“So knowing you won’t really get anything physical out of this, does it make hanging around me less . . .” I pressed my lips together for a split second. “Less interesting?”
“Not even close.” His eyes darkened and he shook his head. “You’ve fascinated me from the moment I ran into you, and this only adds to the mystery.”
I stood up, holding the bag in my hand. “I’m not very mysterious. I just don’t easily trust people.”
“I know. I hope I can change that.” He shook his head. “Not everyone is intentionally cruel. Sometimes cruelty can happen without thought and it’s just as hurtful.”
I nodded and glanced at the glowing Santa in the corner. “True.” I brought my eyes back to his. “Bet you never knew you’d get such a project walking into that store of mine.”
“You’re not a project.”
I smiled, cocking my head slightly. “Thank you for that. You really take after your mom when it comes to kindness.”
“I have my moments, but I certainly trust what she has to say about a lot of subjects.”
“She’s a wise woman,” I agreed.
“My mom was right about you.”
“How so?”
“You’re extremely beautiful and exactly my type.” His eyes stayed on mine, and I felt the familiar pull I’d vowed to stay away from.
“You have a type?”
“I must.” His gaze fell to my mouth, and it felt like I was floating away to some other universe as my mind drifted back to the drunken kiss.
“I maybe should have asked this a week ago.”
His eyes flew back to mine.
“What?” His voice was low.
“Do you believe a man and woman can just be friends?”
“Absolutely.”
“Have you ever experienced it?” I asked, trying to find my way back to the questions that could keep us distant.
“Would I call a woman to go kick it if I weren’t interested?” He took another step closer and my breath caught.
“That’s what I’m asking,” I nearly whispered.
“No.” He shook his head and slid his hand along my jaw, sending shivers down my spine.
“Except for now,” I said breathlessly, wondering what it would be like to kiss him without alcohol stirring through me.
“I never said that.” His mouth touched down to mine, and a little moan escaped as his hands circled my waist, bringing me into him.
It was like time stood still. I didn’t want to fail my mission, but the taste of his lips was intoxicating. Hearing the shift in his breathing as his kisses deepened sent me to another place, but I felt him pull back.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“Don’t be. I liked it.”
I loved it and I wanted more of it, but I was the one who set the rules. He was doing his best to abide by them. Part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind and let my emotions take over, but last time I did that I knew where it got me.
“At least I know a sober kiss with you is even better than a drunken one,” I teased softly.
“Imagine if I let myself go wild with you.” He flashed a boyish grin, and I felt everything in the world tip right again.
“Imagine.”
“Oh, I will.” He turned around and waved without looking back. “Santa will be ready in thirty. I know he’s looking forward to his elf. He likes his elves wild.”
I touched my lips feeling the vibrations from where his lips touched mine. I drew in a breath, and my heart hammered in my chest violently as he left me alone to think about what he actually meant by wild.
But I knew myself well enough to know I’d never find out.
Chapter Twelve
My doorbell rang, and I glanced out the window. I’d just put on a pot of coffee to warm myself up from the ride home from work. Granted, it was a short ride, but it got chilly once I went to the grocery store and came back out to my car.
I hadn’t been expecting anyone, especially with the weather outside. The blustery winds combined with snow made driving almost impossible. I’d been lucky enough to shut down the shop just in time and get my shopping done. I craned my neck and saw my sister dressed in a purple knit hat, matching gloves, and a puffy down silver jacket.
Holly gave me a full grin and a quick wave before I jogged over to the door and opened up.
“What the heck are you doing driving in this weather?” I asked, pulling her inside. A gust of wet snow blew in right before I closed the door against the winter blast.
“Nick and I left Seattle early.” A shiver ran through her. “He’s got the truck running. I have been meaning to tell you something since Christmas.”
“You’re engaged?” I hopped up on my toes in total excitement.
“No.” She flashed a wry grin. “You’ll really wish that was the case when I tell you what —”
“Spit it out,” I interrupted.
“Mom and Dad bought a house here to surprise us.”
I swore the entry hall temperature dropped twenty degrees. “Like a vacation home?”
She shook her head. “Nope. They’ve been on a cruise while all their belongings get trucked out here.”
“Why do I feel there is more to the story?” I sat down on the small bench I had by the stairs.
“Because there always is.” She laughed. “They don’t close on their home until the second of January, but their flight gets in to SeaTac in about four hours. I’d totally have them stay at my cabin, but Nick’s mom is there.”
I loved my parents. I really did. In fact, they stayed at my house over Thanksgiving, but that experience was a stark reminder of why we all needed our own space. Between their cockatoo, Muppet, and my mom’s overly critical eye, there was little room to breathe, let alone live, from day to day.
“What in the world made them want to move?” I asked, shaking my head. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that I moved so many states away.”
She gave a nervous chuckle. “Nick put them in touch with a realtor. They wanted to surprise us. They feel Fireweed is responsible for reigniting the flames.”
Hearing the reason actually warmed me up to the idea. Who was I to squash someone’s happiness? It got my dad to retire early so why not kick life up a notch.
I nodded in approval. “You know, this is definitely a surprise, but maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“That’s the spirit.” She smiled. “I spoke to mom before she boarded her flight and she sounded so relaxed.”
“That’s a term I’d never use to describe mom.” I grinned.
“Not really a term I’d use to describe you, either.” Holly wiggled her nose.
“Now, now,” I warned, glancing out the window to see the snowflakes swirling to the ground.
“Do I need to pick them up from the airport?” I asked.
“No. They’re taking a shuttle. They stopped off in Illinois one last time to pick up Muppet from the bird sitter and to say goodbye to the home.”
“Wow.” I shook my head. “It’s weird to think that’s not our house anymore.”
“I know. Part of me wanted to go say goodbye.”
I drew in a breath, knowing I wouldn’t want to step foot back in Illinois any time soon, but I would miss the home and good memories we’d shared.
Not the bad ones. Like walking around for weeks in a daze because everything in my life had been ripped away.
“I better get going.” Holly gave me a quick hug. “If you need anything at all, call. We’d be more than happy to entertain them.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll go get the guestroom ready. What house did they buy?”
“A cute little cottage overlooking Mystic Bay.”
“Mystic Bay?” I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ve been to that part of the island.”
“It’s kind of off the beaten path, but it’s beautiful. Nick drove me over yesterday. I’ll text you the address and directions. I know mom has a ton of pictures saved to her
phone.”
Holly pulled open the door and walked onto the porch. I waved at Nick and he flashed his lights in return since I couldn’t actually see him.
“So how long have you known?” I asked.
“Christmas Eve. I just didn’t tell you because I was worried you’d never leave Hound Island.” She flashed a wicked grin and bounded down the steps to the sound of crunchy snow.
“Drive safely.” I waved one last time and shut the door, looking around my foyer.
There was unopened mail that I scooped into my arms from on top the wine barrel table. My mom didn’t care for my décor and certainly didn’t understand repurposing materials, so the least I could do was tidy up before they arrived.
I circled into the dining room, picked up a few books off the table, and moved the candles back to the hutch before going into the kitchen where I grabbed the rest of the magazines, books, and bills. My arms were stretched to maximum capacity as I quickly climbed the stairs. Their guest room had turned into a storage space since they last stayed so I dumped everything in my arms onto my bed to sort later and bolted to the guestroom.
It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I had managed to put away most of the Christmas decorations into the attic. I flung open the closet doors and began moving boxes of half-finished embroidery projects, crocheted scarfs, and more books. As I ran my hand over the quilt to get out the wrinkles, the doorbell rang. My sister must have forgotten to tell me some other huge surprise. I glanced out the window that looked over the driveway and my body froze in surprise.
It wasn’t Holly. It was Chance.
We’d been texting endlessly about the online expansion of my teas on their website, but he didn’t mention coming to Fireweed. It had only been three days since I last saw him, and it wasn’t exactly easy to get him out of my mind. Volunteering with him on Hound Island as an elf turned out to be a wonderful experience. Seeing so many smiling children and happy families made my holidays complete.
Chance had been a complete gentleman during the rest of the trip, which managed to chase away all the feelings from the kiss and fully grounded us as friends.
Or at least that was what I told myself.
The doorbell rang again, and I forced myself to breathe and get down the stairs. By the time I’d opened the door, he’d turned around and started to head back to his car. The sound of the door stopped him in his tracks and my heart fluttered unexpectedly.
“You didn’t tell me you were going to be over here.”
He spun around in his ragg wool cap, scarf, and gloves with only his gorgeous blue eyes peering at me, but even then I could see the smile in his gaze.
“You strike me as a woman who needs a few more surprises in her life.” He took a few steps toward the house. His eyes glanced over my shoulder and I chuckled.
“Come in.” I motioned to him. “I don’t need you turning into an icicle until you get all my teas listed on your website.”
“At least you’ve got your priorities straight.”
“When it comes to work, yes.” I smiled, closing the door behind him. “You’ve got so much snow on you.” I took his hat, scarf, and gloves while he stripped out of his coat.
“If someone opened the door a little quicker . . .” He winked. “I might not be a popsicle.”
“At least you’re a cute popsicle and you even have all matching winter wear,” I teased. “I was upstairs straightening up the guest room.”
“Expecting company?” His brows rose. “I don’t remember you mentioning anyone coming for a stay.”
“It’s a surprise visit.” I drew in a deep breath. “A surprise visit from my parents. Apparently, they’re moving to Fireweed.”
“Permanently?” he asked.
“Yup. They bought a place on Mystic Bay.”
Chance nodded. “Wow. The old cottage?”
I nodded. “You’ve been there?”
He shook his head and glanced around the foyer. “I’ve only heard the stories about the place.”
“Stories? What kind of stories?”
“People say it’s haunted.”
“Oh, come on.” I slapped his arm playfully.
“Seriously. I didn’t make up the rumors. I just pass them on.”
“Great. My already neurotic mom just bought her way into a haunted cottage.” I chuckled. “Such is the Wildes way. Would you like to come into the living room? I’m sure something brought you all this way. I’ve got a hot pot of coffee.”
“Coffee and not tea? Isn’t that being a traitor to your own talents?”
I laughed. “So what brings you to my lovely abode?”
“This place is so you.” He smiled as we both stood in the foyer.
“How do you know? You’ve only seen one room.”
“Pale yellow walls that are warm and inviting, repurposing furniture . . . a wine barrel that’s now a table and a bench that used to be several crates. It’s just like your store. Imperfectly perfect.”
“Hmph.” I glanced around my entry. “I suppose it does look a lot like the store.”
“That’s a good thing.” He nodded.
“Well, in here is my dining room.” I made my way to the room I’d just cleared and kept walking. “And here is my living room.”
He’d gotten quiet so I spun around to see him looking at a few photos on the wall.
“Is this you when you were a kid?” he asked, pointing at a photo of myself dressed as a Smurf with my sister.
“Yeah. I remember being so annoyed because I wanted to be Smurfette and my sister got to be her because they didn’t have my size.”
“The horror.” He glanced over at me. “So you make just as cute of a Smurf as you do an elf.”
“As long as I stick to short and squatty creatures, I’ve got it made.”
“You’re not short and squatty.” He walked away from the photos. “You’re sexy as hell in tights and stripes.”
My cheeks flushed.
“Says a man who walks around in a red suit, rosy cheeks, and a button nose?”
“Only once a year,” he corrected.
“I think you just have a fondness for the quirky.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, I suppose not.” I folded my arms and studied his features. Separately, they might not be all that, but together they created the perfect package. The fullness of his lips nearly made me dizzy thinking about them on mine again, which pulled me to stick to my plan. I didn’t want him to become another disaster. “I’ve been thinking about a couple things today.”
“Like maybe we should ditch your plan and try—”
“No, not that.” I shook my head but noticed he was coming over to me anyway. “I was wondering about that nurse Billy mentioned.”
“Nurse?” he asked, confused.
“You dated her?” I continued.
“Oh, her.” He smiled. “I went on one date with her. She was lovely, but there was absolutely no connection. I didn’t feel a thing being close to her.” He took another step forward. “And I think feeling a spark is imperative to a relationship, don’t you.”
The spark between us had catapulted to an all-out assault on the senses as his eyes stayed locked on mine.
“I think the smart thing to do is to date someone you’re attracted to, yes.” I nodded in agreement, feeling dopey with desire. “But what if it’s a friends-to-lovers thing?”
“Still has to be that spark.” He touched the tip of his thumb to my chin and my breath caught. “Have you dated someone who you didn’t feel a spark for?”
His question zapped me back to reality.
My ex-fiancé and I had been friends before we started dating. I never felt that instantaneous spark a person sees in movies and reads about—the same spark I’ve felt with Chance since the first moment he popped into my world.
My other relationship had been a slow transformation from friends to more. I wasn’t even sure when it happened, but at some point, I knew I cared for Mark
. I pictured us growing old together and not in an exciting, adventurous way. No, it was more like a slow and steady merging of lives. It wasn’t until Mark began telling me that I was his everything—his world—that I realized the relationship had gotten to that point.
I brought my eyes to Chance’s.
“Yes. I’ve been in a relationship where there was no spark initially. A spark came eventually.” I glanced out the window to see the snow coming down even harder. I wasn’t so sure my parents would even make it here tonight.
“That’s not a spark.” He shook his head. “A spark doesn’t take years to happen.”
I nodded, listening intently.
“It’s either there or it’s not.”
“Do you think it’s possible for one person to feel a spark and the other person not so much?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” His lips pulled into a scowl. “Chemistry is built off of one another. I think someone can be attracted to a person, but if the other isn’t feeling it, I don’t think that pent-up desire is manufactured.” He took a step closer and I felt desire running through me at an unstoppable pace. “You know, that moment when it’s like the whole world falls away and it’s only you two? That second in time where all you can do is think about being with the other person, kissing the other person, making love to the other person. All rational thoughts cease to exist.” He brushed a piece of hair from my shoulders, dipped his head to my ear, and whispered, “Like now.”
My body trembled from his breath caressing my bare shoulder, and I desperately needed a wall to lean up against. I shouldn’t have worn this oversized sweater today.
“So this thing we’re feeling can’t just be explained away,” I whispered, feeling his cool lips graze my neck.
“What do you think?” he asked, kissing my cheek softly before stepping away.
“I think you’re a charmer,” I said, my voice almost hoarse. “And an awfully good kisser who’s terrible at playing fair.”
“There’s no such thing in love and war.”
“I thought I’d heard the opposite.” I bit my lip, trying to will myself to stay away.
He smiled and glanced toward the kitchen.
“So how about that cup of coffee, and I’ll tell you the real reason I’m here.” He flashed a cocky grin.
Chance at Love on Mystic Bay (Island County Series Book 6) Page 10
