Until Winter Breaks

by Elana Johnson

  “Millie?” Jared’s voice came through the wood.

  She opened the door. “Hey.” She scanned him from head to toe, taking precious seconds to admire his physique. He wore a pair of dark denim jeans, cowboy boots, and a navy blue polo that accentuated his broad shoulders. Every stitch of clothing looked like it had been tailored to fit him precisely.

  “Hey yourself.” He snaked one hand around her waist and pulled her flush against him. He took a deep breath and stepped back, leaving her yearning for his mouth to touch her body somewhere. It seemed a crime he hadn’t kissed her hello.

  “You ready?”

  “Yes.” Millie had never spoken a truer word. He offered his elbow, which she took, and they strolled toward his garage.

  “We really don’t have to take the bike,” Jared said. “It’s dark already, and—”

  “I want to.” A surge of words rose to her mouth. “I need to start doing things I’ve never done.”

  Jared slowed his pace. “Why’s that?”

  “I’m trying to reinvent myself.”

  He turned toward her, stopping completely as he studied her. She’d gotten used to him searching her face for answers, for tells. She’d gotten good at hiding how she felt, at disappearing behind her walls so he couldn’t see the whole truth.

  Now she let him look openly. And he did. The edges in his eyes softened with each passing second. His mouth turned slack. Emotion flooded his face, and though Millie hadn’t been to law school, she’d seen a man look at her the way Jared was.

  “I’m doing that too,” he finally said. “Shall we?” He stepped into the garage and retrieved a red helmet. “Picked this up for you.” Instead of handing it to her and letting her strap it on, he stepped into her personal bubble, brushed her hair back from her face, and settled the helmet on her head.

  His fingers brushed her throat as he secured the straps under her chin. “Cute.”

  She made a face. “Cute?”

  “Cute’s not good?” He put on his helmet, and he didn’t look cute. More like hotter than volcanic ash.

  “Cute is for ten-year-olds.” Millie watched him mount the motorcycle, suddenly wishing she’d worn different shoes. “And I haven’t been ten for almost two decades.”

  “You’re definitely not ten.” He twisted around, the desire—mixed with a healthy dose of adoration—swirling through his eyes. “Come on, sweetheart. You sit right behind me.”

  She complied, snuggling into his back and wrapping her arms around his torso.

  “You sure you’ve never ridden a motorcycle?” His voice was muffled through the helmet.

  “No, why?”

  “You sure know how to get on.” He purred, which coaxed a laugh from her. It sounded like a cornered cat.

  “Lean with me,” he said. “Okay? That’s all I need you to do.”

  “Lean,” she repeated. “Got it.”

  He brought the engine to life, and an unexpected rush shot from Millie’s toes to her teeth. She laughed again.

  Jared backed out of the driveway, revved the engine, and called to her to “hold on.”

  She wanted to keep her head up, watch Redwood Bay fly by without any barriers between her and it. But the adrenaline wore off quickly, and she ended up laying her cheek against Jared’s back, tuning her body into his so she could lean when he did.

  The ride ended long before she wanted it to, and when she told Jared as much, he said, “I’ll take you on a ride anytime you want, sweetheart.” He leaned closer, his lips lingering on her earlobe. “And we don’t even need a motorcycle.”

  Heat exploded in Millie’s face—and lower. “Behave yourself,” she told him. “I’m early on in the reinvention process.”

  He chuckled as he opened the door to the pub he’d chosen for dinner. “Noted.”

  “I’ve never been here,” she commented as the neon lights illuminated the night.

  “Another first.” Jared laid his hand on her lower back, guiding her in front of him. Millie experienced something else she hadn’t in a while—a rush of rightness at his touch. She wasn’t surprised she hadn’t been to the pub before. She didn’t exactly go on a lot of dates, or even out to dinner much.

  “They have the best fish ‘n chips,” Jared said as he indicated to the hostess that they were a party of two.

  “How’s your leg?” Millie asked.

  “Good,” he said. “I got the stitches out earlier this week.”

  A squeeze of discomfort landed in her stomach. “Sorry I disappeared on you.”

  Jared waited to answer until they’d settled into their booth. “I survived, but barely.” He reached for her hands, taking both of hers in his. “Promise you won’t do that again.”

  Millie wanted to make that promise, and others. But she couldn’t. “I think we should stick to your plan of spending time together and seeing what happens.” She reclaimed her hands and took a drink of water.

  “That plan included kissing every day,” Jared said.

  “Some parts of plans are fluid.” A smile curled her lips. “So have you decided if you’ll be staying in Redwood Bay?” As soon as she spoke the words, she wished she could recall them. His jaw hardened and he opened his mouth to speak. Millie beat him to it.

  “Never mind,” she said. “New part of the plan: Only conversation topics we won’t fight about. Deal?”

  He scrutinized her in that lawyerly way he had. She almost told him to knock it off.

  “Deal.” He leaned forward, almost coming across the table. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “The answer’s no,” she said automatically.

  He laughed, and Millie basked in the sound of it, wishing she could bottle it up and listen to it later.

  “I want to remodel my sister’s taco stand as a coming home present.” He grinned at her. “You know her better than I do, and I need your help.”

  The words took a few seconds to sink into Millie’s consciousness. “That’s a great idea.” She regarded him. “Perhaps you should’ve used that word instead of proposition.”

  Jared picked up his menu and pretended to study it. “What fun would that be?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next evening, Jared mowed and weeded Polly’s yard, whistling a low tune from deep within his core. He hadn’t been back since he finished the front yard, but the weather was just starting to get up to the high fifties.

  “You’re certainly happy today,” Polly said as she sat in the swing on her front porch.

  “It’s a nice day.” Jared retrieved the last armful of grass clippings and put them in her trash bin. He joined her on the porch, taking the second seat in the swing and accepting the glass of mango lemonade she offered.

  “It’s just like every other day.” Polly peered into the sky, and sighed. “Sometimes I wish something would happen. Snow, maybe.”

  “Redwood Bay is pretty predictable.” Except for that gale, even the weather seemed to stay the same.

  “It’s boring,” Polly said.

  Jared glanced at her and heard Lucy in his head telling him to pay attention when women spoke. Polly looked miserable, her eyes glazed, a string of hair sliding around her finger.

  “You okay, Pols?”

  “Yeah, fine.”

  Jared knew this fine didn’t mean good. “What can I do?”

  Polly’s shoulders lowered a level. “Find me a good man.”

  “Define ‘good’.”

  “Someone who’ll mow my lawn, and take me to dinner when I don’t feel like cooking, and make me laugh.”

  Jared squinted at the scenery. “Is that all women want?”

  Polly’s eyes crinkled with her grin. “And money.” She nudged his shoulder, her humor drying up. “Just kidding. Actually, I just want to go out with someone who has the same zip code as me.”

  “You do a lot of long-distance dating?”

  “Just once.” Polly gently pushed the swing with her feet to keep it moving. “He was wealthy, but that did
n’t make up for the miles between us.”

  Jared covered her hand with his. “I’m sure you’ll find someone, Pols.”

  She heaved a big sigh. “So, what are you going to do for a job?” Polly asked, aiming right for the bullseye and hitting it.

  Jared’s lungs forgot how to work, and he coughed. “I’m not exactly sure.”

  “Hmm,” Polly said, which could’ve been interpreted in any number of ways, none of which Jared liked.

  “I’m renovating Sophie’s shop for her. She’s coming home for the summer.”

  “She told me.” Polly sipped her lemonade. “I think she’s bored in Spain.” She clucked her tongue. “I don’t know how that’s possible, but Sophie never was one to branch out much.”

  Jared didn’t comment, because he didn’t really know his sister that well. The idea that he could remodel her taco stand to her liking suddenly seemed like an impossible feat.

  “You don’t think she’s having problems with Mont?” Jared asked.

  “No.” Polly spoke so quickly, she left little room for doubt. “You saw them at the wedding. They’re mad for each other. But…Mont’s got his acting, and she left everything she knew and loved here. She’s lonely, Jared. Surely you understand that.”

  Oh, he understood lonely. Or he did, before Millie Larson started letting him kiss her. He nodded to answer Polly even as the smell of Millie’s perfume teased his nose. The taste of her lips, slightly salty, made his mouth water now. He closed his eyes, desperate to feel the warmth of her fingers sliding through his hair, the press of her knee against his hip as she tried to get as close to him as possible.

  His fantasies had come true—he’d pressed her against her front door and kissed her, kissed her, kissed her. But her reinvention didn’t include inviting him in, and if he was honest, his didn’t either. Not yet.

  “Polly?” he asked, digging himself out of the memories with Millie. He liked doing his cousin’s yard work, but he needed something steadier.

  “Mm?”

  “You think Tripp might need an extra hand around his shop this summer?” He felt like he’d opened wide and swallowed the desert. He hadn’t even been able to go down to the wharf or see his father’s shop. He wasn’t sure he could face that place again. But from the way Millie kept asking if he was going to stay in town, if he’d found a job, indicated that if he wanted to be with her, he needed to give her the security she clearly wanted.

  “Tripp always needs help,” Polly said. “Especially someone he doesn’t have to train and then watch over.” She smiled at him. “You should give him a call. He’s gearing up for his busiest season. He has a hard time keeping up with the tourists in the summer, and the construction, and the fishing. I’m sure he’d love to have your help.”

  Jared thanked her for the work and the lemonade and headed for his motorcycle. Tripp probably would appreciate Jared’s help. He just wasn’t sure if he could offer it.

  Instead of going to the wharf, he headed to Millie’s. She answered the door along with the delicious smell of fresh baked bread.

  “Hey.” He leaned in the doorway, his hand migrating to the hem of her shirt, where he twisted a piece of the silky fabric between his fingers.

  “I wondered when you were going to call.”

  His gaze jumped from her legs to her face. She looked like she needed copious amounts of carbs to deal with his lack of calling. “Is in person better than on the phone?”

  She gave him a once-over. “I suppose.” She stepped back. “You want to come in? I brought home bread from the bakery, and I’m making artichoke dip.”

  He should’ve called this morning, and probably again at lunch, and then come over tonight. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. “Actually, I’m wondering if you had that key. Maybe wanted to go with me to check out the taco stand.”

  “It’s almost dark,” Millie said. “Can we go tomorrow? Maybe after you drag yourself out of the ocean?”

  “Is that before or after you sip your orange tea on the balcony?” He leaned down and inhaled the soft peach scent of her skin, tucked a lock of loose hair over her shoulder.

  “It’s usually just before,” she said.

  “I’m so glad someone has my schedule down,” he joked.

  Millie stiffened, but Jared pulled her along, determined not to let her brick him out, mask herself off.

  “Smells great,” he said, breathing her in again.

  She gave him a playful shove and stepped to the stove. He didn’t mind the distance. She was as glorious to look at as she was to touch. And if she’d let him lounge on her sofa with his arm slung around her as a movie played? He’d settle in and watch her cook—for now.

  * * *

  The next morning, Jared pulled himself out of the ocean a half hour earlier than he normally did. He’d showered, leapt the railing to Millie’s balcony, and waited ten minutes before she appeared.

  “Jared!” The shattering of porcelain and the splashing of tea accompanied her surprise.

  He knelt to pick up the shards as the orange blossom tea dripped through the planks. “I’m sorry,” he said. “We never decided when to go to the taco stand, and I thought you’d see me.”

  “I’m not as nosy as you think.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Okay, maybe I am.” She laughed lightly. “Leave it. I’ll get the broom.” She left him on the balcony, and when she returned, he stood to the side while she swept up the ruined cup.

  “You’re not nosy,” he said.

  “I am,” she said. “But I’m trying not to be.”

  Jared brushed the broom aside and pressed his lips to hers. Encouraged when she melted into him, he tucked his hands under the hem of her shirt. She moaned, arched, became one with him. His heart burst, heat poured through him, and he knew he was in very real danger of falling in love.

  “Part of your reinvention process?” he murmured, moving his lips to her throat.

  She tilted her head back to give him better access. “Yes,” she breathed.

  “I’m doing that too,” he said, this time planting a kiss just below her ear. She trembled in his arms, and it could’ve been from the cold. “I want to be the man you deserve. I’m trying.”

  She gripped his shoulders, seemingly unable to support her own weight. “So no more kissing a different girl every day?”

  He touched his forehead to hers. “The only woman I want to kiss is you.”

  Their breath mingled as she removed another row from her wall. Pure fear stretched across her face, her eyes were wide and raw.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered. “Too fast? It’s not like I said—” He cut himself off before he uttered the three most dangerous words on the planet. He didn’t know what they’d do to a woman like Millie.

  “It’s not too fast,” she said. “I just—I have to tell you—” Her words died like she’d suddenly lost brain function and only the involuntary actions could happen. She breathed. She blinked.

  “Millie?”

  She surged toward him, her mouth hungry, heated, fiery, fervent. He didn’t mind—her passion was only matched by his—but somewhere through the pleasure of being kissed, touched, loved, a voice whispered that she had a truth to tell him, but hadn’t.

  * * *

  Millie forced the confession back where it came from—behind her vocal chords and stuffed in the recesses of her mind. Kissing Jared usually erased her concerns, and this time was no different.

  By the time she realized he’d somehow moved their make-out session to her bed, her body was alight with desire. A new emotion for her, something she relished as she embraced the reinvention process.

  Jared seemed to sense her sudden apprehension because he slid off the bed, stooped to retrieve something, and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Millie blinked, unsure of when he’d removed it, or if she’d done it.

  She checked her own wardrobe, and found it all in its proper place.

  “I’l
l get you some more tea.” He left the room, leaving Millie to somehow regain control of her mind and body. She hadn’t let anyone drive her to unconscious acts in a long time. The last time she’d lived in that haze was immediately after Brady died.

  She glanced at her bedside table, which housed a plethora of personal items: Her watch, her cell phone, a picture of her late husband.

  Panic rooted itself behind her eyes as she frantically wondered if he’d seen it. Perhaps she’d kept him busy enough that he hadn’t.

  “Ready?” Jared called from the hallway, and Millie lunged for the picture, slamming in in the top drawer just as he entered the room.

  She stood to receive him and the tea. “Thanks.” The smile she conjured felt timid on her lips, and her pulse pitter-pattered when Jared returned it in the same vein.

  He joined her on the balcony, his own cup of tea sheltered between what she knew were very capable hands. “So we can go to the taco stand this morning, right?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I don’t know how much time we lost—” Her words tripped in her throat. “But I don’t have to be in until ten.”

  “Wasn’t time lost, sweetheart.” Jared grinned into his teacup, and after he swallowed, he contemplated the ocean like it had removed his T-shirt and explored the planes of his chest.

  The top of Millie’s head blazed like it had caught fire. She’d removed Jared’s clothes and caressed his body! She definitely needed to slow down next time, memorize every ridge, take time to enjoy herself.

  She couldn’t be so frenzied she couldn’t even remember what had happened. Of course, next time, she’d tell Jared about Brady and see if he still wanted to kiss her at all. She didn’t want him to be like the few other men she’d dated long enough to tell about Brady—scared, confused, and then gone.

  Sitting on her balcony, watching the man she’d let past her previously established perimeter, Millie decided she couldn’t kiss him again until he knew about Brady.

  “You ready?” Jared asked, pulling Millie from the promise she’d just made to herself.