"You must be tired, and it's time for you to go home. I need to find a ride into town."
She reached out her hand, grabbing mine, and pulling me back into my chair. "I'll take you."
"You don't have to—" I hesitated, but I really wanted a little more time with her.
"Don't be silly. I'm going into town anyway."
"Yeah?"
She nodded. "I, ah, just have to do a few things."
I released her hand regretfully. "Take your time." I grinned, pleased at the offer. "I'm not going anywhere."
She disappeared into the kitchen, my eyes following her movements, my head echoing with one small phrase I couldn't understand.
"Not without you."
"This is what you drive?" I gaped at the monster truck sitting in the last spot in the parking lot. "Can you see over the dashboard?"
Holly chuckled. "Yes. It was the one thing that came with us, everywhere we went. And one of the few things I have left of my parents. It's an old friend."
"Is it safe?" Old friend or not, it looked like it had seen better days.
She snorted. "Get in, fraidy cat."
I climbed in, and a few seconds later, Holly had the engine cranked up and the heater going. "It just takes a few minutes to warm up."
"Okay."
Our eyes met and held in the dim light coming from the dashboard. The cab got warm. Very warm. I swallowed nervously. Holly's bright eyes reflected the light as she stared at me, her gaze unsure. Slowly, I lifted my hand, grazing my fingers over her cheek. "You've been so kind to me all night, Holly. More than you know."
"I just helped you warm up," she whispered, searching my eyes with her own.
"Yes, you did that. But you talked to me and listened. You cared for me. That is so…special. I can't thank you enough."
"You're welcome."
Bravely, I slid closer, reaching over to stroke her round cheek again. "You truly are an angel to me."
"I've never been an angel to anyone."
I drew in a long breath, my fingers slipping into her hair. "Well, you're mine. My Angel."
Her eyes widened.
And then my mouth was on hers.
Warm, sweet, indulgent.
She wound her arms around my neck, clutching the back of my hair with tender fingers. When I slipped my tongue inside her mouth, the sound she made was erotic. I pulled her closer, my tongue stroking hers. I cupped the back of her head, holding her close. I never wanted to stop kissing her. It was only the bright lights of a car pulling in and reflecting in the rearview mirror that had us pulling apart, panting. My finger traced her bottom lip. "Should I apologize?"
"No."
"Can I do that again?"
"Yes," she breathed.
"Thank God," I whispered against her lips.
I had no idea how long I kissed her. I didn't know how I even got brave enough to kiss her in the first place, but now that I had, I didn't want to stop. Finally, though, she broke away, her breath warm on my cheek as she snuggled her head into my shoulder. I held her against me, enjoying the closeness.
"Evan?" Her voice was muffled against my chest.
I kissed her head. I liked how my name sounded on her lips. "Hmm?"
"Will you…will you come home with me?"
I tilted up her chin and studied her open gaze. No one had ever looked at me with so much emotion before. It was overwhelming. "God, Holly, I want to. I want to so much. Are you sure?"
"Yes."
I drew in a deep breath and kissed her again. "Take me there, then."
3
Evan
The house she lived in was small. There was the glow of a tiny light coming from the inside. I could see the silhouette of Holly's cat in the window, no doubt waiting for her to come home. Holly shut off the engine, and for a moment the truck cab was silent.
I swallowed hard, thinking she had changed her mind. We had been quiet the whole drive, but our hands were entwined on the seat between us. I stroked her silky skin with my thumb, occasionally lifting her hand to brush my lips over it, when the urge to do so became too strong to resist. Now, I tightened my grip. "I can walk to the motel from here, Holly. It's okay."
Her gaze flew to mine. "No! I…I just need you to know I don't do this. I don't bring men home with me."
"I don't do this either," I admitted. "It's been a long time for me, and I don't have what you might call a great deal of experience with women."
This time, she squeezed my hand. "I don't have a great deal of experience either."
Her honest words made me ridiculously happy.
"I, ah, wasn't really planning on, um," I stammered. "I don't have—" My voice trailed off in embarrassment.
Holly chuckled. "Connie keeps a stock of condoms on hand. I'm sure she won't mind if we borrow a few…or, um, more if needed."
More?
My smile couldn't be contained. Holly's answering smile was shy but heartwarming.
"I feel something between us. Something I've never felt before with you. Can you feel it?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Are you sure about this, Holly?"
She drew in a deep breath and opened her door. "Yes."
She led me into the dark house, flicking on another small lamp in the living room. I was surprised not to see any Christmas decorations or a tree. She was such a warm person—somehow, she seemed the type to surround herself with the season. Even I dragged home a small tree each year from the woods behind my house, and although my decorations left a lot to be desired, it was a nice thing to look at in the dark evenings when I was alone. I looked at her curiously. "No tree?"
She shrugged. "I work tomorrow, and then on Christmas Day, I’ll have dinner with Leslie and Tom later in the day. I don't exchange gifts with anyone anymore." She laughed, the sound more sad than happy. "Not that I ever really did. My parents never made a big deal about Christmas. They felt it was too commercial, so they didn't do very much. Occasionally, there was a small gift by my plate in the morning."
"Occasionally?"
"Sometimes, there was nothing. It depended on if they were working, how long we'd been living in the place we were in, that sort of thing." She paused. "Maybe one day, it will be different. But for now, it seems silly to do anything only for me."
I swallowed around the painful lump in my throat. For the first time since I met her, she sounded despondent. Resigned. Whereas Christmas for me growing up had been excessive in the worst form, with too many gifts simply for the sake of giving gifts, hers had been the exact opposite. It also sounded to me as if she was as ignored as I had been as a child. I hated that she knew that feeling. I also hated the fact that she didn't feel she was worth the effort to add some holiday joy into her life.
What was it about this woman that made me want to give her every single desire she ever had missed out on? I wanted to fill her small house with lights and tinsel and put a tree in the corner that was loaded with gifts. I wanted to watch her open them and see the delight on her face. I wanted to be the one who made her smile. I wanted to share in her joy. I blinked at the peculiar feeling; it was another emotion I had never experienced before.
A strange noise had me looking down to see a pair of green eyes gazing up at me. Long dark fur stuck out everywhere and a patch of white was centered on his forehead. Bending down, I stroked the softness. "You must be Chester." I was rewarded with a deep purr as the cat wound itself around my legs, then stretched up, allowing me to pick him up. Holly giggled, the sound so much better than her earlier, sadder sound.
"He must like you. He never lets people pick him up."
"Have you had him long?"
"No. I found him last winter outside the diner. I think someone had abandoned him. I brought him home to keep him safe for the night, but I couldn't bear the thought of taking him to a shelter. So, he stayed."
I smiled at her. Of course, he did. Her rescuing me tonight wasn't a first for her. I wondered if maybe she would let me stay as well. Th
e strange thought made me pause for a moment.
"He's so small."
She nodded, reaching over to scratch his head. "I think he had a hard life before I found him. He never grew very much." Then she giggled again. "He looks like you."
"What?" I chuckled.
"The green eyes and the white patch on his head. There is quite the resemblance."
I grinned. I had developed a white streak at the front of my hairline when I was young. My mother disliked it and had insisted on having it colored, but I stopped doing that as soon as I left home. "Your taste in strays is excellent."
"I only save the handsomest men."
I blinked at her. Handsome? She thought I was handsome?
"I'm a throwback," I blurted out.
"What?"
"I heard my mother tell someone once I was a throwback to my grandfather, whom my father didn't get on with. I looked exactly like him—right down to the white patch in my hair. I have his coloring and eyes too. She said it was probably why my father wasn't very fond of me."
Her eyes were wide. "Your mother said your own father wasn't fond of you?"
I shrugged. "It wasn't much of a secret."
"That is so…cold."
"I was never treated the same way as the other two." I paused. "I don't think any of them found me very handsome. I looked different, I wore glasses. The way I saw things, did things, was different." I laughed mirthlessly. "My entire family is opinionated, vocal. Far too much, in my opinion. I was always in the corner and quiet. I never fit in."
"You're a gentle soul."
"My father would say weak."
"Forgive me for saying this, Evan, but your father is an ass."
I couldn't help but laugh. She was so right about that.
Her voice became quiet. "They were wrong. About everything. You're wonderful—just the way you are."
"You think so? How can you be so sure?"
She shrugged. "I'm a good judge of character."
I set down the cat and stepped closer. "And you like my character, Holly? You think I'm handsome?"
She reached up and ran her fingers through my hair. "Yes. I like you. And yes, I think you're very handsome."
"All my family had light-colored hair and hazel eyes, like my parents. I have my grandfather's dark hair and green eyes, plus his white streak. Even physically, I was the odd one."
"You're not odd. You're Evan. You're perfect."
Her words were like a small shock running through my system.
Nobody had ever thought or told me I was perfect. I couldn't describe the feelings those words elicited.
I leaned into her touch as she continued to stroke my hair. The sensation was wonderful. No wonder the cat purred. If I could, I would as well.
"I'm not perfect. I'm far from it."
"Not as far as you've been led to believe. You look sad, the same way Chester did when I found him."
"I've been lost all my life," I whispered.
"So have I."
Her hand stilled. The air around us warmed again. Our eyes held, locked in a silent conversation.
Holly swallowed. "Do you want a drink, Evan?"
I shook my head.
"Something to eat?"
"No."
I pulled her closer.
"There is only one thing I want right now."
Her voice was hushed, almost shy. "What is it?"
"I want you, Angel."
And then her mouth was on mine.
I wasn't lost anymore.
There was no shyness between us. It felt as though I had known her forever. As though in some other life, we had experienced each other on this intimate level. It was as if I had found a missing part of me.
Holly's hands were so gentle; they touched me with such tenderness, I wanted to weep. The way she stroked my torso, played with my nipples, touched my face. Her mouth was talented and warm, her lips an artist’s brush that painted my body like a canvas with bold strokes and delicate arches. I groaned and hissed my pleasure as she explored me.
Nothing was rushed or hurried. There was no screaming or wild thrashing. There was only a deep, abiding passion between us I had never experienced with anyone else.
Slowly, sensually, we shed our clothes, kissing and touching as each new piece of skin was uncovered. Our voices murmured and encouraged, whispering adoration and sweet promises. I caressed her curves, loving how she felt under my touch—supple and perfect. Her skin was warm, silky, and tasted sweet under my tongue. I discovered all her secrets, her ticklish right side I teased mercilessly, the small scar on her thigh I kissed tenderly. I learned the dip of her waist. The rightness of her rounded hips. The beautiful fullness of her breasts. I thrilled at how she whimpered as I kissed the juncture at the base of her neck, teasing it with my tongue. Moaned when I sucked on her nipples.
Our mouths locked together, our bodies in flawless sync. Being buried inside her was nothing short of perfection. Her warmth grounded me, her sighs filled my head, and feeling her coming around my cock, as I moved and rocked above her, was ecstasy in itself. She held me close as I stilled, a low, heavy groan escaping my throat, my own orgasm so powerful, there was only one word I was able to utter, the most important one in the world at the moment.
Angel.
Wrapped up in her arms afterward was like coming home. She was so right curled around me. I had never experienced contentment before or this odd feeling of happiness. Both were foreign and both were abundant, coursing through my body and leaving me filled with wonder at all the emotions she seemed to bring out in me.
I looked down at Holly, the source of those strange feelings. Her cheeks were flushed in the dim light, her eyelashes resting on them as she relaxed against me. I could feel her stuttering breaths against my neck as her body softened. I knew my breathing was still erratic. Slowly, we relaxed and calmed, still wrapped around each other. I nuzzled the top of her head, smiling as she tilted back her head, looking shy as she gazed up at me.
"Hi."
I kissed her full mouth. "Hi," I whispered against her lips.
"That was—" She bit her lip. "Wow." She grinned.
Now it was my turn to feel shy. I knew I wasn't the most experienced lover. It had certainly been the most intense experience I’d ever had. "Yeah? It was, ah, good for you?"
She pursed her lips. "Well, now that you mention it—"
"Um," I stammered.
She pressed closer, flinging her leg over my hip and cupping my ass. "Maybe we should try again, just to be sure?"
A slow grin broke out on my face. "To be sure of…?"
"That it was as beautiful as I think it was."
My heart soared. I rolled, hovering over her, already hardening and wanting her. "Yes. We need to make sure of that."
4
Evan
My cell phone rang from Holly's bedside table the next morning. She'd plugged it in for me the night before so Tom could reach me. I blinked in the bright morning light. We'd been up most of the brief night, only dozing, talking, and sharing long, lingering kisses. We'd made love again, and even now as I watched her lean over to grab the phone, I could feel myself stirring with desire for her. She handed me the phone, and I cupped her head, bringing her close for another kiss before answering it.
Tom's booming voice told me he found the problem and, luckily, was able to get the parts he needed. My car would be ready by noon. I thanked him and hung up, feeling an odd pull in my chest. I should be grateful I could get back on the road today, yet I felt only sadness that I would be able to leave in a few hours.
Holly kissed me, her voice quiet. "What time?"
"Noon."
"I can drop you there before I go to work."
"What time do you work until?"
"Only six today. The diner closes early since it’s Christmas Eve."
"Holly—" I wanted to say something. What, I had no idea, but something.
She shook her head, her voice beseeching. "Don't."
> My head fell back on the pillow, my eyes shutting against the burn I felt behind them. I pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair. She smelled like sun and flowers. Lovely. "I have so much to say."
"This was a stop in your life, Evan. A detour. Maybe one you needed, to be able to find your life. But you have to keep going. I don't expect anything." Her voice lowered. "Last night was so wonderful. I’ll treasure it and the thought of you always. I'm glad you found my diner."
I swallowed. I was more than glad I’d found her diner. And her. She was an unexpected gift in my life. Perhaps the greatest I would ever receive.
"Tell me about your life, your friends," she whispered. "Don't tell me goodbye yet."
I tightened my hold and did what she asked. I told her about Dan and Carol. Andrew and Tara. How they had drawn me into their world, showing me what a real family was like. Loving. Caring. Supportive. Not judgmental and cold.
“I’m glad you found them.”
I chuckled. “Carol found me, actually. And she refused to let me stay in my shell. It was as if she saw what I needed and was determined to give it to me, whether I knew I wanted it or not.”
I described my house as best I could, telling her about the renovations I had made and the huge porch I had added on to the front.
“The sunsets, Holly. They’re breathtaking and remind me every day how much I love living there. I make a point of sitting on the porch and watching them. I feel a sense of peace.”
“It sounds beautiful. Maybe one day, I’ll go there.”
I had to bite my lip to stop myself from telling her I wanted her to come and be with me there—that I wanted her to see the sunsets with me every day. I knew it was only the emotion of this trip causing me to feel that way. Instead, I hummed. “You could sketch and paint something new every day.”
I made her chuckle with some stories of restoration disasters—glued hair and throbbing thumbs from miscalculated blows of my tools. She told me funny stories of the diner and of growing up, as she put it, like a gypsy.
An Unexpected Gift (Insta-Spark Book 4) Page 3
