Romancing the Holiday Page 8

  She stumbled her way into the kitchen and stopped across from him, balancing her hands against the block and hoping this was the right time and right man to trust. “I’m divorced.”

  The word hung there. She waited for the kick of pain to slam into her stomach, for the rush of excuses to fill her brain. Neither happened. Saying the word didn’t scare her this time. For months she let it define her—as a loser, a failure, unpretty and unwanted. Then she spent a few days with Spence and regained her feminine equilibrium.

  “You’re married.” Spence hesitated over each word. His face had also turned an interesting shade of gray.

  “Divorced.”

  “Divorced?”

  He seemed to be having a repetition problem all of a sudden. “Definitely, and it wasn’t one of those pretty no-fault ones. No, mine was a disaster and I’m still recovering financially, which is probably obvious from my lack of a home and near-empty wallet.”

  Spence slowly lowered the spoon to the counter. His hand shook as he went. “Do you want to get back together with this guy?”

  The reaction surprised her. She expected humor, not stunned surprise. “Hell, no. The love died almost from the start. I just fooled myself into thinking otherwise for years.”

  “Why?”

  The topic made the nerve at the base of her neck throb. She debated changing the subject until she took another long look at Spence’s face. His lips flat and his eyes so intense, it was clear her answers meant something to him. Still, talking about her failures and missteps was like having each word ripped from her. Ned knew an outline of the details, her attorney knew more, but the private pieces she hugged close and feared sharing.

  She settled on an abbreviated version of the story, leaving out the betrayal and stealing. “Denial, I guess. I’d lost both of my parents and was desperate to create a family. I thought I’d found that with Stephen until he used our bank account to fund his gambling habit and left me to handle the messy clean-up.”

  “I meant, why go to the hotel.” Spence held onto the edge of the block in a white-knuckle grip. “Were you married when we—”

  He clearly didn’t understand the concept of divorce. “Absolutely not.”

  “I hate the idea of—”

  “The divorce was final and I was free for the first in a long time.” Maybe his weird reaction stemmed from his mother or from the kind of guy he was. She wasn’t sure.

  Spence might like to pretend that he was this tough, no-strings kind of guy, but she’d watched him the last few days. He collected people. He ordered workers around, but he fought fair and took time to talk, to listen to concerns. She’d seen him hand one guy money then shrug it off when the guy tried to say no.

  “You didn’t cheat,” she said, hoping put an end to this question.

  “You mean we didn’t.”

  “Right. I wouldn’t do that.”

  The tension lines around his mouth eased as he grabbed two glasses and set them on the solid surface in front of him. “Good to know.”

  “You believe me?”

  “Are you lying?” With an economy of movement, he worked his way around the kitchen. From the refrigerator and back to the block, he had two bottles of water and a large pot out of the box, along with a block covered with foil.

  She could barely boil water and he walked around the kitchen like he was born there. “No.”

  “So, it’s all clear now.” The water glugged as he poured it into the glasses.

  And here she thought they’d gotten their communication skills back on track. “Want to fill me in?”

  “I was your divorce sex guy.”

  Her gaze flew from his hands back to his face. “Is that a thing?”

  He shrugged as he put a glass in front of her and lifted the other to his lips. “You used me for sex.”

  “Was that ever in question?” As far as she was concerned, that was sort of the point...and mutual.

  He treated her to his second laugh of the evening. “I mean to forget another guy.”

  “Okay, that part’s not true. I was finding myself, not forgetting him.”

  “I’m not sure I know what that means.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” But to her it meant everything. Stephen had destroyed more than their marriage. He took her confidence and shook it like a little kid with a snowglobe.

  Spence’s free hand went to his chest in what had to be the worst version of a poor-me act. “I feel violated.”

  Relief flowed through her from every direction. Whatever worry or anger he had at her admission had morphed back into humor. His acting needed work, but at least she understood this version of Spence.

  “After all this whining, this better be good chili,” she warned.

  “You don’t even feel bad about using me, do you?”

  “No.”

  He scooped a heavy portion of chili into each bowl. “Wow, and women say men are tough.”

  “I was in that hotel room and don’t remember you trying to leave. You seemed pretty excited about the three-day sex romp.” She pulled a bowl toward her. With her hands wrapped around the outside, she savored the warmth and enticing smells of food prepared by someone who could cook. “Did you make this?”

  When she realized the only sound she heard came from the clanking of her spoon against the side of the bowl, she looked up again. He stood frozen, his food untouched.

  “Go back to that sex-romp thing.” He emphasized each word as he spoke.

  “No.”

  “I really think you should.” He slipped around the side of the counter to stand next to her.

  She’d seen this conclusion coming yet raced right toward it. “I’m thinking that wouldn’t be smart.”

  “We’re overdue.” He took the bowl from her limp fingers and put it on the counter before she dropped it. One shift and he had her backed up against the butcher block as he stood between her open legs.

  “I thought we were being neighborly.”

  “Neighbors kiss.” His head dipped in close until his mouth hovered over hers.

  “Spence.”

  Those strong hands landed on her hips. “Tell me it hasn’t been playing in your head, that you haven’t wanted to kiss again and see if it was just the moment and the nice hotel, or if every kiss would be that way.”

  Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and pounded in her chest as if she’d just run a race straight uphill. This close, surrounded by him, touching him, feeling his warm breath blow across her cheek, her heart tumbled.

  “Kiss me.” She whispered the words just before his lips touched hers.

  Then he was there, all around her. His mouth crossed over hers, deep and demanding. This wasn’t a sweet peck. No, the kiss swamped her senses and sent a frying heat straight to her brain. His hands wrapped around her, pulling her tight against him as the oxygen seeped from her body.

  She felt limp and dizzy and exhilarated all at the same time. The taste and scent of him, so familiar yet so incredibly new, zinged through her. Her fingers slipped into his hair as his kisses stole her breath. Tongue, lips, she tasted all of him, reveling in the way his hands sent a shot of heat spiraling through her.

  When he pulled back, her balance faltered but his strong arms were there, holding and supporting her. His thumb traced her mouth as her breathing slowed to normal range.

  He balanced his forehead against hers. “Well?”

  She could barely breathe. “Nothing.”

  “Me either.”

  After steadying her, he let his hands drop and gave her a wink. “We should eat.”

  She nodded but her mind only went in one direction—to him and the absolute assurance whatever they had wasn’t over.

  * * *

  Spence pulled into the open space in the driveway to the cabins early the next morning. Like, early enough that only Travis and one other guy walked the project. Before he could quiet the pounding in his brain, Spence slammed the gearshift into park and sat there fuming.

&nb
sp; He’d left his father’s house tense and on edge last night. Dinner was fine and the kiss spectacular, but leaving her at the door had meant a long night without sleep. The memory of her had him standing under a lukewarm shower until he finally gave in, closed his eyes and fantasized about all he wanted to do with her.

  Finding her gone this morning and not even waiting for him at the diner as he suggested last night before he left his father’s house, sent his already tenuous hold on his control crashing. It was an irrational and overblown reaction, but, damn it, that had been a hell of a kiss. If she was running from him, from what they could do together, he knew his fury would unleash. He’d never hurt her, never trade the job for sex, but that didn’t stop him from being ticked off.

  He stormed up the walkway, his heavy boots stomping on the boards balanced over the mud and small puddles of melted snow. He stopped right behind Travis. “Where is she?”

  The man jumped a good three feet. “What’s wrong with you?”

  A clear-cut case of uncontrolled lust. “I thought you heard me coming.”

  “I thought it was the men clomping around. Didn’t know you’d shown up.” Travis’s eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?”

  “Not lately.”

  “Ah.” He nodded, even smacked his lips together. “I get it.”

  Spence couldn’t handle one more minute of matchmaking without having his temper blow. “Don’t do that.”

  “Sounds like a Lila problem.” Travis rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe you should cool down a second before—”

  Good advice but Spence had no plans to take it. “Probably should but I’m not going to.”

  Travis exhaled, long and loud, and shook his head with a definite you’re-screwed message. “The main cabin.”

  “Thanks.”

  By the time Spence reached the door his unrealistic anger had downshifted into something else. He didn’t want to scare her, but he did want her to know that kiss was no fluke. The tie between them started in that hotel and knotted them together even now.

  After a quick count to ten, he shoved the door open. It only took a second to find her. She stood bundled up in a ski jacket and gloves, trying to paint the inside window trim even though it was cold enough to see her breath.

  With that the last of his frustration fell away. She wasn’t running from him. She was running to this.

  Maybe it was the cheeks stung bright pink by the cool air or the fake fur earmuffs that made her look like some sort of ski bunny. And the way the excitement lit her eyes there was no way he could deny her the right to rush to the project each morning, even if he wanted her somewhere else with him.

  “Spence?”

  “How long have you been here?” The words came out sharper than he intended but she didn’t even flinch.

  She dumped the paintbrush back in the tray by her rain boots. “An hour.”

  Since it wasn’t even seven yet, he found her work ethic more than a little impressive. He and Travis were the early risers at Thomas Nurseries. Mitch would sleep until ten if he could and Austin shoved more work into a nine-to-six workday than any other human on the planet. Already this morning Lila had set up the drop cloth and outlined the window in blue tape, though the finish wasn’t on the walls, so there was nothing she could ruin with a stray splash of off-white.

  Which led to an obvious issue. “I’m not sure we’re ready to paint in here yet.”

  “That’s what Travis said.”

  Spence gave in to temptation. He walked over to stand in front of her, just out of touching range but close enough to reach out if he wanted to...and boy did he want to. “Regardless of the warnings, you thought you’d give it a shot?”

  She shrugged under her oversized coat. “I just wanted to see.”

  Big coat. Tiny T-shirt. Spence didn’t think he could take much more. He ached to get her out of all of it.

  Instead of dwelling on her wardrobe or his plans for later, he went with the need thundering in his brain. “There’s one thing you forgot when you rushed out here this morning.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. “What?”

  The way her hair fell over her shoulders, all smooth and shiny, made him want to run his fingers through it. “This.”

  Through all the layers and despite the tiny O that formed on her mouth as he leaned in, he wasn’t deterred. His mouth met hers and the fireworks sparked as strong as they had the night before. Heat raced through his body and the blood rushed to his erection. He’d take her over any drop of alcohol or drug out there. The taste of her, the feel of her hands against his chest, wiped out every oath he’d ever made about women.

  His mother left. Women moved in and out of his life. Friends lost it over the females in their lives. He didn’t understand any of it. Didn’t understand his feelings for the woman wrapped in his arms or what made her different, because she was and he couldn’t explain how.

  None of that stopped him from deepening the kiss until he knew he had to stop or risk giving his men an unbelievable show. When he pulled back and looked down at her, he saw flushed cheeks and cloudy eyes. Her death grip on his sleeves hadn’t eased even though the kiss ended.

  “What was that for?” Her voice sounded breathy and thin.

  “A reminder.”

  “Of what?”

  Damn, he could not stop wanting her. Touching her only ramped up the need. “Last night’s kiss.”

  “You honestly think I forgot about that?”

  Her smile rocked him. Yeah, this woman wasn’t on the run. That wasn’t the look of a woman trying to hide her feelings.

  “A man needs to make sure.”

  She treated him to a quick kiss that was over before he could join in. “And this woman needs breakfast. Take me to Schmidt’s.”

  By the time he realized what was happening, she’d put three feet of formidable space between them. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to drag me into public because you’re not sure if you can resist me in private.”

  She stepped up and slipped her arm through his, guiding him toward the door. “Did I mention you’re paying?”

  Question answered. “With pleasure.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lila rubbed her hands over her arms as she stared up at the farmhouse two nights later. Spence had been a perfect gentleman. Except for a few stolen kisses he’d kept his hands to himself and ended each night within ten minutes of putting the last clean dinner dish away. Even now the lights on his first floor burned bright. She hadn’t ventured up there, thinking it was his sanctuary and she’d invaded enough of his life, but she knew from the talk around the nursery the bottom floor of the big house consisted of offices and he lived on the floor above.

  Lost in her thoughts, she still heard a whistle right before the crunch of footsteps and had to smile. She recognized the low-pitched sound because Travis spent a good portion of his workday whistling. “You trying to warn me you’re coming?”

  “A smart man doesn’t sneak up on a woman and a worthwhile one does everything he can not to scare ’em.” His voice came out of the shadows.

  “That’s a good life motto.”

  “Heard Spence’s father say it once and it stuck.” Travis stepped onto the porch with his heels thudding on the wood and his broad shoulders blocking her direct view of the farmhouse. “It’s pretty cold to be standing out here in slippers and without a jacket.”

  She glanced at the pink fluffballs covering her feet. They were a gift from Spence that morning after breakfast and just looking at them made her smile. Being reminded she was outside had the opposite effect. A chill rumbled through her as she watched her breath turn to fog on the night air.

  “I just wanted some fresh air.” The excuse sounded lame even to her.

  He leaned against the porch railing and crossed one ankle over the other. “Working outside all day isn’t enough for you?”

  “I guess not.” She noticed the V-neck sweater peeking out under his partway-zippered
jacket and tried to remember if she’d ever seen him in anything other than a sweatshirt or plaid shirt. Looked like she was seeing the back end of date night. “You strike out tonight?”

  He chuckled. “No, ma’am.”

  “Must be nice to be so popular.” She doubted he spent many nights alone, but seeing him before midnight made her wonder if he’d even treated the woman to dinner first.

  Thinking of sex sent her mind spinning right in Spence’s direction. Before she could stop, her gaze traveled to the farmhouse for the briefest of seconds. She realized what she was doing and dragged her focus back just in time to clash with the amusement in Travis’s eyes. Talk about getting busted in the act. “What?”

  Travis glanced at the area in question then back to her again. “He’s working.”

  She balled her hands into fists, even dug her nails into her palms to keep her expression neutral. She wanted to play it cool and not care. Certainly didn’t want to drag Travis into a conversation about his boss’s private life. This wasn’t high school after all.

  Still... “Because of the holidays?”

  Travis shifted around, uncharacteristically fidgety all of a sudden for a guy who had the ability to blend into the background and soak in everything happening around him. “That’s part of it.”

  “What’s the rest?” When Travis shrugged, she lowered her head until he gave her eye contact again. “Tell me.”

  “You should ask him.” He traced a random line on the porch with the toe of his shoe.

  The diverting. The shrugs. The non-answers. It all added up to whack her in the dead center of her chest. “Son of a...it’s me, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The pieces fell like dominoes. Spence, his employees, they showed up each day, dedicated so many hours to getting her business up and running. There had to be blowback somewhere. She wanted to kick her butt for being too stupid to see it.

  “Don’t play innocent. Spence is working now because he’s spending most of his days at the campground with me.” When the night stayed silent except for the soft rustle of wind through the trees outlining the cabin, she refused to let the subject drop. “Travis, talk.”