Last Chance Christmas (10 page)

“Ready?” he asked, wondering if she was going to enlighten him on the conversation.

“Yes.” Distracted by the store goods, she admired a couple of wall displays on the way out. “Sorry to take longer than I thought. There was just so much to see.”

She thanked the cash register dude on her way out as J.C. held the door for her. Outside, it was snowing again, but very lightly, the flakes drifting down like they had all the time in the world. The street lamps were all decked with wreaths and connected by ropes of greenery. Downtown was busier than usual due to the festival weekend as families travelled from all over the state and beyond to get a taste of an old-fashioned Christmas.

“You didn’t end up buying anything?” he asked, heading down the street toward the town square where the Cloud Spin wassailing tradition would be getting underway with spiked punches and hot buttered rum served up by guys dressed like vendors in a Dickens’ story.

“No. I talked the owner’s ear off the whole time.” She pointed to the cart advertising hot cocoa. “Should we get drinks to go before we start decorating in earnest?”

He noticed how quickly she changed the subject. Knew it was purposeful.

“Hold up.” He put a hand on her shoulder to slow her down gently. Guided her to the shelter of a striped shop awning strung with green pine boughs. “I’ve got a question for you first.”

He didn’t miss the hesitation in her eyes. The guardedness.

“Now?” She hugged her coat tighter. “Keep in mind some of us aren’t as fond of cold weather and ice.”

“You’re going to help me decorate. And I appreciate that. But I need to know if you’re going to stay with me through Christmas first before I commit to a winter wonderland at my place.” He’d been in a dark place before she arrived, brooding over the holiday passing and being alone again. He hadn’t realized how much playing hockey had helped him move past the divorce and the mess he’d made of his marriage. But now he didn’t even have his team around him.

Some of her guard slipped. He could see the understanding in her eyes as a strolling musician moved past them, fingering a holiday tune on an accordion.

“I sublet my apartment for the holidays, J.C. So I don’t have anywhere else to go for Christmas unless I ask Warren to take me in.” Her mouth lifted in a half smile. “If you don’t mind me being there, you’d be doing me a favor.”

He tried not to think about the key to her parents’ place that he’d moved to a hook on the key rack in his garage.

“I really want you to stay for Christmas. Hell, I’d like it if you were there to ring in the New Year since I’m not sure when I’ll be cleared to practice with the team again.”

“I don’t know about after Christmas.” She blinked up at him, a snowflake landing on her eyelash for a moment before it fluttered to her cheek. “Can we just enjoy that much?”

Christmas was in four days.

Four days to make peace with Shea, a goal that was probably directly at odds with his other goal—to undress her again as soon as possible.

But playing professional hockey had taught him if he worked his ass off, his dreams were within his reach. Of course, that hadn’t worked for him in his marriage. But Shea had come back into his life because of fate. It was destiny they were going to patch things up and leave town the happier for having seen each other again.

“It’s a deal.” He leaned closer to seal it with a kiss, liking the way her eyes went wide at the idea of a PDA on a busy Cloud Spin street.

“We’d better drink to it,” she suggested, sidling away from him, a movement made less graceful by the crutches. “How about that hot cocoa?”

He didn’t mind waiting to get her alone to kiss her. He’d been thinking about it all day. But as they headed to the last vendor on their Christmas shopping trip, he knew he was probably kidding himself. Shea wasn’t a “no strings attached” kind of person any more than he was.

For four days, however, he’d sure as hell try to be.

‡

S
he’d spent one
day with this man, and already things were getting too serious.

Shea peered up at the moon through the falling snow, loving the way it made the white flakes seem to glow. She’d sensed big time tension from J.C. this afternoon and wondered if she was a crappy friend and houseguest to ignore that in favor of keeping things light. He seemed troubled, and she supposed he had reason to be with the concussion and the enforced time away from a job he loved.

Or was he still missing his ex?

She guessed that this was a rough time of year for him since it marked the one year anniversary of their split. No doubt it must suck to have a relationship fall apart over Christmas.

But she had plenty of trouble of her own right now. And she worried it could be hazardous to her heart to get too emotionally involved at a time when she was struggling to find her equilibrium again. Better to keep things easy. Light. Fun.

Which was why, as he carried in the last of the shopping bags, she reached down to one side of the walk way and gathered up a glove full of snow.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, passing her on his third trip from the car. “I have bags full of glass ornaments here. You’re risking Christmas if you throw that.”

“Am I really?” She packed the snow tighter, squeezing it into the perfect shape and size.

“Santa will put you on the naughty list.” He paused a few feet away and tried to look stern.

“You wish,” she taunted, closing one eye to take aim.

“A concussion is a serious injury.” He backed up a step, moving away from her toward the door to the house. “You wouldn’t want to risk a blow to my head.”

“That leaves a lot of you to aim at.” She arced back and let it fly.

He dropped the bags in the hedges and hit his knees to start scooping up his own snow at the same moment her snowball connected with his right shoulder.

“Way too close to my head!” he shouted as he laughed, balling up his first missile and letting it fly.

“You moved,” she protested, turning away from his shot so it hit the back of her coat. “I was aiming for your knee.”

After a series of volleys, he started coming for her.

“Surrender now,” he urged, “and I’ll go easier on you.”

“Never.” She couldn’t back away and throw her next snowball, so she opted to pelt him in the chest.

“You are so done.” He swooped in to strip her of her crutches and scoop her up in his arms. “Now I’ve got you.”

Her laughter hurt her broken ribs more than he did since he remembered which side to touch.

“Are you seriously going to celebrate taking a hobbled woman as a captive? Isn’t that like shooting fish in a barrel? Or grabbing an empty netter?”

“A goal is a goal.” He charged up the steps and into the house, toeing open the door with his boot. “And a sexy captive is always reason to celebrate.”

“Really, it’s me who should be celebrating.” She pantomimed polishing her nails on the lapel of her jacket.

“Is that so?” He hit a switch on a remote and a fire leapt to life in the gas fireplace in the front room as he stepped out of his boots and left them on the welcome mat to dry.

Shea steadied herself by grabbing the collar of his coat as he moved around, breezing past the kitchen and heading toward a part of the house she hadn’t seen yet.

“Yes. I only started the fight so I could get in that hot tub you mentioned.” She turned to look where they were going. “Is that where you’re taking me?”

“I haven’t decided. It’s either there, or I bring you to my dungeon and discipline you for your wicked ways.”

“You have a room for girls on the naughty list?” She walked her fingers along his pecs, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest that she’d be willing to bet didn’t have anything to do with carrying her.

Not a man who routinely did a thousand squats at a time. With weights.

Okay, maybe she’d watched that video of his workout a few too many times.

“Definitely. But first the hot tub.” He started forward again. “I’ve been daydreaming about seeing you all wet and naked.”

“Now who’s wicked?” she asked, peeling off her gloves and letting them land on his back porch as he brought her outside again.

She had a vague impression of a pergola and a big outdoor fire pit surrounded by built in chairs, but he moved to the opposite end of the porch where the decking jutted out more onto the lawn. She thought she could see the shape of a small building—an equipment shed, maybe—and the round outline of a huge spa tub.

“There are porch lights, but I don’t want to turn them on or it will ruin the view of the stars.” He stopped at the wall of the waist-high tub and flipped open the leather cover.

Steam spilled out everywhere. He hit one switch that brought the bubbles to life and another that turned on a small blue light inside the spa.

“I hope you’re not tossing me in there with my clothes on.” She narrowed her gaze. “I’m pretty sure you can come up with more rewarding ways to exact your revenge.”

“Count on it.” Juggling her higher against his chest, he turned on his heel and moved toward the shed.

A blast of heat emerged from inside as he opened the wooden door.

“A sauna.” She breathed in the warm, dry air while he stepped over the threshold and closed them inside the small, heated space.

Fragrant cedar burned somewhere within, but since the only light was a ring of tiny yellow bulbs ringing the ceiling, she couldn’t tell where.

“I’m going to set you down.” He lowered her sideways to a smooth wooden bench, settling her healing foot on the seat as well. He reached for something white hanging on a hook nearby. “Here’s a robe if you want one.”

“This is awesome.” She laid back on the bench in her coat, not even bothering to take off any clothes while she warmed up after being out in the cold.

“I spent a winter in Sweden, playing in their league before I secured a starting spot on the roster in Chicago. I couldn’t believe how many people had saunas in the backyard.”

“I wouldn’t move to Sweden without one, I don’t think.” She listened to the sound of him undressing and risked a look over at him while her eyes adjusted to the dimness.

His coat and sweater were long gone, the golden light burnishing his shoulders and chest with an enticing glow. She knew the hours upon hours of workouts required daily to look like that—workouts designed to give him an edge in an incredibly competitive league.

“My host family had one, and I just about lived in that thing when I wasn’t eating, training, or playing.” His hand paused over the button of his jeans, his eye wandering over her. “Need some help getting naked?”

“Yes and no. While I wouldn’t mind the help, I don’t think I’d get my hot tub soak if you start touching me now.” She forced herself to sit up, shrugging out of her winter coat and unfastening the buttons on a bohemian blouse she’d draped over a long sleeved tee.

“You know I have to stay and watch though.” He peeled off the rest of his clothes, slowing her forward progress simply by looking so damn good. And ready. For her. “I’ve got to be here to carry you out since I left your crutches in the front yard.”

Her mouth went dry while the rest of her went liquid.

“So you do.” She knew her body wasn’t the kind of sculpted perfection that his was, but she took some confidence from the fact that he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

That helped her fingers fly over the fastenings until her blouse, tee, and bra were gone, the clothes joining his in a pile by the bench. She’d barely gotten her boot off and the wrappings undone around her foot when he dropped to a knee beside her, his hands cupping her hips. His chest hot against hers.

“Too slow,” he muttered against her neck, his lips finding a spot on her throat that made her eyes cross a little and lose focus.

With his strong arms banding around her, and his mouth promising slow, sensual torment, she gave herself up to him and whatever he wanted. She needed this. Needed him.

She planned to wring every ounce of pleasure she could from these days together.

*

J.C. could feel
the moment Shea let go of those boundaries she liked around her at all times.