Mistletoe and Mr. Right

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  “Is this your version of a thank-you?” Lana bit her lip as he nipped at the sensitive skin behind her earlobe.

  “I could write you a letter instead, but I’m not too good with words.”

  Maybe, but he was absolutely amazing at what he was doing. Closing her eyes, Lana relaxed into his hold, running her fingers through his hair.

  “How far do you want this to go?” he asked her in a low, hungry voice.

  “Hmm. The couch seems like a good distance.”

  Rick chuckled. “That’s not exactly an answer.”

  They ended up on the couch in a mess of limbs, with Lana pulling his face to hers. Lana wasn’t sure how far she wanted things to go, but his arms felt wonderful wrapped around her, the solid weight of his form leaning against her.

  After a night spent so comfortably sleeping against his side, Lana expected that same comfort in this second kiss. Except…well…it wasn’t. The soft, peaceful glow of the twinkling holiday lights didn’t match the heat between them.

  Damn, this man could kiss. He could hold her just right, anchoring her to his muscled form as he deepened the kiss. Like a shiver going over her skin, a pressure that could only be assuaged by gripping his forearms and pulling him in tighter.

  Lana hadn’t been ready for this. Kissing him, yes. But coming up for air, plastered all over him? Either she had climbed on his lap or Rick had pulled her there, Lana honestly couldn’t remember which. Panting to catch her breath, she hoped her nails hadn’t cut the skin of his shoulders where they had dug in for purchase.

  His hands wrapped around her waist, sliding up and down her sides in a way that made her melt like chocolate beneath his touch.

  “Maybe we should slow this down.” Rick inhaled deep to regain his own wind.

  “I’m perfectly happy with the opposite.”

  She’d been teasing him, but the way he looked down at her said he took this seriously. “I like you, Lana.”

  The admittance must have cost him, because he wasn’t meeting her eyes now. Voice rougher and quiet, Rick added, “You’re worth slowing down for. Doing this right.”

  “Even on a short-term basis?”

  She tilted her head to catch his attention, drawing his gaze back up to her. What she saw there made her nervous, made her lick her lips and almost drop her own gaze, because it was hard looking into a mirror.

  “Lately, I’ve been thinking it’s better to risk the heartache than to be lonely all the time,” Rick said gruffly.

  Loneliness had become Lana’s way of life. Whatever this was, it was going to mess up her status quo. Honestly, there was a really small, really lonely part of Lana that was ready to have her status quo ripped to shreds already.

  “Then you’re right. I think we should definitely slow down.” Lana pressed her mouth to his. Rick’s hand slid up her back, palm cupping the back of her head and fingers in her hair. He had always said a lot without saying much.

  “This isn’t slowing down,” he said. A sweet smile curved his lips, eyes brightening with humor.

  “I’m getting there,” Lana promised as she reached for him all over again.

  * * *

  He should feel guilty for enjoying this so much. Heck, he did feel guilty. Rick wasn’t even sure why he felt that way when there was no one who cared what he did…and didn’t…allow himself anymore.

  She was napalm, setting him on fire every place she touched. The kind of burning that turned reasonable men completely idiotic and left them with broken hearts. The last thing in the world he should be doing was entertaining the idea that this could ever be anything more than two lonely people trying to get through the holidays.

  Except…well…lonely wasn’t so lonely with her hands pulling his face back down to hers again.

  She was all soft curves and silky hair, warm breath and cool fingertips. Manicured fingernails dug into his skin, those soft curves crushed to his chest. He knew he should pull away, give them both a chance to think…or rethink…what they were doing here. Then a small noise of breathy pleasure escaped her lips, and he was done. Done thinking, done waiting. Done wanting.

  He wanted her, and by the way she was pulling him closer, he could tell she felt the same. So of course, his phone had to ring with the only name he’d pick up for right now.

  “Sorry, it’s Diego. I have to take this.”

  Lana nodded, scooting back to give him room. Rick waited until she rose to her feet before wrapping his arm around her hips, squeezing her in a brief hug.

  “Hey, I’m kind of busy with Lana right now.”

  “The barn was on fire,” Diego said so tonelessly, he might as well have told Rick that he was eating Cheerios.

  “What?”

  “It’s not on fire now.”

  “What do you mean it’s not now?”

  Diego snorted. “Exactly what I said. It’s. Not. Now. Have you been drinking?”

  “No, kid, but I’m seriously considering starting. Did you call the fire department?”

  “Nope. I used a hose.”

  “How big was this fire?”

  “About hose-sized.”

  Setting the phone down on his leg, Rick pressed his forehead to Lana’s stomach, inhaling the scent of her and allowing himself to enjoy the way the silk slid over their skin.

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  “Maybe it’s a good time for a scotch.” She ran her fingernails through his hair in a soothing action that seemed utterly in character for her. Then the woman of his dreams sashayed her way across the hotel room. He didn’t need scotch. He just needed to watch her walk back across the room again. Maybe in slow motion for the part of his brain still trying to keep up. She was gorgeous. He was a lucky bastard. His barn was on fire.

  “Do you know what started the fire?” Rick finally said into the phone.

  “It probably has to do with the Christmas lights that were trampled into the snow. You should probably come home before Jonah gets here to take his report. I’m not sticking around to do it.”

  “You mean…?”

  Diego took a long, serious breath. “The Santa Moose just cockblocked you.” Then Diego hung up on him.

  Chapter 10

  Lana had gotten out of bed when a light knock came to her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and honestly, those who would have come to see her would have texted or called first.

  Except maybe Zoey. Zoey had free rein on intruding unexpectedly anytime she wanted. As Lana’s best friend, she’d earned that right.

  But it wasn’t Zoey—it was Rick. And she was not anywhere close to her normal state of affairs for him to be seeing her.

  “Rick?” Lana called through the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “I brought you a surprise. I know it’s early, but I wanted to catch you before you got tied up working today.”

  She peered through the eye hole but could only see Rick standing there, not whatever he had in his arms. That was squashed to the side, deliberately held out of sight. “No peeking, gorgeous,” he added.

  Glancing at her reflection in the entry mirror, Lana cringed. Why hadn’t he shown up thirty minutes later, when she’d at least put herself into some semblance of respectability? Her hesitation must have given him the wrong impression of his welcome, because he coughed, sounding uncomfortable.

  “I can leave this outside the door if you’re busy. Sorry, I didn’t think.”

  Pulling open the door, Lana decided it was better for him to see her at less than her best than to think she was doing the kind of entertaining he wouldn’t be invited for.

  “It sounds like you’re insinuating that I’m hosting another date the morning after spending an evening with you. I’m tempted to take offense.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Opening the door all the way, Lana stepped asi
de, allowing him to carry his offering inside. And what an offering it was. Rick was carrying a fake tree so real she could almost smell the pine needles. A beautiful blue spruce with the limbs lightly touched with the most realistic snow she’d ever seen.

  “Rick, it’s perfect.”

  “I checked, and it’s recyclable. Nothing died in the preparation of this holiday celebration.”

  “I’m a mess.” Lana touched a hand to her headscarf self-consciously. “You’re welcome to wait while I tidy up. I could call down for some breakfast.”

  She started to turn, but Rick caught her hand, not an easy task when his arm was still full of counterfeit Christmas tree.

  “You’re perfect.” This time when he cleared his throat, his eyes dropped to their entwined fingers. “Don’t change. I can leave. I just wanted you to have this.”

  He set it down, then helped her set it up in the corner near the window and her thinking chair. Then he left to get something out of his car. Rick returned with two large shopping bags in his arms.

  “Ornaments are kind of a personal thing.” He handed her one of the bags. “But it seemed wrong to give you a tree with nothing to put on it. If you don’t like these, the resort probably has more. I can get Quinn’s number from Diego. She probably knows.”

  “These are lovely.” When Rick started for the door, she added impulsively, “Rick? Would you like to decorate this with me?”

  Which was how Lana ended up in her nightgown on the couch, stringing popcorn on a piece of thread from one end while he worked on the other.

  “Did you expect to spend your morning poking a needle through popcorn?” she asked him, bumping Rick’s shoulder companionably.

  “I like popcorn.” He scooped up a handful and dropped it in his mouth, somehow managing not to choke to death. “It’s my go-to when I’m sick of cereal.”

  It was hard not to like popcorn when she was sharing it with him, even if she had stuck her thumb so many times, she’d been forced to put a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid on.

  “I like your Scooby.”

  “Healing is always faster with crime fighters and mystery solvers.” Lana added another piece of popcorn to her side of the string. “Thank you for this. It was very sweet.”

  “Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. I close the pool hall early on Sundays.” He glanced down at his hands, then looked back up earnestly. “I’m not the best cook, but I’d like to try for you. I’d like to treat you to a real date.”

  Rick was killing her in the slowest, sweetest, best way.

  “No taxidermy?” she asked, having a hard time keeping her hands off of him.

  “Minimal taxidermy.” Rick’s voice lowered sexily. “Probably only moderate taxidermy.”

  Right then and there, Lana decided she might have met the most perfect man she’d never get to keep forever. “I’d love to.”

  * * *

  When Lana pulled into his drive for their date night, Rick was waiting for her on the front steps. He’d prepped the sauce he was making that morning, and Diego had pitched in on cleaning the place. It was possible he’d overprepared a smidge, but Rick would rather that than get caught unawares again. Of course, in all his planning, he hadn’t expected her to hop out of her vehicle with a small plastic animal carrier in her hands.

  “Okay, before you say anything, this is not what it looks like.”

  Rick met her in front of her vehicle, peering inside the carrier. Two bright eyes blinked back, followed by the tiniest little mew he’d ever heard.

  “You didn’t bring me a cat?” Rick raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course not. I merely invited my newest feline companion to join us for dinner.” Lana hugged the plastic carrier as if the action could impress upon the kitten inside how much she loved it already. “The poor thing started crying when I went to leave the room.”

  “You didn’t have a kitten this morning.” At least not that he’d noticed.

  Lana gave him a hug too, not unlike the hug she’d given the cat carrier. Rick didn’t know why his brain made the comparison, but he knew he’d never in a million years own up to wondering if a kitten was his competition.

  “One of the cats at the hotel had kittens,” Lana explained as they walked to the porch. “Hannah was giving them away, and she was down to the last one. It seemed awful to be the only kitten without a home, so I decided to increase the search radius.”

  “Does that include me?” he asked, opening the front door for her. “Come on in.”

  “Not unless you’re in the market for a kitten. I know you have your hands full already.” Her smile warmed him, and Rick found himself following her through his house to the dining room table.

  “Now, we’ll have to ask Roger if he minds that the kitten is here,” Lana said. “It’s very important for him to have a say in the matter. No cat wants an unwelcome dinner guest.”

  For the record, Rick always listened when Lana talked. Always. But the woman was so damn pretty, he sometimes had a hard time focusing one hundred percent on what she was saying. When she was around, it was like his senses were on overload. The sound of her voice, the playful crinkle in her eyes, the curve of her hips, or the way she nibbled her lip. He only managed to refocus when he heard another plaintive mew from the carrier in her arms.

  “Okay, let’s look at this kitten.”

  Lana set down the carrier, taking out a tiny black-and-white furball. “Isn’t he precious? They had names already. This is Peyton.”

  Rick dropped into a chair. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close. To his immense pleasure, Lana sat on his leg, leaning into his shoulder as she cradled the kitten. The part of Rick he tried to keep hidden deep down had shied away from the animal the instant he’d laid eyes on it. This was what Jen had done. She’d find something to take care of, and he’d be the sucker that ended up taking care of it.

  How many fights had they had over “one more kitten” or “it’s just a fainting goat”? And here Rick was again, caught between wanting to make the woman in his life happy and not wanting to be a schmuck.

  Maybe the expression on his face gave him away, because Lana touched his stubbly cheek with slender fingertips.

  “You don’t have to look so worried, Rick. I promise this isn’t me pushing him on you. I’m planning on taking him to the Lockett place tomorrow. Or Graham might want a friend for Jake.” Lana adjusted the kitten in her arms. “I wish I could keep him with me, but traveling all over the place is no life for a kitten. What if it’s too cold or too hot, or there’s some sort of kitty disease that no one had discovered?”

  “You love animals.” Rick deeply enjoyed how happy holding Peyton seemed to make her. Even if he really didn’t want the kitten himself.

  “I do. I never had a pet growing up. We were encouraged to think of the horses as working partners instead of pets. Everyone had their jobs to do, even if that was to jump an oxer. You wouldn’t believe how many deals Killian has brokered covered in horse sweat and bits of mud.”

  “Polo Killian?”

  “Yes, race car Killian is half-useless on anything with four legs,” she joked. “Do try to keep up.”

  Keeping up with her was almost impossible, but damn if he didn’t love trying. Careful not to squish the kitten, Rick threaded a hand through her hair.

  “It feels different.” His fingers slid through the dark strands, softer and slicker than the last time they had been together.

  “I got a Brazilian blowout.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  Lana had Peyton in her arms, so she was unable to touch her hair self-consciously, but her hand started the motion. “Just a smoothing treatment. No ponytails for the next few days.”

  “You wouldn’t be caught dead in a ponytail,” Rick said teasingly. “Not in polite company.”

 
; She laughed. “You are keeping up, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t need to close the distance between them because Lana had already done so. Her lips were soft against his, those silky strands falling over his face.

  “Want to meet the other woman in my life?” he asked, earning himself one sculpted eyebrow lifting. “Be warned. Darla’s the jealous type.”

  “Your hedgehog.” Lana’s eyes brightened in instant pleasure. “Yes, of course. I can’t believe I haven’t said hello yet. My manners are slipping.”

  They tucked Peyton back in his carrier before Rick led her to the study, turning on the lights so Lana could see better. Would she notice the handcrafted hedgehog furniture? Or the tiny Christmas tree? He kind of hoped she’d notice the tree. Rick had spent an embarrassingly long time gluing miniature presents beneath it, arranged just right.

  “Oh, she’s perfect.”

  “This is Darla,” Rick told her, opening the cage and handing Lana the little ball of quills. True to form, Darla wiggled her tiny snout, staring up at her with soulful eyes. “She likes her belly rubbed.”

  “Don’t we all,” Lana cooed. “Hello, Darla. Oh, you are precious, aren’t you?”

  “She’s my ex-wife’s.” Why? Why did he say that? Other than the truth. “She got Darla right before she left. Jen liked animals.”

  “Did that stop?”

  “No, but she couldn’t take them all with her.” Rick winced at his own statement. “We had a dog, Sam. Roger would have done better in a smaller apartment than the dog, but I think she was scared to live alone. Sam made her feel safer.”

  “What makes you feel safe?” There was a softness in her tone that made Rick wonder if maybe she understood him a little better than he realized.

  “A roof over my head,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. Deciding to be honest, Rick added, “A job that pays the bills and having people I care about close to me. I’m a pretty simple guy.”

  “Not simple, Rick. Steady. Strong. Dependable. Those things aren’t simple at all. In fact, they’re complex and absolutely rare in this world.”