Two is Twice as Nice

Two is Twice
As Nice
by Emily Cale

Breathless Press

Calgary, Alberta

www.breathlesspress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or

persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Two is Twice as Nice

Copyright© 2010 Emily Cale

ISBN: 978-1-926930-19-0

Cover Artist: Victoria Miller

Editor: Clarissa Yip

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.

Breathless Press

www.breathlesspress.com

To my mom, who always believed in the magic of Christmas.

Chapter One

Just one more store.

If Cara McCourt could survive just a few more minutes of being jostled around by strangers wielding bags full of Christmas goodies, then she could get the hell out of this crazy place. Normally, shopping was one of her favorite activities, but this close to holidays—forget it. Every inch of the mall was packed with people trying to finish all their last minute errands, having completely forgotten the spirit of the season. No wishing one another a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. Just animosity for other patrons to get out of the way.

A quick glance down at the bags she carried told her she had already spent more than she’d planned. She couldn’t help it though. Something about the season sucked her in and turned her into a gift-giving machine. Growing up, there hadn’t been a lot of money for presents, but every Christmas morning, she would race down the stairs and dive under the tree, searching for the treasures that had her name on them. No matter how bad their financial situation, there was always something for her. Now that she was older, she understood the hardships her parents had gone through to make sure she and her brother, Isaac, had those magical memories.

Sighing, she turned around, praying to find a window display that might inspire the last thing on her list—the perfect gift for her mother. Her stomach gurgled, and she placed her palm over her belly, hoping it might muffle the noise. For a brief moment, she actually considered heading to the food court. In addition to being starved, her back and knees were killing her. Probably bad idea. Not even the perfect gift for Mom was worth dealing with the long lines and greasy food.

A glint in a window caught her eye, and she walked toward it, drawn to display. Everything she loved about winter was contained within the scene of a beautiful snow globe. Children danced through snow-covered streets, arms filled with the makings of an exquisite snowman, the smallest of the children on tippy toes, placing the top hat. She thought about getting it for her mom, but then images of the storage room with the shelves filled with similar items clouded her mind.

Pivoting on the balls of her feet, she smacked into something, knocking her backwards. Her bags skidded across the floor. As her head stopped spinning, she looked up. In front of her, a dark haired man reached out toward her, a worried expression on his face. His hand grabbed hers, providing her stability.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” He released her and bent down, gathering her purchases together, shoving fallen items back into the sacks.

“No, I was looking at something else.” She knelt down to help. She needed to get out of here before the crowd drove her nuts. Now she was walking into people. Maybe her mother’s gift could wait.

“Shall we share the blame? Perhaps sixty-forty?” He grinned, dimples forming on either side of his mouth. “I’m Anthony.”

“Cara, and it depends on which one of us is taking the higher percent.” She smiled back nervously then hoisted the bags off the ground. They were heavier than she remembered, confirming her thoughts—she had gone overboard with the shopping.

“Well, if I’m going to take the higher blame, you are going to have to let me make it up to you.”

Stunned, she bit her lip. “What did you have in mind?”

“Coffee? It’s the least I can do after scattering your stuff.” His eyes lit with mischief. “Even if it was mostly your fault.” Dimples formed again.

Normally, she didn’t take strangers up on offers, not that this sort of thing happened often. Instinctively, she ran her a finger over the raised scar on her cheek. It was just coffee. If things didn’t work out, she could leave and never think about it again. “Sure. When and where?”

“No time like the present. How about the little coffee shop outside the main doors?” Pausing for a moment, she thought about the last present she needed to find. It was still two weeks till Christmas, and the mall was practically unbearable. She shuddered to think what it would be like next weekend. Still, a hot guy with coffee always trumped shopping, and she owed it to herself to go. If she didn’t return, she could always find her mother’s gift online. Nodding, she motioned for him to lead the way.

***

Even before he returned to the table, she could smell the swirls of peppermint and chocolate wafting from the cups he carried. He’d insisted on buying her something, but hadn’t asked for her order, convincing her that he could guess what she’d like. She was usually picky about her drinks, but she let him go ahead with his plan. As soon as he set the peppermint mochas down on the table, she knew she’d made the right choice.

Sliding into a seat across the table from her, he lifted his drink to his mouth, sipping the liquid slowly. “Did you get everything you came for?” His eyes shifted to the pile of shopping bags at her feet.

“Almost. I just need to find one more gift. I can’t figure out what to get my mom.” His playful disposition and deep brown eyes made it easy for her to talk to him. She’d better not say too much. Giving away information about herself led to trouble. Besides, she didn’t know this man. It was just coffee.

“That’s a tough one. Maybe I can help you think of something.”

She smiled. It was cute he thought he could help. “You really think you are going to be able to come up with an idea for my mom? You’ve known me all of the last five minutes and you’ve never met my mom. I’ve known her my whole life and can’t come up with a single idea.”

“Try me. What sort of things does she like?” Eyeing him, she couldn’t help but think that he was wasting her time. She should be hunting for the last item on her list and heading home to relax. If he wasn’t so damn cute, she would have regretted the decision to join him altogether.

“Well, she likes Christmas. Most of our storage space is dedicated to the millions of Christmas decorations she insists on buying.”

“That’s all? Christmas?” He sank back in his chair and stared at her.

“And bears. She has a lot of stuffed bears too.” Damn it. Once again her mouth was moving faster than her mind, and she was powerless to stop it. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat under his intense scrutiny.

“You certainly aren’t making this easy. Have you considered finding a Christmas bear?”

She glared at him. Help was greatly appreciated, mockery not so much.

“Okay, okay.” He laughed and set his drink down on the table. “Oh, I know.” His face lit up, as though a light bulb had actually turned on inside his head. Moving forward, he propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm. “There’s this little shop downtown that sells antiques and collectibles. They have these little bear figurines for each year. They go back about thirty years. I don’t really get it, but apparently, they are wildly popular. You could get her one from the year you were born.”

Her mouth fell open, her hand tightened around the coffee mug. “That’s actually a great idea.”

He sat back in his chair and looked smugly at her, coffee-colored eyes twinkling at her. “That’s not even the best part.”

Cara moved to the edge of her chair, both intrigued and confused by his ability to understand exactly what she was looking for.

“The bears are released each year at Christmas, so they all have a winter theme.” He picked up his mocha and took a small sip. She found herself suddenly drawn to his lips, imagining them tracing the edges of her own mouth, kissing her gently. Cradling her chin in hand, one finger hit the edge of her scar, reeling her mind back to reality.

“I’m impressed,” she said, after clearing her throat.

“I know. I told you I’m good.”

“A little cocky, too.”

“Well, that’s true, but I assure you it is well earned.” He leaned in, his pine scent mixed with the smell of chocolate and coffee. A tightening in her stomach signaled the point that she should run. The attraction was impossible to ignore, and the longer she sat, the more she liked him. Dating was out of the question though. Since the accident, she hadn’t allowed any man inside her house, and she certainly hadn’t gone home with them. He was too good to be true. There had to be something wrong with him. “Well, then I have one more question for you.”

“Shoot. Need a present for your brother?”

“You’re not gay, are you?

His hands fell to his lap. “What?”

She blushed. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so direct. “Most of the guys I meet would never be able to come up with an idea like that.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I am one hundred percent straight. I just have a few little secrets that help me find the perfect present.”

Cara wasn’t convinced, but his charming attitude made her want to overlook any minor flaws. “Secrets, huh? You going to let me in on this little secret of yours?”

“Not on a first date.” He reached across the table and rested his hand on top of hers. Coffee had been a safe choice, but now it was clear he was thinking about a second date, and every muscle in her body screamed for her to get up and walk away. Her heart squeezed, overwhelmed by the dimples that appeared every time he grinned at her. For the first time in a long while, she felt as though someone was looking at
her
, not just the hideous scar on her face.

As he talked, she watched him with a sense of hope. Their easy conversation made her wonder what drew him to her. She usually didn’t socialize with anyone else but her family. When he’d asked her to the coffee shop, the most she hoped for was a free latte, then intended to make up an excuse to leave. Now only reasons to
stay
swam through her mind.

“Does that mean there is going to be a second date?” she asked. Under the table, her hand gripped her knee, praying that he would at least let her down gently.

“Perhaps. What did you have in mind?”

Crap. She had to think of something exciting that he would actually want to do. “Do you like Christmas movies?” She winced as she heard the words roll past her lips. What kind of date was that? She should have just asked him to a bar, a restaurant, or another coffee shop.

“Love them.”

Now that she had started down this path, she couldn’t just stop without him thinking she was completely insane. “Miracle on 34
^th
Street is showing tomorrow night at the downtown theatre.” Through her jeans, her nails dug into her skin. If he didn’t answer quickly, she was sure her fingers would puncture her skin.

“That’s just weird.” He put his cup down on the table and gave her a slight frown, his dimples fading.

She knew it. This date had gone perfectly well—she’d blown it.

“How did you know that was my favorite holiday movie?”

A heavy sigh of relief escaped her throat. She tried to hide her emotions with a grin and a shrug of her shoulders, but she still felt ridiculous. Bringing her cup up to her mouth, she took a long drink, allowing the soothing peppermint to seep into her system, calming her nerves. Their conversation continued for a few more minutes before they parted, agreeing to meet at the theatre the following evening. Watching him walk away, she couldn’t help but bite her lip. With the sexy ass he had, it would be easy for him to find someone else; someone less damaged. Even if it was one night, she didn’t mind getting a date with him as an early Christmas present.

Chapter Two

Cara straightened the pillows on the couch then stood back to examine them. Satisfied that the room was decent, she went back to the kitchen to check on her dessert. When he called earlier to tell her the theatre cancelled the show, she tried to back out, but he quickly suggested they watch the movie together anyway. He had made it sound so appealing—a movie at her house with dessert and apple cider. She caved to his request. It’d been so long since she had a man in her home, she didn’t want to blow this chance. At least, it felt safer than going to his place. It was the first time a guy, except her brother, had been over since the accident. Peeking through the window of the oven, she decided it was time to pull her famous peanut butter cup brownies out.

She was still debating whether or not to sneak a little piece from one of the edges when the doorbell rang. Straightening her hair in the reflection of the oven, Cara took a deep breath and went to the door. Peeking through the hole, she saw Anthony on the other side, a jug of apple cider in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other. She opened the door and ushered him into the entryway.

“I was going to bring wine, but I thought this would be more festive.” He motioned toward the jug.

She grinned and waved him into the room. “I have the movie ready to go, and I just pulled brownies out of the oven. How about we go heat this up and get started?” Her cheeks flushed as she thought about how her question could be misconstrued. “The cider,” she quickly added. He chuckled as she led the way into the kitchen.

After warming the apple cider and spiking it with the liquor, he carried the plate full of fresh baked brownies into the living room. While he arranged himself on the sofa, she finished getting the DVD set up. Moving to the couch, she sat down at the opposite end from him, making sure to keep her distance.

As the beginning credits played, she held the mug of steaming cider between her hands, blowing into the cup to cool the hot liquid.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She stopped for a moment, sure that he was curious about her scar. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax, but her stomach twisted itself into a huge knot.

“Of course.” Staring into her drink, she tried to think of the best way to explain her deformity.

“Why are you sitting so far away from me?” He patted the space on the couch between them. “I know you have a wonderfully large couch, but I was kind of hoping you would at least sit close enough for me to put my arm around you.”

The lump in her throat kept her from speaking; instead, she slid down the couch to his open arm. As soon as she was near him, he pulled her toward him. The heat from his body engulfed her, running through her veins until every inch of her skin tingled.

Between his fingers dancing over her knee and the sensation of his hip pressing against hers, it took every bit of effort she could muster to pretend to be watching the movie, let alone actually know what was going on. Leaning forward, she placed her mug down on the coffee table. The alcohol in it had sufficiently warmed her insides, and she was afraid if she kept drinking, her judgment might be compromised. Of course, one look at his dimples and her sanity would leave her, and a little impaired reaction would lead to a morning of regret.

“You know how beautiful you are, right?” He reached out and grabbed the hand that was instinctively reaching to touch her cheek, his fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist. “Why do you do that?”

Stunned, she just sat there, staring at the green flecks in his eyes. Her mouth parted open; she probably looked like an idiot. But
he
should have felt like the idiot though. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she touching. Glancing down, she could practically see the raised skin—still jagged and pink. Supposedly, that would fade over time, but she had her doubts.

“You shouldn’t try to hide your face. It’s perfect just the way it is.”

Normally, she wouldn’t have believed the words. Her family said similar phrases all the time, mostly because they didn’t know what else to say, but she always knew they were lying. With Anthony, there was a softness to his face, a certain ease that made her think he might actually mean what he was saying.

“You want to know how I got the scar?” Her voice was hushed, barely audible, yet her words hung in the air.

“Only when you want to tell me.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her forehead, his mouth heated her skin. Her body suddenly felt feverish. Yet, she’d never been better in her life. Finally, he released her hand. Her instinct no longer to reach for her cheek, she placed her palm firmly on his thigh, hoping he might get the hint to pull her close to his body then kiss her. As though he had read her mind, he placed his fingers beneath her chin, tilting it upward until her eyes were even with his. His dimples deepened as he leaned forward until his lips just touched hers.

Sweet and tender quickly turned to fierce passion. His tongue slipped from behind his teeth and met hers. Her pulse raced, tingles shot from her head to her toes. Hand nestled behind her head, he laid her back on the couch; her body melted into the cushions as he moved to rest on top of her.

His bulging cock pressed into her thigh, but she craved more from him. It was animalistic—a feeling she hadn’t experienced before, a need to have him inside of her. Shifting her weight, she moved until he rested between her legs, his erection against her mound. The small movements of their hips provided just enough friction for her clit to start pulsing. As his finger trailed over the outside of her thigh, she began tearing his shirt open, only ripping the buttons off. Little moans escaped her throat as his warm hand slid up her stomach, then cupped her breasts.

Unexpectedly, he pulled away, moving off her.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, sitting up. She slid down the couch to put space between them.

“No.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, gentler this time, but with the same passion. “I just think if we are going to continue, we should move this into another room.” Standing up, he bent and scooped her up in one smooth motion. She pointed toward the staircase. He heaved her farther up in his arms and started towards the stairs.

Resting her head against his chest, she tried to hide the big smile plastered across her flush face. She shouldn’t be doing this—letting a man she barely knew take her to bed—but everything seemed so perfect. It had been so long since a guy looked at her with more than disgust. She couldn’t help but be excited that someone so charming, gorgeous, and sweet could be interested in her.

At the top of the stairs, he paused for a minute, turning to look both ways.