The Bookworm and the Beast
Page 10
“What do you think?” he asked in a low voice against her hair. It was still dark out, and thousands of lights glimmered on every shrub and tree that flanked the house. She tensed under his hands and drew in a sharp breath.
“It looks like a fairy tale.” Her voice sounded slightly stunned, and Izzy leaned back against him. Suddenly, every penny he’d spent on the last-minute installation seemed completely worth it. They stood for a few moments just taking in the lights that made the stone facade glow with grandeur. He rested his chin on the top of her head. She might have been fascinated by the lights, but he was more interested in drawing in the honeyed scent of her hair and the way her body fit neatly against his.
“You were right. The house did need some extra attention for the holidays. I’ve let it go, like a lot of other things, because the memories can be too hard.” Derek moved his hands from her shoulders to wrap around her. “That’s going to change.” He wasn’t ready for the moment to end, despite the biting cold.
“Would finding her give you closure?” Izzy asked.
“I’ve thought about it. But then again, maybe it’s better to enjoy the nice memories we had instead. She might’ve had a reason for leaving—maybe she met someone and started a new family. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, I guess.” Derek found comfort in the warmth of her body, and Izzy shivered in his embrace.
“I should’ve given you time to get your coat,” he said. “Let’s go in before we both get hypothermia.”
They walked back in hand in hand. The foyer was like a furnace compared to the outside. “I’m going to grab a shower. Then I’m at your service in the kitchen.”
“I’ve been up for a while, so there’s not much left to do besides some sugar cookies,” Izzy said, rubbing her hands together to warm them.
For the first time, he noticed the dark circles brushed underneath her eyes. She’d been working hard to pull this all together.
“Why don’t you go up and rest. I can handle the cookies,” Derek offered. He wasn’t sure if he could, but it didn’t seem fair to let her do it all—even though she pretty much already had.
“No. I’m all right. I’ll get Atticus something to eat while you’re in the shower. Then we can meet down here for Baking 101.” Izzy smiled at him. For some reason, the notion thrilled him.
“As long as you’re sure.” He paused for a moment and then kissed her forehead. What the heck, in a few hours, they’d be officially in a long-term relationship anyway.
He showered in record time and pulled on clean jeans and a long-sleeved Henley before going back down to find Izzy.
She was in the kitchen, laying out baking supplies on the island, with Atticus at her feet. What would it be like to find her here year after year? Would she grow tired of him, of the isolation of the house, or could they continue this easy rhythm? It shook him to the core that he could no longer picture the house without her in it. His father had fallen recklessly for his mother. Was he on the same path to destruction? Did he secretly hope Izzy would stay and lighten his otherwise dreary world? It was a lot to expect. She’d been here less than two weeks, and other then the stolen kisses that had snowballed into an all-consuming need inside him, she hadn’t expressed any feelings of emotional attachment toward him.
“That was lightning fast,” Izzy said as she measured out two level cups of sugar and poured them into a large silver mixing bowl.
“Well, I didn’t want to miss anything.” He smiled at her, and she laughed. It was a beautiful sound, one the walls of the home had rarely heard until her arrival.
“You can soften this butter in the microwave.” She handed him a ceramic bowl, and he popped it in for thirty seconds, checked it, and put it in for another ten. When he handed it back to her, she dumped it into the bowl with the sugar. While she measured out other ingredients, he followed her instructions and cracked eggs into a separate bowl. It would’ve been much quicker to buy the premade tube kind, but he liked watching her concentration as she put the recipe together. Once all the ingredients were blended, she covered the mixing bowl.
“What now?” he asked, leaning against the island.
“Now we wait. The dough needs to chill for an hour before we can cut it into shapes.” She started cleaning up the bags and jars of baking supplies she’d pulled out.
“I can think of a few things we can do while we’re waiting.” He flashed her a grin, and she blushed deeply. He wasn’t expecting the puff of flour that followed.
“I’m sure you could.” She laughed and held the bag of flour in front of her like a shield.
“Did you just start a food fight with me?” He shook his head but couldn’t stop his lips from curving into a wide smile.
“I was keeping your mind out of the gutter.” She shrieked and tried to run from him as he snatched the bag of sugar, pitched it forward, and watched white granules sprinkle down on her. She spun around and chucked the contents of the flour bag in his direction before dropping it and bolting. He swiped flour off his face and shirt, chased after her, and caught her around the waist. They both were laughing and breathless. Had he ever had more fun than when he was with her? In an instant, they both leaned in, crushing together in an urgent kiss. She pressed her hips into his, and he groaned and clutched her tighter. This was madness, and it was driving him insane. Her tongue met his in a desperate dance.
“Tell me what you want, because in a second I’m not going to be able to stop.” The words came out as a low growl as her hands dipped under his shirt.
“You. This,” she said through quick breaths and nipped the tip of his chin. He yanked her against him and backed her toward the foyer stairs. Derek cupped her face in his hands. She was so unknowingly beautiful it made his pulse pound beneath his skin. He plunged his mouth back against hers before she could protest, and pushed her up against the rail when her fingers lifted his shirt and trailed along his bare hips. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a car door slam. Derek pushed it away, unable to think of anything but Izzy.
A moment later, the front door whipped open. “Surprise! We’re early.” Janet’s high-pitched voice barely resonated in his brain, but Izzy shoved him back. Shit. They couldn’t have had worse timing if they tried. Derek wanted to slam the door and tell them to come back in an hour, but the mood was apparently dashed for Izzy. She looked like someone had pitched a snowball right at her face.
“Well, I guess there’s no doubt she’s real.” Janet gave Derek’s father a sidelong glance and Mary, Janet’s adopted daughter, covered her mouth to suppress a laugh. They stood there expectantly, hands overflowing with bags and boxes tied up with ribbon.
Derek gripped Izzy’s hand, squeezed gently, and led her down the stairs. “Everyone, this is Izzy.” He could tell she wanted to curl into a ball and disappear, but she took a breath, stepped forward, and smiled.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’d hug you, but there was an incident in the kitchen.” She lifted her arms and glanced down to where flour from his body had stuck to hers and sugar clung to the material of her sweater. It earned a hearty chuckle from his father.
“It’s great to meet you,” he said. “We’ll just go into the parlor while you two clean up.”
When they disappeared down the hall, Izzy blew out a breath.
“Talk about first impressions.” She grimaced.
“Another thirty seconds, and they would’ve gotten an eyeful.” Why did his family, who was perpetually late for everything, choose today of all days to be early?
“Janet’s daughter would’ve needed a counseling session in her stocking,” Izzy said.
They both chuckled as they walked up the stairs. Derek stopped in front of Izzy’s room.
“You’re not going to invite me in for a second attempt, are you?” He raised one arm to lean against the doorframe. Had he missed the opportunity for good?
“I think everyone’s had enough excitement for one day.” Izzy swept her fingers over her hair, and a trickle of sugar sprinkled
down on her shoulders.
“I should’ve told them to leave the gifts at the door and scram.” His body ached from wanting her. It was a type of need a cold shower or a brisk walk outside would never fix.
“Shhh.” She shushed. “Not so loud. What if they overheard you?”
“Then maybe they’d take the hint and hit the road.” He gave her a crooked grin. What was happening to him? Teasing, smiling—where had this version of himself been hiding?
She swatted at him playfully and stepped closer. “That’s not very nice.”
Derek cupped her backside with both hands and pulled her in for a deep kiss. A week ago, he would’ve told himself it was completely wrong to get involved with a woman he’d just met, and his employee at that. Now, it was the first thing in years that had felt right.
“Stay in my room tonight.” He remembered the immediate reaction she had when he nibbled her ear, and he found the same spot again with his teeth. “Don’t make me beg.” Her sharp inhale tickled his ear.
“Maybe…” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and wiggled out of his hands. She turned and twisted the knob to her door, then glanced back at him.
“I’m not playing games or hard to get. You know that, right? It’s just something I don’t take lightly. I can’t,” she whispered.
His heart rate kicked up a notch. “Izzy, have you ever?”
She shook her head, and a flush crept up her neck and cheeks. A thrill coursed through him. He’d almost been her first. God, she was innocent, vulnerable, and he’d almost taken her against the stairs like a savage. No wonder she’d put the brakes on so many times. She must have been frightened to death in the hotel room when his hands were wandering all over her skin.
“Come here,” he murmured and wrapped his arms around her. He took a moment to breathe in her hair and enjoy having her close.
She tipped her chin up and looked him in the eyes. “It’s not a… I mean, would you still want to?”
“Yes.” He didn’t tell her that now he was scared, too. Afraid of hurting her or being hurt. He could be undone by her. “It doesn’t change how much I want you, but you have to be sure. If you come to bed with me, I want it to be your decision.”
She nodded and stepped back. “We shouldn’t keep your family waiting any longer.”
Derek knew when he was being dismissed. He leaned in, pecked her cheek, and waited for her to slip inside her room before walking to his own. He spent a few extra minutes picking up the clutter and making up the bed just in case. Now it seemed like every little detail mattered. They needed to talk about what would happen after the holiday. He knew what was in his heart, but he’d learned he shouldn’t assume where Izzy was concerned.
Chapter Eleven
Izzy took a deep breath before gripping the banister to head downstairs. The shower and mental pep talk had done little to relieve the twisty feeling in her stomach. She had to put on a show and make Derek’s family believe in their relationship because Silver Acres had called while she was changing into clean clothes. For the first time in her life, she had bounced a check. Izzy was always so meticulous with money, but the extra shopping that day with Derek must have put her over the edge, and now she had to beg them to give her a few more days on Gram’s rent. Money had been tight before, but she’d never been rendered broke.
As it stood, it seemed wrong and a little embarrassing to take Derek’s money now. She’d nearly slept with him, and they’d formed a friendship, maybe even a relationship. How could she let him pay her after all this? And if she told him she was utterly and completely broke, he might think she was just using him for his money.
Full-bodied laughter echoed from the parlor as she placed her foot on the final step. She pulled in a breath and forced her shoulders to relax. Here goes nothing.
The glow from the open parlor door illuminated the dim hallway, and she followed the light.
“There she is.” Derek, who was standing in the middle of the room, turned to smile at her. He walked over, gripped her hand, and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I was just telling them how we visited your grandmother the other day.”
A winter wonderland of guilt rolled over her. She’d gotten Gram mixed up in this lie, too, and it didn’t sit well.
“She’s a very special lady.” Izzy directed the statement at Janet and her husband, who stared at her expectantly. They were both sitting on the couch, and Mary lounged by the fire, fiddling around on her cell phone.
“Sit down.” Janet motioned with her hand to the empty love seat across from the couch. “We want to know all about you.”
Despite Janet’s smile, Izzy’s throat tightened. So, this was what it felt like to be on trial. Derek rubbed her palm with his thumb, a quick gesture of encouragement no one else could see. It bolstered her confidence slightly, to know they were in this together. She sat on the other couch and sank into the buttery-soft leather. Atticus got up from his spot in the corner of the room to flop down at her feet. The weight of his body on her toes did more to comfort.
“Do your parents live close by, Izzy?” Janet said over the Bloody Mary she was sipping. It was a bit early for a drink, but to each their own. Maybe the alcohol would make Izzy and Derek’s relationship more believable. Derek’s father, Paul, held a mug of coffee between both hands and crossed his left ankle over his knee.
“My mother lives in Naples, Florida, so it’s just Gram and me up here.” If only her bright tone ended the questions about her family, it would be easier to relax. As soon as she found an opening to deflect questions to Derek, she’d shamelessly take it.
“Oh, Naples is just lovely. It must be so nice for you to visit her and be around all the beaches and boutiques.” A fleck of red tomato juice had clung to Janet’s cheek, and Izzy couldn’t seem to take her eyes off it. Her mother had never invited her to visit, and Izzy hadn’t thought of why until now. She twisted the simple silver necklace she wore between her fingers. She had never even stepped foot in Naples.
“And what about your father?” Janet pressed.
Izzy rubbed the dog’s back with her foot, more for her comfort than his. “He’s not in the picture,” she said quickly.
Paul leaned forward and smiled at Izzy. “Janet’s training to be a clinical investigator.” Everyone laughed except Janet.
“I’m just trying to get to know her. That’s all.” Janet jabbed Paul with a light elbow to the ribs. Did she see through the act already, or was she just naturally nosey? The tension in the room was suddenly as thick as an unwanted holiday fruitcake.
“I think those cookies are ready to pop in the oven. Excuse me.” Every eye was on her as she got up from the couch and exited the room. She released the pent-up breath she’d been holding the second she reached the safety of the quiet foyer. If Janet was so insistent on Derek settling down, why was she drilling her? Insecurities swirled around her. Because you’re not good enough. Maybe Derek’s stepmom had expected more, and she didn’t live up to the standard. Or was it Izzy’s lack of confidence that made her an easy target? It was going to be a long two days if she didn’t toughen up and show some backbone. If only she could act as easily as her gram, she’d breeze through Janet’s questions with confidence and sass.
In the kitchen, she took the dough out of the fridge and rolled it out on the island. It was good to do something with her hands to lessen the nerves flip-flopping in her belly. She flattened the dough in quick jerks and gritted her teeth. Tonight, before Christmas Eve dinner, she’d put on the lovely lace dress Derek bought, put on some makeup, and pull out all the stops. She’d worked way too hard the past two weeks to see it go up in flames. She’d never see these people again after tomorrow. It was time to put on a show. A flicker in the doorway caught her eye, and she glanced up. Mary stood there. Her dark glossy hair hung to her shoulders and covered some of her face. Izzy’s hands were red from pressing down on the rolling pin so hard. She must look like a certified lunatic, pounding the dough with a vengeance on the table.
“Can I help cut shapes?” Mary asked softly and shuffled forward in her socked feet.
“I’d love the help. I didn’t think to cut down the recipe, and there’s a lot of dough here,” Izzy said and pulled out cookie cutters she’d found while searching the kitchen. “Looks like we have stars, snowmen, and reindeer.” She laid the shapes on the table for Mary to choose. She was a cute girl with almond-shaped eyes and golden skin. Mary stood side by side with Izzy, chose the reindeer, and started pressing it through the dough.
“I hid in my room for, like, days after Janet adopted me. She can be pretty, um, intense,” Mary whispered. “She’s not bad, though. Besides, she’s been talking about meeting you nonstop.”
“Maybe I’m not what she was expecting.” Jeez, Izzy. This isn’t Dr. Phil. It’s a little girl who’s way too well-spoken and adult for her age.
“It’s just, you know. You’re the first woman Derek’s liked. Ever. Janet wants everyone to be happy so bad, she gets a little wacky.”
Izzy chuckled. Maybe she should give Janet a little slack. People showed their insecurities in different ways. Izzy had done some serious online sleuthing when Mr. Johnson had started dating Gram. She could be open and honest about herself to Derek’s family. She had nothing to hide or be embarrassed by—except lying about her relationship with Derek, of course. She’d never done something quite so deceitful in her entire life. The last time she’d told a lie had been to Gram when she’d come home from college the weekend after her breakup. It had been way too humiliating to tell her what had happened with Bret. Instead, she’d told her she’d broken it off to focus on her studies.
Mary’s giggle broke Izzy out of her thoughts. “What did the dough do to you?” Mary pushed a snowman into the mixture and peeled off the perfect shape.