She choked on her lemonade. “We’re not dating.”
“My family doesn’t know that. If anyone asks what our first date was, we can tell them this place.”
“Couldn’t we just tell them we met at Timberline?”
“That wasn’t a date. I didn’t pay for your lift ticket.”
He was teasing her. She was tempted to play along. Part of her wanted the fantasy that this was a date. A real one.
But Zoe knew better. Even if things were different, Sean Hughes didn’t have the time to make a relationship work. He’d said so himself. She was tired of being someone’s afterthought. She didn’t want to do that again.
She took another sip of her drink. The strawberry lemonade tasted bittersweet. “I didn’t realize pretend relationships had dating rules.”
“They follow regular dating rules, which reminds me—” Sean raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it “—official dates should include a kiss.”
Zoe’s hand tingled at the spot his lips had touched her skin. “Shouldn’t you have to walk me to the door?”
“That’s a given. We live together.”
The way he said “together” sent a ball of heat zipping through her.
Not good.
She sipped her ice water. “So what’s next?”
“How does taking my pretend girlfriend to work sound?”
“What if your real-life caretaker thinks you should go home instead?”
“I’d tell her I feel great,” he said. “If that didn’t work I’d remind her I’m the boss and the doctor said it was okay.”
“Guess we’re going to work, then.”
Zoe was curious, interested to see the man, not the patient she’d been spending time with. Maybe what she learned about Sean would make her struggle to be responsible easier to handle.
She parked the truck at Hughes Snowboards and slid out. By the time she’d reached the back, Sean was waiting for her.
“You’re fast on the crutches,” she said.
He negotiated his way through the gray slush in the parking lot. “I’ve had some practice using them before.”
Worry had her biting her lip. “I guess you’ve had a lot of injuries as a rescue worker.”
“I’ve never been injured on a mission,” he explained. “Rescuer safety is our number one priority.”
“Then how did you get hurt?”
“I climb for fun and ride as much as I can. I’m careful, but stuff happens.”
“Like equipment breaking.”
“Or rock fall and a hundred other things.” He winked at her. “Good thing I’m a fast healer.”
“Yeah. A fast healer.” Zoe tried to muster some enthusiasm, but failed miserably. The bad news kept coming. She’d thought Sean might need her help into January. Now she wondered if he’d need her past Christmas. As she followed him into the factory, she dragged her feet. “That’s a very good thing.”
Over the noise of machines and the buzz of fans, music blared from speakers. Snowboarding posters covered the walls along with brightly colored banners with Hughes, Catch Some Air and Ride printed on them. She recognized a couple of people who had visited Sean at the hospital and at home.
Sean waved at one employee. Another hugged him. Everyone looked happy to see him back. He smiled, looking alert and confident and in complete control, as if he hadn’t spent the past two weeks sitting on the couch playing games, reading and watching television.
“This place is big,” she said.
“Burton has nothing to worry about from us.” Sean stopped to check a board being built. “We have a niche market, but we’re seeing steady growth in a couple of sectors. We’re adding new product lines and expanding old ones.”
Sean had always come across as intelligent. They’d had long talks about politics, economics and a whole bunch of other subjects, but today he seemed so different.
This was one of the first days she’d seen him in clothing other than shorts and T-shirts. Aunt Vera had modified a pair of khaki pants for him to wear over his encased left leg. The colors in his long-sleeved shirt brought out the green in his hazel eyes. But the differences she saw went deeper than his apparel.
He wasn’t Hank and Connie’s son or a mountain rescue volunteer. Sean was a businessman, a successful one given the size of his factory and the number of employees who worked for him.
She was impressed and intimidated. “You love what you do.”
“Best job in the world.” He thought for a moment. “Except when the prototype binding I designed broke on Thanksgiving Day. That pretty much sucked.”
“I know how that hurt you personally, but I didn’t even think about how it could impact your business.”
“Business is fine,” Sean reassured her. “I’ve also gotten to spend time with you. So the accident wasn’t all bad.”
Zoe’s pulse skittered.
His acceptance of what had happened and his reassurance to her was so different from her family’s reaction whenever something went wrong. They would point fingers and assign blame. No one ever saw the silver lining like Sean.
Her respect for him grew.
“Let me show you the other building,” he said.
Zoe heard the pride in his voice. Despite her worries he might be overdoing it, she wanted to see more of this side of him.
They exited the factory via thick double doors, crossed beneath a covered walkway and into another building, one that looked newer. She noticed the quiet right away. No music or machines. Poster-size snowboarding photographs lined the walls. Cubicle walls filled the open space with three offices along the side wall.
“We have a retail shop in Hood Hamlet that Tim runs,” Sean said. “Everything else is sold on the Internet or by distributors.”
“Argh! I hate pink,” a male voice said. “Why don’t they just buy Roxy or some other chick brand?”
“Excuse me,” Sean said and made his way toward a cubicle near the back. Zoe followed.
Energy drink cans and candy bar wrappers littered a desk. A twentysomething guy with shoulder-length brown hair stared at a computer monitor. He looked totally dejected.
“What’s up, Taylor?” Sean asked.
“This custom top sheet, dude.” Taylor pointed to the monitor and a sorry-looking snowboard that resembled the color of medicine used to calm an upset stomach. “Customer wants something ‘unique’ for his seven-year-old daughter. She likes pink and princesses.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got.” Sean stared at the monitor. “Okay, you’ve got the pink covered. The swirl of stars is a nice touch, but it doesn’t say princess yet. Try to think like a seven-year-old girl.”
Taylor groaned. “Dude, this is just wrong. It’s like drawing with my own blood. It’s killing me.”
Zoe covered her mouth to hide her smile.
“Come on, kid,” Sean encouraged. “You’re my best graphic designer.”
“I’m your only one since Cocoa left for Vermont.”
“You can do it.” Sean patted Taylor’s shoulder. “The little girl riding this board could be a future gold medalist. Let that inspire you.”
Taylor gave him a look. “Princesses don’t shred, man.”
Zoe pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Poor Taylor. No doubt this was a galaxy—make that a fairy-tale kingdom—away from his comfort level. “Could I make a suggestion?”
Both Sean and Taylor looked her way.
Sean motioned her into the cubicle. “Taylor, this is Zoe. She knows more about princesses and the color pink than either of us could ever hope to.”
“Do you have a piece of scratch paper?” she asked.
Taylor shoved white paper and a pen into her hands. “If you can save me from this misery, the first round of drinks is on me.”
“Let’s see if this helps.” Zoe thought back to one of her favorite art classes from college. She sketched Taylor’s basic star design and added in some wands, crowns, glass slippers and flourishes that matche
d the way he’d drawn the stars. She saw a set of colored pencils on the desk. Her fingers itched. “If I had more time…”
“Take all the time you want. Whatever you need,” Taylor said.
Zoe opened the metal case of pencils and pulled out three different shades of pinks. With rapid strokes, she feathered in the design using all three colors, explaining as she drew. “Try starting with a softer pink. Overlay darker shades so you get a mix. That will add some texture, too. See?”
She showed them her drawing.
“Dude, that’s totally rad.” Taylor stared at the drawing. “I mean, Zoe. Thanks.”
Sean stared at her with gratitude in his eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”
“You’re both welcome.”
“Everything cool now?” Sean asked his designer.
Taylor’s nod was barely perceptible. He was too busy working.
She followed Sean out of the cubicle.
“Do you have a background in design or does it come naturally?” he asked.
“I have a degree in fashion design, but no job experience,” she said. “My family thought my major was a huge waste of time and effort, but I love working with shape and color. I figured since they’d eventually force me to attend graduate school for business or law, I could afford to indulge myself as an undergrad.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t recognize your talent.”
His words sent her confidence soaring. “My mother thought my designs were cute doodles.”
“Unbelievable,” Sean said. “The Christmas tree, the top sheet. You’ve got an incredible eye. You’re good at what you do, Zoe.”
“Thanks.” Inside her suede boots, she wiggled her toes. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“You’ve been hanging with the wrong crowd, then.”
She stared up at him. “You might be right.”
“You should think about using your degree.”
The idea of working in design had never crossed Zoe’s mind. She’d always believed her brothers had been right about her degree being worthless in the real world, the business world they inhabited. “Maybe I will once you’re better and it’s time for me to…”
“There’s no reason for you to think about finding another job right now,” Sean said.
She hadn’t been thinking about a job. She’d been thinking about having to leave.
“I still need you,” he continued.
Good. She liked him needing her. And until this moment she hadn’t a clue what she might do once he no longer did. Getting a job couldn’t be that hard. After all the fashion shows and benefits she’d attended over the years, she had contacts in the industry. Her notoriety might even come in handy for once.
Zoe glanced at Sean.
But finding a job would mean leaving Hood Hamlet, most likely Oregon. She didn’t want to think about leaving right now. Not until after Christmas. Maybe not at all.
On Saturday, Sean couldn’t believe this was his house.
“Jingle Bell Rock” played on his stereo. The scents of spiced apple cider lingered in the air. A buffet of finger foods and desserts lined the kitchen island.
Zoe supervised a bunch of kids making ornaments at the dining table. She was laughing and encouraging them, glue on her fingers and glitter in her hair. Sean smiled. She looked like his own personal Christmas angel.
Outside, his dad, uncles and cousins hung Christmas lights on the front of Sean’s house and his back deck. But today, Sean didn’t even mind being stuck inside. Today he could touch and kiss Zoe all he wanted. For his family’s sake, even though it was really for his own.
Connie put her arm around Sean and gave him a squeeze. “I’m so happy Zoe and you wanted to do this.”
“It was mainly her, Mom.”
“But you could have said no.” His mother gave him another hug. “Thank goodness you didn’t listen to us going on about settling down. I’m glad you waited for Zoe. The two of you are good together.”
Sean took a sip of eggnog. He’d been hearing that a lot today from his family. Aunt Vera had danced an actual jig when she saw the three stockings hanging on the fireplace.
Normally, his family’s interference drove him up the wall. Yet today he didn’t mind so much. Maybe it was the eggnog. Maybe, whispered a little voice in the back of his mind, it was Zoe. “She’s a great girl,” Sean said.
“Don’t forget about your grandmother’s ring in the safe-deposit box.”
“Mom.” He didn’t really mind their interference. Not when their presence in his house made it possible for him to get his hands on Zoe. But they were still playing roles, he realized, with his family and with each other. He was getting tired of it.
“Just a friendly reminder.” Connie’s smile widened. “I’m not trying to push you into anything. That seems to be happening all on its own.”
Sean couldn’t disagree with her about that. He and Zoe were getting closer. Granted, they spent most of their waking hours together. Attraction simmered, yet they continued to only exchange chaste kisses and hugs. Mostly for show. Unfortunately.
“Oh, boy,” Connie said. “Aunt Vera has a sprig of mistletoe and she’s headed Zoe’s way. You better get over there before someone else gets a kiss.”
No one was going to kiss his girl. Sean gripped the handles on his crutches. “On my way, Mom.”
“Oh, Rebecca.” Zoe stared at the wood ornament covered in gold, red and pink glitter. “What a pretty star. I love it.”
Rebecca, the six-year-old daughter of Mary Sue and Will Townsend, beamed. “It’s for you, Zoe.”
“Thank you.” Zoe hugged Rebecca, the epitome of sugar and spice and everything nice. “Do you want to hang it on the tree?”
The little girl’s brunette ponytail bobbed as she nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
“Here comes the mistletoe,” Aunt Vera said in a singsong voice. “Who’s going to get a kiss?”
Two young boys grimaced, as if kissing were the yuckiest thing that could happen. A couple of girls raised their hands, wanting to be picked.
Aunt Vera stopped behind her. “It looks like…Zoe.”
Zoe looked up to see mistletoe hanging over her head. “Who shall I kiss?”
“It better be me or there will be blood,” Sean said.
Anticipation quickly replaced the amusement in his eyes. Zoe knew exactly how he felt. She wet her lips.
“Stand up, girlie,” Aunt Vera said. “The boy’s on crutches.”
Zoe rose.
Sean stood with his crutches pressed up near his armpits and held out his arms to her.
She went to him, knowing everyone was looking at them.
He’d made no secret of wanting her, but as long as she pretended to Sean and to herself kissing was for show, it wouldn’t have to lead anywhere. As long as they had an audience, kissing him was safe.
Sean’s mouth captured hers without a moment’s hesitation. His lips moved with a tenderness that made her ache. Once again, he made her feel cherished, special, desired.
The taste of him made her drunk, as if someone had spiked the cider.
His arms circled Zoe. He pulled her closer.
She went eagerly, pressing against his strong, hard chest.
The kiss heated up. His tongue tasted, explored her mouth. She was awash in sensation. She struggled to remain in control, knowing people, children, could see them.
It wasn’t easy.
Days, okay, weeks, of pent-up longing poured out and went into her kiss. Zoe’s hands splayed his back. She could feel the muscular ridges beneath his shirt.
Her pulse raced. Her blood boiled. She didn’t want to stop kissing him.
“Get a room,” one of his cousins yelled.
The kiss came to an abrupt end. Zoe backed away from Sean at the same time he backed away from her.
Embarrassed by getting so carried away, Zoe stared at the floor. She could only imagine how she looked. She felt hot, as if someone had cranked the therm
ostat. Her lips felt bruised, swollen, tingly.
Her gaze met Sean’s. The desire in his eyes sent her already-racing pulse skittering. He wanted to kiss her again. Good, because she wanted to kiss him again, too. And again. And again. And…
A sudden chill shivered down her spine. Her breath stilled in her chest. She couldn’t pretend anymore, to Sean or to herself.
His family had returned to what they were doing. Decorating, hanging ornaments, eating. Soon they would leave. She and Sean would be alone.
Alone.
Free to do whatever they wanted to.
For real.
That made her realize how dangerous it was to be living alone with him. To her heart and to her mother’s campaign.
“I’ll have to leave the mistletoe here,” Aunt Vera quipped.
Two of Sean’s cousins nudged each other.
Zoe forced a smile. She glanced at the newspapers covering the table where the kids painted and glued. She could imagine the tabloid headlines if they found out she was living with Sean, not as his caretaker, but as his…
She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Staring deeply into her eyes, Sean tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Her heart went pitter-pat.
“We’ll pick this up later,” he whispered.
Oh, no. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Neither one of them was pretending now, but how could she admit the truth?
Zoe Flynn Carrington, party girl, wild child, governor’s exiled daughter, was falling in love.
And she didn’t know what to do about it.
But with her mother’s special election and ultimatum hanging over her, Zoe couldn’t let her impulses or her hormones plunge her into another scandal. No matter how she felt about Sean.
CHAPTER NINE
SEAN waved goodbye to his parents, the last ones to leave the party. He closed and locked the front door. Now he and Zoe wouldn’t be disturbed if someone had forgotten something.
The mind-blowing kiss from this afternoon had been on his mind for hours. If not for his cousin’s heckling, Sean would have kept kissing Zoe. He’d completely forgotten about their audience. He’d forgotten everything except her. He wanted to feel that way again. “I finally have you all to myself.”
Christmas Magic on the Mountain Page 13
