Some Kind of Wonderful: A Holiday Novella (The Cupcake Lovers) (8 page)

Scents from the delicious dinner Maya had whipped up lingered and mingled with the smell of pine wafting from a lone candle and the pleasing aroma of burning wood. While she’d cooked, Maya had hummed and sung Christmas songs, an old-fashioned form of entertainment that had moved Zach deeply as he’d toured around Marx’s cabin, acquainting himself with the grump of Franklin County via random pictures and keepsakes.

Marx was an army man. A veteran of Vietnam. And near as Zach could tell, Marx had never married. No evidence of a wife or children, ever. Just photos with a few fellow soldiers and a hunting buddy or two. Marx struck Zach as a loner. A man who dwelled in the past. Was he shackled to the war by personal demons? Mentally and emotionally incapable of letting go and moving on? Had he even tried to fit into civilian life? Zach commiserated and at the same time fought the notion of ending up like this himself. Alone and miserable for life.

Maya’s singing helped to lift his spirits and he suddenly found himself clinging to her goodness and optimism like a lifeline. While they feasted on turkey, soup, and various simple side dishes, she shared several touching stories based on holiday parties she and Giselle had volunteered to cater for local homeless and women’s shelters. Maya spoke casually, as if Cupcakes & Dreamscapes had only played a small role, and focused on the people in need and their heart-tugging stories. But Zach felt the depth of Maya’s and Giselle’s kindness and generosity to the pit of his soul. It certainly shed new light on Giselle and only made Zach love Maya all the more.

Oh yeah. He’d fallen for Maya Templeton in a way that made his mind swim and his heart ache. He was the moon to her sun, the rain to her rainbow. He was the exact opposite of what he wanted for her, yet he didn’t want to miss out on what she offered him. Hope. Happiness.

Even if only for tonight.

“Thank you for helping me clean up,” she said to Zach after they’d cleared away the remaining food and dishes.

“Sure.” He watched as she dried her hands on a ratty dishcloth. Her long hair was still tousled from the wind. Sexy. Even the Santa hat was a turn-on. All she had to do was lose the reindeer sweater and a few more layers and he’d be a goner.

“Have room left for dessert?” she asked.

“Let me guess. Cupcakes?”

She smiled and his heart skipped. “Why don’t we have them in front of the fireplace?” she suggested. “There’s a bottle of red wine, too, although it has a screw cap. How good can it be?”

“Who cares? You get the glasses. I’ll fix us a pallet.” Trying to get in the spirit and wanting to make the evening as festive as possible for Maya’s sake, Zach pulled Marx’s bearskin rug closer to the hearth. He shook out the comforter and blanket he’d brought along, draping them over the furry hide, then nabbed the pillows he’d found on Marx’s bed, shimmying them into fresh pillowcases he’d found in a closet.

“Oh, wow,” Maya said as she joined him, wine bottle and two plastic tumblers in hand.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not high on sleeping in Marx’s bed. It’s cold in that room and it just feels wrong.”

“I agree,” Maya said. “This is great. Sort of like a slumber party.”

Zach noted her bright pink cheeks. Flushed in anticipation of sleeping together? Or because of her close proximity to the crackling hearth? “I’ll pour the wine,” he said, freeing up her hands. “You get the cupcakes.”

Pain shot up his left leg as he lowered himself onto their makeshift bed. Like always he ignored the discomfort. Even when he’d been hospitalized, both legs in traction, he’d never once complained. His injuries were nothing compared to his partner’s loss of life. Zach took a bullet in his right thigh and left shin, and he’d broken multiple bones in both legs in a fierce tumble down the mountainside. He might’ve made a clean escape if he’d left Ben’s body behind, but that hadn’t been an option. Even though Zach had failed to complete that mission, he didn’t regret the effort.

Pushing away dismal memories, Zach shed his boots and poured two tumblers of bargain wine.

Maya sank down beside him, placing a plate of assorted cupcakes on the floor. She kicked off her own boots and swept off the Santa cap, looking more serious than she had all afternoon. “There’s something I want to say.”

“Okay.”

“If I don’t it will fester. I want to get it out there and then we can move on.”

Heart thudding, Zach calmly passed her a tumbler of wine.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, Zach, and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know I’m sorry about Ben.”

Holding her tender gaze was tough, but Zach did it. “I feel like I failed him.”

“Do you think he’d feel that way?”

Zach searched his soul. “No.”

“From what little you told me about Ben, I think he’d be miffed if he knew you were struggling with guilt.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man, Zach.”

“So was Ben.”

“All right then. Rather than mourn his death, why not celebrate his life.” She raised her glass and crooked a tender smile. “To Ben.”

Overwhelmed, Zack tapped his glass to hers. “To Ben.” She and Zach both drank deeply, and even though the wine was bitter, a wisp of sweet serenity flowed through his tortured being. He waited for Maya to press for details regarding the ambush. When she didn’t, his spirits lifted even more. Last night she’d told him she’d be available if he ever wanted to talk about it. At the time, he’d brushed off the offer. Now he tucked it away for the day he was ready.

He picked up the dessert plate and studied six festive cupcakes by the light of the fire. “What do you think we have here, O baking expert?”

She grinned. “Not sure. Let’s taste and see.”

They both took a cupcake and sampled.

Maya chewed and groaned. “
Mmm.
Mine’s maple with a kick of cayenne. Butter crème icing.”

Zach swallowed a mouthful of savory delight. “Chocolate.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’re talking the Cupcake Lovers here. Can’t just be plain ol’ chocolate.” She leaned in. “Gimme a taste.”

Zach fed her, his nads tightening when she licked icing from his fingers.

“Devil’s food,” she said in a husky voice. “With raspberry ganache and milk-chocolate frosting.”

Logs crackled in the hearth, the flames flickering throughout the darkened room and bathing Maya’s beautiful face in a soft, enticing glow.

Zach edged closer, accepting the invitation sparkling in her eyes. Coating his finger in chocolate frosting, he smeared the sticky delight over her lower lip, then savored. “Not marmalade,” he said, slipping her sweater from her shoulders and eyeing her creamy skin, “but it is sweet.”

Chapter Eleven

Maya woke with a start, bolting upright, senses whirling. “What was that?”

“Just a log crackling and shifting in the hearth,” Zach said. He placed a strong hand at the base of her bare back. “You’re safe, honey. Go back to sleep.”

“I don’t know that I can.” She couldn’t believe she’d drifted off in the first place, but she’d been so sated from their lovemaking and the wine, somewhere in the night she’d fallen asleep in Zach’s arms. “What time is it?”

“Not even midnight.”

“I can’t believe that storm’s still at it.” She hugged a blanket to her chest, shivering as the wind howled and the windowpanes rattled. “Ghost Storm is an apt name. It’s downright spooky.”

“It’ll pass.” Zach pulled her back down on the soft pallet. Braced on one elbow, he gazed down into her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Her sleepy pulse tripped. “You mean about what we did?”

“Any regrets?”

Her body hummed in memory of Zach’s sensuous touch. “Only that it ended so soon.”

He frowned. “You weren’t satisfied?”

“I
was,
” she teased. “But that was then and this is now. Call me shallow, but the way those flames are dancing over your hunky body I’m feeling sort of frisky just now. Plus, I could use a distraction.”

“From the storm?”

From my thoughts.
Now that she was awake, her mind churned with the realization that she’d fallen in love, true love, with Zachery Cole. Maybe she’d always loved him, but it hadn’t fully blossomed until they’d made love. She didn’t want tonight to end and yet she knew it would. The question was, what would tomorrow bring? Dare she hope for a Christmas miracle? For a happily ever after with her tortured best friend. “I never knew it could be like that. I mean, it’s not like I’m a virgin, but I’ve never felt that kind of connection. That kind of intense pleasure. I mean I had three orgasms.
Three.
”

He grinned. “I know. I was there.”

“Was it good for you?”

“Never better.”

Maya’s inner thighs tingled when he hovered and soul kissed. Amazing how he could fire her up with mere kisses.

“Maya.”

She blinked up at his handsome face, her stomach fluttering with a thousand butterflies.

“I don’t know about the future, honey. I can’t think beyond now.”

She brushed her fingertips over his worried brow. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out tomorrow. Or the day after.” She could sense his doubts and concerns, and even though she didn’t have all the answers herself, she did at least have faith in their deepening relationship. Something this good, this special, couldn’t be doomed to failure. “I’m thinking you’re the one in need of distraction now.”

Heart full, Maya rolled on top of Zach and rained kisses down his chiseled torso. “Let’s see if I can top
never better
.”

*   *   *

Zach’s eyes flew open, startled by a sound. No. Not a sound. A
presence
. He reached for the handgun he’d hidden nearby. He hadn’t mentioned the weapon to Maya. She wouldn’t approve. But Zach believed in the right to protect. He wouldn’t think twice about defending Maya. Yet when he trained his Glock on the shadowy figure sitting in a nearby chair, Zach’s heart seized. “Ben?”

“Yo, dude. I’ve already been shot once.” He waved off the revolver. “Do you mind?”

Zach lowered his weapon and looked down at Maya. She was fast asleep. He looked back to Ben. Still there. “Am I dreaming?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Dressed in bloodied cammies, Ben motioned to Maya. “She’s something special.”

“How would you know?”

“I’ve been watching.”

“From where?”

Ben pointed up.

Zach licked his lips, raised a brow. “From heaven? What are you now? An angel?”

“A messenger.”

Heart pounding, Zach spared Maya another glance. She hadn’t budged. She didn’t hear them talking? Of course not. Because he had to be freaking dreaming. He looked back to his dead friend. “I’ll bite. What’s the word?”

“Don’t be a wuss.”

Zach laughed. “That’s the message from above?”

“In a nutshell.” Ben leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees and affording Zach a better look at his grease and blood–smeared face.

Zach felt sick and mesmerized at the same time. “Are you going to haunt me, Ben?”

“Nope. This is a onetime visit. I saw you screwing up and begged for this chance. A chance to say thank you and good-bye, and to give you a kick in the ass. Step up to the challenge, Zach. There’s more than one way to make this world a better place. Just ask Maya.”

Sweating now, Zach palmed Maya’s shoulder, hoping to connect with reality.
Oh yeah.
She felt solid and warm, which freaked him out all the more. He’d played along with Ben, thinking he was dreaming, but if he was awake … He glanced back to Ben, but the angel, the ghost, the messenger, whatever … was gone.

Zach fell back on the pallet, temples throbbing.

He closed his eyes, willing his nerves steady. Maybe he’d been hallucinating. Too much cheap wine. A bit of bad chowder. He didn’t believe in ghosts. Dead was dead, right?

He rolled away from Maya, toward the comfort of the fire. He wondered if Marx kept any hard liquor in this cabin. He could sure use a shot. He opened his eyes and found himself face-to-face with his mom.

“Holy hell.”

“Don’t curse in the presence of women, Zachery.”

“Sorry.” His long dead mother was lying on her side, propped up on an elbow. She hadn’t aged in fifteen years, and she was still wearing her waitress uniform. “How can you be here, Mom?”

“You needed me.”

“I’ve needed you lots of times.”

“Not like tonight.” She pushed up a couple of inches and looked over his shoulder. “I always liked Maya.”

Poleaxed by the surreal feeling of being caught between reality and a dream state, Zach flashed back on the holiday movie he’d watched with Maya. He knew Maya thought he was cynical. Had he twisted things in his mind so that he was Scrooge, putting Ben and his mother in the roles of the ghosts of Christmas past and present?

Damn.

“Do you have a message, Mom?” he asked, wanting to hurry this nightmare along but at the same time wanting her to linger.

“I do. But not for you. For Maya. Tell her I said you’ll make beautiful babies.”

“Mom—”

“I love you, Zach,” she said, and then she was gone.

*   *   *

The next time Zach awakened, sunlight was spilling through the cabin windows and Maya was looking down at him with a big, cheery smile. “Merry Christmas, Zach.”

He smiled up at her sweet face, palmed her cheek to make sure she was real. “Merry Christmas, Maya.”

“Storm stopped. At least the wind died down. I’m almost afraid to look outside. There could be six feet of snow out there.”

“I doubt that, although the drifts could be fierce. I’ll check it out.” He brushed a kiss across her mouth, experiencing a moment of pure joy, before pushing to his feet. Though he managed a poker face, his muscles ached and his leg hurt. What bothered him more was the fuzzy feeling in his head. “Remind me to steer clear of that brand of wine in the future.”

“Are you feeling hungover?” she asked as she pulled on her undies and jeans. “You didn’t have that much.”

“Not hungover, but, I don’t know. Disconnected. Groggy. Had a couple of weird dreams.”

“Want to talk about them?”

“They’re sort of fuzzy. Maybe some fresh air will help.” Zach dressed quickly, angling his head when he heard a rattle and a hum.