The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and I heard the sound of fast, tiny feet. I was already grinning when a tousled head of curls appeared around the corner and Noelle’s mischievous smile beamed at me from across the room. Her green eyes, so like her mother’s, were dancing as she peeked at me, not making a sound, waiting for me to encourage her to come closer.
Without a thought, I opened my arms. An affectionate nickname rolled off my tongue, surprising me, but it suited her.
“Hey, Little Owl.”
She giggled, her little feet thumping against the hardwood floor as she rushed forward. Wearing a one-piece set of fuzzy pajamas with feet attached and clutching a container of something, she flung herself at me and I caught her, settling her on my knee.
“Are you supposed to be out of bed?”
“No.”
“Where is Seth?”
“Sweeping.”
“I see.”
“He ’posed ta be doing homewok, but he fawed asweep,” she explained. “I knocked on your doow, but you not dere. I come and find you,” she added proudly.
“What do you have there?” I asked, indicating the container.
She grinned, showing off the empty space in her mouth. She was so adorable when she smiled. “Mommy and I made cookies. I share wif you.”
I sat up straighter. Cookies? I couldn’t remember the last time I had cookies.
“What kind?”
She lifted the lid. “Suga.”
I groaned and looked in the container, my eyes widening. The cookies were all gone. I had eaten nine cookies. Nine sugar cookies. And, after raiding the refrigerator, downed two glasses of milk. Noelle had nibbled one cookie and sipped the glass of milk I poured her. She sat beside me on the sofa, her legs tucked under her, telling me all about her day in her lispy, breathless voice. I heard about pizza day, her best friend Lucy, how much she loved to “dwaw,” and her “favowite teacha, Mrs. Webba.”
I found it surprisingly easy to understand her, even with her strange speech patterns. Maybe it was because I wanted to hear what she had to say. I found her completely enchanting. She was beyond delighted when I told her how much I liked her favorite supper of Tater Tot Casserole, informing me she had “hepped Mommy make it.”
“I puts on da tots, Dywan!”
I found a blanket on the back of a chair and draped it over her. She talked nonstop, pointing at the TV and asking questions about the hockey game, which I tried to explain to her. She yawned and stretched, clearly tired, and I smiled down at her.
“You should go to bed, Little Owl.”
She shook her head no. “I wait hewe, wif you, fo Mommy.”
“Seth might wake up and worry.”
She giggled, shaking her head once more. “No. He sweeps yike da dead, Mommy thay.”
I chuckled and leaned over, grabbing a pillow. I laid it on my lap and patted the fabric. “Lie down and watch the game with me, then.”
She snuggled down, and I drew the blanket around her shoulders, not wanting her to get cold. I glanced at my watch and frowned. I couldn’t believe Alex was still out. The wind was stronger, and snow had started falling.
“Do you know where Mommy went, Noelle?”
“Da pwane pwace,” she mumbled sleepily.
I frowned. Plane place? My heart started to pound. She was at the airport? My gaze flew to the window where the snow swirled and the wind flung it against the glass. She was driving in that weather?
I glanced down, but Noelle was asleep. I started flipping channels, wanting to find the local news, fear filling my chest. Was she out on the highway? The news channel talked about the worsening conditions, the storm hitting harder and faster than expected.
Carefully, I slipped Noelle’s head off my knee and stood, looking out the window. Thick, heavy snow was falling, the wind kicking it around. The tree branches were already laden with the weight. I peered toward the parking lot. I could barely make out the shape of the lone car sitting in the corner. I began to pace, tugging on my hair, unsure what to do. I couldn’t go find her—I had no way of doing so. I didn’t know whom to call. I couldn’t even call Alex since I didn’t know if she had a cell phone, or if she did, I had no idea of her number.
I glanced toward the elevator. If she had one, Seth would have the number. I had to try to find her. Make sure she was safe. I hurried forward, pressing the elevator button. As I stepped in, I heard the crunch of tires on snow and raced to the front, fumbling with the lock and flinging open the door.
Alex stepped from the van, looking exhausted, and somewhat alarmed. Her eyes widened as she took in my frantic appearance standing in the doorway. “Dylan?”
I was in front of her in three strides, ignoring the snow and the wet seeping into my shoes. I dragged her into my arms and lifted her up. “Thank God you’re back safe.”
“Dylan, it’s snowing and you have no coat!”
Without releasing her, I pivoted and entered the inn, shutting the door firmly behind me. Setting her on her feet, I pushed the damp hair off her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It took me longer to get back—the storm hit earlier than I anticipated.”
“Why were you on the roads?”
She frowned. “Two guests had to get to the airport. They wanted to get away before the storm socked them in. I couldn’t get a driver to take them, so I had to.”
She shivered, and I unzipped her coat, pushing it off her shoulders. I pulled her toward the fireplace and pushed her into the chair beside it. I grabbed her hands, rubbing them briskly. “Where are your gloves?”
She looked down. “Oh. I lost them when I was checking the tire.”
“Checking the tire?” I hissed.
“Something felt off with the van, so I pulled over to check I wasn’t getting a flat.” She shrugged. “It was just ice buildup. I guess after I cleaned the tires, my gloves must have dropped out of my pocket.”
I stood and pulled at my hair.
“What’s wrong?”
I turned sharply, leaning down, my hands on the arms of her chair, effectively pinning her in. “You risked your life to drive some people to the airport in a snowstorm, you left your kids here, and you didn’t tell me you were going! No one knew where you were!”
She stared at me, blinking.
“You could have had an accident! Been hurt! All to please a couple of guests who wanted to leave, despite all the weather warnings? What were you thinking?”
She glared up at me, placing her hand on my chest, pushing me back—hard. She stood, her eyes narrowed. “First off, I’ve driven that route countless times, Dylan. I have all-wheel drive in the van and winter tires. Second, they weren’t normal guests. They were some of our best customers who give us lots of business, and I knew they had somewhere to be tomorrow. If I’d had any other choice, I would have chosen it, but I didn’t. As it was, they might not even get out since the storm hit sooner than we expected.”
I started to speak, but she held up her hand. “Susan knew I was going to the airport, and if I had any problem, she would have been my contact. She would have come back to the inn to look after the kids if I needed her.” She huffed. “I drove slow which is why I was gone so long, and I’m back safe and sound. I didn’t say anything to you because, you, Mr. Maxwell, are a guest, and I would have no reason to inform you of my whereabouts since I wasn’t aware you would care. Did you get your dinner?”
A guest? Didn’t care?
She only thought of me as a guest?
That upset me, although I wasn’t sure why.
“Yes,” I said shortly. “Seth brought me my dinner.”
“Are you down here because you’ve drunk all your own brandy?”
“I wanted to watch the hockey game. The TV in the bar is bigger.”
Her gaze took in the TV, and she noticed her daughter curled up on the sofa. “Why is Noelle down here?”
I snorted. “Your babysitter failed again. He fell asleep.”
�
�And?” she demanded.
“Your daughter was looking for company. She came to find me and found her way downstairs. Rather than send her upstairs alone again, I let her fall asleep here—with me.” Still smarting from her remark about me only being a guest, I added, “It interrupted my evening, but I let her stay anyway.”
“She was bothering you?”
“Seth isn’t exactly the most reliable caregiver, it seems. And neither of your children know much about boundaries, do they? She just shows up and . . . injects herself,” I muttered, instantly regretting my words when her face paled.
Brushing past me, she gathered up Noelle in her arms. “I apologize. Thank you for sitting with her and being so kind. I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you again. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and I’ll be down in a while to turn off the lights.”
“Alex . . .”
Her voice was cool. “Is there anything you need, Mr. Maxwell? Something I can get you before you retire for the night?”
“No.”
I watched her walk away, her head up, shoulders back. Leaning down, she punched the call button for the elevator. The doors slid open and she stepped inside. Our gazes met, and the sadness I saw in hers made my chest ache.
I put that sadness there.
The doors shut before I could apologize.
I TOSSED AND TURNED ALL night. The image of Alex’s sad eyes kept running through my head. Twice, I had started down the hall to knock on her door before I retired for the night, but I thought better of it. I needed to talk to her in private and at length—not in the hall with her kids listening, and not when she was already tired and upset.
I got up later than normal and got ready for the day. The inn was quiet, the storm outside still going, but not as fierce as last evening. I knew I wasn’t going anywhere today. I was determined to speak with Alex and apologize for my harsh words.
The front lobby was deserted, the fire burning low as I walked through, wondering where everyone was. I stopped and added a log, stifling a grin when I realized Seth had passed out on the sofa, softly snoring. He certainly loved to sleep. His hair was damp, as were the bottom of his pants. I guessed he’d been out shoveling snow. His boots were sitting on the mantel; I pushed them a little closer to the fire so they’d dry out—the way it was snowing out there, he’d be out a lot today. I lifted one up, noticing how worn-out it was. He really needed the new pair I’d bought him. With a frown, I placed it back beside its mate, wondering if Alex would let me give them to him. If she would accept any of the gifts I had bought.
I walked into the bar area, pleased when I saw the coffee was ready. Alex made great coffee. I grabbed a cup and strolled to the window, looking out at the storm. The trees were heavy with snow, even their strong limbs bending under the weight. The wind blew and gusted, the entire world white and blurry with the non-ending swirls.
I turned back, surprised to see the little figure in the corner. Noelle was busy coloring, her head down, shoulders hunched, her curls covering her face. I cleared my throat, waiting for her usual exuberant greeting, frowning when she glanced up, offering a trace of a smile, then lowering her head to her coloring again. I crossed the room and sat down beside her, setting down my coffee cup.
“Morning, Little Owl.”
“Hi, Mista Dywan,” she replied, her voice subdued. She went back to coloring, although her actions were less than enthusiastic.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“Yeth.”
I leaned forward, not liking the sad version of my little girl. “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“Noelle, look at me, please.”
She glanced up, her eyes unhappy and troubled.
I searched my mind, trying to figure out what was upsetting her.
“Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?”
She shook her head. “Not you, Dywan.”
“What does that mean?”
“I-I not ’posed to bovver you.”
“Bother me?”
“Mommy thaid I bovvered you. I ’posed to be a good gul today and pway by myself.”
Immediately, I knew Alex had taken my words to heart. My rude, thoughtless words. They had hurt her, and she was trying to protect her daughter.
“Noelle, little one, you’re not bothering me.”
“I not?”
“No. I promise.”
“But Mommy thaid . . .”
I smiled at her. “I’ll talk to Mommy. You go back to being my Noelle, okay?”
The sadness vanished instantly, her delightful smile lighting her face. “You wanna cowwa wif me?”
I swallowed—I really had no idea how to color. Then I looked at the paper she was filling in and realized I could probably handle it. I was unsure what the image was she was creating, or if there was really an image there. It did kind of resemble something Christmassy with its holiday colors.
“Sure.”
Then, to make sure she knew everything was okay, I leaned over and picked her up, settling her on my lap. She giggled and pulled her paper and crayons over, immediately lapsing into her usual chatter, her strange little lisp making me smile. I sipped my coffee, nodding and listening intently to her words, making out most of them. When she leaned back to my chest, tilting her head up as she grinned and laughed about her reindeer picture, I felt an intense wave of tenderness flow through me. The strange sensation of protectiveness I’d been feeling for Alex welled up for Noelle as well—I had even felt the tug of it as I watched Seth slumber. Feelings I had never felt for another person were strong for the entire family.
Alex came through the door, her arms filled with laundry. She stopped when she saw Noelle and me, a frown marring her face.
“Noelle,” she began in a firm voice, “what did I tell you this morning?”
I held up my hand. “She’s fine, Alex. We’re fine.”
Her shoulders were tense, and she looked exhausted. I lifted Noelle off my knee and placed her in my chair. I dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “You keep coloring, okay, Little Owl? I need to talk to Mommy.”
“Otay.”
I approached Alex, who was watching me warily.
“May I speak with you in private?”
She hesitated.
“Please, Alex.”
She nodded. “I’m going to put this in the laundry and start your breakfast. We can talk in the kitchen.”
“Thank you.”
I entered the kitchen, waiting for her. She walked in, looking resigned and anxious. Before she could say a word, I reached out and dragged her into my arms. She stiffened in shock, trying to step back. Pressing my hand to the middle of her back, I held her tight.
“I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that last night. I didn’t mean it. Honestly. My Little Owl isn’t a bother. Neither is Seth. None of you are.”
“But you said it.”
“I was so worried about you. I didn’t know where you were or how to find you. The thought of you being hurt . . .” I swallowed hard. “I was an ass. Mrs. C would tell you, when I’m upset, I’m more of an ass than normal.”
“That’s a lot of ass,” she mumbled.
A chuckle escaped my mouth. “It is. Even Noelle picked up on that.”
She relaxed into my embrace, tilting up her head. Our eyes met and held.
“Why do you care so much?”
I slipped my hand up her neck, feeling the satin of her skin as I cupped her cheek. “I don’t know. I just do.”
“I can’t . . .”
“Don’t, Alex. Don’t shut me out.”
“Dylan,” she whispered. “This can’t work. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of woman, and you live hundreds of miles away. Live a different life from what I do. I have responsibilities, children . . . I can’t just . . .” She shook her head. “I just can’t.”
“Alex, I feel something. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something. Please don’t turn me away.”<
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She didn’t say anything, but she stared at me with those beautiful eyes, her exhaustion making them mossy and darker than usual. The air around us changed, becoming warm and charged. Slowly, I lowered my head, brushing my lips against hers. A quiet whimper escaped her mouth, and I tugged her to me, captured her mouth, and kissed her. All my worry, confusion, and the strange need I felt for her went into that kiss. Our tongues met, tangling and tasting, and I buried my hands in her long hair, tilting her face so I could get closer. Our mouths moved, the kiss deepened, and desire exploded.
In a second, I had shoved her against the wall, my body holding her captive as I explored her curves. It didn’t matter her daughter was close by or Seth was sleeping across the room. I didn’t care what happened in a few days, or even a few hours. All I cared about, all that mattered, was the way she felt in my arms. How perfectly she fit against me. The way she moaned low in her throat and how her fingers felt, tugging on the short strands of my hair, making me want her that much more. My cock lengthened, pressing against the seam of my trousers. I wanted her. Right there. Right now.
Until Seth’s voice boomed through the thin walls and reality came crashing around us.
“Hey, kiddo! Where’s Alex?”
Alex stiffened, and with regret, I pulled back, our eyes meeting. Her chest heaved, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips swollen. She looked stunning. I still had my hands tangled in her hair, and I bent down, kissing her softly. We’d have to continue it later.
Alex reached up, trying to calm the mess my hands had made of her waves. I tugged on her hand and kissed the knuckles.
“I’ll go distract them. Give you a minute to, ah, calm down.”
“I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“Sounds good.” I ran a finger down her pink cheek. “We need to talk.”
Christmas Sugar ~ Melanie Moreland Page 6
