Blush Duo - Marriage Under the Mistletoe & The Christmas Inn (6 page)

“Do you still enjoy painting?”

She glanced sideways. “In here I do.” She tapped her temple softly. “But in here...” Her hand came to her chest. “I don’t have the feeling in here. And that’s where it really comes from. Creativity is all about heart.”

“And your heart is still broken?”

Evie swayed sideways. The need to be held by his strong arms suddenly overwhelmed her. She’d never ask it. Never show it. But it pierced through her with razor-sharp precision. “My heart is full,” she said quietly. “With my son, my family, this place I’ve been blessed to live in. Plus, I have my students, and teaching gives me great satisfaction.”

He looked at her, meeting her gaze head-on. “There’s a ‘but’ in there, Evie. And there’s no shame in that. If you love to paint, then that’s exactly what you should do. You owe it to yourself to try and find your heart again.”

She felt the sting in his words, although she was certain he hadn’t meant it that way. She knew she was being overly sensitive, but she bit back anyway. “I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand.”

“Why not?” he shot back quickly. “Because you think I’m just a grunt who runs into burning buildings for a living?”

He was stung by her comment, and part of her couldn’t blame him. Her words
had
sounded condescending and she wondered why she’d said them. Normally she was rational and sensible. But she was mad at him for making her explain her thoughts and feelings about her painting. It wasn’t open for discussion. Not ever.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, and pushed herself to move away from him. She grabbed a bundle of paintbrushes, took them to the sink and dropped them into a plastic container. “I don’t talk about
me,
” she admitted, still by the sink and without the courage to turn around and face him. “Not to anyone.”

“Then I guess we’re a lot alike.”

She snapped her neck around and managed a tiny smile. Were they alike? Was that why she sensed an invisible thread of connection between them? And why it felt like way more than physical attraction? She felt something, a kind of link with Scott, but it was hazy, like drifting through fog while listening to the sound of someone’s voice.

“Do you ever envy those people who can express every emotion and feeling they have whenever they’re having it?” she asked. “Sometimes I do. My sister M.J. says whatever she wants regardless of the consequences—and she gets away with it. While my other sister, Grace, is about as uptight and closed off as you can get.”

“And you?”

She shrugged, turned around and rested against the bench top. “I’m somewhere in the middle. Reliable and predictable, following rules, making sure everyone else is taken care of.”

“There’s nothing wrong with following rules, Evie. Or being reliable,” he said, and crossed his arms. “You don’t have to be reckless to lead a fulfilling life.”

Evie stared at him. It seemed a strange thing for him to say. He was a firefighter. He lived his life on the very edge of danger. What would he know about following the rules? Unless she’d completely misjudged him.

“You sound as if you’re talking from experience.”

He lifted his shoulders and dropped them with a heavy breath. “I just know that sometimes being reckless hurts people. Risking everything can be disastrous. Often someone else is left to pick up the pieces, and that’s not a great legacy for anyone to leave behind.”

He was right. And it was exactly why she always lived her life in a sensible, orderly fashion. Sure, there were no risks, but there was also no chance of hurting the people she loved. Strange, but she’d imagined Scott as a risk taker.

“I didn’t think you’d be so...so...”

“So what?” he asked.

“So sensible,” she replied. “Your job, your age, I thought you’d be—”

“I’m twenty-seven,” he said, cutting her off. “Not seventeen. In fact, I’ll be twenty-eight in a couple of months. As for my job, sure, it can be dangerous—but so can working on a high-rise or driving a truck. I haven’t any illusions and I don’t take the potential dangers of my job lightly. And I certainly wouldn’t expect anyone...” He stopped, looked at her and twisted his mouth for a moment. “I wouldn’t expect anyone...
any woman
to wait around for that late-night call saying I’d been injured, or worse.”

Her chest tightened. She knew that call. She’d experienced it firsthand. “Is that why your last relationship didn’t work out?”

“We worked together, lived together—I couldn’t treat her like the rest of the crew. I wanted to keep her safe. She put up with twelve months of what she called my outdated macho crap and left.”

Evie had always secretly liked that outdated macho crap. “And you won’t get seriously involved with anyone while you’re a firefighter?”

He shrugged. “No.”

Part of her was acutely disappointed—the other was impressed by his integrity and she admired his principles. A niggling thought suddenly attached itself to the back corner of her mind.
If only Gordon had thought like that. I wouldn’t be a widow—my son would still have his father.

“You might fall in love?”

His blue eyes seared into hers. “I might.”

“And if you do?”

He shrugged again. “No point worrying about something that hasn’t happened.”

Evie read between the lines. So there was no middle road. He was a man with strong convictions, and her admiration spiked. She was like that, too. She’d made a commitment to raise her son and be the best mother she could be after Gordon had died. All her energy, all her love had gone into her parenting. The good daughter, the good mother, the good widow.

And now Scott had walked into her life and she felt like abandoning every single of one of her principles and allowing herself to get swept up in his arms. Evie had never experienced anything quite like it before. Certainly she’d had desire for Gordon and enjoyed making love with him. But this feeling...this low-down-in-her-belly kind of slowly building craving was suddenly all she could think about. All she could want.

“I have to go,” she said. So quietly she wasn’t sure he heard her.

But he had. He grasped her arm as she made a move to leave. “Don’t run away.”

Evie’s breath caught in her throat. “I have to,” she whispered.

“You act like I’m some sort of threat to you,” he said, and rubbed the underside of her arm with his fingers. “I’m not. At least, not intentionally.”

“That’s not it. I’m a threat to myself,” she admitted, hypnotized by his gentle caress. “I’m feeling so... I’m not sure what exactly. But I know I shouldn’t be feeling whatever it is. Maybe that doesn’t make sense—I don’t know. I only know that you’ll be gone in three weeks and I’ll still be here. And I have to make sure I’ll be here with myself and with my life intact.”

His touch continued to hold her captive. “I have no intention of taking advantage of you, Evie,” he said softly, his voice as seductive as the soft stroke of his fingertips. “And if you feel like you’ve been suddenly hit by a freight train—well, frankly, so do I.”

She looked up. He wanted to kiss her...and Evie wanted it, too. She willed herself not to feel such a longing, to look at him and not see a man she desired more than she’d imagined possible. But her body was in control. Her body was calling all the shots.

Her breasts felt heavy, as if they knew she wanted him. Still, he only touched her arm, gently rubbing the soft skin. But it was enough. Her nipples peaked, tightening so much she knew they were clearly visible through the thin cotton of her T-shirt and lace-cup bra. Her belly dipped and rolled on a wave of desire so strong she wondered if her legs might give way.

“I can’t...I want to...but I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m an ordinary woman and I lead an ordinary life... Don’t ask me to be something other than who and what I am.”

Scott’s fingers stilled. “I wouldn’t. I won’t. I get you, Evie,” he said as he released her. “I get the way you live your life—I get that you had to do whatever it took to work your way through losing your husband. I understand why you always do the right thing, the sensible thing. And because you’re right—I am only here for three weeks and the two of us getting involved would not be sensible. It might be incredible...it might be mind-blowing. But it wouldn’t be
sensible.
”

He stepped back and put space between them. Then he stepped away and grabbed his helmet and keys. When he reached the door he stopped and half turned. “And, Evie—there’s
nothing
ordinary about you,” Scott said quietly.

Once he’d gone through the door, Evie’s shaky legs found a chair and she slumped back with a heavy breath. Scott Jones was one heck of a nice guy
. And I’m falling for him hook, line and sinker.

Chapter Six

O
n Saturday morning Evie headed into town and shopped at her favorite organic grocery store. When she got home Scott’s motorcycle was notably absent and she experienced a mix of emotions. He’d gone for an early run that morning and they’d barely crossed paths over breakfast. She attended to her guests during lunch and, after catching up on a few domestic chores, spent the afternoon in her studio.

By the time she’d showered and changed her clothes, it was nearly five o’clock. She heard Scott’s motorcycle return and then the sound of feet on the stairwell followed by a couple of doors opening and closing and the distinct hiss of the shower in the guest bathroom.

She walked into the kitchenette and saw her son. “Are you getting ready soon?”

He half frowned from his spot near the sink. “I wish I could stay home.”

“No chance. Your grandparents are expecting you.”

Trevor’s lanky shoulders popped up and down. “It was just a thought.”

“And I
thought
you liked your grandparents?” she suggested quietly, smiling.

He grinned. “You know I do. But there are basketball tryouts coming up before the school terms out and I figured I should practice if I want to make the team for next year.”

A team? And sports? She planted her hands on her hips. “Okay...where’s my son and what have you done with him?”

Trevor laughed. “It’s still me. I just thought I might try out, that’s all... You know, get outdoors for a while.”

Her smart, computer geek son certainly surprised her. “I think...I think it’s a great plan.”

He shrugged, looking embarrassed all of a sudden. “Yeah, well, it was just an idea. I probably won’t make the cut. You know I suck at sports. But Scott said he’d help.”

Scott...

Of course. Her fatherless son would think Scott Jones hung the moon.

She ached inside thinking about it. “You’re a shoe-in, I’m sure. Now go and get dressed. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

He dragged his feet as he left, and Scott came into the room a couple of minutes later. Evie pretended to busy herself by mopping up a nonexistent spill on the draining board. The air between them was thick. Stupid, she thought, to have tension when there were no words said and barely any eye contact. Evie slanted a look in his direction while she folded a tea towel. He looked so good in dark olive chinos and pressed white shirt. Too good. Everything about him oozed sex—the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way his hair flicked across his forehead.

“What time are we expected?” he asked.

She collected her thoughts. “Around six,” she replied. They were going to her parents’ house for a barbecue and Evie liked that he’d dressed up a bit. He looked older somehow. And then she felt absurd for daring to admit such a thing mattered to her.
I shouldn’t be thinking that.
They weren’t dating, they weren’t anything really. Barely acquaintances who would soon be related only because of a marriage between their siblings.
One incredible kiss doesn’t make a relationship.

“Trevor was telling me how you’re helping him to get on the basketball team.”

He glanced at her and shrugged. “Just giving him a few tips.”

“You were a jock in high school, right?” she asked directly. “And good at everything?”

Scott looked at her oddly. She wished she knew him better. Wished she could figure out what he was thinking behind those glittering blue eyes.

When he didn’t respond she continued. “It’s just that Trevor isn’t usually a...sporty sort of teenager. He’s more at home with his video games or computer. But I understand why he’d want to spend time with you.”

He didn’t move. “You do?”

“Sure. I mean...he doesn’t get a lot of adult male company. Other than Noah and my dad. And you’re so...so...”

“So?”

She ignored his question. Ignored the way her heart pounded like a jackhammer. And she stuck to her point. “I don’t expect you to entertain my son while you’re here, that’s all.”

He swayed fractionally on his heels, and a semismile tucked at the corner of his mouth. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know that.”

“So I don’t mind helping him out.”

What if I don’t want my son getting attached to you?

Thankfully Trevor loped through the doorway and announced he was ready to go. Her son wore the clothes she’d put out on his bed and had managed to tame his unruly hair with what looked like a bucket of hair gel. Evie grabbed her tote, ran her hands down the front of her pale green dress and grabbed the car keys from the table.

Once they were outside she held out the keys toward Scott. “Why don’t you drive? I’ll sit in the back,” she explained. “You’ve both got longer legs than me.” She pointed to her son’s lanky pins but refused to ogle Scott. “So let’s go. I’ll give directions.”

The drive to her parents’ sprawling double-story home took only minutes. Scott was out before her and quickly opened the back door. He took her hand to steady her as she got out, and Evie felt the electricity coursing between them as their fingers connected. She caught her breath as a rush of blood raced across her skin. He saw it though, and even if he hadn’t Evie was certain he could have felt the heat from it. And he didn’t release her, at least not straightaway. And Evie didn’t pull away, either. She remembered the vow she’d made to keep him at a distance, to not get involved, and all her resolutions disappeared. He was simply holding her hand, and all Evie could think about was how much she didn’t want him to let her go. Not ever.

Trevor said something and Scott dropped his hand and closed the passenger door while Evie made a quick escape around to the other side of the car. She made it into the house in record time and didn’t wait for either Scott or her son, figuring they could find their own way to the back patio. For now, Evie simply wanted to get away.

Her mother, Barbara, was in the kitchen and she headed straight for her and hung on to a hug a little longer than normal. She apologized for not helping with the cooking, and her mother quickly brushed off her concerns and told her that Grace, who’d arrived from New York a few days earlier, had helped her prepare the food for the thirty or so guests expected to arrive within the next half hour. Evie immediately began decorating a cheesecake.

“Have you spoken to your sister recently?” her mother asked, passing Evie an apron.

“Not since the day she arrived home. Why?”

Barbara shrugged. “She doesn’t seem herself.”

She’s not the only one.
“I’ll talk to her,” she assured her mother, and got the chance about five minutes later when her sister entered the room.

It was hard not to notice when Grace Preston entered a room—because she was simply stunning. Beautiful in a classic, old movie star kind of way. Beside her, Evie spent most of her time feeling about as plain as an old shoe. In designer jeans, three-inch heels Evie knew would have cost the earth and a red blouse that looked as though it wouldn’t dare crease because Grace simply wouldn’t allow it, her sister was a picture of elegance. No one pulled off wearing jeans like Grace. Four years younger than Evie, she worked for a large brokerage house in New York and had arrived in Crystal Point a few days earlier. She was successful, well educated and to those who didn’t know her, about as warm as an Arctic winter. But Evie knew her and loved her and had always been able to get past her sister’s cool reserve.

“This is the first time you’ve been home for Christmas in a while,” Evie said once their mother had left the kitchen.

“I promised Noah I’d be here for the wedding. And the office closes down over Christmas,” Grace explained.

Evie nodded. “Will you be back for Dad’s party?” she asked, thinking about their father’s sixty-fifth birthday coming up in a few months.

“I’ll do my best,” Grace replied.

Evie began her task of piping cream onto the cheesecake. “Is anything wrong, Gracie?”

Grace looked at her. “Not at all.”

“Work’s okay?”

She shrugged again, but Evie wasn’t fooled. “The same.”

“And Erik?” she asked of her sister’s lawyer boyfriend.

“Gone,” Grace replied. “Months ago.”

Typical that her sister hadn’t mentioned it. “Bad breakup?”

“Not especially. What about you?” Grace asked, raising both her immaculate brows. “Are
you
okay?”

Evie stopped her task. “Of course. You know me,” she said with a small laugh. She put down the piping bag. “Why do you ask?”

“M.J. mentioned something,” Grace replied. “About Callie’s b—”

“Not you, too,” Evie groaned, cutting off her sister’s words. “It’s nothing. There’s nothing going on. Nothing at all. Absolutely nothing.”

“So it’s
nothing?
” Grace asked with a wry smile. “Despite his obvious attributes?”

Evie colored hotly. “You met him, then?”

Grace nodded. “Noah introduced me. He seems...nice.”

Evie managed a smile. Her sister didn’t hand out compliments often. “My son thinks so, too.”

It sounded snippy and sour put like that and she was instantly ashamed of herself.

Grace didn’t let up, either. “But you don’t?”

Evie made a face. “Well, of course I think he’s...” She stopped and her voice trailed off. She quickly took a breath and tried again. “Okay, he’s...
fine,
obviously,” she admitted. “And that’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“Who’s fine?”

They both turned their heads at the sound of Callie’s voice. Her husky lilt echoed across the tiled floor, and Evie wished that same floor would open up and swallow her whole. “Um—no one. So, how’s the party going out there?”

Callie made a face as she moved into the kitchen. “A few of the men have gone to the games room for a game of pool,” she said, and rolled her eyes. “And you know how competitive Noah and Cameron are—they turn it into a blood sport. Although I told Scott to go easy on them because they’re poor losers.”

Evie’s interest spiked. “He plays well?”

“My brother is one of those infuriating people who are good at everything.”

Evie’s insides crunched. Hadn’t she said that to Scott only an hour earlier when they’d been discussing Trevor? She stole a look at Grace, and her sister raised a questioning brow before Evie turned back to decorating the cheesecake. Grace left the room a few moments later, pleading the need to observe their brother and Cameron get beaten at pool, and Evie watched Callie attempt to fill a piping bag with cream. She took pity on her and took over the task.

“Thanks,” Callie said quietly and stepped back, resting her hips against the countertop. “Evie, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she replied. “Shoot.”

“Are you okay with having my brother at your house?”

Evie stilled, felt her breath get lost in her throat and tried desperately not to show it. “Of course. Why?”

“He said something about maybe moving into a hotel while he’s here.”

Evie’s knees risked failure and she pushed herself against the bench to stay upright. “Oh, really?” She tried to make her voice as light as possible, tried to make out as if Callie’s announcement hadn’t shaken her up. “I can’t think why. Perhaps Crystal Point is a little tame for him.” The words came out, but she wasn’t sure from where.

Callie smiled. “I don’t think Scott’s looking for any kind of excitement while he’s here. In fact, Crystal Point is probably exactly what he needs at the moment. Mike’s death hit him pretty hard and after the inquest he probably should have taken some time out. But typically Scott, he went back to work straightaway.”

Evie registered the other woman’s words. “Mike?” was all she could get out of her mouth.

“They were friends,” Callie explained. “And they worked together. I thought Scott might have told you.” She pushed herself off the bench and crossed her arms. “You’re easy to talk to, Evie—I’d hoped he might have opened up a bit.”

Yes, usually she was easy to talk to. “Well, it’s only been a few days,” she said. “And we haven’t spent a lot of time together.”
Liar.
“Some people aren’t comfortable talking with strangers.”

Callie touched her arm. “You’re not a stranger, Evie. You’re the warmest, most genuine woman I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks,” she said, and tried to steer her thoughts away from Scott, and failed miserably. “Perhaps he’s not ready to talk about it?’

Callie nodded. “Perhaps. You know, the other day, I thought...well, I thought that you and he looked kind of
close.
” Her friend sighed. “I know it’s silly of me. And I don’t know why I thought I had any business thinking about it. I just did.”

“Well, he’s your brother,” Evie said gently, not daring to disclose anything. “And we all get a little protective of our brothers at times.”

“Like you did,” Callie reminded her. “When you asked me how I felt about Noah.”

“That seems like forever ago now.” She grabbed Callie’s hand and touched the bright diamond glittering on her finger. “And look how good it turned out.”

Evie stared at the ring. She’d taken her own wedding band off years ago. But she missed it. She missed the idea of truly belonging to someone, and having that someone belong to her. And she didn’t quite realize how much up until days ago. Up until Scott had entered her life, her world. For years she’d been in a kind of emotional hibernation, safe from wanting anything. Safe from really
feeling
anything.

Her mother returned then and quickly ushered them both from the kitchen. Evie discarded the apron and followed Callie outside. The huge patio was filled with people, and typically her mother was the consummate hostess. Two long tables were covered with starchy white cloths and held trays of canapés and bite-size morsels of food. Evie helped herself to a glass of wine from the bar and mingled for a while.

It didn’t take her long to head for the games room on the other side of the patio. The pool game was in full swing and she found a spot near the door to observe the players. Only, the moment Evie saw Scott leaning against a wall with a pool cue in his hand while he waited for his turn to shoot, he was all she noticed. The room was noisy, but she didn’t hear any of it. It was as if the crowd parted of its own will, urging her to make eye contact with him. He looked back, tilted his head fractionally and almost smiled. Almost, because he stopped himself, she was sure of it. It gave her a strange feeling in her chest and she turned away after a few moments, grateful she was by the door for a quick escape.