“Seems to me a church would be immune to magic, being on sacred ground and all,” Jack points out.
“Maybe Saint Nicholas gets a pass. He and the priest have the same boss, after all.” Andi looks at him challengingly.
The Doc and his son both let out peals of laughter, the elder’s loud and booming, filling the room. Even the servants titter a little. “Well said! Well said!” Jack snickers as he looks between the two of us. “Well, I can’t say that you don’t do your homework on these things.”
Andi smiles with something like relief, and I clear my throat. “Anyway. None of the scenarios we have come up with get us any closer to sorting out a mundane way that all of this could have been coordinated and carried out in secret. Even if you’re not responsible, you’re the local Christmas expert. You must know something.”
“I know some things, and perhaps you’re right,” Whitman concedes. “Perhaps something supernatural did occur.” He takes a swallow of his hot spiced wine and then gestures with his mug.
“The problem is that in the end, you’re never going to find anything that reveals the whole truth behind this in a way that can be scientifically proven. Not even with all of your tech or all the scientists on your payroll back home.”
“But why?” Andi asks softly. I hate the disappointed note in her voice.
“Because people won’t believe,” Jack cuts in. “Even when someone tells you exactly who they are and why they do what they do, you have trouble believing yourself.”
I look down. I can’t see if the recorder’s going, but I speak as if it is. “Debunkers pit science against finding a wider view of reality, instead of aiding in the search for it. I’m trying to do the opposite.”
The Doc shakes his head sadly. “But science isn’t advanced enough yet. Humanity may not be either.”
This is simultaneously the deepest and the craziest conversation I have ever been in. Please let this thing be recording!
“Anyway, you’ll certainly get an interesting book out of your trip, and hopefully you’ll get some new ideas. And even if you don’t quite get what you want with that, you’ll find that your greater aims here have been fulfilled. It was never entirely about the investigation, now was it?”
What the hell? Andi and I exchange glances, and I cough politely. “That’s not actually accurate, Doc.”
“Oh, it’s perfectly accurate. If the two of you didn’t chase the paranormal, you would find something else and pursue it with just as much passion. It could be rock climbing, bird photography, amateur archeology, or community theater.”
He looks so smug that it pisses me off, but what he says next takes all the wind from my sails at once.
“What makes it special for the two of you is that you are doing it together.”
I look at Andi, who’s staring between the two of us in amazement, her cheeks so pink that I’d feel sorry for her if I wasn’t so stunned. I always knew the exact reason why I’ve stayed in the business of paranormal investigations…and it looks like the last of Andi’s denial just got burned away. “Oh,” she mumbles.
I can see his beard twitching slightly as he tries to hide his amusement within it. “Oh, chin up, young lady, that doesn’t mean that you won’t have any success. It just means that if either one of you left your partnership, the other would not continue with this work.”
He winks. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
I can feel my ears prickling. But I can’t say honestly that Whitman is wrong. I just can’t understand his interest in us or his motive for constantly bringing the topic back to us and our relationship, no matter how hard we try to keep things focused.
Maybe he sees a lot more than I thought.
“Nobody said you were.” I don’t know how I’m keeping my voice quite so calm. “But that’s not why we’re doing this interview.”
“Yes, I understand.” he takes a few more bites from his plate, his face thoughtful, taking his time. “Of course it isn’t.”
“I think that what my dear old dad is trying to say is,” Jack breaks with surprising gentleness, “some things in life are more important than trying to scientifically prove what is currently unprovable. And I’m with him in the belief that your time is best spent with each other, regardless of how you choose to spend it.”
We answer with awkward smiles. The conversation turns towards some old stories of our adventures together, which we struggle through. My heart’s pounding, and from the look on her face, Andi has been affected just as strongly.
I don’t regret it afterward. My partner, on the other hand…
“I can’t believe those people,” Andi mutters as we drive back down the mountain. “I was looking for an interview on the Whitmans’ involvement in this prank, and instead we spent more time talking to them about our relationship than anything else!”
I don’t answer right away. It is very dark, even with the snowdrifts reflecting my headlights, and I drive carefully, wary of picking up too much speed on the slippery road. Worse, it looks like there’s another snowstorm threatening. The sky between the bare trees is a starless, charcoal-colored haze.
“So the old guy’s a hopeless romantic. Nobody loves Christmas that much and isn’t a romantic.” I hear that silence start to stretch out and let out a hard huff of air. “Andi. It’s not perfect, and it was awkward, but we did get some quotes from him that will go well with it all.”
There’s so much more than that. I can feel the understanding growing between us now, the realization that we have too much unfinished business. Maybe I’m about to get that second chance I’ve always longed for.
If that’s the case, I swear I’m not letting things fall apart again.
“Yeah, it’s just…” She goes quiet as I slow down for a steep curve. “It feels like he’s been teasing us this entire time.”
“Teasing us? Or making it clear that some things are none of our business?” I keep my voice kind. I can tell she’s totally exhausted.
“But why did he have to invade our privacy like that?” She frets slightly.
“Why not? We were trying our best to invade his. Hopeless romantic or not, he also wanted to discourage us from putting our noses in too deep.”
She flops back against her seat in exasperation. “But why? Would it be so bad for humanity to know conclusively that some sweet, romantic display of magic is actually real?”
I couldn’t accuse the mysterious pair of being malicious or selfish. So what could it be? “Maybe if people know too much about how he does this stuff, they’ll try to stop him?”
Her eyes go slightly wide. “Do you think that’s it? He’s afraid he’ll get the wrong kind of attention?”
“And they’ll disrupt what he’s doing.” We turn onto the road leading into town over one of the two bridges that bracket it. “That makes as much sense as anything else I can come up with.”
“That leaves me wondering how we handle this responsibly. This isn’t the kind of event we want to discourage—especially in a place like New York.” She relaxes, seeming very comforted by the idea that there’s a good reason behind the Whitmans’ evasiveness.
“Yeah, around here, folks need all the Christmas magic they can find. Life is tough, and the weather’s brutal.” I drive us into town as the first flakes start to fall. “Ugh, here we go again. Glad we left when we did.”
“Yeah.” She rubs her face and then glances at me as I stop to let a snowplow past on the cross street. “Do you think we should take the deer cams down, then?”
I frown. “Come on, sweetheart, you’re the big believer. Even if we could have just as much fun hiking or spelunking or something, it doesn’t mean you should give this up. You do love this stuff. We’ll just have to figure out how to use what we find out tomorrow night.”
She turns a game smile to me and nods, sighing. “I know you’re right. I do. But it gets really, really tough to keep believing.”
For a moment, her tone reminds me of earlier when she talked about n
eeding to protect herself—from disappointment, from humiliation, from loss. Just like in love.
I put a hand on her shoulder. “You have more than enough proof to keep believing, sweetheart. At this point, we both do. You might not have enough proof for anyone else, but at least you and I are on the same page. Whatever this is, it is real, and it is very special.”
That makes her smile as she gazes at me. “Well, you’re definitely right about that.”
9
Andi
“Let’s just check the audio and video in the morning,” David yawns as we lug our stuff up the stairs. “I’m thinking cocoa and bed.”
“I’m thinking cocoa and bed, too,” I say thoughtfully as the biting cold wears off. I’m not sure we’re quite on the same page as far as ‘bed’ goes, though. And I need to fix that now.
I know now that ‘bed’ was where I fell short in our relationship He never got good at giving me what I needed…but I never got good at asking.
We heat the leftover cocoa in the electric kettle while we peel off our outerwear and boots. The cold has deepened outside, but for some reason the walk back from the parking lot didn’t leave me chilled the same way it did this morning. I’m fine.
I’m also on a mission.
“I hate to say it, but inappropriate as it was, the Doc had a serious point or two.” My socks are actually sweaty from being in the heavy boots and socks. How did I nearly freeze earlier?
I’m getting used to the idea that I may never know, but it’s a bitter pill. So it’s better to think about other things. Much more pleasant things.
“About us?” Poor David sounds so hopeful that I have to bite back a laugh.
“Yeah, us and ghost hunting. I love the chase, David, I do, but I wouldn’t bother with it if I wasn’t doing it with you.” It takes all my courage to look him in the eyes and admit that, but it’s time.
He stares at me as my heart thunders, and then he drops his boots with a clunk. Outside, the wind rises to a wail, shaking the windows slightly, but I barely notice. For a brief moment, the sound nags at me slightly—like there’s something I’m forgetting.
Then I’m in his arms again, and I forget everything but his kiss.
The first times we ever kissed were pure magic, even if they were clumsy with enthusiasm. It’s like that now—except for the way he slides his fingers up the back of my skull to grasp my hair firmly by the roots. I whimper, shocked and excited; he teases at my tongue with his until I slowly start to respond. His other arm is around my waist, holding me firmly as I slide my hands up his chest.
I hold him so tightly, like I’ll never let him go. He’s still a big kid in some ways, but not in the ways that used to drive me crazy. I’m tired of stopping myself from trying again by telling myself that people don’t change. He has.
It just took a holiday miracle and a life-threatening crisis to really show me how much.
Seducing him took less work than I thought it would. But finally, we both run out of breath, and he breaks the kiss and backs off slightly, looking down at me as we pant mutely.
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that,” he mutters huskily, his breath blowing warm air on my tingling lips.
The old anger and frustration that soured me on sex with him have lost so much of their strength that I can barely feel them. “It’s become pretty damn clear we’d better…work this out,” I murmur against his lips a moment before he kisses me again.
It’s rougher this time, and I return the favor, digging my fingertips into the muscle of his shoulders and pressing against him eagerly. But after several delicious moments, he backs off again, looking cautiously down at me.
“I’m getting horny as hell here, sweetheart. If you want me to go, tell me now.” I can feel the tremor in his body, and he’s sipping air like he can’t get it all the way down into his lungs. Back in the day, he would have already been taking off my clothes without seeing if I was into it. Now, he restrains himself.
Intriguing.
I look up at him and then deliberately slide my hand down to cup the crotch of his pants, feeling the fabric straining to contain his cock. He groans through his teeth and looks down at me with an anguished expression. “I want you to stay,” I tell him firmly.
This time when he kisses me he lifts me as well—no small feat, since I’m no small woman. Startled, I throw my arms around his neck and let out a sharp whimper against his mouth.
He carries me to the bed and I flash back to this morning, when I was too distracted by cold to notice that he did the same then. Before he used his body to warm me without making a single move outside of a sleepy kiss.
It’s very promising. After all, too much impatience is the death of good sex.
As soon as he settles me on the bed I start tearing off my clothes impatiently. He stares for a moment as I struggle out of way too many layers—then he eagerly starts stripping down as well.
David called me an Amazon once, and I’d never forgotten that comment—but as he stares down at me hungrily the last of my self-consciousness starts to dissolve. He likes my tall body with its bountiful curves, its firm, heavy breasts and powerful thighs. He’s seen it before; the touch of his gaze doesn’t make me uncomfortable.
Anything but. His worshipful look as he takes me in from head to toe before pulling off his long johns makes me feel like a goddess.
He really has filled out nicely under those woolens—his body still lean but well-muscled, his treasure trail a little thicker but his belly just as flat. I run my hands over him, brushing my hand briefly over his thick, well-groomed cock, which is as silky smooth as I remember.
The wind screams outside the windows and the lights flicker as he joins me in bed. Again, I feel like I’m forgetting something. But this is more important. I push it to the back of my head and wrap my arms around him.
For just a moment I tense up, because when I embrace him, I wonder if he’ll pull the same uncomfortable trick he used to and push his way inside me before I’m quite ready. But he holds back instead, his hands running over me almost too slowly as he explores my body in a new way.
He has a strangely serious look on his face as he caresses me, his hands warm and firm on my skin. I can feel his cock brushing against my thigh. My eyes close, and I let myself relax under his hands while he keeps up his caresses, taking his time.
Every time he finds a spot that makes me gasp, he strokes me there again and again until I’m shaking. My nape, my collarbones, the spot just under my breasts, my hips, and the tops of my thighs all get as much attention as my tits and bountiful ass, which he’s always been obsessed with. “Like that?” he purrs in my ear as he runs two fingers around my nipple and then rolls it gently between them.
I arch slightly and nod, making a small sound of pleasure. He grins and slides down my body, starting to kiss my neck as his hands knead and stroke my breasts.
I stretch under him, enjoying his weight over me again now that he’s not trying to rush the encounter. In fact, his teasing is starting to get me very, very turned on.
He’s found the spots that make me moan and goes after them feverishly, his hands firm and sure. Crouched over my thighs on his powerful knees, he kneads my ass roughly with his hands as his mouth takes over their work. I tremble and moan as he covers me with slow kisses…and then I thrash suddenly, overloaded by unfamiliar pleasure.
He pauses with his lips inches from my breast and looks up at me. My heart is beating too hard and my body is too tense; the intensity of sensation almost hurts. Propping himself up, he purrs, “Roll over.”
Moments later, he has me on my side with him snugged up behind me, cock sliding over the small of my back as he kisses and nips at my neck and shoulders. His hands knead my breasts, stroking their thumbs back and forth over my nipples while I squirm and gasp.
I can feel him shuddering with need behind me, his cock throbbing hard against my skin. But still, he takes his time. His hands and mouth slowly move down my
body, leaving a trail of stinging love-bites down my spine while his fingers move to dig gently into the hollows of my hipbones.
I rub my ass back against him, and he growls and squeezes the twin globes roughly. My cunt aches for him in a way I can’t remember feeling since I was sixteen and didn’t even know what sex was like. Now, unexpectedly, I’m learning what it can be like.
“Can you roll back over for me, sweetheart?” he breathes in my ear after a while, and I know what he’s after. I want it, too—his mouth on my breasts, his body on mine. But then…I hesitate.
My mind fills with images from the amazingly sexy dreams I’ve been having, and I smile, suddenly inspired. “I have a better idea.”
“Holy shit,” David groans as he settles back against a pile of pillows I’ve heaped on the bedstead. His cock is so hard that it gleams. He looks up at me in amazement as I kneel over him, positioning myself.
“Don’t you dare bust yet,” I warn him, and he grins and nods, a little wide-eyed. I take hold of his cock, and he grunts as his head rolls back, fingers digging into the bedding. I fit him between my now-slick folds and start to lower myself.
“Aaaah!” he gasps, body straining under me suddenly, eyes flying open. He pants hoarsely as he struggles to keep it together; I slide further and further down, feeling him stretch me open inside. Finally, I settle over him completely, my knees sinking into the pillows as he moans low in his throat.
I hold still; we hold each other until his tremors relax, and he starts to caress me again.
I don’t know why he’s so confident until he takes hold of the small of my back with one hand and bends me back a little, nuzzling my breasts. His other hand settles between us…and takes hold of my labia right over my clit. His thumb dips into the warm slit there…and starts to circle delicately, then more firmly.
A Kiss of Winter: A Second Chance Christmas Romance (Dreams Fulfilled Book 3) Page 7