by Lori Wilde
He hauled her up flush against his body on the gently swaying suspension bridge, in the mist.
She made a soft mewling noise, like an uncomfortable kitten. But feisty too. She nipped his bottom lip between her teeth. Growled. Laughed.
Man, this was fun.
Kelsey slipped her arm underneath his jacket, fisted the back of his shirt in her hand, tugged as if she wanted to rip it off his body.
I’m game.
Noah tilted her head back, dove deep. Held her steady while he poured every ounce of his focus into kissing her.
God! She tasted sweet and rich. He did not remember her tasting this good. But ten years was a long time.
Nibbling, licking, tasting. His hands roving over her body, appreciating her delicate bone structure, her lithe, lean muscles, the rise and fall of her chest.
He felt her knees buckle, her body sway. He held her steady, kissed her again. He thrilled to the zap of wildness rising up through the water, through the boards of the bridge, through the soles of his feet, up his spine. Grounding him in the element. Delivering energy from him to her.
Their mouths fused.
It felt to Noah as if they were caught up in a riptide of past and future all swirling into this one passionate kiss. Incredible, this rush of hope filling up his chest, heady and strange. He shimmered from his toes to the center of his forehead.
Vibrated. Tingled. Burned.
Unbelievable.
Overstating much, Bronco? It’s just a damn kiss.
She stilled beneath him, her body stiffening.
He stopped kissing her. Looked into her eyes. Into her bewildered expression as she struggled to process what was going on.
Clueless.
Hey, he was clueless too.
She let go of his shirt. “I’ve never . . . that was . . . wow,” she whispered. “Just wow.”
He smiled. “I’d forgotten how much fun it was to kiss you.”
“Me too.” She fingered her lips.
Lips he wanted to plow through like pudding.
She gave him a foxy smile.
“Mistletoe magic,” he said.
“Mistletoe,” she echoed, her eye muscle twitching wildly again, but this time he did not try to soothe it. He was unsettled himself.
“Well.” Noah dusted his palms together and pretended that she hadn’t just rocked his entire world. “How about I give you ladies a tour of Christmas Island on our way to the boatel?”
Chapter 7
Breathlessly, Kelsey moved from underneath the archway, crossing the threshold between the marina deck and the suspension bridge, and headed for the golf cart. The bridge swayed gently beneath her weight. Noah bent to pick up the luggage he’d dropped when he’d grabbed for Tasha to keep her from falling.
Grinning, Tasha gave her a thumbs-up. Mouthed, Go get him, girl.
But she was not going to “go get him.” She kissed him because she’d agreed to the silly Christmas of Yes. Dare One was over and done with. Only four more to go.
Yes, it was a great kiss, but so what? It wasn’t as if anything would come of it. She didn’t want anything to come of it. She was just getting out of a relationship, and trying to find herself, which was the only reason she was here. Jumping into something with Noah at this juncture would be dumb, dumb, dumb.
Tasha shoved her toward the passenger side of the golf cart, jumped into the backseat and sprawled out, so there was no place for Kelsey.
Kelsey glared at her. “Trade places with me,” she hissed while Noah stowed their luggage on the back of the golf cart and got behind the wheel.
Tasha shook her head. “Nothing doing.”
Kelsey narrowed her eyes and her mouth. You are so dead.
Her best friend giggled, not the least bit threatened, and whispered, “A Christmas of Yes.”
“Have a seat,” Noah invited, patting the spot next to him.
Kelsey edged down, strapped on her seat belt.
The sleeve of his jacket rode up on his arm, revealing a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist. One word in beautiful black calligraphy script.
Dare.
Really, seriously? Was “dare” becoming her personal theme? She didn’t like that. She’d spent her life avoiding rash decisions.
Noah had not had that tattoo when he was seventeen. When had he gotten it? And why?
Dare.
That summed up his personality to a T. Everything he did he tackled with passion and gusto. Even if he didn’t have the best staying power in the world because his quicksilver mind tended to jump from one thing to the next.
Dare.
Did he approach sex with that same degree of passion? She recalled how his hot tongue had done strange and wonderful things to her teenage body.
How he’d run his fevered hand up her bare belly as they lay on that long-ago dock, and how his fingers had loosened the strap of her bikini top. How he’d pressed his erect shaft against her soft thigh and how her heart pounded blood into her ears with the tympani of tribal drums.
But mostly, she remembered the longing. Desperate and overwhelming. Yearning and burning.
Obsessed.
With him.
Oh crap.
But that was a long time ago. They had both changed. They weren’t reckless kids anymore, acting on instinct and the headiness of puppy love.
So what if his kiss knocked her socks off? She was a controlled person. She wasn’t impulsive. Didn’t make rash decisions or dive into risky water. After kissing Noah, she felt like she’d walked off a gangplank backward and plunged into the deep end of the ocean.
Her right eye twitched. A hard spasm that lowered her lid. She put a hand to her temple, ducked her head, and took a deep breath. Held it for as long as she could before slowly letting it out through clenched teeth.
Calm down.
“We’re going the long way around.” Noah started the golf cart.
The marina disappeared from view as he drove around the far side of the island. Gusty wind loosened hair from Kelsey’s braid, and whipped the strands into her face. The air smelled of mist and fried catfish from Froggie’s diner along the opposite shoreline.
“Does your family still own Froggie’s?” she asked.
“Dad sold it when he remarried,” Noah said. “The end of an era.”
She studied his profile as he guided the golf cart down the dirt path along the water. What contrast. The tall, muscular man in a frivolous Christmas apron sticking out from underneath his jacket.
There was gentleness in the softness of his smile, and the kindness in his eyes—an erotic combo, those hard muscles, and tender ways. And she couldn’t help wondering what he looked like naked. Oh, she’d seen him shirtless before, but that had been ten years ago when he was lean and seventeen.
He raised his head, caught her watching him.
Winked.
Sexual energy rolled off him, blasting body heat from him into her. And she had a deep, sudden yearning for him that churned through her blood, heavy and potent.
And it scared Kelsey to her roots.
He was everything she’d spent the last decade avoiding. A man who moved her. A man who stirred her physical desires. A man who had the power to dismantle her with his smile, that wink, and those chocolate brown eyes.
Dismantle, unravel, and shove her so far out of her comfort zone she could never find her way back.
Holy smokes.
Was that why she wanted him? Because he could tear apart her prim safe little life if she dared let it happen?
Dare.
That damn word again.
Craziness. She had to stop thinking like this. Kelsey swiveled her head to see what Tasha was doing.
Tasha had her short legs stretched in front of her, ankles crossed. She sat near enough for Kelsey to reach over and tweak the toe of her boot if she wanted. Her friend’s face was tilted up to the cloudy gray sky, her fingers interlaced, palms cradling the back of her head, elbows out, and she was grinning l
ike she was the most cunning matchmaker ever.
Tasha hummed “Reunited” by Peaches and Herb.
Aww, c’mon. Kelsey’s eye jumped like mad, and she prayed that Noah couldn’t hear what Tasha was humming.
Kelsey bugged her eyes, glared at her friend. Stop it.
Irrepressible, Tasha kept right on humming.
The fog grew heavier the farther they went and a fine mist settled over their clothes. She felt her hair frizz. The mist became a gray blanket, wrapping them in a weighted whirl. It felt like some kind of fairy-tale fantasy, as surreal as a dream.
Could Noah be a wild fling? Did she dare? It was a Christmas of Yes, after all.
Why not?
The fog was mysterious and layered. Just like Noah. What went on behind his intelligent eyes? What was he thinking? Did he feel this chemistry as strongly as she? Her gaze trailed to his hands. Big, strong, masculine hands. Then she dropped her gaze to his wrist.
Dare.
It was a motto. A credo. An anthem. A flipping call to action. But at the same time, it felt like a warning. Dare too much, and you could end up damaged.
Her mind said, Keep away, don’t take a chance. Her soul cried, Who cares? Look at that body, will ya?
Her body heated up all over again. And her heart, oh the stupid thing, went all squishy and soft and romantic. Thinking about sex with Noah had Kelsey drawing in a deep breath and sent her irritating eye tic into overdrive.
“There’s Camp Hope.” Noah pointed out across the length of the lake.
Kelsey didn’t need the reminder. That dock, that night, was forever etched in her memory.
“That’s where you two met, huh?”
Kelsey looked back at her friend again. Tasha fished a clementine orange from the pocket of her jacket and started peeling, then offered a second orange to her. Kelsey held up a palm. Shook her head. Her stomach was tied up in knots. She couldn’t eat if she tried.
“We met there every summer for six years.” Noah was studying Kelsey with heavily lidded eyes.
“So you guys were childhood sweethearts?” Tasha popped a slice of orange into her mouth, chewed. The fragrance of citrus spritzed the air. “That’s so cute. What’s this deal about a sweetheart legend I saw online when I booked the B&B?”
“Marketing silliness,” Kelsey said at the same time Noah said, “Soul mates.”
Kelsey blinked at him. “Soul mates? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“You think the legend is silly?” He gawked at her as if she were a complete stranger and she’d just espoused an opinion that was a deal breaker.
“Ooh.” Tasha stuffed the orange peelings in her pocket and rubbed her palms together. “Conflict. I love it.”
Kelsey rolled her eyes at Noah. “Tasha loves drama. She was a theater major in college.”
“That was before I found my calling in food.” Tasha pointed at Noah. “You, go. Tell me why this sweetheart legend is so hot.”
He cast Kelsey a sidelong glance and sent her a wolfish smile and her pulse, which had finally started to settle down, kicked back up again. He told Tasha the legend of Rebekka Nash and Jon Grant, how they’d reunited on the banks of the Brazos River at twilight. Jon on one side of the river, Rebekka on the other as they’d both come down to water their horses. Noah’s voice took on a romantic quality as he described how the two lovers had swum across the river and met in the middle for their legendary reunion kiss.
“It was the power of Christmas,” he said, “that brought them together.”
“Christmas?” Kelsey shook her head. “Are you telling me Jon and Rebekka met at Christmas?”
“Yep.”
“That’s the first time I’m hearing that version.”
“It’s true,” he said. “You can look it up in The Fascinating History of Twilight, Texas, volume one. It’s in the library.”
“No, no, I’m pretty sure it was summer when they met. They told us the story at camp, remember?”
“It was summer camp, so they might have altered the details to suit the audience, but it’s not the official version.”
“You’re telling me Jon and Rebekka swam across the river in December?” She tapped her chin with an index finger.
“Their love was that powerful.” He sounded as if he truly believed that cockamamie story.
Kelsey folded her arms. “I can’t think of anybody I’d jump into icy waters to kiss.”
“I can,” Noah said, his gaze hot on hers.
Oh my, was he talking about her?
Tasha leaned over to poke Kelsey. “He’s talking about you.”
Kelsey ignored both Tasha’s poke and Noah’s look and said logically, “They would have gotten hypothermia if they’d swum across the water in winter.”
“Maybe they did.” Noah’s brows lowered with his voice. “And the power of their love saved them.”
Kelsey rolled her eyes hard. “They would have frozen to death. Especially back then.”
“But they didn’t.”
“Which is why I question the veracity of a Christmas swim.”
“True love trumps all.” The wind ruffled Noah’s hair, reddened his cheeks. His teasing smile deepened. “Soul mate magic.”
“That’s so romantic.” Tasha sighed and tucked both palms underneath her chin. “They were willing to die for love.”
“It’s just a fable,” Kelsey said to blunt the sudden sharpness pushing through her chest. “There’s no actual proof that any aspect of the story is true.”
“When did you get so crusty?” Noah clicked his tongue like she was a lost cause.
Kelsey studied him. “When did you get so sentimental?”
“You gotta remember,” Tasha interrupted. “Kels just got dumped at the altar yesterday. She’s not normally so down on love.”
Kelsey wished her friend would stop talking. From somewhere on the water, the sound of “White Christmas” drifted out to them over a loudspeaker.
People were gathered on a boat dock, lining up to board a paddle wheel boat. Both the dock and the boat were lavishly decorated with lights, wreaths, garlands, the works. But of course: this was Twilight.
“What’s going on over there?” Tasha asked.
“That’s the Brazos Queen taking folks out for an afternoon tour. My twin brother and I own it,” Noah said.
“Wait, you have a twin?” Tasha fanned herself. “You mean there are two guys who look like you, walking around in the world? Move over, Property Brothers.”
“Up ahead,” Noah said, “is the Rockabye.”
The boatel was a paddle wheel twin to the Brazos Queen. The Rockabye was also decorated to the hilt with Christmas pageantry.
Kelsey found herself watching Noah as he guided the golf cart closer to the floating B&B. His fingers were long and broad and so darn sexy. Once upon a time, those very same fingers had tickled the underside of her chin while his hot wet tongue explored her mouth.
Deep inside, Kelsey felt a frighteningly strong tug of sexual arousal.
“Who generally stays at your boatel?” Tasha asked. “What’s your demographic?”
“During the holidays, tourists throng the town. Twilight is a Christmas mecca. People usually choose the Rockabye because it’s quiet and off the beaten path, but still near enough to walk to town. Plus, we have a grand view of the New Year’s Eve fireworks display. You can sit in the roof dome lounge, have a drink and relax.”
Kelsey cocked her head and spied a small glass dome structure on the bridge of the Rockabye that had been added as an extension to the pilot house. She imagined herself in the lounge with Noah watching fireworks.
Felt corresponding fireworks shoot through her.
“How many guests can you accommodate?” Tasha asked.
“We have seven bedrooms with their own private baths, plus the suite you reserved,” Noah said.
“Nice.”
Noah pulled to a stop inside a covered portico that housed two other golf carts along with outdoor supplies.
Tasha jumped from the backseat, grabbed her luggage, and started up the wooden decking toward the boatel, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll check us in.”
Kelsey heard, rather than saw, her friend bounce up the dock toward the Rockabye. Her eyes were full of Noah. He got out and came around to her side of the golf cart, reached out his hand.
“Watch out, the ground is boggy from the recent rains and in those shoes . . .” He shook his head at her high-heeled sandals.
She took his hand. The mist swirled. The air was alive with the electricity of their contact. Her skin prickled and her nerve endings danced.
They hung together for a whispered heartbeat with their hands joined.
Touching.
She didn’t know if the magic came from Christmas Island or the evocative weather or from the very real feel of Noah’s skin on hers, but there was definitely something going on here.
Something crazy and mysterious and far outside her comfort zone.
Noah was breathing hard, just as hard as she was, in a ragged, rough-edged rhythm.
A nexus of complicated feelings rippled through her. He guided her toward the deck.
The toe of her shoe caught on a loose board. She stumbled and lost her balance. “Oh, oh!”
He was there.
His body, a solid wall, blocking her, keeping her from falling. Noah reached out to caress her jumping eye muscle again. Soothingly, rhythmically.
Why was she suddenly so clumsy? What was it about him that snatched her equilibrium right out from underneath her?
And just what in the hell was she going to do about it?
Chapter 8
You’re begging for trouble, MacGregor.
He’d known better than to touch Kelsey. Noah had caressed her temple to ease her twitching eye, and to connect with the vulnerability that she couldn’t hide. Even as a teenager she’d always cared too much, felt too much. It showed up on her face, even then, and here he was taking full advantage of her weakness.
Because he wanted her.
Wanted her so badly he could taste it.
From the moment it dawned on him that the cool blonde getting out of the Uber was Kelsey James—his first crush, first kiss, first love, first everything—he’d been gobsmacked. She was the last person he expected to show up on Christmas Island.
