair that trailed between his pecs and over his belly. Her fingers circled his belly button before tiptoeing lower.

He moaned against her breast when she wrapped her hand around him.

He bent to grab his jeans and retrieve his wallet. A heartbeat later and he was back, sheathed and throbbing against her body. Mari wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer, welcoming his hard length with a soft moan.

They rocked together, taking each other higher with each press of their lips, each caress of their hands. Without warning, everything spun out of control. Declan’s thrusts sped up. Her heart raced. Whimpers turned to groans as Mari’s head fell back against the wall and passion exploded behind her eyes.

Declan was right, she thought. Being naughty did feel nice.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WHO knew a night could go so fast, yet every single second could be indelibly imprinted on his memory. Declan couldn’t recall ever waking up as happy as he had that morning, wrapped around the purring pleasure of Mari’s body.

After their tryst on the workbench, he and Mari had gone to his house for round two. Then three, four and five. He’d fallen asleep thinking that life was pretty damned good.

Now, a week later, he breathed deep the scents of hot coffee, cinnamon rolls and Mari filling his truck cab. All his favorite smells, he realized with an unfamiliar feeling of contentment.

“I told you the holiday committee would welcome your help,” she reminded him from the passenger seat. “Did you see how fast they jumped at your offer? If Mrs. Ramsey had her way, she’d have you rebuild the entire gazebo. Probably because she likes looking at your butt.”

Declan’s shocked laugh ended with a wince. He still couldn’t believe he’d let her talk him into stopping by holiday headquarters, otherwise known as the town hall, to offer a helping hand.

The only downside was that she’d spent the whole time pretending they were just friends, instead of a couple who’d spent the last several nights making each other sing the Hallelujah Chorus. But hey, she was trying to polish up her shiny rep. To make her mom proud and to build up a clientele. He got it.

And since it was partially his fault she had to do all that polishing, he should get over his irritation. Easier said than done.

“No more helping if you’re going to comment on old ladies ogling my ass,” he warned with a teasing smile.

“Well, it is a very nice ass,” she said with a wink. “And everyone was thrilled to have you join in.”

“Not everyone,” he remembered. There had been a few guys he remembered from high school who’d protested him pitching in. A couple others who’d held back, avoiding him as if contact could lose them their spot on Santa’s good boys’ list.

“What, you wanted universal love?” she teased, reaching over and curling her fingers around his.

No, he thought, turning his hand to hold hers. Mari’s was enough.

But then terror filled him—had he just admitted that he was falling in love with her? No. This wasn’t love. This was deep, heavy, intense … like with a whole lot of great sex. Not the L word.

Wondering if he was flat-out lying to himself or just delusional, Declan parked in front of his uncle’s house and gave the almost-completed display a careful inspection through the window. It wasn’t until the tension melted from his shoulders that he realized how concerned he’d been that someone would trash the decorations while he was off playing Good Samaritan. Or worse, while he’d been having yet another mind-blowing night with Mari.

It seemed Uncle Eric had been right. It was just some random vandal. Nothing personal.

Then Mari gave a gasping cry, throwing open the passenger door and flying from the truck. He jumped out, following her horrified gaze.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

He hurried around the truck to wrap his arms around Mari, holding her tight as they took in the kicked-in gift boxes, broken candy canes and dangling strands of busted Christmas lights that had once been her holiday display.

Fury pounded through Declan, way beyond what he’d felt when the vandalism had been aimed at him. It’d been one thing to take him on.

But now? Now someone was going to pay. And pay big.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE tears burning her eyes pissed off Mari almost as much as the destruction of the holiday display. She bent over, gathering pieces of the kicked-in box that’d once had two stuffed turtledoves dancing over the bow and looked around. One of the doves was hanging from a tree limb. The other was nowhere to be seen.

She knew Declan was behind her. She heard him gathering broken candy canes and bits of paper that’d been ripped from the dozen gift boxes under the tree. But she couldn’t face him yet. Now she understood how he’d felt. Like someone had punched her in the gut then kicked Christmas-cookie crumbs in her face.

“Mari,” her mom said, hurrying down the stairs with a trash bag in one hand, a headless elf in the other. “I was hoping to get this cleaned up before you got back.”

Leave it to her mom to have it all under control. Despite the mess in the yard and the anger still churning in her stomach, Mari relaxed when her mom gave her a hug.

Then, with another quick squeeze, Marsha Madison set her daughter aside and stepped around to face Declan. Mari’s jaw clenched and she reached out to grab her mother’s arm, but she was too late. When she’d left a note saying she wouldn’t be home until morning, she hadn’t said who she was with. Not because she was ashamed of Declan, but because she’d figured easing her mom into the idea of rumor becoming reality shouldn’t be done by a note stuck to the fridge with a “Kiss the Cook” magnet.

Declan looked like he knew he was about to be gunned down and, from the stoic expression on his face, was willing to take it.

“Mom—”

“Declan Cole,” her mother said, ignoring Mari’s entreaty. “I’m so glad you’re here. I heard whoever did this ruined your display first. You poor thing, you deserve a much better welcome home.”

Engulfed in Marsha’s motherly hug, Declan shot Mari a confused glance. She just shrugged. Hey, if her mom wanted to accept him with open arms, who was she to question it? Instead, Mari wrapped her arms around her waist, tightly hugging the warm feeling in her heart at the sight of the two people she loved best playing so nice.

“Mrs. Madison …” Obviously at a loss, Dec’s words trailed off. Mari didn’t know if it was being called a “poor thing” that had him stumped or if it was the loving welcome of her mother’s hug.

“Well, now that you’re here, you can both come to the meeting with me,” Marsha said, handing Mari the trash bag and heading back up the porch steps. “I’ll get the cookies.”

As she held open the bag so he could dump in his armload of destroyed decorations, Mari exchanged a puzzled look with Declan.

“What meeting?” she asked.

“Amanda and Eric are coming over for cocoa and gingerbread. We’re going to figure out who’s behind these nasty pranks and put an end to them. We’ve all invested too much in this contest to let some bully keep us from the prize.”

Mari eyed Declan as he obediently followed her mother and wondered if she could keep her prize even if they didn’t win. Because she was growing seriously attached to him.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

STANDING at the back of the town hall while the mayor extolled the virtues of the various holiday displays, Declan eyed the townspeople suspiciously. After the destruction at the Madisons’, the vandalism had stopped. But even putting their heads together, the Madisons and the Coles hadn’t found a clue as to who was behind it.

He wished the mayor would hurry up and announce the winner so this could all be over.

Except he had no idea where the private bet between him and Mari stood. He’d already had—and given—the pleasure of making their rumor a reality. No matter the contest results, he’d already won. But if he lost, he knew Mari would make him go on stage and make that stupid declaration.

He didn’t mind, but he sure wished she’d stop letting other people’s opinions matter so much.

He glanced at her, adorably bundled up and standing a circumspect distance away. He wanted to claim her as his own. Here, now, in front of everyone.

He edged closer to her. “What d’ya say we renegotiate that bet?” he whispered into her ear.

Her naughty look made him way too hot for a public gathering. “Didn’t you already get what you wanted?”

“Not quite yet. How about if you win, the deal’s the same. But if I win, you get up there and announce that we’re a couple.”

Her eyes rounded. Was that horror in her blue depths? Declan’s grin faded.

Before he could say anything, though, the mayor called for attention.

“Now to announce the winner of the decorating contest.”

The room fell silent.

“This year we have a tie. The Cole and Madison families!”

Declan laughed. Declan’s aunt and uncle whooped, hugging Mari’s mom.

Noise filled the room. But not everyone was bitching. Quite a few people came over to offer their congratulations. Some shot them knowing looks as they congratulated Marsha, Eric and Amanda.

Either excited or trying to apologize for the hurt she’d seen on his face, Mari gave him a tight hug.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. His eyes met Sylvie’s across the room. He blinked at the furious jealousy in the redhead’s gaze.

Realization hit. He slipped his arm from Mari. Sylvie must have read the intent on his face, because she whispered to the woman next to her then scurried toward the door.

He followed, catching up with her before she could leave the hall.

“Finally realized what you were missing?” she teased when he grabbed her arm.

“You trashed our displays,” Declan accused.

“Why would I waste my time?” she said, not bothering to lower her voice. People started staring.

“You said it yourself,” Declan told her. “You always win. But this year you were afraid it was the end of always.”

“Like I care about some little contest? I’m having more fun watching you ruin Miss Perfect’s reputation again.”

The way she said that made Declan narrow his eyes. “Again?”

Mari joined him. He could feel the fury trembling through her as she pressed against him. “Are you the one who started that nasty rumor years ago?”

“All I had to do was say I saw you plastered against stud-boy, here, and the rest was history.” Sylvie sneered. “You should have learned that no good ever comes of being involved with Declan Cole. He’s trouble. He always has been. He destroyed your reputation in high school and if you stick with him, he’ll do it again.”

Declan’s fists clenched as Mari shook her head, but he saw her hesitation. He knew the words were hitting home.

“And it’s not as if he’s going to stick around,” Sylvie continued. “He’ll be gone by New Year’s. Even if he isn’t, he’s gonna end up just like his daddy. Everyone knows that.” She arched a brow, meeting Declan’s eyes. “So why would I bother sabotaging anything? All I have to do is wait around and you’ll ruin everything all by yourself.”