Читать книгу Christmas Wishes & Mistletoe Kisses - Susan Meier - Страница 15

SHE tasted his passion first. Surprised as he had been, he reacted instinctively and naturally fell into the kiss. All his pent-up desires rushed out in one fierce press of his mouth to hers. But as quickly as that registered for Gwen he shifted, changed. As if suddenly realizing he was finally getting what he’d been itching to take, he tempered his passion, and he smoothed his lips over hers gently, experimentally.

She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him back. She glided her hands up his arms to his shoulders. His arms slid around her waist as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

Sweet fire exploded in her veins, rocking her to her core. It took several seconds for the world to right itself, but when it did he twined his tongue with hers and the fire inside her roared with life and energy. No simple kiss had ever affected her as this one did, and when his hands slid up her back, tightening her more snugly against him, she suspected the kiss was as explosive for him as it was for her.

She knew why. They truly liked each other. All along they’d had sexual chemistry, but adding emotion to that chemistry had made them a fiery combination. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to actually make love to him if a kiss could reduce her to a simmering bundle of need.

But before she could take her thoughts any further he released her, stepped back and rubbed his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry! That was great. Plus, I started it. What you did with Brody was fantastic. No woman could resist that.”

Self-conscious, he took another step back. “It was still wrong. And we can’t do that again. You’re so young, Gwen. You have your whole life ahead of you. I’m settled with who I am and what I have, and now I have a sixteen-year-old son to raise. Hell, you’re barely older than he is. I won’t get involved with you.”

With that he strode out of the kitchen, and Gwen fell despondently to one of the chairs around the table. She wasn’t sorry she’d kissed him. But she was sorry about the age gap between them. How could she possibly fight that? Change that? She couldn’t.

With the awkward way Drew treated her over the next few days Gwen was glad she hadn’t started the practice of spending the night—though she had packed pajamas for herself and Claire, just in case the weather was truly too bad for her to drive in.

Drew was careful to be cheerful around Brody, so there was no doubt that he was wanted, but around her he was withdrawn, as if he were afraid that one kind word would cause her to kiss him again. She should have been embarrassed, but she wasn’t. How could she be embarrassed about kissing a man she genuinely liked? Someone she knew liked her, too?

On Tuesday afternoon Drew brought in the Christmas tree he’d promised her, and set it up in the living room without a word. She’d found an old tree stand and he shoved it inside, but couldn’t secure it. Not waiting to be asked, she rushed to help him. When they both reached for the same spot on the tree trunk their hands brushed.

Awareness twinkled from her hand to her heart. Her feelings for him were so strong that her chest swelled with longing. He caught her gaze, glanced at their hands, then slowly moved his fingers higher on the trunk.

This time her chest squeezed with pain. He clearly hadn’t changed his mind. She wanted a relationship. She had kissed him. He’d kissed her back, only to rebuff her. He didn’t want her.

Maybe she should just accept that?

After that, she continued to cook for the Teaberrys, but she stopped eating with them and forgot all about staying overnight.

But on Friday night, when Max and Brody came into the house after their day’s work, Max laughed at the fact that she was in her coat, ready to run out and start her car before she and Claire left for home.

“You might as well sit down and have some of that chicken you made for us,” he said, shrugging out of his coat.

Avoiding even accidentally meeting Drew’s gaze by looking at the floor, she said, “I can’t stay tonight.”

“You’re going to have to.” Brody laughed and pulled out a chair. “Last customer said the mountain road is blowing shut.”

She lifted her head and gaped at Brody. “Blowing shut?”

Max chuckled as he also took a seat at the table. “That wind is fierce! Have you been so busy you haven’t even heard the storm?”

Not busy. Preoccupied with making sure Drew didn’t see how hurt she was by his not wanting her. She glanced down at her baby, happily cooing in the carrier, already dressed in her snowsuit.

Drew walked to the stove. “You take care of Claire. Get her settled for the night. I’ll get the food on the table.”

Appalled that she’d been so nervous all day she hadn’t even noticed the storm moving in, she raced back to her bedroom, tossed Claire’s diaper bag to the bed, shrugged out of her coat and undressed her baby, chastising herself for being an idiot.

Still, when she went back into the kitchen she pretended her staying the night was no big deal, asking Max and Brody about their days, enjoying their company. After dinner she persuaded Brody to help with the dishes, and he happily complied.

When Drew tried to join them she took the stack of cups from his hands. “Why don’t you go back to the office and finish reading the most recent e-mail from Jimmy Lane?”

“Because it’s Friday night and I’d already decided we weren’t going to work.”

She shook her head. “It’s a big deal that he finally got back to you with a serious e-mail countering your last offer. You can’t ignore it. Go. We’ll be fine.”

Then she turned away, faced the sink, and wouldn’t even look back until she was absolutely positive he’d left the room.

After finishing reading the e-mail Gwen had all but demanded he read, Drew walked to the living room, where Max had laid a fire in the marble fireplace. Instead of finding the room empty, as he’d expected, he found Brody and Gwen decorating the Christmas tree. Little Claire sat in her carrier on the sofa.

“Hey, Dad!” Brody said, pointing at a box of ornaments. “Dig in. This tree is huge. We can use all the help we can get.”

“That’s okay, I’ll—”

“Stay,” Gwen said, her gaze drifting over to his before she nudged her head in Brody’s direction, as if telling him his staying would be good for Brody.

He hesitated. She looked cute in a pair of Santa-covered flannel pajamas that matched the one-piece pajamas worn by Claire, whose eyes were glued to the lights twinkling on the tree. Brody had showered, and wore red and green plaid pajama pants and a red T-shirt. With the tree behind them, they could have been the picture on a Christmas card.

He stepped into the room. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

Gwen handed Brody an ornament to hang at the top of the tree. “Haven’t you ever done this before?” she asked jokingly.

But he replied seriously. “I go to my parents for Christmas dinner and spend twelve-hour days at the office. Not much point in having a tree in my condo.”

“Then it’s lucky you’re learning how to decorate one,” Brody said, teasing the way Gwen was. “Because I’ll want a tree.”

“And you’ll want a tree now, too, Drew,” Gwen said, handing Brody a colored ball to hang near the gold star at the top of the tree. She caught Drew’s gaze, sending him another signal by glancing at Brody, then back at him. “Didn’t you tell me that you were going to start delegating more of your work to your vice-presidents, so you could have more time at home?”

“Yes,” Drew answered quickly, glad she’d brought that up because he hadn’t really told Brody that part of the plan.

Not wanting his nervousness to show when he spoke, he grabbed an ornament and walked around the back of the tree, to the side in front of the window, away from both Gwen and Brody, and began decorating there.

“While I’ve been here, I’ve only really worked half-days.” He peered around the tree at Brody. “Not that I’m going to cut my schedule in half now that you’re living with me, but I can see that it would be possible to only work eight-hour days if I delegate.”

Brody said, “All right!”

Drew sighed with relief. “I was also thinking we should get a house.”

Gwen peered over at him. “A house?”

“Yeah.” He avoided her gaze. He’d thought about moving out of the condo and into a real house because of her. She’d made this shabby old house into a home—something he didn’t think his streamlined condo could ever be. And a family needed a house. He and Brody might not be a big family, but they were still a family.

Brody danced for joy. “A beach house?”

Drew cautiously said, “Would you want to live on the beach?”

“Hell, yeah!”

Both Drew and Gwen said, “Don’t say hell.”

Brody laughed. “This is great!” He pulled his cell phone from a pocket in his pajama pants. “I have to text my friends.”

With that he zipped out of the room, and Drew froze. Except for when they worked together at night, this was the first time he’d been alone with Gwen since their kiss, and he absolutely didn’t know what to say. He knew he’d hurt her. He’d hurt himself. Brushing her off after that kiss had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d thought about it for days afterward. Mourned the decision he knew he had to make.

“A house sounds like a good idea.”

“Yeah.” He picked up another ornament for the tree and looped around to the back side, avoiding her. “A condo’s no place for a kid. He’ll need room to roam.”

“On the ocean? Is he going to walk on water?”

Her comment made him laugh. Again. She always knew how to make him laugh. “No, he’ll have miles of beach to walk on.” He sucked in a breath. “I’m probably going to have to get him an ATV. A surfboard. A boogey board. Scuba gear.”

“You’re going to be busy.”

He laughed. “It feels weird.”

“But I’ll bet it’s a good weird.”

It was. “Had you told me two weeks ago that I’d be looking forward to living with Brody I would have thought you were nuts.”

She chuckled. “Haven’t you ever thought about having Brody with you for longer than two weeks?”

Using the tree for protection, he answered honestly. “Yes. Because I was an only child I’d grown up thinking how much fun it would be to have a big family.” He shrugged. “But a few years after Brody was born I settled to just have him with me for one holiday.”

“Why didn’t you try for more?”

“Because I knew Olivia would fight me. I didn’t want Brody to see us fighting or risk losing the scant visitation I had.”

“Sad.”

“Yeah.”

She walked around to his side of the tree. “So why didn’t you find another wife? Have more kids?”

He busied himself hanging a candy cane and didn’t answer.

After a minute or two of silence, Gwen said, “You’re a natural Christmas tree decorator.”

He laughed. “It’s not exactly rocket science.”

“I have some cocoa and cookies on the table if you want some.”

Grateful that she hadn’t pursued her question about another wife and kids, he walked around the other side of the tree, so he didn’t accidentally brush against her. He didn’t know how to answer her. What could he say? He’d been too busy? He had been, but tonight that reason seemed lame.

When he reached down to get a gingerbread man he found himself at eye-level with Claire.

She cooed at him.

His heart melted. It was the first time he’d been this close to her, so he’d never before noticed that her eyes were dark—not green, like her mom’s, but almost black, like Drew’s. Her hair was the same color as her mom’s, though. Shiny, silky blond.

She cooed again.

He set the cookie back on the plate and inched over to her. He gingerly extended his index finger and ran it along the velvety skin of her hand. He couldn’t stop his whispered, “Wow.”

“I know,” Gwen said from behind him. “She’s adorable.”

“And soft.” He cautiously turned his head and caught Gwen’s gaze. “I’d forgotten how soft babies are.”

“It sounds like Brody’s first months of life weren’t easy for you—not something you wanted to remember.”

He sucked in a breath. “No.” And maybe that was why he’d never found another wife? The one he’d had had soured him on marriage. “Those years aren’t something I like to remember.”

She snagged a gingerbread man and eased over to the tree again. Picking up a striped ball, she said, “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you’re not opposed to us trying a relationship because of my age as much as because you’re afraid?”

He spun around. “What?”

“Your first marriage sounds like it was pretty bad. I don’t know your ex-wife, and I could be way off base, but from the way she handled giving you custody of Brody she seems like she might have been—” She sucked in a breath. “Self-centered.”

He laughed at her choice of words. “She was worse than self-centered.”

She waited until he looked over at her before she said, “Not all women are like her.”

The truth of that shimmied through him, because Gwen was the living, breathing evidence of what she’d said. But it didn’t change the fact that she was twelve years younger than he was.

“I get what you’re saying. And I agree. My first marriage was abysmal. But this thing between us is wrong.” He glanced at Claire, then back at Gwen. “How about if we just go back to decorating the tree and forget all about my first marriage?”

She smiled. “Okay.”

He couldn’t believe how easily she’d agreed, but then guessed the conversation had probably been difficult for her, too. They continued decorating the tree in silence. Gwen’s baby cooed as Gwen’s hands busily adjusted the ornaments so they were just perfect. Brody returned to the room and began happily chatting about his friends’ reactions to Brody living at the beach.

And Drew’s heart broke. For the first time in his life he was experiencing a glimpse of the life he’d always wanted. And it was with a woman he couldn’t have.