An Enchanted Season

by Nalini Singh

  “It was when I got shot.”

  One of the worst days of her life, second only to when her grandmother had died. Will had responded to a robbery alone, since Cuttersville’s police force was small. They did all their patrolling solo, and that night he’d encountered a desperate twenty-year-old addict trying to break into the pharmaceutical supplies at the drugstore. He’d shot Will in the shoulder, but Will had still managed to restrain and handcuff him before calling for backup. Charlotte had gotten the call from Will’s mom, who was still living in town at the time, and she’d met them up at the hospital. “What about when you got shot?” Just the memory of the fear she’d felt before knowing he was okay made her mouth go hot.

  “I tried to kiss you. In the hospital. I had one of those epiphanies, you know, from facing potential death, where I thought, ‘Hey, I love Charlotte, what am I waiting for?’ But you looked at me like I had lost my mind, so I let it drop.” He had stepped back, putting space between them, and he shrugged, looking a little sheepish.

  Now it wasn’t just her mouth that was hot, it was her whole body, head to toe and every speck in between. She did remember, after all. “I thought you were hopped up on pain killers and didn’t know what you were doing. I thought maybe you were dreaming. You were muttering incoherently. And did you just say that you love me?”

  He nodded. Then he took her hand, his touch tender, his thumb smoothing over her skin. “Charlotte, I love you, totally and completely. As a friend, yes, but it’s more than that…I love you the way a man loves a woman.”

  Charlotte was speechless, a big old grapefruit-size lump in her throat preventing her from swallowing or speaking. Not that she had formulated a coherent response anyway. She couldn’t really see, either, because tears had completely blurred her vision. So she stood there watery and wordless and shook her head, overwhelmed. This was real. He was real. The love she felt was real, and now he was telling her she had his, too.

  Squeezing his hand back and breathing really hard, she managed to force out, “I love you, too,” before dissolving into full-blown sobbing. She didn’t mean to. Didn’t want to. But the emotion she felt, the relief, the joy, the hope, was overwhelming, and she just lost it.

  Will pulled her close against his chest. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s alright. It’s all good. These are happy tears, right?”

  She nodded, face squashed against his T-shirt. “Uh-huh.” Wiping her tears on the cotton of his shirt, she sucked in air and tried to get control of herself.

  “Alright, then.” He tipped her head up, forcing her to look at him. “Then can I make love to you?”

  Hell, yes. “Absolutely.” Only she couldn’t stop herself from darting a quick glance over to his kitchen, where the mistletoe was lying.

  He grinned. “Should I go get it? And how exactly did you cast a spell on that thing anyway?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just leave it.” Bree would be disappointed that it hadn’t worked, but Charlotte couldn’t say she was. Will wanting her all on his own was far better. There was really no comparison.

  “Sure it does. I’m curious.” He went over to the kitchen and picked it up. Groaning when he made contact, his eyes rolled back in his head like he was suddenly experiencing intense pleasure.

  Charlotte was horrified for a split second, then Will laughed.

  “Just kidding.” He winked at her.

  “Not funny.” Though he was so damn cute, it wasn’t like she could even work up any real irritation. He loved her. He. Loved. Her. She was going to be flying on that for about a month.

  “Yes, it is.” Will was inspecting the mistletoe. “What’s this white ribbon for? It’s all twisted inside the branches and you drew little pictures on it.”

  “Those are symbols.” Charlotte crossed her arms and tried to be nonchalant about the whole thing.

  “Symbols for what?” He twirled it around, running his finger down the ribbon. “This is a blue wavy line. What’s that mean?”

  “Serenity. In our relationship.”

  He glanced over at her, looking touched. “That’s very sweet.”

  “Your friendship brings me happiness.” They were only a few feet apart, but Charlotte felt the energy between them, the new awareness of each other, a sort of strumming electric attraction and excitement, a giddy sense of anticipation and security. They were no longer just friends. They were about to become lovers and they were in love. It was a powerful moment, just locking eyes with Will and letting him see the truth.

  “Yours does, too, Charlotte, more than I can say.” He cleared his throat and tapped the next symbol. “This is a crazy-looking H, or I don’t know, like a arch of some kind. What’s that mean?”

  “That’s the bluebird of happiness. It’s for love.”

  Will tilted his head slightly. “This sounds more like a love spell than a lust spell.”

  She had to be honest, with him and herself. “Maybe it was both.”

  “I think they really go hand in hand, don’t they? One works best with the other.”

  “That’s true.” And she loved him even more for understanding.

  “So what’s lusty on here?”

  “The hexagram is the symbol for sex.” Which she wanted to actually be doing instead of standing there talking about it.

  “Okay, you have two of those. And three male symbols.”

  Yes, she did. Charlotte felt her inner thighs moisten, the tight ache she’d been feeling all night building and growing in anticipation. “Those are the phallus of thrusting symbols.”

  Will sucked in his breath, his look so hot, so aroused, that it felt like he was stroking her from across the room, like his fingers were already inside her body, invading and pleasuring her.

  “Are they now? And you felt the need to put three of these on here? More than anything else, I see.” Will started toward her, stalking her, an impressive erection already pressing against the front of his jeans. “Why is that, sweetheart? Are you saying you want me to thrust my cock up inside you?”

  Hello. Charlotte’s nipples tightened and she shifted restlessly. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. That’s what I was hoping for, even when I thought it could never happen.”

  His hand brushed against her waist, thigh rustling against hers. “It’s going to happen. Right now.”

  Six

  WILL HAD INTENDED TO TAKE IT SLOW, SENSUAL, SWEET FOR their first time. But then Charlotte had blushed, her cheeks pink, her lips wet and parted, and she had just tossed off that admission of having put phallus-thrusting symbols on her mistletoe ribbon.

  He’d heard “phallus” and “thrusting,” along with her wanting him, and his brain had ceased to function. All commands were coming from below the belt now, which was why he just about attacked Charlotte, hands sliding all over her thighs, her ass, her waist, while he kissed her hard, sucking and tugging and thrusting. Her hands went into his hair, gripping hard, as they rocked and slapped together, tongues entwining, skin hot, breath rushed and urgent. Pulling back slightly, Will ripped his shirt off over his head and dropped it to the floor.

  Her eyes widened and she dropped her touch to his chest, stroking over him with such appreciation and curiosity that Will groaned. Her lips were wet and shiny from his kisses, skin flushed with pleasure, legs spreading apart as she tried to get closer to him. Charlotte had a raw sensuality that he had never seen, never even guessed existed, and he wanted to see more, wanted to see how hot she could get, how far she’d go. They were going to have a hell of a lot of fun exploring that in the next few months.

  Shoving up her sweater, Will pulled and tugged until it popped off over her head, her head sticking up, her arms flailing as she tried to get free. Then to his total amazement, she reached back and unhooked her bra and tossed it to the side, exposing her very lovely breasts, bare shoulders, and flat belly to him. Will forgot to breathe.

  Then he couldn’t prevent a guttural growl from coming out of his mouth as he bent over and took her nipple into his mouth,
cupping the soft weight of her breasts with his hands. She gasped, pinching his shoulders. That sound, the way she expressed her pleasure, her voice the same one he knew so well, yet so different, was as big of a turn-on as the taste of her tight flesh under his tongue.

  Sliding his hand down, he caressed the front of her jeans, back and forth, feeling the soft give of her body beneath his touch, regretting the thickness of denim. It was just a hint, a tease, so he unpopped the snap and tore her jeans and panties down all in one desperate motion. Lacking in any sort of romance or finesse, definitely, but he was about to suffer bodily harm from excessive arousal. He’d make it up to her later.

  Charlotte was obviously of a same mind, because she gave him a hand by stepping out of her jeans. Kicking them to the side, she dropped down to her knees, before he even got a glance at her nakedness. Her knees. Hands reaching for his fly.

  Holy shit. He hoped he knew where this was going.

  It was. In two seconds she had his cock out and in her mouth. No hesitation, no playing around, no lick, no flick, just deep down into her throat, enclosing him in her slick, moist heat. He grabbed her head for balance and closed his eyes. “Damn, sweetheart. You’re killing me.”

  She pulled back completely, mouth shiny, eyes hooded and still trained on his erection. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time.”

  Then she enclosed him again, forcing a quick, hot rhythm on him that had his balls tightening and his teeth grinding. It was so fucking good, but too much, too soon. He jerked away, and shoved his own jeans down and dropped onto his knees. Charlotte rested in front of him, lips puffy, chin glistening with moisture, her chest pink with excitement and exertion. Giving her a searing kiss, Will put his arm around her shoulder and urged her back onto the carpet.

  Pausing to take a look, to savor the moment, to run his gaze over her beautiful, sexy body, Will whispered, “You are amazing.”

  She gave him a brief smile and mouthed, “I love you,” soundlessly.

  It about tore his heart out, and he felt the most overwhelming sense of tenderness and gratitude toward her. He couldn’t imagine his life without Charlotte. He wanted her forever, as his, body and soul. Time to slow this down, get control, make love to her slowly and completely.

  Then she spread her legs in a seductive offer.

  All plans went out the proverbial window. He accepted that he was a selfish brute as he trailed his fingers through her damp curls, swirling around her clit, and opening her for him. She gave little gasps of pleasure and wiggled her hips, drawing her legs farther apart and exposing her pink, moist sex to him. Will put his palms flat on the carpet, moved between her legs, and thrust inside Charlotte, filling her completely.

  He paused to regroup, mouth dry, erection throbbing at the first feel of her body wrapping around his, at the sight of her beneath him, chest heaving, eyes rolling back in pleasure, hair damp with sweat, nipples peaked and deep red. He wanted to savor, but he was too on the edge, too out of control.

  And when she said, “Will, please, God, you feel so good,” he gave up trying to stop himself. He just pounded into her, over and over, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. She made frantic little sounds of pleasure, her cries getting louder each time he sank inside her, and Will knew she was almost ready, felt her legs squeeze around his thighs and her inner walls tense, constricting on his cock. Then she came, back arching up, eyes wide in shock, cry petering off into a strangled gasp, her hips stilling, even as he felt the tremors deep inside her. It was beautiful, surreal, arousing as hell, and he stroked through her orgasm and straight into his.

  Charlotte watched Will above her, and couldn’t imagine that she could ever love him more than she did. She had wanted this, hoped for this, hell, pined for him and a moment like this, but never could she have imagined that when it actually happened, she would feel this whole, this loved, this completely and deeply happy.

  Almost as good as the sex itself was the way he collapsed on the carpet and pulled her tight in next to him, her legs entangled with his. Almost. The sex had been really hot. But it was sweet and comfortable, serene, lying naked with him, the hard planes of his chest warm beneath her hand, his body still partially inside hers.

  “I completely forgot about a condom,” he murmured, his hand stroking her back slowly. “I’m sorry, that was totally irresponsible.”

  “It’s okay, I forgot, too.” And truthfully, Charlotte wasn’t worried about it. She knew Will and where he’d been and it wasn’t anything to be concerned about. As for getting pregnant, she was twenty-nine years old, a successful business owner, and involved with her best friend, the man she loved. A child wouldn’t be a crisis. In fact, she got a little warm and fuzzy inside at the thought of starting a family with him someday. “Would it be awful to say I’m glad we didn’t have latex between us for our first time?”

  “It’s not awful, considering I was thinking the same thing, but it sure as hell isn’t politically correct.” He sighed, and kissed the top of her head. “Damn, sweetheart, that was a good time.”

  She laughed, feeling too satisfied to move. Ever. Despite a shiver that went through her from being naked in December on the floor.

  But Will noticed and said, “You cold? Let me grab a blanket.” He slid out from under her and walked toward his bedroom.

  Charlotte rolled onto her side, resting her head on her arm so she could have a clear view of his tight butt and muscular thighs, his strong back, and chiseled forearms. Will was a fine man in more ways than one, starting with his intelligence and compassion, and ending with that naked ass in front of her. It made her want to lick her lips and start all over again.

  But he disappeared into his room, and when he returned a minute later, he was wearing jeans and holding a blanket in his hand. Her disappointment at having him covered was profound. He looked amazing in jeans, she’d give him that, but she’d been gawking at him clothed for eight years. She’d wanted to linger a bit on his nudity, really get a good eyeful before he covered it all back up. She would have to content herself with the knowledge that she’d be seeing a whole lot of his bare body from there on out.

  “I know it’s freezing outside,” he said as he dropped onto the floor and spread the blanket over her and brushed her hair back off her shoulder. “But would you want to go for a ride? There’s something I’d like to show you.”

  She had absolutely no interest whatsoever in getting dressed and going outside in the snow and freezing wind, but if he had something to show her, she wanted to see it. “Sure.” Trailing her fingers over his bare chest, she smiled at him. “Then when we get back, we can finish putting your tree up. And other things.”

  “What other things?” He grinned.

  “I’ll leave it to your imagination.”

  “I have a very good imagination. I’ve spent a good long time picturing all the things I can do to you.” His eyes had darkened.

  Sounded perfect to her. “Then let’s go. Sooner we go, sooner we get back.”

  WILL LIKED THE GRAY HOUSE. IT WAS SMALL, AMANDA hadn’t exaggerated about that, but it was double the size of his apartment, and it was structurally sound. It had two bedrooms, and a funny little extra room that must have been an outside sleeper porch originally, one and a half baths, and a kitchen, dining room, and living room. Lots of thick woodwork, a brick fireplace, and an old milk chute cut out in the kitchen wall.

  “What do you think, sweetheart?” Will stopped in the living room and looked at Charlotte. Her opinion meant everything in the world to him, because he had every intention of seeing her living in the house with him.

  She had walked through the whole house with him, quiet, but eyes sharply inspecting everything. She’d seemed surprised he was considering buying a house, and maybe a little offended he hadn’t told her. It hadn’t been a secret, he just hadn’t been sure. He’d been waiting for something before he made that big investment. Now he knew just what that was. He’d been waiting for Charlotte. To make the decision to buy
a house together.

  He’d almost given up on that dream. But now here it was, right in front of him, everything he had ever wanted.

  “It’s cute, charming. I like it, Will.” She ran her hand over the fireplace mantel, still the original oak. “It has character. Good bones.”

  “Good. I’m glad you think so, because I like it, too.” Will searched for the right words to convey to Charlotte what she meant to him, how she was his family, his life, his heart. “And I only want to buy this house if you can picture yourself living in it with me.”

  Her head whipped around and her eyes met his, wide with shock. “Excuse me?”

  Will didn’t even hesitate. They’d wasted enough time, he didn’t intend to waste any more. “Charlotte, I know this is moving fast, but we know each other better than a lot of people who’ve been dating for years. I am completely and totally in love with you…You are my very best friend, you are amazing, and I want you to live with me. In this house, or a different one, if you don’t like it. But I want you with me, now, forever.”

  He closed the two feet between them and took her hand. “Will you marry me?”

  Even he hadn’t known he was going to say that last bit. But it just came out, right and strong.

  Charlotte thought Will’s proposal was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard in her entire life. It should have felt surreal, strange, that after all those years of just being friends, they would leap straight to a commitment, but it didn’t. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Will Thornton was the man for her. And now he was going to be her husband.

  Tears popped into her eyes and she touched his cheeks, studying his strong, handsome face. “Yes,” she said, nodding her head rapidly. “God, yes, I will marry you.”

  Then she was kissing him, or maybe he was kissing her, she wasn’t sure which, and it didn’t really matter because they were together, as one, and it was a kiss of pent-up love, past frustrations, present passion, and future happiness.

  “I love you,” he whispered, pulling back a hairbreadth.