Kisses on Her Christmas List

by Susan Meier

  He looked at the mistletoe, looked at her.

  Then it hit her. The mistletoe was pretty, but it was plastic. They’d hung the silly thing in their living room for years and, basically, no one paid any attention to the fact that it was mistletoe or the traditions that surrounded it.

  Obviously, Rory wasn’t so casual about it.

  Embarrassment should have shot through her. Instead, when their gazes met, the warmth of connection flooded her. She really liked this guy.

  But she’d already figured out that they weren’t right for each other. Plus, once he made a decision about her store, they’d never see each other again. They had no time to form a deep emotional attachment. There’d be no time for a real commitment. They’d spend so little time together there wouldn’t even be a brush with one. Was it so wrong to want another kiss?

  It might not be wrong, per se, but it did lead them down a slippery slope. A slope she might not recover from if she actually fell for him in this little span of time they had together. If they fell, and he asked her to stay or asked her to come to Virginia with him, or ask for any kind of commitment at all, she’d have to tell him.

  And she couldn’t do that. Not again.

  She caught his gaze. “We don’t have to bow to the whims of superstition or tradition.”

  He bounced the ball of mistletoe on his palm. “But what if we want to?”

  Frissions of delight raced through her bloodstream. She couldn’t stop the pleasure that blossomed in her chest. But that only made her realize how easily she could fall and how careful she’d have to be spending the next few days with him at the store.

  Still, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. She tapped his arm playfully. “Just hang the darn thing.”

  They hung more tinsel in her dining room and threaded it around her doorways. With the shiny silver tinsel in place, she handed Rory a box of bright blue Christmas-tree balls. “Hang these on the tinsel…about three feet apart.”

  “Okay.” He glanced at Finley, who had finished her dinner and was sitting, watching them. He offered the box to her. “Want to hand these to me?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose.” She scrambled up from her seat beside the coffee table and took the box.

  Shannon gathered their dishes and carried them to the kitchen. When she returned to the living room, Rory and Finley had a little assembly line going. Finley would hand him a blue ball. He’d hang it on the tinsel. By the time he turned for another ornament, Finley already had one in her hand for him.

  “What do you think I should do with the drapes?”

  Rory glanced over. “Do?”

  “Should I loop some tinsel across the top?” She pulled some plastic fir garland from the big box on the floor. “Or maybe some of this fake fir stuff.”

  Finley said, “It’s too green,” surprising both Shannon and Rory.

  “Too green?”

  “Yeah. The curtains are green.”

  Understanding what Finley was saying, Shannon said, “Right. Maybe we should loop some tinsel around the garland so it stands out a bit.”

  “Or just put up lights.”

  “Lights!” Shannon said, liking that idea. “My parents left me all kinds of lights.” She rummaged through the box of ornaments again. She presented two sets. “What do you think? Little twinkle lights or these bigger lights that don’t blink?”

  “I think you’ll see the bigger ones better.”

  Rory laughed at Finley’s answer. “When did you become an expert?”

  Finley’s nose wrinkled. “What’s an expert?”

  “Someone who knows what she’s doing,” Shannon replied. “You’re a natural.”

  Finley shrugged. But Shannon dug out the bigger lights. With her hands full, she kicked a stepstool over to the front window.

  But before she could climb up to reach the top rod, Rory was behind her. “Need help looping those?”

  She turned so quickly that she nearly bumped into him. Warmth exploded through her. So did ridiculous need. She didn’t remember ever being so spontaneously attracted to a man. But she was to him. And she’d already decided it was wrong. Or pointless. Or both.

  She stepped back, putting some necessary space between them. “Just loop them across the top.”

  Finley ran to the step stool. “I’ll help.”

  Rory laughed. “You’re certainly enthusiastic suddenly.”

  She shrugged. “This is kinda fun.”

  Shannon ruffled her hair. “I told you.”

  As Rory and Finley strung the brightly colored lights across the top of the drapes, Shannon rummaged for more decorations from the boxes her parents had left behind when they moved to Florida. She pulled out figurines of two kids skiing and figurines of people sledding and set them out on the end tables. She found a gold table runner and set it on the coffee table with red and green candles.

  Seeing Rory and Finley were still stringing the lights, she decided this would be a good time for her to make some cocoa and headed for the kitchen. But she’d barely gotten the milk in the pan before Rory walked in.

  “After the way you shot me down over the mistletoe, I’m guessing I should apologize for kissing you this afternoon.”

  His comment surprised her so much that she turned from the stove. The repentant look on his face squeezed her heart. Because she’d been as much of a party to that kiss as he’d been, she’d be a real hypocrite if she let him take the blame. “No apology necessary.”

  “Really? Because you’re kind of standoffish.”

  She drew in a breath. What could she say? There’s no chance of a relationship between us, so I’m being careful?She’d look like an idiot. Especially since in this day and age a kiss didn’t necessary equate to a relationship. Hell, for some people sex didn’t necessarily equate to a relationship.

  “I’m tired.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” He took a few more steps into the room, walking to the center island, where she’d set three mugs on a tray. “What’s this?”

  “Mugs for cocoa.”

  He glanced up. Smiled. “I love cocoa. I haven’t had it since I was about eight.”

  “Then it’s time you did.”

  He laughed. “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to apologize for kissing you. I wanted to kiss you.”

  Pleasure exploded inside her again. Why did he have to be so sweet? “Because I make cocoa?”

  “Because you make me laugh. You’re a nice person. A good person. I’d be an idiot if I didn’t see how you’re turning Finley around. She’s actually humming a Christmas song in there.”

  She walked over to the stove, stirred the cocoa mix into the warm milk. “I’m not really doing much of anything. I think Finley’s finally ready to be turned. I just have more Christmas things at my disposal than you do.”

  He shook his head. “No. I think she’s ready because you nudge her along.”

  She walked to the island, brusquely picked up the tray of mugs to take to the counter by the stove. But he caught her hand. “Why won’t you let me compliment you?”

  “Because I’m not doing anything. It’s the season. The time she’s spending at the store.” She shrugged, wishing he’d let go of her hand so she could scamper away. Wishing he’d hold on to it because it felt so good to have a man touch her again. And not just any man. Someone she liked.

  “Well, we’re at the store because of you…so we’re back to you being responsible.”

  Humor crinkled the corners of his eyes, pulled his full lips upward. Her heart stuttered a bit, filled with hope. How easy it would be to simply laugh and accept what was happening. Part of her longed to do just that. To relax. To enjoy. No matter what he decided about the store, they’d separate. She didn’t have to fear get ting involved in something so deep it would force her to tell her big secret.

  But the other part knew that she couldn’t spend another four days with this man without falling head-over-heels in love. She was so needy, so desperate, that every scrap
of attention he threw her drew her in like a kitten to a bowl of fresh milk. She had to keep her distance.

  Still, she argued with her wiser self. Couldn’t she enjoy this, breathe it in, savor it…so she’d have pleasant memories for the long cold nights ahead?

  She didn’t know. If in her desperation she fell in love, those wonderful memories she was creating could actually haunt her.

  So she simply shrugged. “I see myself more as having fun with Finley than being responsible for her turnaround.”

  “And we are a team.”

  She smiled slightly. She’d forgotten they’d formed a team that morning. “You’re right.”

  “Seriously, you’re great with kids. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. His comment wasn’t out of line. It wasn’t even unusual. But she hadn’t been prepared for it.

  She yanked the tray of empty mugs from the center island, effectively pulling her wrist out from underneath his hand and scurried to the stove to grab a ladle to scoop hot cocoa into the mugs.

  “Want to get the marshmallows?” she asked, her voice cracking just a bit.

  He pulled away from the center island. “Sure. Where are they?”

  She pointed. “Second shelf, second cupboard.”

  He opened the cabinet door and pulled out the marshmallows.

  “Grab a bowl from that cupboard over there,” she said, pointing at a cabinet across the room. “And put about a cupful in the bowl. That way you and Finley can take as many marshmallows as you want.”

  He filled the bowl with marshmallows, set it on the tray in the center of the three cups of steaming cocoa. But he didn’t move his hand so she could lift the tray.

  So she stepped away again. “You know what?” She walked to the refrigerator and opened the door of the small freezer section on top. “I have some Christmas cookies from a batch I made last weekend.” She retrieved a plastic bag of fruit horn cookies. “Since Finley’s handling the Christmas music, maybe it’s time to indoctrinate her into cookies.”

  He laughed. “They don’t look like Christmas cookies.”

  But when she brought a plateful of the cookies to the microwave to thaw them, he was in her way again.

  She edged past him, first to get a plate to lay them out on, then to open the microwave door. When she set the timer and turned away, once again he was right in front of her.

  “My little girl had lost Christmas and you’re helping her find it again.”

  “ We’rehelping her find it again,” she pointed out, reminding him of the team they’d formed.

  “It’s more you.” As he said the words, his hands fell to her shoulders and his head descended. She realized his intention about two seconds before his lips met hers, but by then it was too late to pull away.

  Sensation exploded inside her. Sweet, wonderful need. Her arms ached to wrap around his shoulders. Her body longed to step into his, feel the total length of him pressed up against her. But fear shadowed every thought, every feeling. What would he say if she told him she couldn’t have kids? How would he react? Would he be so loving then? Or angry as Bryce had been?

  She swallowed. She didn’t want to test him.

  Still, there was no need. They’d really only just met. In a few days, they’d part. Couldn’t she keep the situation so light that there’d be no worry about falling in love?

  Maybe.

  Hope bubbled up inside her. They also had a built-in chaperone in Finley. He wouldn’t go too far in front of his daughter. Since he was so persistent and she couldn’t seem to evade him, maybe she should just enjoy this?

  It felt incredibly wrong to be wishing a relationship wouldn’t last. Even more wrong to bask in the joy of the knowledge that time and distance would ultimately part them. Right at that moment, with his lips brushing hers and sweet sensation teasing her, she didn’t care. For once in her life she wanted to think of herself.

  That resurrected her wiser self. Even in her head the voice she heard was hard, scolding. Your life is not as simple, your problems not as easily solved, as other women’s. You cannot be flip.

  Just when she knew he would have deepened the kiss, she pulled away. Sadness bumped into anger and created an emotion so strong, so foreign she couldn’t even name it.

  But she did know she was mad at her wiser self.

  You are such a sap. Such a scaredy-cat sap. Surely you can kiss a man, be attracted to a man, enjoy a man without thinking forever?

  The answer came back quick, sharp. No. You can’t.

  She made the mistake of catching his gaze as she stepped back. The confusion in his dark orbs made her swallow hard. But she comforted herself with the knowledge that it was better for both of them if she didn’t explain.

  She picked up the tray. “Let’s get this cocoa to Finley before it’s cold.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  T UESDAY MORNINGShannon walked through the employee entrance of Raleigh’s Department Store a nervous wreck. After the kiss debacle, Rory had gone quiet. He’d enjoyed his cocoa and allowed Finley to drink hers, but he hadn’t stayed after. He’d just gone.

  Absolutely positive she’d blown her opportunity to spend time with Finley—and that she didn’t need to have any more internal debates about how to handle their attraction because she’d pretty much killed any feelings he might have been having for her—she was more than annoyed with her subconscious. Especially when she’d fallen asleep and had a wonderful dream about them. The three of them. Not just her and Rory married, but her and Rory raising Finley.

  She walked through the dark, silent first floor of Raleigh’s. The light coming in from the big front windows reflected off the shiny oversize Christmas ornaments hanging from the ceiling and lit her way to the elevator. Inside, she pressed the button for the third floor and drew in a long, cleansing breath.

  Watching herself interact with a child, even in a dream, had intensified her yearning for her own little boy or girl. She’d awakened with a tight chest and a longing so sweet in her tummy that she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she needed to adopt a child. Or maybe two children. Or maybe a whole gaggle of kids. In her gut, she knew she was made to be a mom. Since Mother Nature had stolen her normal child-getting avenue away from her, she would simply go an alternative route.

  That solid, irrevocable decision was the good effect of the dream. If she wanted to be a mom, she could be.

  But…

  Now that she was so sure she would become a mom, shouldn’t she want to spend as much time as she could with children? Especially one-on-one time like the kind she got with Finley? And shouldn’t she also want to spend time with parents, the way she had in South Carolina? Learning the ins and outs of the things they did automatically. Rory might have stumbled a bit dealing with Finley the Diva, but he did so many things automatically, instinctively. Like get her coat. Slide her little arms into sweaters. Make sure she had ketchup.

  She’d been watching other people with kids her entire adult life, preparing to become a mom. Now that she had up-close-and-personal time with a daddy and daughter, wasn’t she stupid to throw it away?

  She licked her lower lip and remembered every second of both kisses Rory had given her. She remembered the flash of heat that accompanied the sweet, romantic caresses. She remembered the yearning to step into his embrace, the longing to wrap her arms around him, and knew it would be risky to her heart to spend any more time with him.

  But just as quickly, she reminded herself that she wasn’t weak. In the past year, she’d lost a part of herself, then lost her husband because she wasn’t whole anymore. She’d come home. Taken over her family’s store. Gotten over her pain.

  Surely, she could direct a relationship between herself and Rory away from romantic to a place where they could be friends.

  Of course she could. She was strong. Her problems had made her strong. Now that she had sorted all this out in her head and had a solid course of action, she was even stronger. More
determined. With her mind set, she could spend a lifetime in his company and not waver.

  She walked into her dark, quiet office. Turned on the light. She could do this. She woulddo this.

  Twenty minutes later, Rory and Finley strolled in. Finley raced over to her desk and gave her a hug. “I had fun last night.”

  Closing her eyes, she squeezed the little girl affectionately. Without Finley she might have taken years to make her decision to adopt. For as much as Rory thought he owed her with Finley, she knew she owed Finley more.

  “I had fun last night, too.”

  Shannon rose and helped Finley out of her jacket. “Did you bring your laptop?”

  Finley nodded.

  “I have a surprise.” She lifted a new video game off her desk. “I bought you a game.”

  Finley’s face lit up. “What is it?”

  She glanced at the CD. “I’m not sure. Something with frogs and dragons. Wendy said her grandkids love it.”

  Finley eagerly took the game Shannon handed her.

  Shannon laughed and faced Rory. “So what do you want to do today?”

  Obviously avoiding her gaze, he shrugged out of his topcoat. “Chat with the people in advertising and public relations.”

  She pressed her intercom button. “Wendy, we’re ready for you to help Finley install her new game. Mr. Wallace and I will be with advertising.”

  Wendy said, “Great,” and within seconds was in the doorway to Shannon’s office.

  Shannon walked around the desk and headed for the door. “She’s all yours.” She pointed at Rory. “You come with me.”

  Rory swung Finley up and gave her a smacking kiss goodbye. “We’ll be back in time for lunch.”

  Finley said, “Okay,” then slithered down.

  As Rory and Shannon walked out, Finley eagerly raced to Shannon’s chair, where Wendy sat booting up her laptop.

  In the hall, Rory glanced over at Shannon. The night before, she’d acted very oddly with him, refusing to let him compliment her, getting nervously quiet after he’d kissed her. He didn’t need to be hit on the head with a rock. She didn’t want him kissing her.