by Cathryn Fox
Feeling breathless and unable to form a coherent thought, she stared, fully aware of the saliva pooling in her mouth. His skin was dark, sun kissed from the Miami rays, and there was nothing she could do to stop her flesh from moistening.
Jon cleared his throat and broke the quiet, “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
There was that vulnerable look again, the one that was sweet and sensitive and did the weirdest things to her insides. As her entire body trembled with want, it made it that much more difficult to find her voice.
With her thoughts derailed, she struggled to keep from sounding as shaky as she felt. “Actually, I, uh, I just needed to know if you have any shellfish allergies.”
He dipped his head and his voice came out husky, deeper than before, when he said, “Nope. No allergies at all.”
“Oh, okay,” she mumbled as sparks shot through her body, sizzling all the way to the warm juncture between her legs.
As he leaned against the doorjamb looking like sex incarnate, the heat in his gaze licked over her body. She turned her attention to the water dripping down his well-carved chest, only to get absorbed by the fluffy towel hiding the hard ridge of what looked to be a very well-endowed body part.
Damned if she didn’t want to find out.
“Give me a sec. I’ll just pull on my jeans and come back down with you.”
He turned from her, and when her gaze dropped to his backside, a shiver of anticipation raced across her flesh, because as her glance followed his gorgeous towel-draped ass across the room, Lila instantly decided another snap decision was in order.
Jon Carver might be a fast-food, fast-hands kind of guy, the kind of guy who likely reached out and touched more women than Hallmark, but her body was telling her to go for it with the sexy city boy who was only going to be around until Christmas Eve. After all, like she once told her friends, sometimes even nice girls need a little down and dirty sex too. Since the holidays were all about overindulging, why shouldn’t she indulge a little?
She’d always been told that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Did that old saying also apply to getting him naked?
“Hurry up,” she said. “We don’t want the chowder to get cold.”
Chapter Three
The noises coming from outside his window, combined with the smell of bacon from the kitchen below, pulled Jon from his deep slumber. His joints groaned in protest as he stretched his arms over his head, and when he blinked his eyes open it took a moment to orient himself and figure out where the hell he was. The shrill shriek of laughter cut through the quiet of his room. He pushed off his blankets and quietly padded to his window.
He pulled back the heavy curtains. When he caught the familiar sight of kids sliding down Dresden Bluff at the back of his old homestead, he couldn’t help but smile, remembering all the times he and his friends had raced down the icy slope on the wooden sleds Errol and his pals had handed down to them.
He missed the friends he hadn’t seen in years. Missed them horribly. But he’d distanced himself on purpose, pretty damn sure they wouldn’t want anything more to do with him after the accident.
Burying those painful thoughts, he turned to peruse the room, taking in the soft blue color on the walls, the embers still smoldering in the fireplace and the decorations that made him feel like he was on board a fishing vessel. When Lila had said she was putting him in the Captain’s room, she wasn’t kidding. Everything about the space captured the true essence of Whispering Cove and the industry that had supported the townsfolk for decades.
Jon was impressed with Lila’s creativity, and the touches that made the B&B her own. Errol was right, the place looked completely different from when he was a kid. Then again, he’d never spent much time in this particular room when he was little. Never gave it any thought really. His folks had bought the place when he was ten and since they hadn’t planned to turn it into a B&B until after his father had retired from the sea, most of the rooms had been left empty.
The beeping of his cell phone gained his attention and he was thankful for the distraction. He really didn’t want to think about being back in his childhood home or how it felt both disturbing and consoling at the same time.
He grabbed the phone off his nightstand and was shocked to find the message was from Great-Uncle Errol. Okay, so when had Errol stepped into the twenty-first century and learned to text? Jon gave a slow shake of his head, realizing that a lot of things had changed since he’d been home three years ago. But when the shrieks outside once again filled his room, it gave him a measure of comfort to know that some things hadn’t.
Worried that Errol might need him for medical reasons, Jon opened the message and read it. He frowned, and after reading it a second time, he couldn’t help but feel his uncle was avoiding him. It was just last week that Errol had called and urged him to come home. While Jon had hoped to spend the day with his great-uncle, to find out what was really going on with him, Errol clearly had other plans, ones that didn’t involve him.
Wanting to get to the bottom of matters, Jon grabbed a pair of jeans from his bag and tugged them on. When he opened his door, he was accosted with Christmas music and savory smells. Lila was down there making him breakfast, but she’d fed him so much chowder, rolls and gingerbread cookies last night that his stomach felt like it was swollen to three times its normal size.
It was easy to see that Lila was at home in the kitchen and took pleasure in feeding others. After surviving on take out for the last decade, Jon planned to take advantage of her culinary skills and enjoy everything she had to offer. Although if he continued to gorge on her scrumptious homemade food, he’d be able to fill out Santa’s suit at the Christmas Eve children’s parade without the use of added padding. Not that he planned to go to the parade, or still be in Whispering Cove on the twenty-fourth. He didn’t deserve to celebrate with friends and family on the night he’d lost those closest to him, considering he was the one responsible for their deaths.
Another laugh outside his window prompted him into action, and he stole a quick glance at his bedside clock. Surprised to find that he’d slept in so late, he shoved the phone into his front pocket and tugged on a T-shirt. When he reached the winding staircase, he considered sliding down it for old time’s sake but quickly changed his mind.
The lamps had been dimmed last night, but the morning sunshine streaming in through the big bay window gave sufficient light for him to see that Lila had decorated every square inch of the main living space. There were no stockings hung on the mantle, and he could only assume she was waiting until Christmas Eve when her family came—something he learned while chatting with her over his late-night meal—but no one could ever accuse Lila of lacking in holiday spirit.
The smell of pine from the huge tree filled his nostrils. He pulled it in and turned his attention to the pictures decorating her walls. His heart squeezed as he looked at all her photos. Clearly family was important to her, which made him wonder why Lila had moved so far away from them.
He made his way to the kitchen and opened his mouth to greet her, but when he noticed her singing and swaying that gorgeous body of hers to an upbeat Christmas song, his words died an abrupt death. Okay, so there was no denying that he’d noticed her last night. Noticed how she made yoga pants and a sweatshirt look damn good, how she smelled like sugar and spice and all things nice, and how that pink frosting on her face had made her look so adorable that it was all he could do not to draw her into his arms and lick it off. Talk about the proverbial icing on the cake.
What he noticed this morning, however, was that she looked warm, mussed and so incredibly sexy as she stood over the stove singing off-key, that it had his body reacting in a primal way. He drove his hands into his pockets to adjust his jeans, which suddenly felt too tight around the zipper area.
He leaned against the doorjamb. Even though the holidays brought nothing but bad memories for him, there was little he could do to wipe the stupid grin off his fac
e.
Dark curls fell down her back in a tousled mess as she bobbed her head to the beat, and she didn’t need to look his way for him to know that her honey brown eyes would be filled with life and laughter. This morning she was dressed in a pair of snug jeans that accentuated her perfect heart-shaped ass, and a pink blouse that highlighted her slim waist and looked soft and sensual beneath her curls. It occurred to him that it didn’t matter what she wore. She could make a potato sack look sexy.
Even though he hadn’t spent much time with her, he could tell she was honest and open, completely lacking in artifice, so unlike the women he knew. In fact, the women he knew wouldn’t be caught dead in the kitchen, let alone an apron. He also got the sense that she was completely oblivious to her sensuality and to how she affected him on a primitive level. Not that he was going to show her or act on his impulses. He was here to tend to his great-uncle. That was his one and only priority. Once he was sure the old man was getting the medical attention he needed, he planned to get the hell out of Dodge.
She angled her head and her big brown eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she spotted him, and oddly enough it gave his heart a little jolt. Then she puckered her lips and planted her hands on her slim waist.
“You’re late,” she admonished.
Jon pushed off the doorframe and took a step toward her. “I’m sorry. I never sleep that late.”
Lila crinkled her cute little nose and nodded like she completely understood. “It’s the fresh ocean air here. Knocks you right out. Plus you looked pretty worn out last night.” Balancing a plate full of bacon, eggs, hash browns and toast in her palm, she turned toward him and everything from her easygoing nature to her warm, inviting, laid back look, had his breath catching and a riot of foreign emotions racing through him. “But I’ll forgive you this time.”
Even though he still had no appetite, his stomach took that moment to grumble, although he was beginning to wonder if the hunger prowling through him was for her food or because he wanted to feast on something else entirely.
Christ, hadn’t he just lectured himself on staying away from her?
Jon examined the pots and pans on the stove. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble. Not for me.”
“No trouble at all,” she announced, then turned toward the room just off the kitchen. That’s when he noticed the dining room table—his mother’s old table—beautifully set for one. It touched him that Lila liked the table enough to keep it when she’d redone so much of the place. In fact, as he looked around now, taking in the gingham curtains, the antique pottery in her china cabinet and the rugs covering the hard wood floors, it occurred to him that she’d kept quite a few of his mother’s belongings.
He grabbed one of the two stools tucked under the island and asked, “Is it okay if I just sit here again?”
“Oh, sure.” She pushed his plate toward him, filled his coffee cup and grabbed another set of utensils from the drawer. After she handed them to him, she went back to humming and started packing cookies into a big plastic container.
Jon looked at the plate then back at Lila. Catching him by surprise, a sharp pang of loneliness cut through his heart like a serrated knife. Before he could think better of it, he asked, “Aren’t you going to join me?”
She gave him an odd look. “I already had my breakfast.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, feeling a bit foolish. Cloaking his disappointment, his glance moved over the woman before him. Even though he’d just met her, she had the uncanny ability to make him feel all peculiar inside. Oddly enough, watching her prepare his food had him thinking about all the meals he’d eaten alone over the years. Dining solo had never bothered him before, never made him think about how alone he really felt in Miami, so why then, was he suddenly so aware of it now?
Heck, maybe he was just feeling sentimental because he was back in his childhood hometown, or perhaps the peculiar feeling in his gut was a matter of indigestion from overindulging last evening.
Needing to get his mind on something else, he took a slug from his coffee cup and asked, “What are you doing with all those cookies?”
A smile lit up her pretty face. “It’s the Whispering Wonderland skating party today. Everyone is going to be there. You should come.”
Jon frowned. “I don’t think so.” He actually preferred to keep a low profile when in town. Errol was right, when he came home three years ago, he’d pretty much holed up in Errol’s back bedroom.
“Why not? You have something else to do?”
Jon arched a brow. “Are you always this forward?”
“Yes,” she answered. Refusing to let him off easy she asked again. “So, do you have something else to do?”
“As a matter of fact I do,” he answered, thinking how he’d planned to spend the day with Errol, only to get a text saying he wasn’t going to be around because he’d be too busy helping out at the skating party. But if Errol was occupied, then it would make getting to the clinic to read over his records that much easier.
“Is Danica running the clinic?” he asked before tossing a piece of bacon into his mouth.
Lila gave him a concerned look. She bent forward to put her palm on his forehead, then ran her hands along his cheeks. While the position afforded him a view of her cleavage, he tried not to look, but more importantly, he tried not to choke on his bacon.
“No fever. Are you sick?”
As her silky soft fingers caressed his face, the warmth of her touch went right through him. “No,” he answered, as every muscle in his body tightened. “I was just wondering.”
She pulled her hand away and her face relaxed. “Actually, she’s the only one running the clinic.” She looked at Jon’s plate. “Need more bacon?”
Jon swallowed and shook his head no. “You’re kidding me? She’s the only doctor in town?”
Lila nodded. “Yup, and she’s pretty much run off her feet these days.”
Could that be why Errol had asked him to come home, to help out at the clinic?
“So you know Dani?” she asked.
Jon nodded, his mind going to all the friends he’d grown up with. Most of them were married with kids now. In fact there seemed to be a baby boom going on in Whispering Cove.
Jon swallowed the last of his coffee and stood to get another cup, but Lila took it from him. “I’ll get that for you.”
“You don’t have to wait on me.”
“It’s no trouble. Besides, I need a favor.”
“Ah, so that’s it,” he teased. “Tit for tat.”
The second the words left his mouth, he tried to snatch them back, because as they hovered over them like a loaded weapon he realized just how sexual they sounded. “Wait,” he rushed out. “I mean, you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours.” He groaned inwardly. “No…I mean…” Shit.
Lila grinned at him, a soft, seductive smile that turned him inside out. Her fingers went to the top button on her blouse, and as Jon watched the sexy movement his cock thickened in his unforgiving jeans. As she toyed with the little white button, popping it in and out of the hole in a manner that had his thoughts careening in an erotic direction, her look was warm, playful, drawing him into a place he swore he wasn’t going to go. Lila was a nice girl, and he was the last person she needed to get mixed up with.
But then, in a sensual voice that had him thinking about naked bodies, and hot, uninhibited sex, she asked, “Do you have an itch you need scratched, Jon?”
“I mean…” Less than five minutes ago he’d said he was going to enjoy everything Lila had to offer, but now he was suddenly wondering exactly what it was she was offering. Not that it mattered. He was in town to take care of Errol, not flirt with or take advantage of Lila, no matter how much he’d like to get her naked and have his way with her. Besides, even with the way she gawked at his near nakedness last night—yes, he’d noticed and he’d felt the pull every bit as much as she did—he didn’t take Lila
for the kind of woman who indulged in brief affairs.
The woman was settled down and running her own B&B, which meant she was most likely a forever kind of girl. Right now a brief roll between the sheets was all he could offer. And he wasn’t even sure about that. On some level he knew that a night with a sweet girl like her just might have him wanting things he didn’t deserve.
“I mean,” he tried again, but when she grabbed the carafe and refilled his cup, her sexy body crowding his, he shoved another slice of bacon into his mouth before he said something else he just might regret.
As sexual energy arced between them, Jon scarfed down the rest of his food. Averting his gaze, he finally broke the silence by asking, “What did you need, Lila?”
“Well,” she began, her voice like a rough caress over his flesh. “There is a box full of skates in the shed. They’re up high with lots of other boxes packed around them. I was hoping you could lend me a hand to get them down.”
Jon jumped up, dumped his scraps into the garbage disposal, then put his plate in the dishwasher. “How about I just get them for you?”
“You don’t know where they are.”
“I’ll find them.” Before she could voice an argument, he left the kitchen, needing a moment of reprieve from the sexy woman with a body made for sin. After grabbing his coat and boots, he made his way out to the backyard but not even the brisk winter air could help cool down his overheated body.
He trudged through the deep snow and as soon as he pulled open the double doors to the woodshed, his heart lodged in his throat and a bevy of memories shook him to the core. A cold morning breeze rushed around him and the sound of the kids on the hill in the distance faded to a distant buzz as his glance went to the long abandoned mini bike propped up in the corner, like it was waiting for a new owner, a new kid to play with. He swallowed and looked at all the boxes. Had his parents kept every single toy from his childhood?
