“Oh, good, you’ve noticed,” he joked in a low, intimate voice before he leaned forward and kissed her.
It was strange how the past few days seemed like nothing but time she filled until she could be with him again.
She knew that was likely something she should be paying attention to, maybe analyzing and taking as a warning because the rest of her life shouldn’t have been merely what she got through to get her back to this. But at that moment she just couldn’t have cared less. All she could do was what she was doing—revel in that kiss she was returning with lips parted and breath mingling and a hand of her own that was already flat against the solid wall of his chest, her fingers pulsing into him.
His mouth opened wider and Shandie followed his lead, freeing the way for his tongue to come boldly to greet hers as he brought the hand from the sofa to cradle her head and wrapped his other arm around her.
He was certainly no babe in the woods when it came to plundering her mouth. But Shandie held her own, eager to keep pace, to learn every game and play it to the hilt.
Her other hand rose to the side of his strong, thick neck, then coiled around to his nape and down to the expanse of his broad shoulders.
She wasn’t sure whether he pulled her closer or she pulled him, but closer they were, with her front nesting against his.
She slid the hand at his chest to his side to get it out of the way of her breasts, her nipples high and hard. Could he feel just how hard they were through their clothes?
Possibly, because both of his hands were suddenly on her sides, their heels pressing her breasts from there, pulling them tighter to him.
It only made her nipples all the more insistent and when she didn’t deny him that much, Dax located her sweater’s hem and nudged underneath it.
His hands were hot on her skin and every bit a man’s hands—big, slightly rough, but taking care to be gentle as one remained low on her spine and the other retraced the route to the edge of her breast.
Mouths were wide, tongues were toying erotically by then, and the anticipation of having his hand fully on her breast caused Shandie to writhe just a little with the ever-growing yen for him to finally reach her, touch her, show her what he could do with his mechanic’s grasp.
A small, almost guttural sound came from deep in his throat just before he did exactly that, covering her breast with a hand that nearly dwarfed it.
Oh, if only she hadn’t worn a bra!
Even the thin lace of it was too much barrier between that taut, straining nipple and his touch.
Then that hand on her spine sluiced upward and in one easy motion, the bra was unhooked and she was free.
Under the cup he came, warm and tender, firm in his caress of her oh-so-sensitive flesh, his palm making the perfect cove for her nipple to kernel into before he began to massage, to knead, to tug and tease first the entire globe and then the nipple itself with fingers that knew just the right amount of force to use.
Circling, rolling, plucking that fragile crest, tonight he didn’t merely awaken things inside of her that had been long sleeping, he electrified them.
Shandie had no idea when her own hands had gone under his sweater, but she was aware of the fact that they were filled with the smooth, calfskin-over-steel feel of his skin.
She kneaded his back, digging her fingers into him even as that hand at her back dropped to her rump to bring her closer to him before traipsing along the back of her thigh and uncurling her leg to position it around his hip.
She wasn’t sure if what their mouths were doing could still be called kissing as they hungered for each other, as tongues thrust and threw off all restraint.
There was something untamed let loose in Shandie that she’d never known existed before and that leg he’d repositioned curved completely behind him, putting her nearly in his lap.
He flexed forward, inviting even more as his hand worked glories at her breast—going from one to the other so neither was neglected and both were alive with wanting even more from him. With nearly crying out for his mouth there instead.
Thinking of how much she wanted to be rid of her own top, Shandie raised her hands to his shoulders, taking his higher. High enough that he got the message and broke away from her mouth so she could pull his sweater off.
Then he was back again, his mouth ravaging hers, one hand turning the bud of her breast into a burgeoning blossom of yearning that caused her to strain for more, the other on her rear, his fingers digging into her while she savored the unfettered freedom and expanse of his naked, massively muscled upper half.
Then he brought that hand that was on her derriere to the back of her waistband instead, following the strip of denim around to the front where he unfastened the brass button…
Almost everything in her shouted, Yes! Unzip them! Take them off! Let me feel you there, too!
Almost everything.
But somewhere far in the back of her mind a small, quiet voice said, Uh-oh…
Should she really let this happen?
She wanted to.
She wanted to very, very badly.
But should she?
Oh-h-h-h…probably not.
And even though probably wasn’t definitely, it was still enough for her to clamp her hand over his as he reached for her zipper and stop him.
He also stopped kissing her, looked at her from beneath eyebrows arched loftily on that achingly handsome face, and said, “No?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know. But no. Maybe not.”
He smiled a slightly distressed smile. “If it isn’t an absolute, certified yes, then it’s a no.”
She couldn’t give him an absolute, certified yes. She wanted to. But she just wasn’t sure…
She shook her head and whispered, “Then for now, I think it has to be a no.”
He nodded. But he kissed her again. A long, slow, sexy kiss that took her another notch nearer to yes before he ended it, gave her breast one final, lingering squeeze, then released it, too, and refastened her bra.
That bit of lace required some adjusting, but she seized the opportunity to do that when he retrieved his sweater from the floor in front of the sofa.
She also devoured the sight of his bare chest—a view that was no less than mouthwatering and set her to wondering if she’d made a mistake to stop when she was craving so much more of him again.
But she didn’t act on that craving. Instead she refastened her jeans as if that put some irrevocable finality to it all.
Dax stood then and she did, too. Silently, they both went to the front door where he opened it as if he needed the cold blast of snow-laden air that came flooding inside.
“Thanks for letting me use your garage tonight,” Shandie said, thinking that it sounded feeble at that point.
Dax merely nodded again, his dark, dark eyes on her as surely as his hands had been moments before.
He leaned forward and kissed her again with lips parted, soft and so, so tempting.
Then he stopped. Said nothing. And left.
And as Shandie watched him walk through the falling snow, all she wanted was for him to turn around and come back, whisk her upstairs to her downy bed and make love to her until she couldn’t walk.
But she held her breath so she couldn’t call to him, staying there in the frigid air even after he’d driven away.
And still she wasn’t totally convinced that she shouldn’t have just said yes after all….
Chapter Eight
“These-uz is all the bunch of new ormanents we buy’d,” Kayla announced to Dax late Sunday evening.
Shandie considered the corrections she should have made in her daughter’s sentence, but she decided against interjecting an English lesson into what was the end of a terrific day.
Sunday morning had dawned with the worst of recent weather predictions having come true—thirty-two inches of snow had fallen overnight. With no way for Shandie’s sedan to get through it in order for her and Kayla to go buy a Christmas tr
ee, Shandie had been in the middle of trying to console her distraught and disappointed three-year-old when Dax had come to the rescue. Kayla had talked and talked about their tree plans while Shandie had painted the preschool program clouds on Saturday night, so he’d been well aware of what they’d intended to do today. He’d also realized when he’d seen the snow that it wouldn’t be possible to accomplish it. So he’d called and offered to take them on his snowmobile.
After the way the previous evening had ended—and the unsatisfied stirrings that had kept Shandie awake most of the night—there wasn’t anything she’d wanted so much as to see him again. Wise or unwise. And because he was providing a solution to her problem, she’d accepted.
By the time he’d picked them up at two that afternoon he’d persuaded his friend, Russ Chilton, to let them cut down a tree off Russ’s ranch property. Dax had also gone to his other friend—ranch and farm equipment supplier Mitch Cates—to borrow the necessary chain saw and ax. Topping it all off, Dax had procured a sled and rope to pull behind the snowmobile for dragging the tree back into town, and set everything into motion for Shandie and Kayla to have their first experience cutting down their own Christmas tree. Or, at least, picking one out and watching him do the work.
Shandie had had some concerns about taking Kayla on the snowmobile, but Dax had brought the little girl a helmet and guaranteed that he would keep his speed to a minimum. So, with Kayla firmly sandwiched in front of Shandie and behind Dax, Dax had taken them into the countryside and they’d had a full afternoon of tree cutting.
While Dax and Kayla had built a stand for the tree once they’d gotten it home, Shandie had made a quick supper for them all. After that they’d strung the tree with lights, then hung shiny multicolored glass balls, plastic candy canes and the decorations from previous years that Shandie had unpacked. And now they were down to the newest batch of ornaments Shandie and Kayla had picked out for this year—saving those for last.
“Orm-a-nents, huh?” Dax repeated the little girl’s mispronunciation as he sat on the couch beside the box of new purchases that Kayla was peering into.
“Uh-huh,” Kayla confirmed. “I picked-ed ’em out. We gots Santa wis a cute puppy dog, and a snowman in a bucket,” she said, describing them as she took them from the box and handed them to him. “Lookit, here’s a mouse sittin’ in a cupcake. An’ this one’s a kitty peekin’ outta a present. An’ here’s a pitty pincess what looks like me.”
“Yes, she does,” Dax agreed.
“We still have the angel to put on top of the tree, too,” Shandie reminded them from where she was draping strands of tinsel carefully over the branches. “And it’s past your bedtime, Miss Kayla Jane, so let’s get to it.”
“We gots to puts hooks on ’em,” Kayla said. “An’ here’s the wa’rus, too!” she added when she discovered one last ornament.
Shandie had looked away from the scene on the sofa, but when her daughter burst into giggles she glanced back.
“What?” Dax inquired innocently, as if he had no idea why the child was laughing. But he’d put hooks on two of the ornaments and hung them around the tops of his ears to dangle on his chiseled cheeks.
“You don’ wear ’em!” Kayla told him amidst her nearly hysterical laughter.
“What’re you talking about?” he asked, playing dumb.
Kayla looked to her mother. “Dax gots ormanents in his ears. He’s funny!”
“I think we should make him wear them in to work tomorrow,” Shandie suggested.
Kayla laughed even harder. “Wis the big bikes—he’d be silly.”
“Because he doesn’t look silly now,” Shandie goaded.
“We has to put ’em on the tree,” Kayla said then, reaching without warning to yank the snowman free, surprising Dax and making him yelp.
Shandie couldn’t help laughing at that, especially when Dax removed the second ornament in a hurry before her daughter had the chance.
“Guess you’ll think twice about that the next time, won’t you?” she said in an aside to him.
But Dax wasn’t actually injured and merely uttered a “Yow!” as he rubbed his ear.
There were no hard feelings, though, as he finished applying hooks to the remainder of the new ornaments. Then he and Kayla brought them to the tree to find places for them.
Since he seemed to be enjoying the decorating as much as Kayla was, Shandie went on stringing tinsel and left them to that.
“When’re you gonna put up yur tree?” Kayla asked him as they did.
“I don’t usually put up a tree,” Dax told her.
“Why?” Kayla exclaimed with horror.
“I don’t have any ormanents,” he said.
“You could buy some,” the little girl reasoned.
“I could,” he allowed just as they finished the last of the new decorations, too. Then he changed the subject by pointing to the angel tree topper. “How about you get on my shoulders like we did at the parade, I’ll climb on the ladder, and you can put the angel on top?”
“I don’t know about the logistics of that,” Shandie contributed. “Maybe you better just let Dax do it because he’s the tallest.”
“We’ll be fine,” he assured, orchestrating Kayla climbing to the back of the couch while he sat on the arm so she could get on his shoulders. Then he did as he’d said he would and climbed the few steps on Shandie’s kitchen step stool until Kayla was within range.
“Hang on,” Shandie warned, fearing they were both going to tumble into the tree.
But they didn’t and Kayla managed to get the angel onto the tree’s top branch—askew, but up there nonetheless.
Then Dax took her back to the sofa, squatted low enough to safely dump the little girl backward onto the soft cushions and make her laugh again.
Without a word, he went into the entryway to where his fleece-lined suede coat was hanging on the hall tree and returned with a small, gaily wrapped package in his hand. Bringing it to Kayla, he held it out to her and said, “Here you go—your first Christmas present this year.”
Shandie had finished with the tinsel and went to the sofa to see what was going on.
“Can I open it?” her daughter asked her.
“That’s up to Dax. He gave it to you.”
“You better open it or it’ll go to waste,” he advised.
Kayla didn’t hesitate to rip the wrapping to shreds to find a Christmas tree–shaped night-light inside.
“I saw it at the gas station when I went to fill the snowmobile’s tank and I thought this way you could have a tree of your own in your room,” he explained.
“Can I put ormanents on it?”
“When we plug it in it’ll look like it has lights and ornaments on it already,” Shandie informed her. “What do you say to Dax?”
“Thank yoo-oo,” Kayla complied as she hopped down from the couch. “Le’s go plug it in!”
Shandie glanced at Dax. “Good timing,” she said in another aside before addressing her daughter. “We’ll plug it in as soon as I get you into your pajamas and you go to bed, which you need to do right now.”
With the lure of the new night-light the child didn’t put up a fuss, running for the stairs with her treasure.
“Tell Dax thanks for everything today, too, and say good-night,” Shandie called after her.
Kayla repeated her mother’s words by rote and climbed the steps.
“We still need work on the delivery,” Shandie said to excuse her daughter’s less-than-heartfelt recitation.
“It’s okay. I know she had a good time today.”
“She did,” Shandie answered.
Dax cast a glance toward the front door then, as if she’d given him a cue that it was time to end the evening.
Or was he just thinking about it himself?
There was no doubt it would be better if he left. Safer. It would remove temptation from her path.
But she didn’t want him to go. Not yet. They hadn’t had any time to themselve
s.
He didn’t say anything about going, though.
And neither did Shandie.
Instead she said, “This will only take a few minutes.”
“Don’t rush. There’s no hurry,” he countered.
And for some reason, she wondered if he was only referring to her putting Kayla to bed, or if he was also telling her there was no hurry on that other front that had begun the night before, too. That she shouldn’t feel pressured.
But she didn’t feel pressured. Inclined, maybe. But not pressured…
“When I come back we can sit by the fire and look at the tree,” she suggested.
“I’d like that,” he said.
Shandie followed in Kayla’s wake then, but once she was on the third step she paused to look back into the living room. Dax was picking up some of the debris and wasn’t aware that she hadn’t gone all the way upstairs yet.
He looked as good as always in a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck sweater that hugged that torso she’d gotten to see bare the night before, only adding to its grandeur.
And the ripple of appreciation for the sight of him let her know that what had come alive in her on Saturday night wasn’t too far below the surface tonight.
Making that temptation he’d left in her path all the greater….
It took Shandie about twenty minutes to get Kayla to bed and then she made a quick pit stop in the bathroom. As she washed her hands, she took stock of herself in the mirror behind the sink.
When they’d returned to the house with the Christmas tree she’d changed out of the snow-crusted jeans and heavy sweatshirt she’d worn against the cold, and put on another pair of jeans and a baby-blue velvet hoodie that zipped up the front. She’d left her hair in the clip at the back of her head to keep it contained, though, and she decided on the spur of the moment now to unclip it and brush it to fall around her face instead.
Mascara and blush had been refreshed earlier and didn’t need another retouch, but she did apply a coat of lip gloss.
Then she did one more thing.
She lowered the zipper on her hoodie.
Family for the Holidays Page 11
