“He’s trying to piss you off. Or me off, as the case may be.”
Malory turned and fisted her hands on her hips. “You’re walking on thin ice here. Stop while you’re ahead. I’m still pissed at you, and this isn’t making it any better.”
“Then listen.” He bounded across the kitchen, took her by the shoulders, and spun her toward him. A flash of panic ran through her, but the fear that settled in his eyes made her listen. There was something about this man LeBlanc that scared him; just the talk of LeBlanc’s bimbos had Chris losing his cool.
He took a moment and she watched his eyes calm. “You met Portia. My guess is in the next week you’ll meet Mercedes and then Shelby.”
“Shelby? That doesn’t match the theme.” She tugged away from his grasp then walked to the refrigerator and opened it.
“Shelby as in Mustang.”
“Oh.” Malory shook her head as she reached back for the milk and set it on a shelf. “Why would he do that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, but he’s done it before. Three times Then he’ll show up in his Ferrari to wow the dear people of Aspen Creek who think a dual-axle pickup is the best vehicle around.”
“So he’s played this little joke on you before?”
“Some joke. By the time he drives in laughing, any relationship I was in was ruined.”
“So this is to ruin a relationship?”
He threw his hands in the air. “Of course. He knows we’re seeing each other and he’d do anything to piss you off and break my heart.”
Her head was starting to spin with the information he was shelling out.
“First of all—we’re in a relationship?”
“Aren’t we?” He moved in closer to her, resting his hands on her hips. It was becoming harder to hold on to her anger when the heat of his touch sizzled through her clothes.
She swallowed hard. “You’re mad at me for having an affair.”
“I was hurt.” He tossed his head from side to side. “You were right. I was disappointed in my perfect Wil.”
“I’m not perfect.”
“You are to me.” He rested his forehead against hers, and she sighed as she fell against him, feeling his heart beating against her.
“So, this guy has ruined your other relationships?” The words caught in her throat. She didn’t want to think he’d given his heart to anyone else, and being face-to-face with the thought stung.
“I wouldn’t say they were relationships, really.” He stepped back and leaned against the counter again. “But it was a slap in the face. A couple of them literally slapped me.” He let out a strained laugh. “But he made his point. I’d get so worked up over it, I’d screw up the plays and we’d lose some big game.”
“So why now? Why would he do that to you now?”
“Where do I start?” He paced the kitchen in his bare feet. “I’m in my hometown where people seem to think a lot of me. If he can tool in here in his fancy car, women on his arm, and beat me at my own game, I’ll look like a fool. If he can make a mockery of what I’m trying to do, again, I look like a fool.” He crossed back to her and pulled her into his arms. “And if I lose you over rumors and misguided innuendos, I’ll be worse than a fool.”
“You’re no fool.” She rested her head against his chest.
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
Malory lifted her face to gaze at him. “So, you really want me for your girlfriend?” She smiled slyly. “You did say we were in a relationship.”
“I so want you as my girlfriend.”
Heat sizzled through her. She’d thought they were over, and he’d only needed to prove to her he could follow through on something. Malory felt her body give into the heat that being near him ignited. Her legs felt as though they would turn to liquid this close to him.
“Having a girlfriend who has her own place has its benefits.” She raised her arms around his neck and inched up on her toes. “Ya get my drift?”
“I think I’m getting it.” His arms wrapped around her, and she was aware of every muscle in his body tensing against her.
Malory pressed her lips to his softly at first, but the heat between them couldn’t be satisfied with softness. She tightened her arms and reached her fingers into his hair as she deepened the kiss.
His mouth opened to hers as his hands pulled her even closer to him. Their tongues danced in a wild match and left her breathless. “Well then big, strong, hockey player.” She sucked in a necessary breath. “You know your way through my house. Why don’t you carry me down the hall.”
“If I do that, we’ll end up in your bedroom,” he teased as he hoisted her to his hips and she wrapped her legs around his hard body.
“Who said jocks weren’t smart?”
This was the man she loved. The man who had driven her away and whose memory had driven her into the arms of another. As they tumbled onto the bed, she wondered just how hard she was going to fall. After all, giving her heart to him this time was an all-or-nothing venture. There was no backing away, no giving up, and she’d fight for what was hers and she wasn’t going to let go.
CHAPTER TEN
They spent the better part of the afternoon getting reacquainted. After he closed down the rink, he came back to her place and they spent the rest of the night locked in one another’s arms.
It was better than Malory could have ever imagined. Christopher Douglas was in her bed sleeping soundly, his body molded to hers, his arm draped over her. She’d come back to Aspen Creek to be comforted. Her plan was to have her family around her. Her father and Maggie would keep her grounded, and she’d forget about her mistakes and what they’d cost her. Never would she have imagined she’d fall in love again. Now she was certainly feeling comforted.
When she rose he was still in her bed. She made a pot of coffee and stood in the doorway, sipping from her mug and watching him sleep. The silvery glow from the moon surrounded him like a blanket. The man whose eyes, when open, twinkled with mischief, looked peaceful—angelic. Malory let out a soft laugh. Angelic—her angel—her guardian angel.
She wanted desperately to crawl back into bed with him, but with the Christmas Festival only a week away, she had twice as many orders as she would normally. It was no wonder Esther wanted out as quickly as she had.
Malory went about getting ready for her day. She dressed simply in a pair of comfortable jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She pulled her hair up into a tail and set out into the bitter cold of the early morning armed with her mug of coffee and warm memories of the night with Christopher.
It wasn’t until she cleared the wooded lane at the base of the mountain that she noticed the town had transformed into a quaint Christmas village. She’d been so preoccupied with being mad at Christopher and getting the bakery in order, she hadn’t noticed that every merchant had twinkling lights in the windows and wreaths on the doors. There was a Christmas tree on almost every corner, and the lot across from Maggie’s restaurant was filled with evergreens for sale.
A soft dusting of snow fell on her windshield as she pulled into the bakery parking lot. How many people were able to witness such beauty at four in the morning? Not too many, because not too many people lived in Aspen Creek.
The lights twinkled on the tree on Christmas Island. It caught her eye as she shut the door to the Jeep. Despite the bitter chill she walked toward the back of the building to look out at the frozen lake. What a sight it was.
She took a deep breath of crisp air and walked back to unlock the building and get ready for her day.
Christopher woke to her scent. Hadn’t he spent the better part of fifteen years dreaming about her sharing his bed—or hers as it had happened. He was sure it was just another dream, but when he pulled her pillow to him, it was undoubtedly not a dream. It was a dream come true.
It was a dream he didn’t want to wake from.
The scent of coffee stirred him from bed. When he got to the kitchen he found the coffee had gone cold. He’d
be better go to his place, make a fresh pot, take a shower, and decide what the next move with Wil was going to be. After all, he had no intention of letting her turn down his proposal when he asked again. And he was thinking hard about asking again. Soon.
The coffee was brewed when he stepped out of the shower. He dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. With his hair still wet he stood on his porch and looked out over the frozen lake. The morning sun reflected off the surface and he shielded his eyes. He’d lived different places and awoke in many more, but none of them compared to morning in Aspen Creek.
Malory had just finished packing up her morning’s orders when the door opened and the bakery filled with frigid air. The smile on Christopher’s face was more than enough to warm her.
She dusted off her hands on her apron and hurried to him, planting a noisy kiss smack on his lips. “I was hoping you’d stop by.”
“Hard to clear my head of you.” He brushed aside a piece of hair that had fallen from the tail, tucking it behind her ear. “I got a phone call this morning. It looks like our Aspen Creek all-star game has sold out.”
A gasp escaped her, followed by joyous laughter as she jumped into his arms.
“Oh, Chris, that’s wonderful!”
“It’ll save the rink. It will literally give us a few more good years.”
“I’m so happy for you. Dad must be ecstatic.”
“I haven’t told him yet. I’m on my way now.”
His voice trailed off, and she watched him dip his head.
Malory rested her hands on his chest. “Everything okay?”
“Sure. Hey, listen, I really need to get in some ice time before I throw myself out on the ice with all those maniacs.” He let out a forced laugh. “So I’m going to stay at the rink a little later tonight, but”—he pulled her to him tighter—“I like what we’ve got going and I don’t want to sleep in my bed alone again. Would you consider an arrangement?”
“An arrangement?”
“Yeah, wherever I sleep you’re there, and wherever you sleep I’ll be there.”
She couldn’t help the smile that slipped over her lips. She’d never wanted anything more. “Considering I’ll be in bed long before you will, why don’t you find your way into my bed tonight? I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”
“I promise, I’ll hurry home to you.”
He kissed her once more before he left the bakery. After he left, Malory stood with her back against the door and breathed deeply. He was hurrying home to her.
That should scare her to death, especially after the way she’d acted when he’d asked her to marry him. But suddenly the thought of him coming home to her didn’t scare her at all. It thrilled her to the point of laughter.
She was head over heels in love with Christopher Douglas and always had been. It was time she admitted it and let love take its course.
Her deliveries were finished well before breakfast. She could afford time to sit at Maggie’s at the end of the rush and maybe enjoy some good conversation.
Maggie poured a cup of coffee and set it at the empty stool. She gave Malory a nod as she placed the box of rolls on the prep table and then hung up her coat.
A moment later Maggie put a plate of pancakes covered in strawberries in front of her.
“You look like pancakes would suit you.”
“Do I?”
“Christopher had a grin on his face to match yours.” Maggie lifted a brow and Malory tucked in her smile.
“Did he?”
“The two of you. Neither of you is going to say anything, are you?”
“There are still some things not for a mother’s ears.”
Maggie snorted out a laugh.
Malory picked up her mug of coffee and sipped as a man took the stool next to her.
Maggie pulled out another mug and sat it down in front of the man. She filled it with coffee. “Mornin’.”
“Good morning, Ms. Douglas. How are you this fine day?”
Maggie’s brows rose. “I’m quite well.
“I called in an order. Little Samantha took it over the phone.”
“I’ll check on it.”
Maggie walked away and the man turned his head toward Malory. She felt his stare and with a mouth full of pancakes, she lifted her gaze to see him smiling at her. He was an older gentleman with snow-white hair and a long white beard, which were accented by his red sweatshirt. His cheeks wore the pink of the temperature outside. His eyes were a mesmerizing blue that took her breath away.
He gave her a nod. “Malory, how are you?”
She cleared her throat, trying to remember who the man was. He must have been from Aspen Creek to know her name. “I’m fine. How are you?”
“Oh, it’s a beautiful day outside. Christmas is just around the corner, and the children are all on their very best behavior. The missus was just saying how there would be snow on Christmas Eve. Makes the trip easier, don’t you think?”
All Malory could do was nod slowly and stick another bite of pancake in her mouth.
Maggie came back out from the kitchen with a white paper bag. She set it down in front of the man who occupied the stool next to her. “Here you go. One and a half dozen chocolate-chip cookies.”
“Oh, Ms. Douglas.” He patted her hand. “You are a doll. I heard you get the first batch of these every morning from this little one here.” The man reached over to Malory and pinched her cheek.
Malory stopped chewing. Little one?
He slid her money over the counter and winked. “Good day, ladies.”
“Have a good one.”
As the man waddled to the door, he dug his hand into the sack and pulled out a cookie. He took a bite and then turned back around. “Oh, Malory, you might think about putting together a Christmas wish list. You’re never too old to want something special.” He gave a wave and walked out the door.
Maggie tucked the money into her apron as Malory stared after the man. “Wil, close your mouth.”
She guessed it was because of her mood, but her day flew without a hitch and she stood alone in the sparkling cleanliness of the bakery at two in the afternoon. What better way to end her day than to go by and give Christopher a big, wet kiss, then head home and watch some silly black-and-white movie on TV with a fire in the fireplace?
Christopher was in the office when she got there. Her father was behind him looking at a stack of papers strung out on the desktop. Both men had creases in their foreheads and their eyes were narrow studying the paper. She wanted to laugh at how alike they were. No wonder she loved one; he was so like the other man she loved.
“Wil.” Her father’s voice stirred her. “What a nice surprise.”
Christopher looked up at her and a smile slid over his lips. Her belly did a little flip and her skin grew warm.
“I had some cookies left over. I thought you might like some.”
“I’d love one.” Harvey walked around the desk and took the bag from her, kissing her on the cheek. “I think I have some milk in the kitchen. That’s the only thing that would make this better.” He walked out of the office, and Christopher stood.
“You came to just bring cookies?”
“Oh no. I really wanted to kiss you.”
“That’s my girl.” He walked around the desk, scooped her up in his arms, and planted a kiss on her that shook her very core.
“Yep, that’s what I was looking for.”
He set her back on her feet. She studied his face. Worry lingered in his eyes. A weight grew in that very core that he’d shaken with his kiss. It was love, true love that made someone hurt when the one she loved hurt. She didn’t want to disturb him with questions, so she fought off the urge to ask. But she worried about him—for him. She loved him.
“I’ll see you at home later.”
“Count on it.”
Malory turned to leave and ran right into a long-legged blonde shuffling in high-heeled boots along the concrete. “I’m sorry.”
The woma
n blew out a breath. “Where’s Chris Douglas?”
“Who’s asking?” Malory crossed her arms over her chest.
“Who are you?”
Knowing this was probably a “surprise” from LeBlanc should’ve helped Malory keep her composure. But it was easier in theory than in practice. She cocked her head and fisted her hands on her hips. “Let me guess. Are you Mercedes? Or are you Shelby?”
The woman’s jaw dropped.
Christopher hurried out of the office and stood behind Malory. She felt his hand touch the small of her back.
The woman shot up a shaky finger. “I want a word with you.”
“Have one.”
“I . . . I . . .” she stammered as if she were drunk.
“That’s quite a word.” Malory took a step forward. “Here are a few more. Why don’t you tell Mr. LeBlanc to keep his ladies for himself. Mr. Douglas is spoken for.” She turned to Christopher, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss that would melt the ice in the rink. “He’s off the market. Pass the word around,” she said as she pushed Christopher into the office and shut the door without looking back.
He had a grin on his face—not a sexy smile, a grin—and it lit his eyes. “You kicked her where it counted, didn’t you?”
“Think he’ll get the message?”
“Honey, I think you spoke loud and clear.”
That was what she wanted. This was her turf and Christopher was her man. No second-rate hockey player and his three bimbos were going to take what was hers. And Christopher Douglas and his heart and his silly grin—they belonged to her.
Malory had nestled into the couch, her feet cozy in fuzzy socks. The fire crackled in the fireplace, and Cary Grant smiled that fantastic, classic smile from the television. All she needed to enjoy the night was Christopher cuddled up on the couch with her. And maybe a dog, but that would be something to think about if they got a bigger place.
She stopped herself and let that thought settle. She was thinking in terms of them and they. Was she ready for that? After all, she’d all but punched him when he asked her to marry him. Then again, he was the one asking her never to let him sleep alone again.
On Thin Ice Page 13
