Yours By Christmas: Park City Firefighter Romance

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Yours By Christmas: Park City Firefighter Romance Page 7

by Jennifer Youngblood


  Beckett laughed. “How about tomorrow?”

  Ava felt like she was cresting the incline of a rollercoaster, about to rush headfirst on the greatest thrill ride of her life. “I’d like that.”

  He placed his arms around her, pulling her close. “There, that’s better. You can keep me warm.”

  “Wait a minute.” She pulled back and opened her coat, attempting to put the sides of it around Beckett. He slid his arms around her waist. Anticipation danced out a wild beat against her chest. Was this really happening? She lifted her face to his, drinking in the exhilaration of his nearness. In the shadow of the street lamp, the outline of his jaw resembled granite. Tonight, he was more Superman than Spiderman—all grown up and larger-than-life. She parted her lips expectantly, welcoming his touch. His jaw brushed against hers, his stubble tickling her skin with a tantalizing persuasion. Passion swirled around Ava, engulfing her in a heady cloud as their lips began a sensuous dance of give and take. Her insides melted with pleasure as she reveled in his closeness.

  All too soon, Beckett pulled away. Ava could tell he’d held back. She appreciated his reserve, knew it was the right thing. Still, she craved more of him. She wanted to run her fingers through his messy hair, explore the defined muscles in his back. She wanted to kiss him with reckless abandon until there was nothing left in the world but the two of them.

  He motioned with his head. “We’ve got an audience.”

  Ava looked toward the front window. The blinds moved slightly. “Jazzie?” Color rushed to her cheeks. She couldn’t help but chuckle. “She’s something.”

  “Yep, she’s something, all right,” he responded dryly. He flashed a hopeful smile. “Tomorrow, then?”

  “Yes,” she said exuberantly. “Where should we meet?”

  The corners of his lips turned down. “I was thinking I could pick you up.”

  He couldn’t know where she lived. Not yet. She laughed lightly. “I have a few client meetings scheduled. One at eleven. Another at four. I’ll be out and about. I can meet you somewhere around six. How does that sound?” She knew how rushed her words sounded, feared he could see right through her and would know she was hiding something.

  He masked his disappointment with a smile. “Sure. I suppose I’ve gotten spoiled with my work schedule. Forty-eight hours on and four days off. I forget that everyone else works five days a week.”

  “Yeah, most of the time I can be flexible, since I work for myself. It’s just when I have set appointments …” Her voice trailed off.

  “I understand.”

  “What’re we doing tomorrow?”

  His eyes glittered. “It’s a surprise.”

  “A surprise, huh? I like surprises.”

  She loved how his gaze moved over her face, like he was memorizing every detail. “I had fun tonight.”

  “Me too.”

  “Until tomorrow then.”

  She touched his cheek, her fingers lingering on the firm plane of his jaw. “I’ll text you when I’m done and we can decide where to meet.”

  He helped her into her car and closed the door. As she drove away, she glanced in the rearview mirror, hardly believing that they’d actually kissed! She touched her lips, still feeling the burn of his on hers. She could only imagine what her grandfather would say if he could see her right now. The thought sent misgivings rushing through her. She’d not meant to get close to Beckett, yet she wanted this. These feelings … they were more than mere infatuation. The Beckett of her daydreams had been replaced by the living, breathing version who was a thousand times more awesome than she could’ve ever imagined.

  “Until tomorrow,” she said aloud as she headed for home.

  Conflicting feelings warred in Beckett’s gut as he watched Ava drive away. On the one hand, he was riding high from the kiss. Wow! She’d lit a fire in him that left him wanting more. She was an angel—intoxicating. Not only was she incredibly beautiful, but more importantly, she seemed like a good person. She’d fit in well with his mom and Jazzie. Apprehension tugged at him. On the other hand, he got the distinct feeling that Ava was hiding something. Last night at the bowling alley, she said she’d just meet him here to make cookies. He was disappointed but didn’t think too much of it. He and Ava had just met. He figured she was being cautious, not jumping into a vehicle with a guy she barely knew. Tonight when he offered to pick her up, she’d danced around the topic again. He could feel her nervousness, knew there was something she wasn’t telling him. Why didn’t she want him to go to her home? A chill ran through him. Was she married? Surely not! His heart pounded out a sickly beat against his ribcage as he balled his fists. This was ridiculous! Getting so worked up over the hypothetical. Ava seemed like a good person. He could feel that about her. He needed to hold to that feeling. He dismissed the misgivings, refusing to let his fears get the best of him.

  Every time something good happened in his life, Beckett grew uneasy, wondering when the other shoe would drop. He glanced towards the front window. Yes, Jazzie was spying on them, the little stinker! However, that wasn’t the only reason Beckett held back. The truth was—he was afraid to embark on another relationship. What if the pressure became too great, like it had before? He couldn’t go down that dark path again. It would destroy him.

  Of course, that was different. It had been the combination of his high-stress work environment and failing marriage that drove him to drink. Still. He wasn’t sure if he was up for another relationship. Maybe he’d never be ready. Coward! his mind screamed. Hadn’t he just thought yesterday how he wanted to find someone? The Fruitcake Lady’s words came rushing back. She’d said he would find love by Christmas. Was that what this was? The beginnings of love? Christmas was two weeks and one day away.

  As he turned back toward the house, a prayer rose in his chest. He didn’t pray to find love. No, despite what the Fruitcake Lady said about God not keeping score, he didn’t feel like he could pray for that. Rather, he prayed for clarity to make sense of his feelings. He was grateful for the sense of peace that immediately came, wrapping him like a warm blanket. This thing with Ava. It was a good thing. He could feel it. He squared his jaw, resolving to hold onto the feelings of calm and keep moving in the right direction.

  Tomorrow, he’d go out with Ava again, see how things went. Even as the thoughts flitted through his mind, an unexpected feeling of certainty flooded through him. Whatever Ava was hiding, she was still good. He could feel it, knew it as well as he knew his own breathing.

  Things would go well with Ava. Even though they’d just met and were starting their relationship, it was real. More real and lasting than anything he’d ever known before.

  As he stepped inside, Jazzie was waiting for him, an impish grin on her lips. “It went well, huh?”

  He laughed and tousled her hair. “Yes, very well.” He shot her a reproving look, a note of tenderness coming into his voice. “You wretched, little spy.”

  “Who me?” she asked innocently. “I didn’t see a thing.” Her eyes radiated laughter as she made a smooching motion with her lips.

  “Uh, huh,” he countered, ruffling her hair.

  She drew back. “Hey, you’re frizzing my curls,” she protested, scrunching her nose.

  He laughed. “Come on. Let’s go help clean up the mess from the cookies.”

  Her face caved. “Do we have to?”

  “Yes, we do,” he laughed, putting his arm around her shoulders as they walked towards the kitchen.

  Chapter 5

  When Ava pulled up to the private drive leading to the mansion, she pressed in the familiar code as the gates swung open. She jerked as she drove through, realizing another car had pulled in behind her, close on her tail. Who could be coming to the mansion this time of the night? Ted or Libby? She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, hoping she wouldn’t have to deal with either of them tonight.

  Ever since her grandfather passed, Ted and Libby had been breathing down her and Houston’s necks, demanding to know
the terms of their father’s will. Surprise, surprise. There was no will, but a living trust, which would keep everything private and succinct. Houston, her grandfather’s attorney, met with Ted and Libby at 2 p.m. earlier today to discuss the terms of their personal inheritances. Had he also gone over the no contest clause surrounding the living trust? All day long, Ava had expected to receive angry phone calls from Ted and Libby. Surprisingly, however, no calls had come. Maybe that’s because they wanted to attack her in person.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror. The headlights were glaring. From her vantage point, it seemed like they were inches from her bumper. She flipped her rearview mirror up so the blinding lights wouldn’t be directly in her eyes. The farther she got down the long drive, the madder she became. Ted and Libby got a decent inheritance, the same amount as Ava. Why couldn’t they be satisfied with that? Ted still had his CEO position at the company where he was paid a salary close to 500K a year and that didn’t include his bonuses. Libby’s husband Bill was the CFO of the company. He was also paid very well. They were all vultures with an insatiable appetite for money, which is why her grandfather refused to leave any of them his trust. He wanted it to go to someone who was responsible, someone who would look past his own needs and wants to see the value of others.

  The mansion came into view. She pulled into the driveway, following it alongside the mansion to the back of the seven-car garage where she hit the clicker and opened the door on the far left, driving in. She left the garage door open as she got out of her car and strode around the back of it, preparing herself for battle.

  She frowned when she realized who was coming towards her. “Wesley? What’re you doing here?”

  “Hey, Ava.” He touched her arm. “I called you a few times, but you didn’t answer.”

  She ignored the accusation in his voice, discreetly pulling her arm away.

  “Where’ve you been?”

  She didn’t appreciate the possessiveness of his tone. Straightening to her full height, she looked him in the eye. “That’s none of your business.”

  He rocked back, his jaw going slack. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I was just worried about you.” The overhead lights reflected off his blonde hair and handsome face, emphasizing the concern etched over his features. A year ago when Wesley first came to work for her grandfather’s company as the marketing director, Ava was enamored by his stunning good looks and charm. As the two of them got to know each other, however, she realized that there was no spark. All Wesley would ever be to her was a friend. In contrast to Beckett, he seemed soft and over-polished; his movie-star looks a little too much for her taste. A Harvard Business School graduate, Wesley had been recruited by her grandfather and relocated to Salt Lake City from New York. A genius at marketing, Wesley had been a huge help to the company and a close friend of her grandfather’s.

  She relaxed, letting out a breath. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. It’s been a long day.” A long, wonderful day with Beckett. Maybe that was part of the reason she was disgruntled that Wesley was here. Before seeing the headlights, she’d been wrapped in the thrilling memory of Beckett’s kiss. Now, she was back down to earth, dealing with the fallout from her grandfather’s death. And, Wesley’s over-protective tendencies.

  He gave her a searching look. “I’ve missed you.”

  The whiny edge in his voice had the same effect on her as a fingernail scratching down metal. “Wesley.” A nervous laugh escaped her throat. Geez. She didn’t want to do this tonight, but there seemed to be no way around it.

  “You look beautiful,” he blurted, “as always.”

  His puppy-dog expression made Ava feel sick. She didn’t want to hurt Wesley, but there seemed to be no way around it. She never should’ve let her guard down and cried on his shoulder. She should’ve been strong, held her ground.

  Wesley suppressed a shiver. “It’s cold out here. Mind if I come in?” His eyes smiled. “We can make some hot chocolate, watch a movie.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m tired.”

  “All right. I’ll come back tomorrow morning, take you to that French café you love downtown.”

  She pulled her coat tighter around her, searching for the right words to let him down easy. “Wesley, please know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, especially during the funeral.”

  “Of course.” An adoring smile glowed on his face. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

  “You’ve been a wonderful friend.” She forced out the rest. “But, friends are all we’ll ever be.”

  His face fell. “After everything we’ve been through together, I thought—”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.” The words fell out between them like heavy bricks. She took in a breath. “I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t do this, Ava. I know you love me. You just need time to figure things out.”

  A humorless laugh rattled her throat. There was no easy way, better to just come out with it. “No, Wesley, I don’t need time. As much as I hate to say it, I am not in love with you. All the two of us will ever be is friends.” How many times did she have to repeat the same phrase for him to finally understand?

  His expression hardened. “This is about that firefighter, isn’t it?”

  She jerked, her stomach dropping. “What?”

  “I saw you with him tonight, kissing him,” he uttered in disgust.

  Shivers went down Ava’s spine. She clenched her jaw. “Were you spying on me?”

  He barked out a laugh. “No, I wasn’t spying. I was checking on you. There’s a difference.” His voice hardened. “Let’s go in and talk about this.”

  No way was she letting Wesley into her house. From here on out, it was doubtful that the two of them could even be friends. She glanced around, realizing she was out here alone with Wesley. Bridgett and Mac, the couple who oversaw the mansion, were probably asleep by now.

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” she heaved through clenched teeth. “You had no right to follow me.”

  He sneered. “You and some fireman? Get real.” His voice grew musing. “Is this the one that your grandfather was fascinated with? The one who saved the kid from the fire? Milton followed his life for some time.” He gave her a checkmate look. “Didn’t think I knew about that little pet project, huh?”

  “It’s late, and I’m tired.” Her voice sounded as weary as she felt.

  He caught hold of her arm. “Ava! I won’t let that guy come between us!”

  An incredulous laugh rose in her throat. “When are you gonna get it through your thick head? There is no us, Wesley!”

  “You’re confused, letting your grandfather’s fancies color your judgement.” He tightened his hold on her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh. For a wiry, thin guy, he was surprisingly strong.

  The hair on the back of her neck rose. There was no one to come to her rescue. “Let go of my arm,” she demanded, her voice rising.

  Wesley’s eyes narrowed to black slits. For a second, Ava thought he might refuse, but finally, he released her arms and held up his hands. “You’re making a big mistake,” he seethed.

  She bristled, her anger giving her courage. “Is that a threat?”

  He looked at her for one long, agonizing moment before he spoke. “No,” he said sadly, his shoulders sagging. “I would never threaten you. I love you.” A regretful smile stretched over his lips. “I’m just sorry you don’t feel the same way.”

  “Me too.” She meant it with all her heart.

  “I guess that’s that, huh?”

  The finality of his tone brought with it a swift rush of relief. “Yes,” she said softly.

  He touched her cheek, his eyes going soft. “Good night, Ava.”

  She fought the urge to draw back from his touch. “Good night.”

  He turned on his heel and walked briskly to his car, driving off.

  Ava
hurried inside. She didn’t let out a breath until the garage door was closed and she was safely inside the mansion. Her mind whirled. The exchange with Wesley was odd. He knew about Beckett. Then again, in a few days, it wouldn’t matter what Wesley knew. Her thoughts went back to Wesley’s behavior. One minute, he was angry and belligerent. The next, he was wounded, placating. Did she need to be worried for her safety? Wesley had followed her, watched her and Beckett kiss. A shiver ran down her spine as she hugged her arms. She felt so violated. Her heart lurched. Was that how Beckett would feel when he learned the truth?

  Without warning, tears sprang to her eyes. Oh, how she missed her grandfather. She wished he was here to help guide her through all that was coming. Hastily, she swiped the tears away with her palms as she trudged up the curved staircase to her bedroom, wanting nothing more than to snuggle in her bed and get a good night’s sleep.

  As Beckett walked past the food booths at the Christmas festival, he caught a whiff of cinnamon and cloves, mingled with the fresh scent of spiced apple cider. The aroma of baking bread enveloped his senses, causing his mouth to water. Were he not supposed to meet Ava by the large Christmas tree in five minutes, he might’ve been tempted to stop and purchase a loaf.

  He wove his way through the crowd of people toward the center area and tree. His eye caught on the white lights of the tree at the same time he heard singing from the choir. He stood, watching the performance as he waited for Ava to arrive. Ten minutes later, she still wasn’t here. He pulled out his phone to see if she’d sent him a text. Nothing. Apprehension snaked down his spine. Was Ava standing him up? He’d thought of little else other than Ava since last night, looking forward to the moment when they’d meet. He sent her a text.

  Hey, I’m at the festival by the tree. Are you still coming? I hope everything is okay.

  It was a clear night, but bone cold. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea, after all. Ava probably hated the cold. Last night, she seemed to have had a great time. He saw the longing on her face when he ended the kiss prematurely, felt her excitement over meeting him tonight. Or, maybe not. Was it possible that he’d misread the signs?

 

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