“Be careful going home. And stay out of the storm!” Mom called after him, then turned to Bella. “I’m going to finish those potatoes and get them on the stove.”
Spencer pushed the towel up to his hair, dragging off the snow laden knit cap on his head with a regretful smile. “Guess this wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.” When he spoke, his words were tight, as if his jaw had frozen. Or maybe he was working hard to keep his voice from trembling with the cold.
“What idea is that?” Fighting hard not to read too much into his presence, she reached for another towel.
He waited until she faced him again before he spoke, then, eyes doubtful, he rasped, “The idea that I had to be with you tonight. That no matter what, I couldn’t live through Christmas Eve without you by my side.”
Stunned by his words, she stared at him for a full minute before folding the towel lengthwise. His gaze kindled. As she stood on tiptoe to fit the towel around his neck, he slid his arms around her and, ignoring his frozen, wet clothes, he pulled her to him.
Something inside her eased as his mouth closed over hers.
“How are things—” Her mother caught her breath in surprise.
Not the least embarrassed, Bella slipped from his arms and turned to face Mom. Water dripped from her chin, but rather than wipe it off, she caught his hand. “Mom? This is Spencer.”
“I guess you know him then.” Mom’s voice was dry, filled with humor.
“Yeah. I’ve met him before.” Bella didn’t try to hide the grin pulling at her lips. Why bother? Mom would figure it out soon if she hadn’t already.
“Well, let’s get him inside before he refreezes.”
Bella tugged him in the door, but he resisted long enough to pull off his boots. In the kitchen she helped him remove his outer layer of clothing—coat, mittens and insulated coveralls—before she took him into the living room to let him warm by the fire.
Surprise filled Jazzy’s face. “Spence. Where did you come from?” Her gaze flew to the empty doorway behind them.
“I decided to drop in on a whim.” His brow puckered in a frown. “Sorry. I’m alone.”
He removed another two or three layers until he stood near the fire in a snuggly pair of long underwear.
Bella picked up one pair of jeans to spread them by the fire. “You look as if you were prepared for the Iditarod.”
Spencer snorted then nodded. “I wasn’t sure how close I could get before I’d have to walk. Had to be prepared.”
“I believe you.” Feeling something in the pocket, she pulled a small, gift wrapped box out of the pocket and handed it to him.
Giving her a half smile, he laid it on the mantel. “To be truthful, nothing could have prepared me for this.”
Bella had the feeling he wasn’t talking about the weather.
“Doesn’t surprise me.” Jazzy picked up a piece of firewood, but Spencer took it from her and tossed it on the fire. “Few people are.”
Mom and Dad came into the living room from the kitchen. Mom introduced Spencer to Dad then said, “I have an idea. Let’s move the dining room table in here, in front of the fire, so we can stay warm while we eat.”
“Okay, darlin’.” Dad glanced their way. “If you girls can get the chairs Spencer and I will get the table.”
Jazzy nodded and went to work, but Spencer caught Bella’s hand before she moved away. It was just a touch, a stroke of his palm against hers, but it warmed her entire body.
Hating to move away from him, she went in to help with the heavy chairs. When they’d put them in the living room, Dad and Spencer hefted the table and walked with half steps as they carried its enormous weight to the area in front of the fire.
“There!” Dad expelled the word on his pent up breath. “Now, Jazzy, why don’t you come with me and we’ll find out what your mom wants us to use to set this table?”
Bella turned to Spencer, but instead of focusing on her, he reached for the tiny box he’d set on the mantel.
Chapter Thirteen
She forced her hunger for him aside. “What’s that?”
“Gift.” His sexy half smile sent her brain spiraling until she had to concentrate to remember what she’d asked.
“Oh.” Lame answer.
Is it for me?
she wanted to ask, but her tongue would only form the words
hold me
, and no way she would beg for that.
He walked around the table to place the gift in the higher branches of the tree as if it were an ornament. When he was sure it wasn’t going to fall, he moved back to her side and took her in his arms. Finally. She snuggled against him, the perfect fit—as if he’d been created with her in mind.
As naturally as a flower turns toward the sun, he covered her mouth with his. He stroked her tongue, taking the kiss deeper until her knees lost their strength, and if her parents hadn’t been in the next room, preparing to come in at any minute, she’d have pulled him to the floor.
Just as they’d done in his house the last time they were together.
She thought longingly of the bedrooms upstairs. Unhappily, there were no fireplaces in those bedrooms. In fact, there was no heat up there at all, which meant they had to sleep under several layers of quilts anytime they were there during the winter. Not exactly conducive to wild lovemaking, but it wasn’t impossible either.
Much too soon, Dad and Jazzy came back into the room. Feeling as if she were losing a vital part of herself when Spencer broke their kiss, Bella stepped away from him. But she couldn’t go far.
Jazzy spread out the tablecloth she carried, then demanded Bella help her straighten it. While Dad set down the family heirloom china, Jazzy went back for the good silverware.
Bella gritted her teeth as she watched her twin move around the table, to the kitchen and back, in an unusual show of home keeping. She was practically bustling.
When she’d done everything she could to look like Martha Stewart, even carry in the side dishes and light white tapers she’d placed in pewter candlesticks with a long match, Jazzy dazzled them with a smile. “Looks like we’re ready.”
“Great.” Dad reached for the light switch and turned them off. “All right, honey. Bring it in.”
Apparently, Mom had accepted the fact that they had no choice about a visitor for Christmas, and made her annual dramatic entrance, carrying a crown roast filled with stuffing on a huge silver platter. After pausing in the doorway, she swept to the table and set it in the center between softly glowing candles.
Dad opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass for each of them, and with a glance out the window said, “None of you were planning to drive later. Right?”
Spencer gave a bark of laughter, but Jazzy and Mom just chuckled softly at Dad’s annual joke.
As everyone started eating, Jazzy glanced across the table at Spencer. “So…why are you here?”
Unable to believe her sister would ask such a rude question, Bella couldn’t find the words to admonish her. Heads together, Mom and Dad talked softly, missing Jazzy’s missile.
Spencer set his glass down and gave Jazzy an easy smile. “I couldn’t get through Christmas without being with Bella.”
“You sure made it through the last—how long?—without seeing her.” Jazzy took a long drink of her wine. “And you didn’t seem to be suffering much when I saw you yesterday.”
He blew out a soft sigh. “I was with Karla, my godparents’ daughter. She was helping me with…a Christmas gift.”
Surprise flashed in Jazzy’s eyes. She lifted one eyebrow then glanced at Bella before stabbing him with her gaze again. “Really?”
“Really.” He tipped his head toward the tree. “It’s in the upper branches.”
Finally one corner of Jazzy’s mouth tipped up. “Score.” Then she leaned back in her chair, a full smile spreading across her face.
Can you believe this guy?
she whispered to Bella in her mind.
According to Doc, he spent all of last week and part of the one before working to secure new leases for their oil company. Missed several holiday parties, too. And now he’s driven all this way to be with you.
If he’d waited only a couple of days, you’d have been back in Dallas. Easy access.
Putting her fingers on her temples, she massaged the ache their twin speak caused.
Maybe he didn’t want to wait.
A smug look curved Jazzy’s lips and brightened her eyes.
Any idea why?
No. But I’m glad he’s here,
Bella answered.
What about that woman he was with? His cousin?
His godparent’s daughter.
Bella lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug.
Who cares who he was with? He’s with me now.
Being with her had to be important to him, didn’t it? The long drive, after the trip he’d just returned from, and impending weather would have been enough to stop most men. But even with his close knit family, Spencer was here with her. The thought thrilled her, sending a buzz jangling along her nerves.
Mom glanced down the table. “Did you park out back, Spencer?”
He shook his head. “No. My car’s out on the county road, somewhere between here and town.”
A frown of concern puckered Mom’s brow. “You
walked
in this weather? Why, that’s dangerous. People freeze to death in temperatures this low. How far did you walk?”
Spencer chuckled. “Far enough to give a snowman frost bite. Luckily I was prepared.”
“You knew you’d be running into weather this bad, and you came anyway?” Shock sharpened Mom’s voice.
Spencer refocused his gaze, settling it on Bella. Summer heat slid down her spine. “I couldn’t make myself stay away.”
****
We were almost finished eating when we lost power. Not that it’s unusual for the electricity to go out at the farm. Any kind of inclement weather can send darkness crashing in on us. That’s why we kept several hurricane lamps and a supply of lamp oil handy.
Luckily, I’d thought to add candles to our holiday table, so we weren’t flailing in the darkness when it happened. Once we were over the initial surprise, we finished eating and started cleaning up—not an easy task without light.
After helping carry in dirty dishes, I started washing with water from the huge kettle Mom kept heating on the stove while Bella and Spencer dried. Mom and Dad put away leftovers and straightened up the living room.
I hated being the only one alone on a holiday like this. I’d never felt so desolate in my life. And watching Bella and Spencer only made it worse. The more I tried not to, the more I missed Doc.
A rogue thought attacked me. If Spencer had come, why hadn’t Doc come with him?
Anger sizzled along my nape while my crippled ego curled in my belly, firing me with energy so I practically scrubbed the pattern off the china. My assigned chore was completed in record time.
While Bella and Spencer messed around, spending more time touching one another when they thought I wasn’t looking than drying dishes, I moved through the kitchen, putting away condiments and candle sticks. Then I stormed to the living room to carry the chairs back where they belonged, and I would have moved the table back, but Dad stopped me. “That’s too heavy for you to lift. Let Spencer and me do it.”
I started to argue. “It’s not too heav—”
“Yes, it is.” Dad’s voice was sharp. A tone I hadn’t heard from him since high school. “Lifting things that are too heavy might keep you from having babies—”
“Mark!” Mom’s shocked yelp stopped his tirade.
Dad stopped practically mid-word, and I was glad he had. No way I wanted to discuss reproduction and whether lifting heavy weights could make a woman sterile—which I firmly doubted, but Dad, undoubtedly believed.
Thankfully, Mom was there to change the subject. “Remember the year we came down for Christmas, and were snowed in for days?”
“Yeah,” Dad answered, a half smile creasing his face. “The girls were just little, and both of your parents were still with us.”
“That was…quite a Christmas.” Mom glanced at me, then at the floor as if by looking at me, she might let the dark family secret escape.
I remembered that Christmas very clearly. Bella and I were nearly three, and the full moon was almost upon us. That was when Grandma Maleva took me aside and taught me about my heritage.
I learned how to control my gift rather than letting it control me. And I’d learned that year just how wonderful being a werewolf could be.
Grandma Maleva and I’d grown closer than any grandmother/granddaughter pair I’ve ever known.
I only wished she were there with us that night. Maybe she could have told me how to expend some of the energy building along my muscles. What I really needed was to go out for a run. But with the snow coming down like it was, Mom would never let me out the door. And if I could get past her, Dad and Bella would be there to block me.
As if I could get into trouble. Who’d ever heard of a wolf freezing to death? Or getting lost in the snow? But trying to convince my family of that was a practice in futility.
I didn’t bother to try.
Still hoping to work off the blistering energy, I carried in several armloads of wood, used some of it to pile the fire high, swept up the wood dust and tossed it in. I went through the French doors, kept closed to encapsulate the living room heat, and up the stairs to my bedroom, built alongside the chimney for a modicum of heat. I quickly found I couldn’t stand being caged there, and jogged back down.