All I Want for Christmas...: Christmas KissesBaring It AllA Hot December Night

by Lori Wilde

  “Ah, it’s time for me to take my place.” Santa waved a goodbye and headed toward the throne in the winter wonderland Kristen had created.

  When Jason turned back to the party he sucked in a breath.

  Kristen was across the room in a gold dress, looking like a princess out of a fairy tale. Her hair was back to its usual color and piled on top of her head in a mass of curls.

  Not a princess, a goddess.

  Down, boy.

  He took a deep breath trying to calm his body. Every night he’d ached for her. Every time he’d seen her during the week it had taken all of his will to keep from reaching out and touching her. During their last committee meeting she had licked her lips and he’d nearly groaned in front of everyone. He wasn’t sure how much more his mind and body could take.

  The music swelled and an idea popped into his head. He should ask her to dance.

  Moving across the floor like a tiger on the prowl, he went after his prey.

  * * *

  THE MAN WORE a tuxedo like a male supermodel. It wasn’t fair, Kristen decided as she watched the heads of almost every woman, and a few men, turn in the room.

  Darn you, Jason Turner. Why do you have to be so hot and irresistible?

  He was heading her way. She wanted to run, but her feet would not cooperate.

  “You’re an idiot,” her friend Callie said. “If that man wanted in my bed for any reason, I’d jump on him like a bear on honey. If you don’t want him, I’ll take him. I can’t wait to lick—”

  “Touch him and die,” Kristen said through her teeth as she smiled at some of the guests walking by.

  Callie laughed. “Well, hon, you can’t have it both ways. You either give him up so the rest of us can play with him, or you take him for yourself.”

  Oh, I’m going to take him.

  Her breath caught as he neared.

  “Let’s dance,” he said holding out a hand. He didn’t ask, he ordered.

  She liked it.

  As they moved onto the dance floor she could hear her friend laughing.

  “The party is a great success,” he said as his arm wrapped around her waist. “Word is that you’ve raised more than enough money to get the repairs started and the donations are still coming in.”

  The response from her body shocked her. Heat from his touch spread like wild fire through her body. If he hadn’t been holding her so tightly, she would have stumbled.

  “You had a lot to do with it,” she said. Her voice sounded much stronger than she’d expected.

  “I’m not sure what you mean. I just helped out with the committee.”

  She touched his cheek with her fingertips. “You did a great deal more than that. Agnes told me about the tree and the lights—and tonight with all of this food. How did you do it?”

  He turned her on the dance floor. “I pulled in a few favors with some friends. And the guys at the firehouse are great cooks, as are most of their wives.”

  “The food is perfect. I thought you had called in a professional caterer.”

  “Well, for future reference, you won’t find a tougher sell than a fireman when it comes to food, at least at our station. The guys are constantly trying to outdo one another. And they know how to make food for large crowds.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Her hand squeezed the one he held. “I could not have done this without you.”

  “That’s crazy. You had it all organized. If I hadn’t stepped in, you would have found a way around your problems.”

  She frowned. “Why? After everything I said to you a week ago. Why would you help me?”

  Jason smiled. “If you haven’t figured that part out yet, well, I can’t help you.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she said honestly. “I know you are an incredible human being. But you must have limits when it comes to stupid people. I’m not sure I could have been as forgiving if the situation had been reversed.”

  “Kristen,” Jason whispered near her ear. “I’m not altruistic. Trust me when I tell you that I had ulterior motives.”

  “You did?”

  The music changed to a slower pace.

  He pulled her tighter. “Yes, I love you.”

  He loved her. It was so much more than she could have hoped for.

  “I love you, too. I’m sorry, I’ve been such an idiot,” she said. “And a coward.”

  His eyebrow rose. “Don’t ever call yourself an idiot again. You are a bright, beautiful and successful woman.”

  “I haven’t been so bright when it comes to you. But that has changed. That is, if you can forgive me. I want to be with you. You’re all I—”

  Jason’s mouth descended on hers before she could say another word. She sank into his kiss, and barely heard the whistles and cheers around them.

  “We need privacy,” Jason said urgently against her lips.

  “There is a great little cupboard where we were storing some of the auction gifts.”

  “Take me,” he whispered.

  She did—more than once.

  * * *

  THE END OF the party neared. It had been an amazing night. Jason had the woman of his dreams, and he was not going to let her go.

  “How soon can we leave?” he asked.

  “I need to make sure the cleaning crew and volunteers are ready, and we should be good to go.”

  She left his side to make the arrangements. She had wanted to stay and help out, but he’d convinced the volunteers to force her to leave. She had already done so much for the town and for him. He knew she hadn’t slept for days. He wanted her home in bed with his arms wrapped around her. She was the best Christmas present ever. He felt like the Grinch at the end of the cartoon where his heart swells and swells. He had no idea he was capable of caring so much for another person.

  He went in search of her coat and purse and had them waiting by the door when she arrived.

  “Okay. I’ll come by in the morning to make sure everything is back as it should be.”

  He helped her into her coat. “Let’s not worry about that now.”

  Santa passed them.

  “Thank you,” she called out to the old man. “You did a wonderful job. I heard nothing but compliments about how miraculous you are.”

  He turned and smiled at them. “My work here is done. Now I have to get on to my real job.”

  He took off fast on his chubby little legs.

  “He is in a hurry,” said Eric, one of the EMTs from the fire the other day. Jason had known him for years, and was glad to see him cozying up to Chloe, who gazed lovingly up at him. Jason had pulled her from the fire, but Eric had saved her life. From the looks of things, she was doing the same for him. It was good. The guy deserved true happiness.

  “In an odd way, we credit him with getting us together,” said attorney Alana O’Hara, who was next to Police Sergeant Noah Briscoe.

  “So do we,” said Eric and Chloe.

  Jason and Kristen stared at one another and broke out in a laugh.

  They watched as the old man climbed into his beat-up pickup truck. He held out a beefy hand to wave at them.

  “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night,” he yelled.

  For Jason and Kristen it was definitely a merry night. And for the rest of Pine Crest, it promised more holiday magic and tremendous joy.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of Just One Night by Nancy Warren.

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  1

  “SICK LEAVE?” Rob Klassen yelled, unable to believe what he was hearing from the editor of World Week, the international current affairs magazine he’d worked for as a photojournalist for twelve years. “I’m not sick!”

  Gary Wallanger pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto his desktop cluttered with Rob’s proof sheets documenting a skirmish in a small town near the Ras Ajdir border between Tunisia and Libya. “What do you suggest I call it? Shot-in-the-ass leave? You damned near got yourself killed. Again.”

  Gary didn’t like his people getting too close to the action they were reporting on and his glare was fierce.

  Rob put all his weight on his good leg, but even so, the throbbing in his left thigh was hard to ignore. “I was running away as fast as I could.”

  “I saw the hospital report. You were running toward the shooter. Bad luck for you. They can tell those things from the entry and exit wounds.” In the uncomfortable silence that followed Rob heard the roar of traffic, honking cabs and sirens on the Manhattan streets far below. He hadn’t counted on Gary finding out the details he’d have rather kept to himself.

  “You want to be a war hero,” his editor snapped, “join the forces. We report news. We don’t make it.”

  Another beat ticked by.

  “There were bullets flying everywhere. I got disoriented.”

  “Bull. You were playing hero again, weren’t you?”

  Rob could still picture the toddler cowering behind an oil drum. Yeah, his boss would have been happier if he’d left her scared and crying in the line of gunfire. But he was the one who had to wake up every morning and look himself in the mirror. Truth was he hadn’t thought at all. He’d merely dashed over to the girl and hauled her to safety. Getting shot hadn’t been in his plan.

  Would he have acted any differently if he’d known what the outcome would be? He sure as hell hoped not.

  He knew better than to tell Gary any of that. “You don’t win Pulitzers with a telephoto lens. I needed to get close enough to capture the real story.”

  “Close enough to take a bullet in the leg.”

  “That was unfortunate,” Rob admitted. “I can still handle a camera though. I can still walk.” He made a big show of stalking across the carpeted office, scooting around the obstacle course of stacked back issues, piled newspapers and a leaning tower of reference books. If he concentrated he could manage to stride without a limp or a wince though he could feel sweat begin to break out from the effort.

  “No.” The single word stopped him in his tracks.

  He turned. “I’m the best you’ve got. You have to send me back out on assignment.”

  “I will. As soon as you can run a mile in six.”

  “A mile in six minutes? Why so fast?”

  Gary’s voice was as dry as the North African desert. “So the next time you have to run for your life you can make it.”

  Rob paused for breath and grabbed a chair back for support. He and Gary had been friends for a long time and he knew the guy was making the right decision even if it did piss him off. “It was pure bad luck. If I’d dodged right instead of left...”

  “You know most people would be pretty happy to be alive if they were you. And they’d be thrilled to get a paid vacation.” Gary picked up his glasses and settled himself behind his desk.

  “They patched me up at the closest military hospital. It was nothing but a flesh wound.”

  “The bullet nicked your femur. I do know how to read a hospital report.”

  Damn.

  “Go home. Rest up. The world will continue to be full of trouble when you get back.” Rob knew Gary was still aggravated by the fact that he didn’t compliment him on his photos, which they both knew to be superb. Instead of getting the praise he deserved, he was being sent home like a kid who’d screwed up.

  He scowled.

  Home.

  He’d been on the road so much in the past few years that home was usually wherever he stashed his backpack.

  If he’d ever had a home, it was in Fremont, Washington, a suburb of Seattle that prided itself on celebrating counterculture, considering itself the center of the universe and officially endorsing the right to be peculiar. Fremont seemed a fitting destination for him right now that he was feeling both self-centered and peculiar. Besides, it was the only place he could think of to go even though everything that had made the place home was now gone.

  “All right. But I heal fast. I’ll be running six-minute miles in a couple weeks. Tops.”

  “You’ll be under a doctor’s care and I’ll be needing the physician’s report before I can reinstate you for any assignments in the field.”

  “Oh, come on, Gary. Give me a freakin’ break.”

  Once more the glasses came off and he was regarded by tired hazel eyes. “I am giving you a break. I could assign you to a desk right here in New York. That’s your other option.”

  He shook his head. No way he was being trapped in a small space. He didn’t like feeling trapped. Not ever. “See you in a couple of weeks.”

  Once he was out of Gary’s office and in the hallway Rob gave up the manly act and tried to put as little weight on his injured leg as possible.

  “Rob, you should be on crutches,” a female voice called out.

  He turned, recognizing the voice and mustering a happy-to-see-you smile. “Romona, hi.”

  A print business reporter making the transition to television, Romona had the looks of a South American runway model and the brains of Hillary Clinton. They got together whenever they were both in New York. Neither had any interest in commitment but enjoyed each other’s company and bodies. “I heard you were hurt. How are you doing?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  Even though they’d never do anything as obvious as hug in public, the glance she sent him from tilted green eyes steamed around the edges. She dropped her voice. “Why don’t you come over later and I’ll kiss you all better?”

  “I’m filthy. Haven’t shaved in days, had a haircut in weeks, my—”

  “I like you scruffy. You look like a sunburned pirate.”

  He knew he’d hit rock bottom when he realized he had no desire to spend the night with a passionate woman. His leg was burning, he had a vicious case of jet lag and he’d been pulled out of the field. He felt too worn-out tired even to get laid. All he wanted to do was hide out for a while and heal.

  He shook his head attempting to appear more disappointed than he was. “Sorry. I have a plane to catch.”

  She knew as well as he did that plane tickets could be changed and it was a measure of his exhaustion that this was the best excuse he could come up with.

  She didn’t call him on it though, merely patted his arm and said, “Maybe next time.”

  That was the great thing about Romona. She was a lot like him. He’d enjoyed any number of women over the years, loved sex, but had no interest in settling down. Career came first. Maybe it was shallow, and maybe there was a part of him that longed for a woman to comfort him, to listen to his stories, share his pain. The only woman who’d ever been like that, though, had been his grandmother. Ruefully, he suspected she’d been the love of his life.

  And now she was gone.

  He had so many frequent flyer miles that upgrading was no problem when he got to LaGuardia. He even scored an aisle seat so he could stretch his bad leg out a little.

  Once airborne, he recalled that the family attorney had tried to talk to him about the Fremont house. What with getting shot and all, he hadn’t got around to calling back. He’d call him as soon as he got into Seattle.

  It was something to do with Bellamy House, the old family place where he’d spent so much time with his grandmother.

  He couldn’t imagine the place without her. As a stab of pain hit, he took out the paperback he’d brought and forced himself to read.

 
; * * *

  HAILEY FLEMING WAS a woman with an agenda. Two in fact. The electronic one that she relied on so heavily that she’d recently started keeping a backup paper day planner because the thought of somehow losing her electronic schedule made her feel too close to losing her mind for comfort.

  She was nothing if not organized.

  And both agendas told her that she was exactly on time for the best appointment of the day. An after-work glass of wine with a colleague who’d become a close friend, Julia Atkinson.

  As she made her way into the bistro off North Phinney Avenue, a former record store turned trendy bar, she scanned the tables and was not surprised to find she was the first to arrive. She was always early.

  And Julia was always late.

  She settled at a table and ordered a glass of white wine then spent ten minutes going through tomorrow’s appointments and writing some notes on improvements she wanted to make on her website.

  “Am I late?” a breezy, breathless voice said as Julia swished into her chair, a loose black garment that resembled a combination sweater, poncho and cloak settling in around her.

  “Of course you are. You’re always late.”

  Julia’s red hair was newly cut into a curly bob and her full lips curved in a smile. “I was at the opening of a new furniture gallery which has brought in several fantastic new lines from Milan. I got chatting, and there were these delicious cookies. I left after three. It was the only way I could stop myself. I don’t feel guilty. I bet you did a day’s work while you waited.”

  “Half a day’s anyway.”

  A waiter arrived and Julia ordered a vodka tonic. Which meant she was on another of her diets. Which meant...

  “I think I’ve met someone.” She sounded so excited that Hailey leaned forward.

  “Tell me everything.”

  Julia unbuttoned the cloak thing and draped it over the back of her chair, revealing a black-and-red dress enlivened by one of the hundreds of chunky, glitzy vintage necklaces she owned.

  “He’s an engineer who lives downtown. He was married, but his wife left him and broke his heart.”

  “Wow. That was fast. I just saw you last week. Where did you meet him?”