by Lori Wilde
She got dressed in blue jeans and a long-sleeved blue sweater and sneakers. After pulling her hair into a ponytail, she stepped out onto the landing. On the ground below was an elaborate six-foot plywood rendition of Santa’s sleigh and eight reindeer, but instead of a regular Santa at the helm, the caricature of a purple horned frog in a Santa suit guided the sleigh.
“What are you going to do with Santa’s sleigh?” she asked, leaning over the railing to see Nate at the top of the ladder against the side of the building.
“Put it on top of the roof.”
“By yourself?”
“See why I need help?”
“Fine.” She blew out a breath. “I’d hate to have to hose your broken body off the parking lot.”
“I knew you’d see it my way.”
She couldn’t help smiling. What was it about this guy she found so charming? He had none of Peter’s slick, sophisticated ways.
Precisely.
Listen, she lectured herself as she clambered down the stairs. You are not getting involved with anyone. So there’s a little chemistry here. So you’re enjoying flirting with him. Big deal. It doesn’t mean a darned thing.
She rounded the bottom of the stairs, walked over to the ten-foot metal ladder and peered up. Up the rungs, up the long, lean legs of Nate Deavers. Stared up at the most spectacular butt she’d ever seen in a pair of snug-fitting blue jeans. She put up a hand to shield her eyes, more to focus exclusively on that butt than to block the sun.
He glanced down. “You made it.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Let me come down and I’ll show you.”
She stood back, and when he was on the ground, he turned to face her.
“Aw, you,” he said. “You changed out of the Betty Boop shirt.”
“It was a nightshirt. Of course I changed out of it.”
“I like Betty Boop. She’s feisty and cute.”
“She’s a cartoon.”
“You surprised me with the Betty Boop shirt.”
“In what way?”
“I had you pegged as a La Perla kind of woman.”
Honestly, she did own some La Perla lingerie. “I’m surprised you know what that is.”
“Just because I live in a small town doesn’t make me ignorant.”
“I never said it did.”
“You can make it up to me by taking me to lunch.”
“Make what up to you?”
“The stereotyping.”
“Hey, you were stereotyping me with the Betty Boop remark.”
His jaw pulled down at the same time his mouth pulled up. “Well, you do have a point. Okay, you convinced me with the validity of your argument. I’ll take you to lunch.”
“How about you have lunch on your own and I’ll have lunch on my own.”
“Now what would be the fun in that?” He grinned.
“You’re a tease.”
His eyes went somber. “Not usually, but there’s something about you, Shannon, that makes me feel like teasing.”
She placed a palm to her heart. “Oh, so this is my fault?”
His eyes twinkled invitingly. “I’m glad you realize that.”
“I’m here to work. If you don’t have something for me to do . . .”
“Yes, okay, we’re being serious now.” He pulled a rolled-up piece of paper from his back pocket and showed her the diagram of where he was going to put up the decorations. They set to work.
By lunch, they were more than halfway finished with their task.
“Thanks,” he said. “With your help, that went much faster than I thought it would. But it’s break time.” He rubbed his palms together. “C’mon, I’ll take you to my favorite lunch spot.”
Shannon’s shift didn’t start until six, so she had the day to hang out with Nate if she wanted. The question was, did she want to? Before she could ponder the thought, Nate grabbed her elbow and guided her to an old red Chevy pickup truck.
She was surprised to find the inside of his pickup spotless. She hadn’t expected such cleanliness from a bachelor. At least she hoped he was a bachelor. It occurred to her for the first time that he might be married. He didn’t wear a ring, and he flirted like a single man, but that didn’t mean anything.
“Are you married?” she blurted.
An amused smile turned up the corner of his mouth. “No, are you?”
“Not anymore,” she said resolutely.
“Bad breakup?”
“The worst.”
“I would say that I’m sorry to hear that, but you know what?” He stopped the truck before merging from the parking lot onto the main thoroughfare and turned to look at her. “I’m glad the guy was a stupid chump, because otherwise you wouldn’t be here with me now.”
“He was a lot more than a chump.” On their drive into town, Shannon told him briefly that her ex-husband had turned out to be a con man who’d drained her bank account. She almost slipped and told him about Earl Pringle’s visit the previous Christmas and had to bite her tongue to keep the words from slipping out. She wasn’t very adept at pretending to be something she wasn’t.
“Ah,” Nate said. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Why you’re so classy. You come from money.”
“Not so much after Peter got hold of me.”
“You’re going to prosecute him, right?”
She shrugged. “That’s what I’ve spent the last year trying to do, but he skipped the country.” Shame burned through her. “I was so dumb. Falling for his slick con.”
“You weren’t dumb. You were an open, loving person who got taken advantage of.” Nate reached a hand over and placed it lightly on her knee. Immediately, static electricity snapped between them. “Damn,” he said, pulling his hand away. “Is this going to happen every time I touch you?”
“It’s the dry weather,” she said.
“I think it’s more than that.” His voice was low, sultry.
Heart in her throat, leg still tingling from his touch, she cocked her head and shot him a sideways glance. His dark hair was swept back off his forehead, and his skin was deeply tanned. The faint sprinkles of gray at his temples declared him an experienced man. He was big and broad-shouldered, but he was pure muscle. A man who’d spent his life doing vigorous outdoor work.
She wondered what he did for a living but decided not to ask. That would have opened the door to him asking her questions, and if she wasn’t careful she’d end up disclosing her true identity. She wasn’t ready for that yet.
Nate pulled up to a tiny building scarcely more than a shack. Perched on the roof was a red-and-white wood sign proclaiming: The Lunch Box. The drive-through line was ten cars deep.
“This is your favorite lunch spot? A drive-through restaurant?”
“Nope, this is the place to come for the best burgers in the state. The spot is somewhere else.” He turned in his seat to rake his gaze over her. “Please don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.”
“What if I said I was?”
“I’m afraid you’d be out of luck. I have no idea who serves the best tofu in town.”
She grinned. “Relax, I’m a carnivore.”
“Thank God,” he said, rolling his eyes heavenward.
“That might have offended a vegetarian.”
“If my preference for meat was a deal-breaker, I figured it was better to know now than after.”
“After what?”
“After we start dating.”
“Oh, is that right?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t get a say in the matter?”
“Are you going to tell me that you’re not intrigued by this startling electricity?”
She opened her mouth to den
y she felt anything, but she couldn’t do it. Just looking at him made her go warm and gooey inside. “Listen, Nate. I like you. You’re a handsome man, but I told you about Peter—”
“The chump.”
“—for a reason. It’s only been a year. I’m still putting the pieces of my life back together.”
His truck engine rumbled quietly as they waited in line at the drive-through, the keys on his chain swinging rhythmically. The sun beat through the windshield, heating the dash and warming up the inside of the truck in spite of the fifty-degree weather outside.
“I get it,” he said. “You’re scared. So am I. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way. Hell, I wasn’t ever really expecting to feel this way again, but I’m edging up on forty. Not getting any younger, and I’ve come to realize just how precious life is. When you find something great, you owe it to yourself to at least explore the possibility.”
“There’s a fine line between sweeping a girl off her feet and scaring the hell out of her,” she whispered.
His smile widened into a grin. “How am I doing on the balancing act?”
She waggled her hand in a teeter-totter motion.
“I’m a straightforward guy. There’s no hidden agenda with me. In fact, I hate secrets and especially in my intimate relationships.”
The thought of an intimate relationship with Nate sent a thrill through her. Hold on. Put on the brakes. This is too fast. Not only that but the man just said he hated secrets. And you’re in no position to come clean. Not yet.
“I think we’d enjoy hanging out with each other,” he said. “I’m not asking for anything beyond that, but if you need more time, I understand.” He took his hands off the steering wheel, held them up in a gesture of surrender. “Absolutely no pressure.”
It was their turn at the drive-through window. Nate ordered two Lunch Box specials. He passed the white paper bag redolent with the smell of cooked onions over to her. Her mouth watered. A few minutes later, he pulled up at a public picnic area on a small bluff overlooking Lake Twilight.
They got out. The breeze rolling in off the lake made her shiver.
“Hold on,” Nate said and sprinted back to the truck. He returned with a warm down jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
She poked her arms through the sleeves, laughing at how it swallowed her up. The jacket smelled of him. Manly. Woodsy. Authentic.
“You look cute as hell,” he said. “Cosmopolitan woman gone native.”
“Thanks.” She chuckled. “I think.”
They ate their burgers, sitting side by side, looking out at the lake. Waves lapped at the shore. Across the water, several piers had been decorated with wreaths and red plastic bows. The boats docked at the Marina bobbed jauntily.
They didn’t speak, just enjoyed the food. It wasn’t awkward at all. In fact, the silence was welcome. By nature, Shannon was quiet, introspective. Apparently, Nate was as well. One thing they had in common.
When they finished, they wiped juice from their fingers on blue-and-red napkins stenciled with The Lunch Box logo. Nate handed her cinnamon candy that had come in the bag and took the second one for himself. The cellophane crinkled between her fingers as she unwrapped the mint. The spicy taste enlivened her tongue.
“Would you like to take a walk?” Nate nodded at the serpentine walking path that ran beside the lake.
She could say no. Maybe she should say no. Instead, Shannon nodded. “I’d like that.”
Round, fruitless pear trees had been planted along the path. Strands of Christmas lights had been wound around the trunks and woven through the limbs. At night, with the twinkle lights aglow, she imagined it looked quite festive.
They walked abreast, passing a row of park benches. Their shoes occasionally crunched on the fallen leaves the wind gusted across their path. Nate reached out and lightly bumped the side of his right hand against her left. An invitation?
Shannon caught her breath. She turned her hand outward, revealing her palm.
He made a noise of satisfaction, so soft she wondered if she’d imagined it. He pressed his palm against hers and interlaced their fingers. It was so easy, holding hands with him. Surprisingly intimate. She hadn’t held hands with a man in years. Probably not since high school.
They reached a point where the path forked, one branch going on around the lake, the other branch leading to downtown Twilight. Nate paused, uncoupling their hands. Her heart did an odd little stumble. A fish jumped from the water, tail slapping as it fell back under the surface. A flock of small birds flew overhead. In the distance, holiday music played. Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas.
Shannon looked up into Nate’s face. Maybe she would have a good Christmas this year.
“It’s nice here,” he said, as if reading her mind, and held her gaze with steady certainty.
Shannon itched to run her fingertips over the scruff of beard that had sprouted on his face since that morning. He lowered his eyelids halfway, giving him a sexy, sleep-rumpled appearance and exposing long, thick jet-black lashes. Staring at him, she felt a compelling clench deep inside her belly.
He lowered his head.
Shannon rolled her fingernails into her palms. The look in his eyes told her exactly what he was intending on doing. If she were smart, she’d turn and flee. But she’d married Peter, hadn’t she? Proving she was not smart. Not smart at all. Not all guys are con men. Not everyone wants to take advantage of you, and then abandon you. But Peter had. Raylene had. Even her father, who would mainly show up to trot her out for publicity photos before disappearing again with the femme du jour on his arm.
She wasn’t ready for this. Wasn’t up to a man like Nate. It was easier to be suspicious and distrustful than to open her heart again and take a big risk.
Too bad, because he smelled so very good—provocative and appealing. She dug her fingernails deeper into her palms, felt the tiny pinches of pain. She was so aware of this big man. So utterly fascinated. Her body felt achy, twitchy, in a way she’d never quite experienced before.
His head dipped even lower, his cinnamon-scented breath warming her skin. His eyes were the color of cocoa beans, dark and deep. She wanted to sip him like coffee.
“Shannon,” he murmured.
The way he spoke her name sent a throb of sexual hunger unfurling through her veins. Instead of turning and running away as a prudent woman would have done, she tilted her chin up to him.
A pulse of a minute passed. Then two. They were locked together, their gazes chained to each other.
“Nate,” she whispered. “Nate.”
His arm went around her waist, and he drew her close. A soft sigh slipped from her lips, quick and heady. His mouth barely touched hers, landing like a butterfly on a rose. Behind it, she could feel the masculine power he kept leashed. His tongue was warm and cinnamon tangy. He tasted like hope.
And that scared Shannon most of all.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nate heard music. Angels singing. Bells ringing. Hallelujah.
From the very moment he’d laid eyes on Shannon, he’d wanted her. But he’d been completely unprepared for the taste of her sweet little mouth. He’d meant just to brush his lips against hers, a promise of more to come.
But when she’d parted her lips and sunk against his chest, well, there was only so much a man could take. He cupped her chin in his palm and held her face still, while he fully explored that glorious mouth. Even through the down of his jacket, he could feel her trembling. She was scared.
Hell, he was scared, too.
When he finally broke the kiss and pulled back, her golden brown eyes had gone murky, and she gazed at him with a look of desire and confusion so intense he could feel it. Her body tensed in his arms, ready to bolt.
He couldn’t blame her. He’d come on too strong. He should not have kissed her. It was
too soon. He might have blown the whole thing. Scared her off for good.
Even so, he couldn’t resist kissing her again.
The sweet moan of pleasure slipping from her lips cut straight through him. The next thing he knew, her fingers were threaded through his hair and she was pulling his head down in a kiss so blistering that if he was to strip off his clothes and jump into the lake, his heat would kill all the fish in the water.
After a long, hard, desperate kiss, she dragged her mouth away. Her chest was heaving, her eyes wide and her lips wet with his moisture.
They blinked at each other.
“Again!” she exclaimed.
Laughing, Nate kissed her a third time. He gently bit her bottom lip and then rolled his tongue over her upper lip. He placed a hand to the small of her back, pressing her tight against him. He kissed her chin, her throat, and he must have found an erogenous zone, because she gasped and clung to him. “God, you taste good.”
“Cinnamon candy.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you. The taste of Shannon. Sweet and sexy. All woman.”
Her laugh was nervous. Somewhere along the way, the band that had held her hair in a ponytail had come out, and the wind sent a fall of lush brunette locks dancing about her slender shoulders.
He ran two fingers over her cheeks. “I want you, Shannon.”
She sucked in her breath, moved back. Nate released her immediately. Why had he said that? Dammit. He seemed to be saying and doing all the wrong things.
“This is . . . I can’t . . .” She swallowed visibly. “Please take me back to the Horny Toad.”
“I . . .” He cleared his throat. “Okay.”
In silence, they headed back to his truck. This time, the quiet was anything but companionable. Nate had screwed up, and he could only pray the damage wasn’t irreparable.
Two nights later, the Watcher waited. Standing sentinel in the juniper bushes. The Christmas lights from the roof of the Horny Toad blinked and twinkled in a rotating flash pattern.
The fact that Shannon Dugan was living in the upstairs apartment came as a surprise. What had gone on inside the bar the day she’d arrived? Had Raylene so quickly accepted the daughter she’d once left behind? And if so, why put her to work as a cocktail waitress and send her to live in that tiny loft apartment? And why had Shannon stayed?
