Kiss Me at Last (A Wescott Springs Novella)

by Holly Cortelyou

  "I hope so." Melinda studied her fingers as she fiddled with the stem of her wineglass.

  "Seriously, you're a tremendous success. The previous owner of your wine shop didn't go broke or anything, but you've taken it to a whole other level. And the addition of the champagnes and all the international wines has made it the go-to shop for tourists and locals alike."

  "Stop," Melinda said with a slight flush on her cheeks. "You don't even like wines, so how could you possibly know all that?"

  "Everybody in Vail and Wescott Springs knows it." Sean gave her a so-there stare.

  "Everybody? That sounds like you've made it up."

  "As a matter of fact, the mayor sang your praises to me this afternoon and was quite curious to see how your remodel turns out. Our local state rep said folks in Denver were talking about the White Rose."

  "Really?"

  "Yes. Believe it. I think you're a rockstar in the making."

  Melinda shook her head, but a smile lurked at the corners of her mouth. "Come on, it's getting chilly. Let's go grab some dessert."

  "Nothing like red wine and chocolate."

  "You choose the sweet, and I'll pair the wine with it. I insist that you have to have wine this time." With a saucy glance back over her shoulder, Melinda led the way back to the ballroom.

  "Game on." Sean grabbed her hand in his, and she squeezed back.

  Need and want surged. His gaze skimmed over the long, slim line of her bare arm, the nip of a waist, and the luscious curve of her hips and round backside. Her flamboyant blue skirt showed off her toned legs to perfection. She was all woman. Strong and sexy. Sensual and fun.

  "Over here," Melinda said and tugged him toward a trio of tables littered with pastries, chocolates, and cookies.

  All of the sudden, he realized he was happy that Steve Bodecker had broken his leg and left Jill in a lurch. This surprise job at the White Rose was turning into the best piece of luck that he'd had in a long time.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HOURS LATER, SEAN and Melinda bustled through his front door in a whirlwind of laughter, happy dogs, and clicking heels. As they stood under the dimly lit chandelier, Sean’s gaze held steady on her luminous, brown eyes, and her smile faltered. She placed a hand on the soft coral stole covering her arms and shoulders, but she hesitated and flicked her glance away from him.

  "Let me get your wrap," Sean said.

  "Don't worry, I'll bring it to my room with me."

  Her words drifted up to the peaked ceiling of the foyer and seemed to echo back down through Sean's body. Ethel and Lucy pushed up against his legs, insisting on attention. Melinda bent and stroked Lucy's velvety ears. A soft smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  "What a lovely greeting party." Melinda leaned closer and raked her fingernails along the dog's spine. Lucy stretched and then leaned into Melinda's leg as if taking up permanent residence.

  "Terrible beggars." Sean thumped Ethel a few times on her side before vigorously rubbing an itchy spot on her rump right before her tail. Ethel trembled, and her tail swished in a rapid blur.

  Melinda folded her wrap over her arm and adjusted her clutch in her hand as she glanced toward the stairs. Sean sensed her uncertainty as she shifted her weight from one delicate high heel to the other. He pulled off his coat and tossed it over the back of a straight-back chair.

  "I'm still thirsty after all of that socializing. Anything for you?" Sean was careful to keep his tone light. She looked like a skittish colt ready to bolt back to the barn at the first sight of trouble.

  "You're right. I think I talked almost nonstop for the whole event. I'm parched." Melinda stood rooted to the wide, dark wood planks for a long moment before she stepped forward and draped the silky folds of her wrap on top of Sean's indigo blue jacket, letting her purse slip silently to the chair seat.

  "What sounds good?"

  "A big glass of ice water, please. After such a mishmash of wines and chocolates, I'd better rehydrate."

  "I have no idea how you can do so many of these parties. I think I maxed out after the third dessert and the fourth wine."

  "Pacing is everything, and I've learned to be very discreet and dump quite a bit in the waste pitchers."

  Sean raised his eyebrows in question as he grabbed two glasses from the kitchen cupboards and filled them with ice and then chilled water from the fridge dispenser.

  "Actually, when distributors come by," she continued, "we spit almost all of it out. Otherwise, my liver would be completely pickled by now."

  Sean's low laughter rumbled as he handed Melinda her drink. "Your image is blown. It’s not prissy sips and extended pinky fingers. You wine types are spitting it all out."

  "It's not like we're old West cowboys hawking tobacco into spittoons." Melinda's voice was indignant, but carried a teasing note underneath. "Give us wine aficionados a little credit, please."

  "This is Colorado. We do everything a little bit different here."

  "Oh really?" Melinda put her hand on her hip, and her accent dripped with the lady of the English manor tone.

  "It's bigger and bolder here. The mountains are taller, the snow is deeper, and the women stand toe-to-toe with anyone." Sean held up his hands in surrender. "Maybe I like a woman who spits."

  "You're ridiculous."

  Sean moved to the back porch door, and the dogs bolted out as soon as he opened it.

  "Come on out. This porch has a great view of the meadow."

  "It's dark."

  "Moon's almost full. You'll see."

  Ethel and Lucy bounded down the steps and into the soft moonlight and dewy grass. Melinda followed the pair down to the yard and stood, looking up. A milky glow streamed over her as though she was a statue of a Greek goddess worshiping the night or ready to pursue a midnight hunt. Sean's breath caught in his throat. She was magnificent.

  "What a view." Melinda let out a low whistle. "You're right. It's gorgeous."

  Sean slid his arm around her waist and turned her to face him. "I told you it was nice. You should believe me more often."

  She pressed her hands against his chest. "I don't even like you."

  "Yes, you do." He liked this game.

  "No, I don't. I haven't forgotten that you yelled at me in the council meeting." She straightened her shoulders and her breasts pushed forward. She seemed to dare him to respond.

  "I didn't yell." Sean held his voice steady, but electricity was arcing through his blood.

  "Maybe you didn't." She peered up at him through her lowered lashes.

  "Don't sulk. You only lost an argument." There was laughter in his tone.

  "In public. In front of the whole town." Her voice was low and not at all indignant. "I still don't think you were right."

  "It's not important."

  "Why not?" Melinda 's voice was soft, almost expectant.

  "All that matters is that you are here, right now. In my arms. Under this silvery moonlight." Sean traced a line down the supple skin of her arm from her shoulder to the delicate bend of her elbow to her wrist. She shivered.

  "Cold?"

  "Far from it." She held his gaze.

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her fingers and then slowly rubbed his thumb against her warm palm.

  "Oh!"

  "You're stunning in the moonglow. It makes you look mystical and magical...and all woman."

  Her lower lip dipped and tempted him closer, so Sean eased his hand up her back and drew her nearer. Their lips met in instant flame and need. She clutched at the fabric of his shirt as he wound his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck. Their lips clung. Their tongues teased and tasted. No air or space existed between their bodies.

  Breathless, Melinda arched back. She smiled languorously and traced a finger along his strong cheekbones, down his sharp jaw, and let it settle in the slight dent in his chin. Sean resisted the urge to close his eyes and revel in the sensation. He didn't want to miss a single one of the shifting emotio
ns on her face.

  Melinda's expression turned serious, and she stepped away. Sean blinked in surprise.

  "Let's go back inside." She took a few steps before she turned back to him. "Hurry up. I want to show you just how much I don't even like you." Melinda winked.

  Sean grinned back. "I can arrange that."

  He called the dogs, and then took Melinda's hand. She laced her fingers through his. He brought her hand up and pressed his lips to her smooth skin.

  Melinda purred with satisfaction and tugged him into the great room. The last lingering flames in the fireplace glowed on her skin. Sean wasn't so sure they were going to make it all the way back upstairs. He pulled Melinda close as she wrapped her arms around his waist. With a moan, Sean buried his head in the tangle of her hair and chased kisses along her neck and behind her ear.

  No, they were definitely not going to make it up to the bedroom.

  * * * *

  Hours later, Melinda snuggled against Sean's chest and reveled in the strong, steady warmth of his arm curled protectively around her shoulders. With his hand gently stroking her hair, she let her eyes half close in lazy relaxation.

  She was sated and glowing. It was so natural to lie in Sean's bed and nestle her head into his shoulder as she inhaled his forest and cedar scents. It was grounding and calming.

  She smiled a naughty little smirk. She hadn't been very calm a few minutes ago, but now she was floating on a cloud of contentment.

  What was it about Sean? She felt so safe. So accepted.

  He was kind and gentle, but at the same time, he'd lit a fire in her core that had exploded into an inferno of need and sensuality. All that existed were the rumpled sheets, the moonlight glinting on the dresser mirror, and their entwined bodies.

  Melinda watched the steady rise and fall of Sean's breathing and marveled at the sinewy, lean muscles of his abdomen and the fine, dark trail leading from his navel, temptingly disappearing into the sheet draped low across his hips.

  His every touch was burning and fierce while his silky kisses drove her wild with longing. But it was his eyes that she couldn't forget. They had been passionate, yet clear and honest. It was as if he'd laid himself open to her. Fully, completely.

  Sean stirred and tightened his fingers lightly against her cool flesh. "You're cold," he whispered with his eyes barely slitted open. With a long arm, he snaked a handful of comforter and pulled it over them. He rolled to his side and cradled her into a spooning position. "I'll keep you warm."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SATURDAY MORNING DAWNED with a crisp, clear sky and a hint of frost in the air. After a quick but thorough wake-up call that left them breathless, Sean and Melinda grabbed breakfast bars, rounded up the dogs, and went for an hour-long hike along a trail with shimmering, yellow-tinged aspen leaves and dappled sunshine.

  They spent the day checking on the freshly refinished, and now curing, floors at the wine bar, visiting Sean's multiple jobsites, and then stopping for lunch at a country diner in the heart of Wescott Springs. They strolled through the small shops lining the main street, and Melinda couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a relaxing Saturday. One that was so filled with laughter, companionable chatter, and lingering, sensual touches.

  Hours later, they sat across from each other under the soft lights of a bar as a local band strummed a country music cover. Sean regaled her with amusing stories from his years in the construction industry. The buzz of voices in the bar mingled with the music, but Melinda only heard Sean.

  A flustered server plunked down a pint for Sean and a house red for Melinda and scuttled off before they could ask for an appetizer. Sean shook his head, and Melinda grinned. She raised her glass and they toasted.

  "Okay, Wine Lady. Show me how it's done. Let's see how a professional tests the quality of the grape."

  Melinda laughed and wrinkled her nose at him. "I accept your challenge. I'm sure this is tasty."

  "At least this isn't a dive bar. It should be better than a box wine."

  "Actually, there are some delicious box wines now." Melinda licked her lips and stuck her nose into the bowl of the glass and inhaled the subtle, peppery notes of the zinfandel. She swirled the crimson wine as Sean leaned back in his chair with a half-grin giving him a wolfish look.

  "You make that look exotic and seductive."

  She lowered her eyelashes, tilted her head and shot him a sideways, teasing look. "How can you say that?"

  "You're an unrepentant flirt. Is that eyelash thing your trademark?"

  Melinda shot him a wide-eyed look, and settled her attention back on her glass. She tasted the wine, pronounced it tolerable, and took a hearty swig. She winked, and Sean groaned.

  The music from the band changed to a soft, twangy ballad, and Sean rose with his hand extended. "Let's dance."

  Without even thinking, Melinda took his hand and slipped her fingers against his palm. All she could think of was being close in his arms, and his woodsy scent was intoxicating.

  With a warm palm in the small of her back, Sean held her close. Through the thin fabric of her dress she could feel every tough, sinewy muscle rippling through his torso. His lean legs brushed against her thighs, and a trembling pulse echoed through her veins.

  Sean half hummed the tune under his voice and close to her ear. Heat radiated from him, and Melinda melted into his embrace.

  The beat of the music thrummed through her body, and she fought the urge to grind her hips into Sean's. The tempo changed, and Sean suddenly stopped. In the middle of the dance floor.

  "Let's go home." His voice was gravelly, rough.

  "Yes." It was the only word she could find in her whole vocabulary. It was the only word necessary.

  With the memory of the weight of his hand caressing her hip, she collected her coat and Sean flipped a few bills on the table to cover their tab and a generous tip.

  The chilly mountain air wisped around her as they left the bar, and the stars twinkled boldly in the sable night sky. Melinda lifted her head and inhaled deeply. With a low laugh, she grabbed Sean's hand in hers and dashed toward his pickup.

  They reached the truck, and Sean spun her around and wrapped his arms tight around her. His lips crashed down on hers. It was all heat and electricity and passion. He pushed closer and closer until the cold, hard metal of the truck bumped into her back and butt.

  It was energizing. Fire and ice. Melinda moaned, and her head fell to one side. Sean pressed a lingering, tickling kiss on the side of her neck where it curved into her collarbone.

  Her breasts pressed against his soft suede jacket, and her nipples hardened into twin peaks of awareness, and every nerve ending tingled with expectation.

  Sean cupped her face in both his hands and studied her smile as though it was the Mona Lisa's and contained the secrets of the universe in its depths. Melinda quivered, and her bottom lip fell ever so slightly. With a quick intake of air, Sean bent and took her mouth with his.

  A wave of need and desire soared through Melinda. His lips were warm and gentle as he tasted her. He was all hard male and intoxicating. She gripped the supple leather of his jacket in her fists and pulled him tighter.

  Sean wove his fingers through her hair and cradled her head in his palm. It was protective, masterful, and all delirium. Melinda entwined a bare leg around Sean's denim-clad one and reveled in the cottony roughness rubbing along her skin.

  "Oh woman, you drive me wild."

  A sensual satisfaction slipped through Melinda, and she nipped her lower lip with a teasing, sideways look.

  "Purely intentional, I'm sure."

  Sean laughed as his touch slid down her back and he squeezed a handful of her derriere. A jolt arced through her core and her eyes widened.

  "I think I could fall for you." Sean raised his head and rubbed a thumb against her temple.

  For a fleeting moment, his words spread like an intense, soothing balm through her heart, but before she could draw a full breath, foreboding coiled i
n the pit of her stomach. The cold side of Sean's car suddenly chilled her.

  "Don't say that." She released her grip on his coat, spread her fingers wide, and shoved Sean back. This was all wrong.

  Sean's expression clouded. "Why not?"

  "I'm not the kind of girl that a guy like you should care about."

  "You've lost me." Sean stepped back and slid a hand into his jean pocket.

  "I don't get serious." Her words were sharp. Sean was too likable and that was tempting as hell. "I don't want to hurt you. You're too nice."

  "I hardly proposed a walk down the aisle." Sean's expression was mild, almost amused.

  The knot in Melinda's belly wobbled and then tightened up. This wasn't a joke. What was he thinking? She was not wife material. Her disaster of a marriage to Diego had proven that. Love was off limits

  "Take me back. I'll pack up my things and go home."

  Sean scowled. "What just happened here?"

  "Nothing. I'm being sensible and nipping this in the bud before you get your feelings hurt."

  Sean barked out a harsh sound that bore little relation to laughter. He pulled his keys from his pocket. "By all means, I'm the last man to push myself on a woman." He motioned grandly to the passenger side of the pickup.

  "Fine."

  A frosty silence cracked between them as they jostled over parking lot speed bumps and out onto the state highway. Melinda fought the urge to fold her arms tightly around her waist and settled for clenched fists in her lap.

  The golden lights of Wescott Springs faded in the rearview mirror and only the distant high-beam lights of an approaching vehicle glared in Melinda's eyes.

  She turned her face to the window and stared at the blurred, dark forms of trees and rocks as they rolled past. Why was she panicking? Why was it a big deal, a thing, that Sean said he might fall for her? Her nerves roiled, and uncertainty tripped every circuit in her brain.

  Yes, he was coming too close, and she was liking it. Too much. She didn't trust herself to let someone in so close to her heart again. Surely she owed him some sort of explanation, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as if she'd swallowed a bowl full of cotton balls.