HOLLY AND MISTLETOE

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HOLLY AND MISTLETOE Page 6

by Susan Mallery


  Louise slowly shook her head. "Mostly you're a pain in the butt, Jordan, but sometimes you can be a real nice guy."

  "Don't let it get out."

  She grinned. "Who would believe me?"

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  « ^ »

  When Holly arrived the next day, Louise was already gone. The housekeeper had left a note on the front door explaining she was baby-sitting for one of the "friendly" Haynes brothers and for Holly to come on in and make herself comfortable.

  Holly tested the front door and found it open, then she stepped inside. The house was silent, and there weren't any smells of cooking. After letting Mistletoe out of her basket, Holly walked into the kitchen, where she found another note telling her that Louise had prepared a casserole for dinner. It was in the refrigerator and would require forty-five minutes at three hundred and fifty degrees to heat. There was also a salad and a loaf of French bread.

  "I could get used to this," Holly said softly, and smiled. Mistletoe strolled into the kitchen and wrapped herself around Holly's legs.

  "She even left you some chicken."

  Mistletoe purred.

  "You like Louise don't you?" Holly said, bending over and stroking her cat. Mistletoe raised her head to have it scratched between her ears. Her purr rumbled louder.

  "I like her, too," Holly said. "And I like Jordan." She crouched down and rubbed under Mistletoe's chin.

  "I have a confession," she continued. "I feel badly that Jordan got hurt saving your life, but I'm not completely sorry that he's having to rest for a while, if that makes sense."

  Mistletoe looked at her with bright green, knowing eyes.

  "I like coming here to visit him," Holly whispered.

  Mistletoe's gaze never wavered. She seemed to figure out the topic of conversation, because her eyes narrowed and she gave a short, sharp pftt before walking off.

  Holly followed her into the hallway, then made her way through the library. At the door to the study, she paused.

  Jordan sat up in his hospital bed. Today he wore a cobalt blue T-shirt. While she missed his bare chest, the man sure knew how to fill out clothes. The shoulders were pulled tight, and the much-washed fabric molded itself against his chest.

  Dark hair hung over his forehead, and his brow was furrowed in concentration. As always he took her breath away. Her legs began to tremble, and she wondered if she would be able to get out a coherent thought. After so many days she would have thought she would get over her attraction or befuddlement, but she hadn't. Briefly she wondered if it would always be like this.

  She smiled. Always. As if they were going to continue to see each other. No doubt as soon as he was up and around, Jordan would be delighted to see the last of her. He only bothered with her because he was bored by spending so much time in his own company. Once he could resume his life, he wouldn't have time for a slightly overweight, shy, twenty-eight-year-old virgin.

  She raised her hand and knocked on the door frame. Jordan looked up.

  "I've been waiting for you," he said, deepening his voice until it sounded like thick dark chocolate blending with rich cream.

  "I was delayed at the store. A couple of women came in wanting to buy wreaths. I have so many to choose from, they had trouble making up their minds. In the end they bought six."

  Jordan set down the papers he'd been studying. "Far be it from me to interfere with your business." He motioned to the chair next to him. "Have a seat. I want to talk to you about something."

  She settled down next to him, and he handed her an old photograph. She studied it for several seconds before recognizing the structure in the picture.

  "This is your house," she said.

  "Yeah. Right after it was completed. Check out the old cars in front."

  Although the mansions in Glenwood had been constructed in the Victorian style, most of them had been built around the turn of the century or a few years later. They'd been the first in the area to have complete indoor plumbing and that newfangled invention: electric lights.

  Holly noted the beautiful lines of the house, then realized the just-planted saplings all around the yard had grown to be the majestic oaks and pines she'd parked under today.

  "Can I make it look like it used to?" Jordan asked.

  "Sure. With enough time and money, anything is possible. Some original fixtures, switches and that sort of thing might be hard to find, but practically it's often better to use reproductions. If the structure is sound, you can do anything. I assume you had that checked before you bought the place."

  He nodded.

  "Then the rest of it isn't that bad."

  She stared at the photo and wondered what it would be like to own something as wonderful as this house. Maybe Jordan would let her help him with some of the work. She would be thrilled to give him the benefit of her experience.

  She held the picture, but instead of seeing the image, she saw Jordan laughing. Her mouth curved up in response. He was so good-looking he would be dangerous to be around for any length of time. But she would try to muddle through.

  A part of her wondered why he was being so nice to her. She knew some of it was because she was keeping him company. Foolishly she wanted him to act that way because he liked her.

  What a silly dream, she told herself, and knew it came from her loneliness. While her mother had been ill, especially the last couple of years before her death, Holly hadn't had time to make and keep friends. If she wasn't working to pay the bills, she was home caring for her mother.

  After her mother's death, she'd been too numb to think about anything but surviving. Since moving to Glenwood, she'd finally been able to acknowledge the emptiness she carried around inside. However, she hadn't had a chance to do anything about it. Being with Jordan was both perfect pleasure and penetrating pain. He made her laugh and feel as if she finally fit in somewhere. He also pointed out the silence of her days and coldness of her nights. He made her want things she'd never had. He made her dream again.

  While she didn't mind the dreaming, sometimes she found the process uncomfortable. Since meeting him, he had been the focal point of her dreams. Silly and pointless, she reminded herself. Jordan Haynes was—

  A large hand moved up and down in front of her face. "Holly, are you still in there?"

  She blinked several times and stared at him. "What?"

  "I'm talking and talking, but you're a million miles away."

  She laughed to cover up her rush of embarrassment. Thank goodness he couldn't know what she was thinking.

  "Sorry. This photograph set me off." She handed it to him, then folded her hands in her lap. "You have my complete attention. What were you saying?"

  "I have a proposition for you."

  "P-proposition?" Her mind went blank for a split second. Her body filled with that mysterious heat Jordan was forever setting off in her.

  She was reasonably sure she was attracted to him. Her body was always tingling, burning, humming and shaking when they were together. But she didn't know what any of that meant. Was it normal? Would she get over it? Was it specifically about him, or would it have happened if she spent time with any good-looking man?

  If only she had more experience with the male gender. If only she could know what to do.

  He picked up a couple of photographs showing the interior of the house as it had been seventy years earlier. "I've wanted to start work, but I haven't had the time. And now with this—" he motioned to his hospital bed "—it's going to be a while until I can get going."

  Holly bit her lower lip. She wasn't sure where he was going with this. Did he want her to offer to help? She would be happy to.

  "That's where you come in," he said, and gave her a winning smile. She was relieved that she was sitting down.

  If she'd been standing, she would have been concerned her knees would give out.

  "I want to hire you," he said.

  "Really?"

  He nodded.

  "I've neve
r done anything like that before," she said slowly. "Although I don't know why I couldn't." She thought for a moment. "I would love to work on the house. It's wonderful. Just the dining room alone, with those high ceilings and the beautiful chair-rail molding. I do have the store, though. That would be my first priority."

  "No problem. The store's closed Sunday and Monday, right?"

  "Yes."

  "What about working Monday and two evenings?"

  Holly twisted her fingers together and hoped she wasn't grinning too broadly. Jordan didn't want to get rid of her. He wanted to see her again. So what if it was just about restoring the house? He would still be here, and they could talk. Maybe—

  "I'd like to pay you with cash, and room and board."

  Her head snapped up, and she stared at him. "What?" He leaned back against the bed and met her gaze.

  "You're surprised."

  "I don't know what to say." She didn't know what to feel, either. Room and board? He expected her to live here? With him?

  Then she remembered what had happened the previous day. She'd admitted she was living in the store and had used his shower. He thought she was homeless and destitute.

  "I don't need your charity," she said, and rose to her feet.

  He grabbed her hand before she could leave the room. "It's not charity," he said, tugging her close until she was standing next to the bed. "Please don't be angry."

  His dark eyes widened slightly. She tried to read what he was thinking. She didn't think she saw pity, but how would she know?

  When he pulled on her hand again, she had no choice but to sink onto the mattress beside him. Her breathing increased slightly as she noticed he continued to hold her fingers in his. This wasn't a medicinal touch. This was … well, she wasn't sure what it was. Her heart pounded rapidly, thudding against her ribs. She was having trouble thinking.

  "The house needs work," he said quietly. "You're the town expert."

  "I'm sure there are other people just as qualified as me."

  "None that I know."

  "This is all an elaborate ploy," she told him. "You're offering me a place to stay because you feel sorry for me."

  His thumb stroked her palm, disturbing the last few remaining connections in her brain. She stared at him, at the square shape of his jaw and his firm mouth. Faint stubble darkened his cheeks. She was close enough to see the laugh lines around his eyes and the slight bump on the bridge of his nose.

  His skin was tanned, different from her paleness. Everything about him was different. The way he talked, his scent, the shape of his body. The differences both frightened and intrigued her.

  "I'm offering you a place to stay for two reasons. First I like your company. Second I don't think it's safe for you to live at your shop. The business district is deserted at night. If something were to happen, you would be in that part of town alone."

  But she barely heard what he was saying. He liked her company. Wasn't that the same as liking her?

  The offer was tempting. Not just because of Jordan, although he was the biggest temptation of all, but also because she missed living in a real home. She could take a shower every day and cook in a kitchen with more than a hot plate. She could sleep in a regular bed and not in a sleeping bag on an uncomfortable antique sofa.

  "Say yes," he commanded.

  She pulled her hand free of his fingers so she could think. There were merits to his plan. "Mistletoe would have to come with me. I couldn't leave her in the store."

  Despite the animal's sweet nature, the Persian and Jordan didn't get along. Holly had tried explaining that Jordan had saved Mistletoe's life, but the cat remained unimpressed.

  Jordan exhaled deeply. "I figured that. Mistletoe can stay here, too."

  "She really is grateful to you," Holly said.

  "Oh, yeah, I can tell. So what's it going to be? Are you going to help me out here or callously abandon me?"

  He made it sound as if she would be doing him a favor when it was really the other way around. She was tempted. Very tempted. She'd never lived with a man before and would probably never again live with one like Jordan. Should she just take the opportunity and be grateful?

  "Louise will still be here," he said.

  "That's nice. I like Louise."

  He ignored that. "I meant, so you wouldn't have to worry. She'll be here to act as chaperon."

  Holly stared at him. He thought she was worried he might try something? Before she could stop herself, she laughed.

  He didn't share her amusement. "I think I've just been insulted," he muttered.

  "No," she said quickly to reassure him. "I wasn't laughing at you. While I appreciate your concern, I wasn't worried that—" Her throat closed. "Well, that you would, you know." He still looked confused and vaguely put out. She drew in a deep breath. "I know you would never be interested in someone like me."

  "Why not?"

  She opened her mouth, but couldn't find any words. Why not? It was so obvious. Because he was Jordan Haynes and she was just a silly woman who didn't know diddly about men. "Because, well, I don't know much about men, but there must be a hundred reasons."

  "Name one."

  She could have named ten, but they were all too embarrassing. She wasn't pretty enough, she wasn't skinny enough, she wasn't anything enough.

  His gaze narrowed and seemed to focus on her face. "You're right about one thing, Holly. You don't know anything about men."

  He reached for her hand. She let him take it, not expecting him to tug her forward. She found herself falling toward him. She put out her right hand to keep herself from landing on his chest. She was leaning toward him, embarrassingly close to his face. His eyes darkened to the color of the night sky. His sweet breath fanned her face.

  Deep inside, that unexplainable heat flared to life. She told herself to run away, but she couldn't move. Something was going to happen; she could sense it. And no matter what it was, she wanted to experience it fully.

  She expected a quick, witty retort or maybe a hug, but she didn't expect him to kiss her. In that heart-stopping moment, when he moved closer and his attention focused on her mouth, she realized his intentions. And then it was too late.

  His lips brushed against hers. She jerked awkwardly, and he wrapped his free arm around her back, drawing her closer. She sat stiffly, one hand captured in his, the other braced on the bed.

  Jordan lifted his head slightly and smiled. "Relax. This isn't going to hurt." Then he raised the bed until they were eye to eye. He released her hand and put both arms around her. Not having anything else to do, her hands fluttered nervously.

  "Put them on my shoulders," he murmured, and it was the last thing he said for a long time.

  As she followed his instructions and rested the tips of her fingers on his broad shoulders, his mouth once again brushed hers. Holly had been kissed once, years before. It had been the chaste, innocent kiss of inexperienced teenagers. It had not prepared her for Jordan.

  He claimed her mouth. His lips moved back and forth, exploring her lips, discovering every millimeter of skin. She was too stunned to respond. She could feel the warmth of him radiating toward her like a heater. Through the tips of her fingers, she sensed his strength. He drew her closer, and powerful muscles shifted.

  One of his hands pressed against her spine between her shoulder blades. He kneaded her slightly. Perhaps the action was meant to relax her, but she was too overwhelmed by sensation. Her mind flitted from place to place, receiving all the sensory input and trying to sort it out. His other hand cupped her hip. The intimacy embarrassed her. She felt awkward, all large curves and stiff muscles. She couldn't flow with the moment.

  He moved his mouth away from her lips and planted a kiss by her chin. An electric jolt rippled through her. Another kiss caressed her jawline. He slipped toward her ear, ending up by her neck. Sizzling impulse leapt just under her skin, and she fought against the need to sag against him. Holding herself stiff and straight took so much energy.


  Then Jordan licked the sensitive skin just under her ear. Heat exploded inside her. The unfamiliar fire whipped through her, fanned by needs she didn't understand. Her breasts ached as if they'd swollen. For the first time in her life, she could actually feel the inside of her soft cotton bra pressing against her nipples. It was uncomfortable.

  Between her legs the first flicker of awareness sparked to life. A heaviness filled her, and she pressed her thighs tightly together to hold all the feelings inside.

  He returned his attention to her mouth again. This time she kissed him back. She moved her lips against his. Oddly enough it was getting more difficult to breathe. She relaxed her fingers and held on to his shoulders. The hand on her back began to stroke up and down, while the one on her hip squeezed and kneaded.

  Then he did the most amazing thing. He touched her lower lip with his tongue. Her breath caught in her throat, and all her attention focused on that tiny damp spot on her sensitized skin.

  She didn't know what to do. She'd read about that kind of kissing in books, of course. She knew that other people did it. But she'd never imagined she would have the chance to experience it herself. There was something faintly wicked about the thought. Delightfully wicked.

  When he stroked her a third time, she knew he wanted her to open her mouth. She wanted it, but it seemed too bold and flagrant. As if she were begging him to kiss her. Confusion settled on her like a blanket. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't think.

  "You're thinking too much," Jordan murmured.

  She jerked back in shock and stared at him. "How can you read my mind?"

  He opened his eyes, exposing dilated pupils and a hungry expression. "I don't have to. Your body gives you away. You're too scared to relax. It's just a kiss, Holly. It can't be your first one." He smiled at the thought.

  "Of course not," she said, reminding herself technically it wasn't a lie. There had been that kiss when she was fifteen. Even if it hadn't been anything like this, it still counted.

  He cupped her face in his hands. "You're lovely," he said, then slid his fingers into her hair. She wore it in a loose French braid, and he wove through the strands, massaging her scalp and making her want to moan with pleasure.

 

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