She pressed a hand to her stomach to keep the quivers from spreading. “What makes me so special? If you don’t mind my asking.”
Silence greeted her question. The warmth disappeared from behind her, and then James was by her side, leaning against the chair rail. “I’ve been trying to answer that same question for two days,” he said, “and damned if I know. All I know is you’ve had me acting out of character since Thanksgiving.
“Damn disconcerting too,” he added under his breath.
“Most men would have answered a little more romantically,” she said.
“I thought you knew by now that I’m not most men. Besides, you wanted me to drop my guard and be honest.”
“Yes, I did,” she replied, and James did not disappoint. What she hadn’t expected was how enticing his honesty would be. Romantic words could be laughed off or discounted, but truth? Truth went right to your heart. Noelle liked that he didn’t know why. Liked that his behavior frustrated him. That made her feel more special than any word ever could.
Suddenly, James wasn’t close enough.
She moved left until they stood face-to-face, hip to hip. “I can’t explain why you get to me either.”
There was heat in his eyes as he wrapped her in his arms. “Then we’ll just have to be confused together.”
CHAPTER TEN
“I KNOW WHAT’S topping my Christmas list this year.”
Beneath Noelle’s cheek, James’s chest rumbled with his husky voice. She tucked herself tighter against his rib cage and let her fingertips ghost across his bare chest. “What’s that?” she asked.
“A couple hundred more nights like this.”
Sounded perfect. “You think Santa can fit them all in his sleigh?”
“He’ll have to make them fit, because I won’t settle for anything less. Wouldn’t want to have to give him a bad online review. You know how he is about naughty and nice and all that.”
“Sounds like someone gets silly when they’re tired,” she said, before planting a kiss on his skin. She liked silly. It was a side of him, she imagined, very few people got to see.
James rolled over and surrounded her in his embrace. They lay together like opposing spoons, with her head on his shoulder. “I’m not that tired,” he said.
A yawn belied his words.
“All right, maybe a little. That was...”
“Amazing?” The word washed warm over her, causing her already boneless body to melt a little more.
“Mmm.”
Noelle hadn’t known. Sex with Kevin had been fine—she hadn’t known anything else—but this... Her skin still hummed from being stroked. It was as if in touching her, James marked her inside and out, each caress and kiss seared into her skin like a brand.
The sensations went beyond physical though. She felt she’d woken from a long, unproductive sleep. When James sent her over the edge, he sent her to a place beyond her body. A place so high and bright, she swore she saw white. She’d wanted to float there forever.
And very nearly did.
James’s fingers were tracing patterns along her arm. In her mind, she imagined them painting lines along her skin. To match the other marks he’d made.
“How about we fly to Boston in the morning, and lock ourselves in my apartment?” he suggested. “We can stay in bed until next year.”
“We’d have to move though.” Physical separation didn’t seem possible at the moment. “Wouldn’t it be easier to stay right here?”
“Uh-uh. Boston’s better.” Sleep was turning his voice into a slur.
“Better than New York?”
“Better than anywhere. You’ll see.”
“I wouldn’t say anywhere,” she replied. “Fryberg’s pretty special too, you know.”
A soft snore stopped her from saying anything more.
So much for pillow talk. Shifting onto her elbow, Noelle used her new position to steal an uninterrupted look at the man beside her. Like she had on his first night in Fryberg, she marveled at James’s beauty. The way all his features worked together to create the perfect face. Not perfect as in perfection, but perfect as in captivating. His cheekbones. His lashes. His parted lips. Leave it to him to make snoring seem attractive.
Awake, he looked older. There was a weight of the world behind his hazel eyes. When he slept, that weight faded, and hints of the boy he must have been leaked through. She would have liked to have known James as a boy. She would have told him he wasn’t alone. She would have made him feel like he belonged, same way the Frybergs did her.
The Frybergs.
Her heart started to race. What had she done? She’d slept with another man. No, not slept with, connected with. What happened between her and James went beyond sex. Her entire love life with Kevin paled in comparison.
She felt awful just thinking the words. But they were the truth. She didn’t feel guilty for sleeping with James; if anything, she felt guilty for enjoying the experience. She wanted to curl up in his arms and when James woke up, make love with him again. For crying out loud, she couldn’t even use the word sex, because it was too inadequate a word.
“Damn you,” she whispered. Why couldn’t he remain the annoyingly dislikable boss she’d met on Wednesday morning? Why’d he have to get all romantic and vulnerable? Someone she could fall for?
If she hadn’t fallen for him already.
She sat up, causing James’s arm to slip away. He grumbled softly before rearranging himself, his head coming to rest on her hip while his arm wrapped around her thigh.
Reflexively, her fingers started combing his hair. The bump under his stitches was beginning to recede, she noticed. That was a good sign. She combed around the unruly patch where the hair and stitches met and tried to ignore the way her heart was expanding.
She was falling for him. Hard. And he was falling for her—there was no way that tonight had been one-sided. No, they might be at the very beginning, but the emotions in this bed had the potential to become something very real and special. It was the last thing she’d expected, but there it was.
The air in the room was suddenly getting close. Her lungs wouldn’t fill. She tried breathing in as hard as she could, but it was as if the air wouldn’t flow past her lips.
Fresh air. That’s what she needed. To clear her head so she could think.
Slipping out from beneath the covers, she padded toward the window only to find it couldn’t open. Apparently New Yorkers didn’t believe in throwing up the sash like they did in Fryberg. Very well, she’d risk a walk. A couple of moments of fumbling in the dark later, she was dressed and slipping out the door.
* * *
The brightness caught her off guard. She was used to seeing stars after midnight, not soft drink billboards and scrolling news feeds. After the soft lighting of their hotel room, the contrast hurt her eyes. Noelle leaned against the icy marble and inhaled. The air was cold and sour smelling. A mixture of body odor and exhaust. A few blocks away, a trio of young women giggled their way toward her. They looked cold with their short jackets and exposed legs. Just looking at them made Noelle stuff her hands deeper into her pockets. If she were smart, she’d turn around and head back inside.
Back to James. No sooner did she think his name than her heart started racing again.
She was scared. She didn’t want to be falling in love.
Was that what was happening? James certainly was someone she could love. Being with him these past two days, she’d felt like a different person. Not Kevin Fryberg’s widow or the infamous Manger Baby, but like herself. For the first time that she could remember, she hadn’t felt grateful for the attention. Maybe it was because they shared similar pasts, but when she was with James, she felt worthy. As though she was the gift.
She should be thrilled by the feeling. Why the
n was she standing panicked and shivering on a New York sidewalk?
“Like I would even be interested in the loser... Not that desperate... She’s such a skank!” The female trio was crossing the street, talking simultaneously. They had their arms linked. Holding each other up, no doubt, since they swayed back and forth as they walked. A blonde on the far end looked to be swaying more than the others, and as they got closer, Noelle realized it was because she was bouncing to a song she was singing. Her movement caused the middle one to pitch forward and stumble.
“What are you looking at?” she slurred as they stumbled past.
Noelle blinked. “Nothing,” she replied, but the trio had already passed on, the blonde turning the air blue as she heaved a string of crude obscenities in her direction. Half the words, Noelle had never heard a person actually say out loud. Feeling like she’d been punched, she tried to flatten herself farther against the building.
Something fuzzy brushed her ankle.
Oh, God, a rat! Noelle shrieked and jumped forward. City rats were rabid, weren’t they? She whipped her head back and forth to see which direction the horrid creature went.
Except it wasn’t a rat at all. It was a hand. A rattily gloved hand that had slipped free of a dark lump. In her distraction, she hadn’t noticed the body rolled up tight against the building. The person moaned and rolled over to reveal a weathered dirty face partially covered by a winter hat. White eyes stared out at her in the darkness as he moaned again. Despite the late hour, there was enough light to see his lips moving. He was trying to tell her something.
Swallowing in nerves, she moved closer and crouched down so she could hear. As she did, she realized he was the source of the sour smell from earlier. Body odor and alcohol swamped her nostrils.
“Do you need something?” she asked, opening her pocketbook. She only had a few dollars on her, but if it would help...
The vulgar name he called her brought her up short.
Her head snapped back. “Wh-what?”
“You ain’t takin’ my vent. Get your own fraking spot. I ain’t sharin’ my heat with nobody.”
The rant pushed her backward. Stumbling, she sat down hard. Tears sprang to her eyes from the impact, but she ignored them as she pushed herself to her feet. The homeless man was waving her off now as well, his voice growing loud and angry.
“I’m—I’m...sorry. I’m leaving right now.” Dropping a handful of bills by his hand—which he snatched while continuing to swear at her—she scurried backward, afraid to turn around until she’d put a safe distance between them. She traveled no more than a yard or two when her foot slipped off the curb. A horn blared. A taxicab had stopped in the intersection.
“Hey, lady. Watch where you’re going!”
Nodding, she hurried across the street, and didn’t stop until she reached a sign indicating an all-night coffee shop. There was a waitress behind the counter playing with her phone. She looked up when Noelle entered, and pointed to an empty stool.
“Counter service only,” she said, before going back to her phone.
Noelle took a seat between two bulky customers, both of whom glared at her desire for space. “Sorry,” she heard herself murmur again.
“Coffee?” the waitress asked.
Not really, but Noelle was too shy to ask for anything else. “Yes, please,” she replied.
The waitress slapped down a mug and a bowl of plastic creamers. Noelle shivered and wrapped her hands around the cup. Everything was so cold all of a sudden. Cold and angry. This was nothing like the New York James had shown her. But then, he’d gone out of his way to show her only the magical parts. What she was seeing now was the other New York, the part that dwelt beneath the twinkling lights and Christmas trees.
The realistic part, James would say. She’d been trying to keep this part of the world at bay since foster care.
What if falling in love with James was like that?
Sure, everything seemed wonderful now, but what if being with him was like New York and what looked beautiful at the beginning turned out to be filled with garish lights and cold, burnt coffee? It had happened before with Kevin. Hadn’t she convinced herself he was the love of her life? What if she woke up one morning and discovered she’d made another mistake? Where would she be then? Who would she be then? She wouldn’t be a Fryberg, not after betraying Kevin’s memory, and they were the only family she’d ever had.
She’d be alone again. Back to the days when she was an outsider at the dinner table. Present but not truly belonging.
Manger Baby.
Suddenly, she felt very small and alone. Add in a few schoolyard taunts and she’d be ten years old again. Lost and longing for a family to call her own.
“You want anything else?” a voice asked.
Noelle looked up to find the waitress looking in her direction. Yeah, she thought, I could use a hug. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
If she were home, Belinda would hug her. Like her son, she hugged fiercely. When a Fryberg encircled you in their arms, nothing in the world could harm you.
You come visit us anytime you want, Noelle. Any friend of Kevin’s is a friend of ours.
Tears sprang to her eyes as Noelle remembered that wonderful first afternoon at Kevin’s house. Had Mr. Lowestein known what he was giving her when he assigned Kevin as her lab partner? One step over the threshold and she had the family she’d always wanted.
And now, Kevin and Ned were dead. Belinda was moving. The store had changed hands. Everything she cared about and deemed important was slipping out of her fingers. If she lost Belinda’s love along with everything else...
She couldn’t lose it. She couldn’t go back to being alone. She needed...
Needed...
“I need to go home.”
Her announcement fell on deaf ears, but it didn’t matter. Noelle knew what she had to do. With any luck, James would understand.
Slapping a five-dollar bill on the counter, she headed outside.
* * *
James woke up to the sound of his cell phone buzzing. At first he tried ignoring the noise by putting the pillow over his head, but no sooner did the call stop, than the phone started buzzing again.
“Whoever it is, they’re fired,” he groaned. Leaning over the side of the bed, he groped along the floor until he found his jacket and dug the phone from the breast pocket. The name on the call screen made his shoulders stiffen.
“It’s the crack of dawn,” he said. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s early afternoon here,” his father replied. “You’re usually up this hour.”
“I slept in.” Sort of. Raising himself on his elbows, he looked to the other side of the bed, only to frown at the empty sheets. Noelle must have slipped into the bathroom. “Is everything all right?” he asked. “You don’t usually call on Sunday mornings.”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” Jackson said in return. “Carli said there was an...” He cleared his throat. “An issue at the Fryberg store the other day.”
How like Jackson to call his being struck in the head an “issue.” “I had a minor accident is all,” he said.
“So everything is all right there?”
“Everything is fine.” He told his father he had the Fryberg deal under control. A bump on the head wouldn’t change anything.
Jackson cleared his throat again. “I’m glad to hear it. Carli didn’t have too many details so I wanted to make certain myself. When I had trouble connecting with you, I thought perhaps there had been a problem.”
“No,” James said. “No problems. I’ve just been very busy here, and with the time change and all...”
“Right. Right. I’m glad...things...are going smoothly.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, like his father was reading something. Multita
sking and distraction were par for the course with Jackson. “When do you think you’ll be back in Boston?”
“I’m not sure.” The irony of his answer made him smile. Three days ago, he’d been champing at the bit to leave. “There are some...developments I want to look into.”
“Developments?”
“Nothing problematic, I assure you.”
On the contrary. If last night was any indication, he was on the cusp of something very significant. Noelle made him feel... He couldn’t think of how to articulate his feelings. Special? Important? Neither word fit. How did he describe his heart suddenly feeling a hundred times larger?
“You’ll keep me advised though, won’t you? I want to know if there are any complications,” his father said. “Doesn’t matter if they are big or small. I’d prefer you not go silent again.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to give you cause for concern.”
“James, I’m always...” There was another pause. A longer one this time.
James couldn’t help the way his breath caught. If he didn’t know better, he’d say his father had been worried. “You’re what?” he asked.
“I’ve decided to stop in Copenhagen before I head home.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t what he was going to say. He looked down at the wrinkles on the sheets beneath him. Like tiny white rivers leading to Noelle’s side.
Maybe it isn’t all about business, she’d said. You still have hope.
What the hell. It was worth a try. “Hey, Dad?” The word felt odd on his tongue from lack of use. “Do you remember going into Boston to see the window displays?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific. I examine the window displays every year.”
“This was with me and Justin and...and Mom. Back when we were...” A family. “We went to see Santa Claus.”
“I remember your mother hated those trips. She only went because Justin insisted. Why?”
So much for his wonderful family memory. “I was thinking about repeating one of the designs next year. Vintage is very trendy right now.”
Christmas with Her Millionaire Boss Page 13
