by Mindy Neff
He kissed her, his hands fevered. Pressing her against the ache in his groin, he held her there, rubbed her against him. It wasn’t nearly enough. He unzipped her pants and pulled them off. Good thing she’d already kicked off her boots, or they’d have ended in a heap on the floor.
Cupping her behind, he lifted her. “Put your legs around me.”
The position was even more torturous. She rode the tip of his erection, a thin strip of silk and his denim the only thing separating them from sheer bliss. He didn’t think he was going to make it down the hall.
“How do you feel about the kitchen table?” he asked against her lips.
“Like it’s my new best friend.”
“Thank God.” He set her on the table, laid her back, yanked a condom out of his back pocket and slapped it on the maple wood, then closed his mouth over her nipple. Her back arched, exciting him, setting him on fire.
She fisted her hand in his hair. “Now, Chance.”
“In a minute.”
“No. I mean, I appreciate your consideration here, but can we save it? I’ll let you go slow later.”
Oh, man. He unzipped his pants, tore open the foil packet, rolled on the condom and entered her. He thought the top of his head was going to come off. Pleasure shot through him, his blood pounded in his ears. It was all he could do not to empty himself in her right now. He clawed for control as he pressed higher, harder, holding her hips steady so he could set the pace.
Her back was arched, her eyes closed, her nipples pebble hard. For all her special gifts, this woman hadn’t had many new experiences. And each one of them showed on her face, the delight, the wonder, the passion. It made him want to give her the world on a velvet pillow.
He reached between them, touched her, and as fast as that, she came apart. Her climax was hard and strong. Each pulse of her body squeezed him, again and again. He held still, let her ride it out. It cost him a small part of his sanity, he was sure. But it was worth it.
Her breath heaved. “That was—”
“Only the beginning.” He moved inside her, saw the stunned expression in her eyes, the immediate flash of pleasure.
“I don’t think…”
“Oh, yes.” He lifted her, his body still fused with hers and sat in the chair, feeling her glove-tight feminine muscles begin to pulse around him anew, squeezing, driving him right to the edge.
She grabbed the back of the chair, arched against him as he closed his lips against the side of her neck, inhaled the springtime scent of her perfume. He tried to hold her still, but she took his palms and guided them to her breasts. And with her hands over his, she moved against him, faster, harder. When she shattered around him for the third time, he gave up the erotic battle and let himself go.
Kelly collapsed against him, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. My God, she’d never felt anything like that in her life. She meant to tell him that, but she didn’t think she had enough air to manage words just now.
Was that sex? she wondered. He’d said there was a difference. But it hadn’t felt like just sex. Even amid their frenzy, her insistence that he save the consideration and slow touches for later, it had felt special.
He’d made damned sure of her pleasure before his own.
This man was so wonderful…so perfect.
Kelly didn’t understand the sudden desperation that overcame her, the stinging urge to weep. Wrapping her arms around him, she held onto him with every bit of strength she had left in her body.
Her life was changing, spiraling out of her control. All because of a special doctor—Chance Hammond.
There was no turning back now. Her heart was involved. Deeply. Irrevocably.
She held him tighter, allowing her arms to convey the words she couldn’t speak. And when she felt him grow hard inside her once more, she kissed him. A bittersweet kiss for the way life sometimes threw couples an insurmountable curve; for at last having found true love, but in the wrong place and at the wrong time. It simply wasn’t fair.
“Kelly?” Chance pulled back, searching her gaze.
“Shh. Don’t talk. Just make love with me.”
His expression softened into a tenderness that did bring tears to her eyes.
“Yes,” he whispered against her lips. “We’ll make love.”
Chapter Twelve
As Chance had predicted, all Jessica talked about for the next two days was the puppies at the Malones. Kelly knew Chance was making arrangements for the surprise, and despite herself, she was nearly as excited as she imagined the girls would be.
In the meantime Kelly was in the kitchen baking cookies for the church cookie exchange and social that was supposed to take place later that evening.
She wasn’t a baker, could probably count on the fingers of one hand how many times she’d even attempted it. But she was excellent at following instructions, and Maria kept a slew of cookbooks in the cupboard.
Kelly could have asked the housekeeper to do the baking, but she really wanted to do it herself. It was important, though she wasn’t sure why.
“You girls are going to eat up all the cookies, and we won’t have any left for the exchange.” Kimmy had a ring of chocolate around her mouth—Kelly was majorly impressed with herself over the excellent results of that batch of cookies—and Jessica had sugar all over her from the gingerbread men and traditional Christmas cookies.
The kitchen looked like a flour bomb had exploded in it, but she and the girls had never had so much fun.
She lined up the tins she’d bought in town and using wax paper, layered them with cookies.
“What’s that noise?” Jessica asked.
Kelly looked up, listened. Someone was singing.
Several someones.
“I don’t know. It sounds like a choir.” After wiping her hands on a towel, she took off her apron and lifted Kimmy down from the chair. “Come on, let’s go see.”
Chance, who’d been stealthily wrapping gifts in one of the back bedrooms, met her in the living room, grinned and opened the front door.
Kelly was speechless. It looked as though all their neighbors and their neighbors’ ranch hands, too, were standing at the bottom of the porch steps, singing Christmas carols.
Carolers.
She’d seen people do that on television, but never experienced it in person. She’d thought it was just a nice story people told.
Chance lifted Kimmy in his arms and held out his hand for Jessica. Stepping out onto the porch with them, Kelly noticed that the yard was filled with hay wagons, sleds, horses, a couple of snowmobiles and a few pickups.
“Oh, my gosh.” This was Christmas, she thought. She felt giddy.
Memories of her grandmother taking her to the historic district of Los Angeles to walk the streets and look at the spectacular light displays swam in her mind. Those were rare and special times.
This was…this was so real. So genuine. So perfect.
She folded her hands in front of her mouth, felt emotion clog the back of her throat. Eden Stratton strummed a guitar, the fingertips of her mittens cut away, as Stony stood beside her, singing in harmony and holding their baby daughter. Ethan Callahan’s brother, Clay, played a harmonica.
Hannah and Wyatt Malone stood arm in arm, as did Ethan and Dora Callahan. Cheyenne and Emily Bodine, each holding a twin bundled in heavy blankets, stood beside them. It seemed like everyone had a baby in their arms. Most of the faces in the crowd she recognized, some she didn’t.
“Oh, this is wonderful.”
“We do it every year,” Chance said. “One family starts it. As they’re invited into their neighbors’ homes, they talk each household into joining them, and they go from there, increasing in numbers. By the time they get to my house, it’s practically the whole town.”
Kelly wanted to be part of this. Without hesitation. Without thought. She wanted to join in.
With giddy excitement, she listened as her friends and neighbors sang the last refrain of “Silent Night,” al
l the while her brain planning, organizing. Thank goodness she had extra cookies and a pot of cider simmering on the stove.
She clapped when they finished the carol, and opened the door wider. “Come in and warm up,” she said to the group, laughing for the sheer joy of it.
When she saw the gentle smile on Chance’s face, she suffered a moment of embarrassment because she was acting like this was her home, instead of his. She got over that quickly enough. He’d told her to treat the place as if it was hers. And besides, no one seemed to think a thing about it.
Amid hugs, handshakes and goodwill, the house filled with bodies clad in heavy coats, scarves, wool caps and Stetsons.
Eden strummed a few chords on her guitar, warming up the crowd for more singing. Kelly instantly forgot her hostess duties and sat down at the piano, listening. Finding the key, she began to play and joined in on the chorus of “Jingle Bells.”
Everyone clapped, surprised and delighted with the additional music—and that Kelly was the one providing it.
When the song ended and Clay went right into a lively rendition of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer,” there were plenty of groans, laughter and children’s giggles.
Kelly’s fingers faltered. That piece wasn’t in the Christmas sheet music she’d unearthed from inside the piano bench.
Concentrating, determined to make an attempt, she hit a couple of off-key notes, laughed at her blunders, then found a choppy rhythm. Her recital teacher would have cringed. Several weeks ago Kelly herself would have cringed. She rarely did anything less than perfectly—other than shooting trash cans.
But imperfection was incredibly freeing…and fun.
This is what Chance had been talking about. What she’d been missing. Community spirit. Friendships. Joining in.
Fun.
“Wait till Pastor Dan finds out how well you play the piano,” Dora said when the lively song came to an end. “He’ll be recruiting you for Sunday services.”
Kelly laughed. Never mind that she wouldn’t be here for enough Sunday services to take over the job of pianist, she wasn’t going to let anything dampen her spirits tonight. “Which one of you are going to tell on me?”
Innocent looks abounded, yet that didn’t mean a thing in Shotgun Ridge. No doubt the preacher would be informed by the time the group reached town.
“Are ya’ll ready to go?” Eden asked. “We’ll carol at Brewer’s, then head on over to the church for the cookie exchange.”
“If you don’t have cookies, Eden has enough to go around for all of us,” Emily said. “And don’t feel bad. She did my baking for me.”
That was because Emily had brand-new twins to deal with, Kelly knew, which didn’t leave her a lot of time to spend in the kitchen. “I baked,” Kelly said shyly, inordinately proud of herself.
Chance gave her a smile she couldn’t decipher. Pride? Love? “You get the goodies. I’ll bundle the kids.”
Kelly fairly ran into the kitchen, snatched up the tins, turned off the burner under the pot of cider and was back in the front room in record time. It seemed as though everyone was talking and laughing at once. The festive air gave her a warm tickle in her stomach. These people were here for her, waiting to include her in their community. Well, not only her. They were here for Chance, too.
The camaraderie, the inclusion, made her heart burst with joy. This was such a new experience. And she planned to embrace it with both arms, accept the joy into her heart.
Chance held the tins of cookies as she slipped into her coat, then reached over and lifted her hair out of the collar, his fingertips resting against her neck for a moment longer than necessary. The intimacy was obvious to her, and probably just as obvious to everyone else in the room who cared to look.
“Quit it,” she whispered, but he only grinned and slung an arm around her as they followed the neighbors out of the house.
They couldn’t have picked a more beautiful night for caroling. The sky was filled with a million stars. Even the moon couldn’t dim the vast, diamondlike blanket overhead, a sight one couldn’t see in the city.
Kelly glanced at the snowmobiles in the yard, then at the vehicles, several powered by engines and others by animals. The couples with young babies piled into the pickup trucks. Chance led her to the hay wagon, and Kelly was thrilled.
“How will we get back home if we don’t take our own car?”
“Same way we get to town.” He lifted her into the back of the horse-drawn hay wagon Wyatt Malone was piloting, then handed up each of the girls and vaulted in beside them.
Bells jingled as the horses began to walk, then broke into a trot. Kelly wanted to laugh from the sheer joy of it all. With her arms around both of her daughters, she sat between Chance’s splayed thighs, her back leaning against his chest, and joined in singing “Frosty the Snowman.”
Jessica belted out the words with little regard to tune, and Kimberly rocked her head in time with the rhythm. Chance’s deep voice lifted above them, his arms warm where they wrapped around to encompass all three of them.
Just like a family. His family.
Kelly experienced a moment of sadness that this would all come to an end very soon.
“Sing, Hollywood.”
She leaned her head back, looked up at him. “I am.”
His gentle eyes chastised her. “You’re thinking too much. This isn’t the night for that.”
“I know. Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For this.” She indicated the wagon, bales of hay, the neighbors and the countryside with a sweep of her hand.
“I’m afraid I can’t take the credit. This is a Shotgun Ridge tradition.”
“Not everyone adheres to tradition.”
He pressed his lips to the top of her head, said quietly, “I do. Always.”
Kelly linked her fingers with his, pulled his arms more securely around herself and her daughters. This man was nothing like her late husband.
This was a man who’d be content to stay home at night, who’d carry half the load or more without question or qualm. Who’d never balk at a simple family dinner when there was an invitation for a fancier do waiting on the hall table. A man who truly enjoyed people and the season for who and what they were, instead of what they could do for him.
A man a woman could trust implicitly with her heart.
“KEEP THE KIDS outside for a minute,” Chance said when the Malones dropped them off at home several hours later.
Kelly nodded and watched him jump down off the hay wagon. She knew what he was up to. During the cookie exchange at the church, Chance had slipped out with Skeeter Hawkins, Wyatt’s foreman, to retrieve the puppy Jessica and Kimberly had fallen in love with. Kelly had watched them leave and return, both men wearing pleased looks on their faces. Skeeter Hawkins had the bowlegged gait of a man who’d ridden a horse all his life. He’d been the foreman on the Double M since Wyatt had been a boy. The old man could still outrope any cowboy around. And he was a sucker for little girls and playing Santa Claus.
Jessica and Kimberly exchanged hugs with Ian and Nikki, and made plans for the next sleepover. Kelly worried that the kids were spending too much time at other people’s houses and decided they should invite Nikki and Ian to stay here next time.
They were building so many new traditions, cementing relationships—falling in love…all of them. And though it was wonderful, it was also dangerous. It would only make the parting more difficult.
“Where’s Chance?” Jessica asked when the hay wagon rolled out of the yard, bells jingling.
“I think he went inside,” Kelly said, barely able to keep her excitement in check. “He probably got cold. Shall we go see?”
She took each of the girl’s hands in hers and mounted the porch steps. In the living room, the lamps were low, the Christmas lights on the tree lit and sparkling like gemstones.
Beneath the tree in an open cardboard box was a tiny black-and-white border collie pup, a huge red bo
w tied around its neck.
“Snowball!” Jessica shrieked, charging across the room, nearly knocking Chance over as she reached to scoop up the little dog. Kimmy, eyes wide and delighted, ran to join her sister. She looked up at Chance, then at Kelly, hope shining in her round eyes.
“Is he ours? Really and truly?” Jess asked.
“Yep. All yours. And Kimmy’s, too.” Chance said. “Merry Christmas, girls.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” She hugged the puppy. “Kimmy, look! Mommy, look! He’s ’zactly the one we wanted!”
“I see,” Kelly said, coming to stand beside Chance. The girls both got down on the floor, lavishing love and pats on the excited puppy.
She looked up at Chance. “He is pretty cute.”
“The runt of the litter. But he’s healthy.”
Trust her children to choose the most needy of the bunch.
Chance pulled Kelly over by the fireplace and tugged her down to the floor where they could watch the girls frolic with the puppy.
“I can’t believe they already named him. What if we hadn’t gotten him for them?”
“Are you kidding? Those girls know darn well they’ve got us wrapped around their fingers.”
Kelly smiled. “Shameless, isn’t it.”
He ran a fingertip over her cheek, smoothed her hair behind her ear. He was so close, his gaze so intense, so…loving. Kelly had an urge to step away, but Chance seemed to read her intent and pulled her closer, draping his arm around her shoulders, holding her back to his chest as he leaned against the couch.
Jess suddenly giggled when the puppy skidded on the quilted tree skirt, then sniffed at the string of popcorn hanging from a low branch. “Look, Kimmy! Marcy patted him on the head.”
Kelly nearly groaned. “I’d thought a puppy would replace the imaginary angel.”
“And you’re so sure she’s imaginary?”
“Oh, for…” She looked at him, saw his smile. “You’re a good man, Chance Hammond.”
“Yeah, I keep telling you that.”
She shook her head, gave his thigh a whack. He covered her hand before she could draw it away, pressed it against his denim-clad leg.
