She shrugged and smiled. “I have some flowery beach dresses that might fit.”
Selena stole another glance at his bare torso as she passed him. She could have married this man. She bit her lip and forced her gaze on her bedroom door.
Jace followed her in, dressed in only a towel, the water dripping off his hair. She didn’t even need to turn around to know that. The image of him walking out of the bathroom was imprinted firmly in her mind. She opened her dresser drawers, sifting through shirts and leggings.
“It’s all on the small side,” she mumbled.
He bent over her shoulder, peering down into the piles of clothing. What had caught his attention? Then she saw it. Buried deep in the stack was Jace’s old high school football sweatshirt. She had kept it all these years.
He was right behind her, near enough to feel his breath in her hair. She remembered this, the way it felt to be so close to him, the way she could feel his mood without looking. The electric pull between them grew stronger, and her heart pounded in her chest.
Selena pulled out the sweatshirt and handed it to him over her shoulder. “I should have given this back a long time ago.”
He didn’t move. His breaths stopped. After a long pause, he took the sweatshirt, his hand brushing over hers. Then he stepped away, breaking the current between them.
She turned back to the drawer and searched until she found a t-shirt his size. She had originally bought it as a gag gift for Darren, though he hadn’t thought it was funny. Yet another sign of a bad match. But it fit right into her collection, so she’d kept it. She slipped it out of the pile and handed it to Jace, and he held it up.
“Abs are nice but doughnuts are better,” he read aloud, chuckling. “Nice.”
She closed the drawer and opened another, searching until she found a pair of Darren’s old green cut-off sweatpants he hadn’t bothered to take with him, Winner printed on the rear. In her sock drawer, she found a fluffy pair of bright red socks. The more ridiculous the outfit, the better to keep the mood between them fun. Which was the key to enjoying this dose of alone time with Jace…and letting it go, unscathed.
Smiling, she handed them over to him, making sure her gaze didn’t drift down from his face to his bare chest. “If I’m dressed like this, you get a colorful outfit, too.”
“‘Winner’?”
“Make your own conclusions.”
His smile was way too cocky for his state of undress. Right next to her bed. Time to get out of there.
So she left him alone in her bedroom and returned to the kitchen island. God, he still had the same effect on her as he did all those years ago. Before she could brace herself for another round of Jace, he wandered into the kitchen. No more bare chest. Still hot, but the quirky outfit took the effect down a notch. Much better. He planted his hands on the island counter and studied her packages.
“From your parents,” he said, nodding to the little brown-wrapped box at the center.
She frowned. It was a little too personal, a little too intimate to discuss her parents with him. It was no secret how hard they’d pushed her to break up with Jace, to move away and set her sights on college instead. And the second package was from Darren’s sister, another topic she didn’t want to get into.
Selena pushed those two boxes aside and focused on the third one. The return address had no name, just a P.O. Box in Delilah’s Cove, Oregon. She bent down for a side view, but there were no other clues.
“It’s not gonna open itself,” said Jace, his voice laced with humor.
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know who it’s from. But Delilah’s Cove sounds familiar.”
“Are you sure you don’t know? Or are you just waiting for me to leave so you can open those sex toys you ordered?” He picked up the box and shook it a little. “Hmm. If it’s a vibrator, it’s heavy. Do you get a discount if you order in bulk?”
“What would I do with a bulk load of vibrators?”
Jace put up his hands in surrender, snickering. “I’m not judging.”
Selena rolled her eyes. “Give it to me.”
She tore through the tape and opened the unmarked brown box. Inside was a round tin with a Christmas wreath on the lid. Four travel-size bottles of booze were packed in next to it. On top was a blank white card. She glanced up at Jace, and he raised his eyebrows.
“Come on,” he said. “You’re killing me.”
She waggled her eyebrows and turned over the card in slow motion. Jace groaned.
“Enjoy the magic of Christmas and prepare to fall in love,” she read. “The note is unsigned. Just those words and a web address from the USA Times.”
She set down the card and lifted the tin out of the box. Then she picked up one of the travel-size bottles with a laugh. “An anonymous gift of Wild Turkey? What the hell kind of Secret Santa is this?”
“A damn good one,” he said. “Open the tin.”
She had forgotten how impatient he could get. She looked up at him innocently and batted her eyelashes.
“This tin?” she asked, pointing into the box at the remaining item. She gave him a wide-eyed look, stalling. “You want me to open it?”
“Open it, Lee.”
She stilled. Lee. The nickname he used to use. He was standing close, dressed in his old football sweatshirt, calling her Lee. Her heart surged and her chest tightened, as she fought the warm flood of memories. Selena bit her lip and opened the lid, and the smell of whiskey filled the room.
Inside the tin was a fruitcake. An alcohol-laden one, clearly.
Selena burst into laughter.
“A fruitcake?” she managed between snorts. “Who sends a fruitcake?”
She looked up at Jace, and he was smiling, his eyebrows raised.
“What?”
“You got one of them.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You got one of the Delilah’s Cove fruitcakes.” He bent over it and took a whiff. “You didn’t hear about this?”
She shook her head.
He picked up the card and pointed at the web address. “I didn’t know anything about it until the USA Times ran an article on it early last month. It’s all very secretive. No one knows who makes them or who will get them.”
Selena took the card from him and studied it. The magic of Christmas? Fall in love? She wrinkled her nose and studied it. “I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that it’s crazy to eat it an unidentified fruitcake that shows up in my mailbox?”
Jace shrugged. “Someone baked a cake, added Wild Turkey, bought four more little bottles to throw in the box, wrote a card and paid to send it to you. If it’s a hoax, it’s pretty damn elaborate.”
Selena furrowed her brow. “I still think it’s a little nutty.”
Jace laughed. “Are you making bad fruitcake jokes?”
“Evidently,” she groaned.
They both stared at the fruitcake on top of the island. The rain whipped and pounded on the windows, cutting through the silence of the kitchen.
“Go for it, Selena. You know you want to open up the Wild Turkey.”
He clapped his hands together, like they were breaking a football huddle, and once again, her chest tightened. It was Jace, standing in her kitchen, talking her into something, just the way he used to.
She had told herself so many times that it hadn’t been love between them, just hormones and sex with a side of teenage drama. Hell, she had even told Darren that when they bought this house, and most of her had believed it. But as Jace smiled at her, his face lit with excitement and pure joy, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. There was so much more to them than hormones and sex, things she hadn’t let herself remember. There was more to their story than the very end. They’d had the closeness from years of knowing each other, watching each other struggle. She had been in love with this man all those years ago.
What would happen if they added a little alcohol into the mix tonig
ht? Looking at him over this crazy fruitcake, she wanted him to smile at her the way he had moments ago. Could she put aside all the reasons this might not be a good idea, just to see what would happen if they spent a few more hours together? Since Jace showed up, the sting of the revelations about Darren’s new life had faded. Nothing wrong with enjoying herself, enjoying them again…right?
She looked back up at Jace. His smile had faded.
“Just an idea,” he said, looking away.
“This has some serious whiskey in it,” she said. “If we do it, you’ll have to keep me company for a while longer before you can drive again.”
He met her eyes, and his brow wrinkled a little.
“You don’t have to,” she added quickly. “We can just—”
“I want to.” He cut her off, and for a moment, he looked at her the way he used to. Hungry. Like he wanted so much more than just to keep her company.
Right now, she wanted that, too.
Selena bit her lip. “Let’s do it.”
The corners of Jace’s mouth curved up again, and he grabbed a little bottle of Wild Turkey. “Hot damn, we’re trying the legendary fruitcake.”
She chuckled as she lifted the heavy cake out of the tin and placed it on her countertop. It was Bundt-shaped and brown with nuts and raisins, as well as bright red and green bits of something sticking out of it. Not chocolate cake-level appetizing, but it could be decent. Maybe, with enough Wild Turkey.
“I’ve never actually seen a fruitcake in person,” she said.
“Me neither.”
“Are there any instructions? Should I read the USA Times article first?”
For a minute, Jace looked almost anxious. If it had been nine years ago, she would have asked him what was wrong. Instead, she tried to read his reaction, something she used to be good at. But the look vanished too quickly, and in its place, he gave her an easy smile. “Sure, read it. See what you think.”
Selena grabbed her phone out of her purse and typed in the web address, then scrolled through the article.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, setting down her phone. “People really believe in magic?”
“Naah,” he said. “Probably just a publicity stunt.”
But as he spoke, he tilted his head and stared down at the fruitcake, as if he was still thinking through her question. The rain against her windows echoed in the warm kitchen as the silence between them grew. What if, against all odds, there really was something special about this anonymous package?
Prepare to fall in love.
Selena took a deep breath and handed him the bottle, then pulled out a basting brush from the cooking drawer. “You pour, I’ll brush.”
He unscrewed the top and a fresh wave of Wild Turkey filled the air between them. With a little laugh, he drizzled it on, and the alcohol disappeared into the cake. She brushed the baster over the trail of Wild Turkey Jace had left, with little effect.
“I think we did that wrong.”
He shrugged, still grinning.
Selena walked over to the cupboard and grabbed two plates. She set them on the island and nudged Jace aside to open the silverware drawer he was blocking.
He moved, but after she grabbed the forks and a large cake knife, he came up just behind her, his warm body so close, then settled against the counter. Her heart was doing crazy things in her chest, but she kept her eyes trained on the fruitcake.
The knife sliced through the cake easily, and Selena slid a piece onto each plate. Jace grabbed one. When she passed him a fork, his fingers lingered on hers as he took it. Heat rushed to her cheeks and down her body, spreading everywhere.
She cut off a bite and lifted it with her fork, finally meeting his gaze.
“To unexpected gifts,” she whispered.
Emotion flashed in his eyes, something she couldn’t quite read. He raised his bite. “To unexpected twists of fate.”
Chapter Eight
What the hell were they doing? From the moment Selena had unwrapped the fruitcake with the USA Times web address on the card, Jace had known exactly what was sitting on her counter. The magic fucking fruitcake. The one that was supposed to make people fall in love.
Ever since the beginning of December, the whole town had been talking about the ridiculous article. He usually ignored that kind of thing, but Andrew had had a lot to say about love these days. His brother was always looking for a reason to talk smack about how Jace thought he was too good for the women who flirted with him at the garage. About how one day some woman was going to bring him to his knees. So while he was supposed to go over the details of a classic Mercedes 1955 Gullwing Coupe, his brother had pulled the article up on his phone and read the highlights aloud. An anonymous sender, a cryptic note, and a fruitcake that had people falling in love. Bullshit. It must be the Wild Turkey talking.
“Maybe whoever is behind these fruitcakes will take pity on you, bro,” Andrew had said, slapping Jace on the back.
“It would take a hell of a lot of magic to make me eat fruitcake. Forget the falling in love part,” Jace had said to his brother.
But there he was, in the middle of Selena’s kitchen, eating a piece of the goddamn fruitcake. What had compelled him to talk her into tasting it? It had taken him years to get over her, so it couldn’t be that he wanted to go through that again. And he definitely didn’t believe in magic. But when he put the note together with the article Andrew had read to him, all that he could think about was this: What if Selena ate it when the pizza dude came for a delivery? Or if the neighbor with the Hummer came to check on her, and they ended up in bed?
Hell, no.
He didn’t believe in this magic bullshit, not even a little bit. Still, he wasn’t willing to take the risk. Magic or self-fulfilling prophesy, if there was any chance that Selena would fall in love with someone, he wasn’t letting another man step in. The last time, she ended up with that tool Darren. This time, he wasn’t taking any chances.
Jace swallowed down the bite of cake and raised his eyebrows. Surprisingly good. He took another bite and glanced over at Selena. She was staring down at her near-empty plate, her brow furrowed. Like something had just occurred to her, something that had surprised her. Slowly, he took another bite, his eyes fixed on her.
“This fruitcake is actually tasty,” she mumbled, a bit of wonder in her voice.
Jace’s mouth was full, so he grunted in agreement. No declarations of love yet. The magic was probably just gossip, something that Sacred Harbor already had more than its fair share of. He wasn’t disappointed. He had just tasted the damn cake to make sure. Nothing wrong with that.
Selena frowned. “What do you think is in it?”
Jace snorted. “A cup or two of Wild Turkey.” He took the last bite and nodded over to the empty skillet on the stove. “Anything would taste good after cocktail sausages.”
“Hey, I like that stuff,” she said, giving him a little shove.
“This is better.” He loaded up a bite on his fork and glided it around like an airplane flying toward her. “Open up.”
Selena rolled her eyes.
“Come on,” he said with mock seriousness. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
She sighed, and he headed the fork toward her again. But as she opened her mouth, he swooped it away and ate the bite himself. Selena huffed in exasperation.
“You’re such a child, Jace.”
He lowered the fork and turned to move closer to her, their bodies almost touching.
“Not even close,” he whispered.
She licked her lips. Goddamn, this woman did something to him. He loaded up the fork one more time and slowly brought it to her lips.
“I don’t know if I trust you this time,” she said.
Was she talking about the airplane game or something more? Maybe it didn’t matter. The last couple of days had already taken enough crazy turns for him to start second guessing it now. Her call in t
o the garage. The bomb she’d dropped about her divorce and full-time residence just outside Sacred Harbor. The anonymous fruitcake package. He probably should have hightailed it back to his house long ago. But he hadn’t. He was here, facing his sexy ex-girlfriend, and the Wild Turkey was starting to take effect on him. Which meant it was surely getting to her, too. He did a little loop with the bite of cake loaded up on the fork.
“You can trust me, Selena,” he said. “You know me.”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “That’s the problem. I know you well enough to know this is probably a bad idea.”
But she didn’t move away. Her lashes fluttered closed, and she parted her lips. Damn, the temptation was overwhelming. And it was so hard to remember why he was resisting anymore. Time to stop resisting. Instead of feeding her another bite of fruitcake, he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers.
A sharp inhale. A moan so soft he almost missed it. Then she leaned forward and kissed him back. Her lips lingered against his, their breaths mingling.
Yes. Yes. He had thought about this so many times since he dropped her off. The taste of her lips. Her scent. Her body shifting closer. Now it was happening again. Selena was kissing him. Tomorrow, he’d be kicking himself for getting tangled up with her, for letting the tiny spark of hope come alive inside, hope beyond reason that the rumors of magic were true. But right now, that didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered when the relief of kissing her was running through his body.
Or maybe it wasn’t relief. Maybe it was something else.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Lines creased her forehead, and she bit her lip. But before she could say anything that would take away from that kiss, somehow make it less, he lifted the fork again.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
Selena laughed, and the wrinkle on her brow disappeared. He fed her the cake, and she let out a little sigh of pleasure. His heart thudded in his chest as he watched her. What the hell was he getting himself into?
“You win,” she said, swallowing the bite. “This is so much better than cocktail sausages.”
A Winter Wonderland Page 5
