PERFECT

by Autumn Jordon

  “All I’m saying is if you love Darcy, it doesn’t matter where you live or what you do for a living. This farm shouldn’t be the deciding factor.” He unzipped his coat, apparently getting warm too. “I’ll make it easy for you. Your mother and I will buy it back from you, or we’ll rent it from you. That will give you time to decide where you want to live.”

  “What about the girls?”

  “What about them? Bob and Elizabeth will be coming home safely, son, and when they do they’ll be a family again. If you decide to follow Darcy before then, your mother and I will stay with them.”

  His father was completely serious. He stared at the house. His father thought he was making it easy for him, but how could he give up everything for a woman he hardly knew, one who agreed to be only friends and nothing more?

  “I’m going to get those papers.” His father pushed the door open and cold, fresh air spilled into the cab. “I’ll take a walk through the house, if you want to stay here.”

  Dylan heard the door close, but he was so deep in thought he didn’t move. Darcy had made it clear she had every intention of leaving right after the holidays. She’d mentioned she’d been working on new plans for her restaurant’s remodel and wanted to include some of his works in the décor. He’d heard her on her cell phone with her contractor and her lawyer. She’d mentioned the number of days until she left here while talked to Mrs. Farber last night. And more than once she said she couldn’t wait to get someplace warm. To him, all those tidbits added up to the fact that Darcy couldn’t wait to leave Black Moose Mountain and leave him behind.

  They were just friends and nothing more.

  Chapter Nine

  Dylan insisted on picking her up. The weather man on the local T.V. station predicted a good possibility of heavier snowfall tonight, up to six inches. Dylan said it was excellent news for the ski industry, but for her to drive to Tom’s alone after she’d stayed with the girls while he worked, not so good. According to the Vermont mountain man, Dixie girls didn’t do snow very well.

  At the blare of his vehicle’s horn, her heart leaped in her chest. She shrugged into her coat and hefted the box of ingredients she’d bought today at the general store off the kitchen counter. Balancing the load on her knee, she turned the front doorknob and then struggled to urge the door open with her foot.

  Dylan jogged up the sidewalk. He met her at the porch steps and immediately eased her of the burden. “What’s in here? You know I do have a kitchen sink.”

  “Funny. Cookie makings.” Swiping her hair from her eyes, she reached back and locked Tom’s front door.

  “It looks like you have enough stuff to make cookies for an army,” he said over his shoulder as he started down the shoveled path.

  The snow that had fallen during the early morning hours still clung to the tree limbs regardless of the sun’s best attempt to peek though the clouds and melt off the fluff.

  “Only about a hundred dozen.”

  With his mouth gaped, Dylan turned around, drawing her up short. “One hundred dozen?”

  “Ah huh.” She grinned and sidestepped him. Humming “Have A Holly Jolly Christmas,” her steps were skip-like all the way to the back of the vehicle where she unlatched the back hatch of the Trailblazer.

  “Hi, Aunt Darcy,” was the greeting she received when she opened the door. Secure in their booster seats, Jillian and Katy waved from the backseat. She liked that the girls had taken to calling her Aunt Darcy.

  “What are you two doing here?”

  “We were helping Uncle Dylan deliver straw bales to the church,” Jillian said, repositioning her knitted cap.

  “I carried the pieces that fell.” Katy ripped off her cap and pushed her blond curls from her eyes.

  Darcy laughed. “Well, pieces are important. You can’t have anything without them.”

  “Yup, they were a big help. That’s one more thing crossed off my to-do list.” Dylan slid the box inside and turned to her. “Now, about that hundred dozen cookies. I don’t think we can eat that many.”

  “No, but the village of Black Moose can.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Lilac told me Elizabeth always baked cookies for the carolers.” She went up on her toes and with her hands on his shoulders, whispered in his ear. “And, as Santa, you need something to hand out at the church on Sunday.” She dropped back to her heels. “You said you were going to be late tonight, so I thought after the girls were tucked into bed, I’d help out by making some special Santa cookies.”

  He closed the hatch and looked down at her. “You don’t have to do that. I was going to buy maple candy from Mrs. Whoseher or make a run down the mountain sometime before Sunday and find something. Oranges, maybe.”

  “I know I don’t have to bake them. I want to.” She smiled up at him. “Please let me help you. You have so much going on and well—”

  “I know you’re bored out of your mind on this mountain.” He frowned.

  “If I didn’t have this to do, I probably would be. It’s not like this is my home and I have a million things to do to prepare for Christmas. Or work.”

  “What about the plans you were working on for Sweet Water?” He jerked his chin toward Tom’s house.

  “They can wait. I have plenty of time to finish them up after the holiday—when I get back home next week.”

  “Right. I appreciate that you want to help me, but you don’t have to.” He pulled back his sleeve. “We better get going. It’s four-ten and I have to be on the mountain by five.”

  As Darcy climbed into the cab next to Dylan, she noticed his jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed into a thin line. During the ten-minute drive to Bob’s house, he spoke not a word directly to her and only answered the girls’ questions with a few clipped words. Had she over-stepped her bounds in assuming he’d be okay with her making cookies for the whole community?

  When they arrived at the house the girls ran off to where Gray was chopping kindling in the backyard. She waited until they were out of earshot before turning on Dylan, cornering him by the back of the truck. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  He reached into the bed and slid the box forward. “Look, we sat the rules together, agreed to them and it’s my problem, not yours.”

  What was he talking about? Her brow pulled together. What rules had they set concerning cookies? “I don’t understand.”

  He sat the box down again and exhaled. “I get it. Next week you’ll be gone. You don’t have to keep bringing Sweet Grass or South Carolina up at every opportunity.”

  “Ah…” She pointed a gloved finger at him. “You’re the one who mentioned Sweet Grass. Not me.”

  He hosted the box against his chest. “Either way, you’re going home in a week and I am staying here.”

  Her eyes widened, realizing of what he spoke. “Oh, that rule.”

  His eyes narrowed into dark slits. “What did you think I was talking about?”

  “Cookies.”

  “What?” He shook his head and a dark strand of hair fell forward over his brow. “No. Bake the damn cookies if you want.”

  “I will.” She folded her arms across her chest. Then she tilted her head to the side and gave him a demure smile. “You’re thinking that our friendship pact was a fool’s quest.”

  “Yes. No.” He sat the box down again and combed a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end like a rooster’s tail. Turmoil played across his face. “I don’t know.”

  He stared down at her, pleading.

  Could it really be that he felt the same way she did?

  Somehow, as much as she tried not to, over the last few days she’d begun to fall hard for Dylan.

  “You know what I think?” She stepped closer to him and angled her head back to meet his gaze.

  “What?” His Adam’s apple dipped below his turtleneck.

  “I think we should toss our friendship rule out the window and take our chances.”

  “You really t
hink that’s wise?” His eyes searched hers.

  “I don’t know. What I do know is, I don’t want to look back later and wonder what might have been.”

  He pushed a strand of her hair back from her face and traced a finger along her jaw, but it was his words that sent a jolt to her heart. “I think I’m falling for you, Darcy.”

  The next few days went by as if Darcy was free falling in a tailspin. Thursday night after Dylan arrived home, they’d climbed the flight of stairs to the attic. He found the red Santa suit right where Elizabeth had told him she had it stored. What his sister-in-law had failed to mentioned was that a forest green Mrs. Santa dress hung next to it. Lilac jumped on that opportunity and urged Darcy to wear the outfit, stating the color would be perfect on her, and she’d be able to help Dylan with the children at the Sunday school event.

  She always loved dressing up for Halloween as a child and thought why the hell not? It would be fun.

  Friday afternoon, after the roads were cleared, she met Allison at the library and they had a girl’s afternoon together, getting to know each other better. Darcy decided she couldn’t be here for Christmas and not have gifts for the friends she’d made, so the pair drove to the closest mall which was some forty miles away and spent hours shopping and chatting. By the time they’d arrived home at five-thirty, she barely had enough time to lug all her packages upstairs and change before Dylan and the girls picked her up for dinner and to enjoy the Christmas splendor of Black Moose.

  She had a ball helping the girls pick out gifts for their Uncle Dylan and grandparents at the general store which was open for special holiday shopping hours. She suspected they also bought gifts for her too, because she wasn’t allowed near the checkout counter while they paid for their purchases.

  Later, as they stood under the stars, listening to the carolers, Dylan took her hand in his and her heart did a back flip when he smiled down at her. The magic sizzling between them lasted for about five point two seconds, because at that moment, the sheep in the live nativity scene in the central park decided to make a run for it. A large crowd circled the park’s perimeter as a dozen men and many more boys raced after the wooly critters through the park, slipping and sliding, falling on their behinds.

  Darcy held her sides, laughing, as Dylan raced after and dived for a lamb. He missed and slid on his belly a good ten feet before stopping next to the makeshift stable. It took a good half-hour to get the situation under control, but the laughs lasted throughout the holiday week whenever someone brought up the episode or a nativity scene came into view.

  Saturday was a picture-perfect day. Every Christmas tree Darcy ever had, had been purchased and most of them had been plastic, sprayed with a pine scent. She’d never climbed on the back of a horse-drawn wagon and ridden out into the forest to find a perfect tree. She never knew there were so many types of evergreens. Dylan gave her a crash lesson and before long she could identify Blue Spruce, Douglas Firs, Fraser Firs and Scotch Pines.

  The girls found a bird’s nest in a nine-foot Fraser. A tree harboring a bird’s nest, she was told, brought good luck to the home it entered, so that tree was deemed the ideal Kincaid Christmas Tree, despite the fact that one side was pretty sparse. Darcy knew what everyone hoped without it being said—that luck would indeed be sprinkled on the family and that Elizabeth and Bob would be safe and home soon.

  On Saturday afternoon, with the tree drying its branches on the back porch, Dylan, the girls and Darcy headed off to the slopes. She’d never been to a ski lodge and was actually impressed with the luxury provided to the patrons. They had a late lunch in the restaurant. When the lodge owner stopped by their table, Dylan let it slip that she was a chef. That news brought up a long conversation, ending with an offer to join his staff. The offer made her think maybe, just maybe, she could have a life here. There were career opportunities, and she was falling in love with the small-town atmosphere. The cold was something she’d have to get used to, but it would make her appreciate summer, something she didn’t do living in the humidity of the South. And she’d have Dylan to keep her warm. That thought made her blood rush more than the free fall down the mountainside on an oversized snow tube.

  Chapter Ten

  A feeling of peace he hadn’t felt in months made Dylan smile. Everything was falling into place for Christmas. The house was decorated, thanks to Darcy. The tree was up and looked amazing, even though mother had to add a few tie-dyed ornaments. Again, thanks to Darcy. Tomorrow, playing Santa was the last community obligation he had to fulfill and he was prepared with a ton of cookies. Thanks to Darcy. And she’d be by his side as Mrs. Santa.

  Somehow, Darcy by his side just felt right.

  He sat back on his heels and blinked. He was in love with her. How in the hell was he ever going to let her go?

  Striking a match and setting it to paper, the kindling in the fireplace came to life with a loud crackle. “There we go,” he said, brushing his hands and standing.

  “I love a fire.” Darcy sat behind him. She looked so damn beautiful curled up on the couch with her stocking feet tucked under her and clenching a warm goblet of mulled wine. “They make a home cozy. Do you have a fireplace at your house?”

  “I don’t think there is a home in New England that doesn’t have a fireplace or two. It’s sort of a necessity.”

  “You know you haven’t shown me your home or your art yet.”

  He placed a bigger log on the fire and positioned the fire screen in front of the hearth. “Maybe tomorrow, after church. Mom and Dad can sit with the kids for a while. I need to wrap presents anyway. Maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me?”

  “Of course.” She took a sip of her wine before setting the glass down on the coffee table. “How long will your parents be out tonight?”

  The flames highlighted the many hues in her long, thick locks. He stretched his fingers along the side seams of his jeans, longing to feel her silky strands between them. “If their card game gets going, it could be after midnight before they get home.” He glanced at his watch. “That’s about two and half hours.”

  “Not enough, but...” She unwound the scarf around her neck and let it drop to the floor.

  His pulse raced to an alarming rate when her slim fingers slowly traced a line along the graceful length of her neck and down the edge of the V neckline of her sweater where her flushed skin was exposed. He saw the rise of her plump breasts against the soft green woven threads. Oh, how he wanted to cup them and make her want him.

  “Why? What do you have in mind?” His heart stalled, waiting for the answer he’d needed to hear so badly.

  “Remember our first kiss?” She patted the couch next to her and relaxed against the cushion.

  Desire flashed in her green eyes.

  Dylan’s blood heated and coursed through his veins, heading south of his belt like a runaway steam engine. “I remember.”

  He crossed the distance between them and slid onto the couch. Wrapping an arm around Darcy, he tucked his body close to hers. When she tilted her head up to him, he captured her sweet mouth.

  Her fingers combed through his hair, tingling his scalp, and held his head captive. She opened up to him and their tongues danced.

  He felt each heated breath she took under his hand.

  She moaned and pressed her breasts against him, urging him closer.

  Wanting more of this beautiful woman, he broke their kiss and lifted her from the corner. She apparently understood his intentions and straddled his lap.

  He found his way under her sweater and his rough palm was met with skin so soft and warm he couldn’t get enough of the feel of it.

  Darcy’s bra gave way with a snap. With one hand splayed across her back, he held her in place, while with the other he fondling her breast, working her nipple into a hard peak.

  Her whimper against his mouth fueled his desire and he increased the pressure on her taunt nub.

  She wiggled against his hard ridge. It had been months since he’d been
with a woman, a girl from a neighboring town who he’d dated for a few months. If Darcy didn’t stop her movement, things would happen before they should. Breathless, he grabbed her hips and stilled her motion.

  “What wrong?” She said between nibbles of his bottom lip and chin. “Are you worried about the girls waking up?” She pulled him down for another kiss and was stopped by the chime of the doorbell.

  Their gazes locked.

  “Damn.” Dylan cranked his neck toward the foyer. “Who the hell could be here now? It’s kind of late for a visit.”

  “Do you think it’s your parents, giving us warning?” Darcy scrambled off his lap, reaching back under her sweater to hook her bra. Her flushed face reflected the sexual excitement he felt.

  He stood, combed his hair with his fingers, and straightened his own clothes. “I doubt that. They’d love to find us… You know.”

  She righted her sweater and smoothed her hands over her face and then over her hair which definitely had a sexy, tousled appearance.

  Wanting to curse out whoever stood on the other side of the door, he stalked from living room and flung it open.

  “Surprise!”

  Dylan blinked at the pair of happy faces, staring back at him. “Mr. and Mrs. Baker.” Crap. Just what he needed. Elizabeth’s parents. He plastered on a fake smile. “What are you doing here?”

  “We decided that the girls needed us,” Cybil Baker said, clutching an overnight bag, which was definitely not a good sign. “With Elizabeth and Bob gone we thought Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas for them without family around.”

  What was he? He inhaled a deep breath and reminded himself that these people were Elizabeth’s parents. Relatives by marriage. Relatives.

  “We hopped a ride with a friend who was flying into Boston on his private jet and then drove up from there. It sure is cold.” A round Eric Baker invaded Dylan’s private space, causing him to step back. Now in the foyer, the shorter man surveyed the hall leading to the kitchen and clapped his calf-skinned leather hands loudly. “Where are the girls?”