A Broken Christmas
Page 14
Fear skittered down her spine and she hesitantly asked, “Did she tell you the rest?”
At the dangerous uplift of his eyebrow, Aimee knew the answer. Mentally, she cringed.
“The rest?”
Doing her best to draw attention away from her equally poor decision to take away his choices, she decided compiling everything into one confession might be the best chance she had to avoid striking his anger. “When I went in to have my IUD removed, I spent a long time talking to the doctor. He thinks I have an incompetent cervix. But he also thinks bed rest would prevent another miscarriage. Studies I’ve read back that up. There’s also stitches they can put in, but the jury’s still out on whether that’s smart or not.”
He gave her one, long, slow blink. And in that moment, Aimee knew his mind was still on the first sentence—when she’d had her IUD removed.
“Wait. You did what?”
Aimee groaned aloud. “Don’t be mad, please. I didn’t even think about it before the hallway. By then—”
Kyle’s mouth landed on hers, hard and heavy. At the back of her neck, his fingers tightened against her scalp, holding her still while he thoroughly kissed her. She reveled in the velvety stroke of his tongue, the fierce possession of her mouth. Buried emotion rose from some place deep, pouring out through him and speaking to her heart until she understood he didn’t know the words.
His fingers softened as his lips eased away. Barely a flutter against mouth, he asked, “You could be pregnant now?”
Chuckling, Aimee nodded. “After last night, I’d say odds are fairly high.”
He blew out a hard breath, raked his hand through his hair. “Well. That’s one way to throw a man straight into his fears.” Though his words held a touch of scolding, the grin that brightened his face told a different story. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a bit of gold that glinted in the dim sunlight. Holding it between thumb and forefinger, Kyle brought his wedding band between their bodies. “You know you have to marry me now, right?”
Aimee’s mouth quirked. “No. I don’t have to marry you. I have a good job offer.”
All of the teasing humor drained out of Kyle’s face as he caught her hand and squeezed it tight. “Will you? I’m a bit broken, but will you take me back and be my wife again?”
She closed her fingers over his ring, plucking it from between his. Smiling, she pushed it onto his hand. “I guess we’ll have to heal together.”
A short burst of laughter broke from Kyle’s chest as he gathered her into his arms and pulled her atop his lap. Slowly, thoroughly, he kissed her. As she looped her arms around his neck and surrendered to the warmth he stirred in her blood, his hands slid down her back, over her waist, and gave her bottom a squeeze. He broke the kiss and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.
“Your jeans are wet. Let’s get you home.”
Aimee slid off his lap onto her feet. She extended her hand for his. Kyle looked at it for a moment, as if debating whether to accept her offered aid or not. Then his green eyes caught hers and he slid his palm into her fingers. His weight made her wobble, but using her legs, she braced to give him leverage until he was standing beside her. As she turned to lead him through the woods, he pulled her back around.
“I love you, Aimee Garland,” he whispered with a smile.
“I love you too.”
Falling into step beside him, she leaned her head on his shoulder for the briefest of moments before he stumbled, then she slipped her arm around his waist. Linked side-by-side, they headed for the house.
“You think we can salvage my turkey?” she asked on a laugh.
“Mom said she’d try.”
Surprise smacked into Aimee. “They’re still there?”
Sharing her laughter, Kyle nodded. “Charred turkey, burned-out stars, friends at each other’s throats—Merry Christmas, honey.”
Aimee smiled. Merry Christmas indeed. She couldn’t think of any other gift she’d rather have.
A word about the author...
Claire Ashgrove has been writing since her early teens and maintained the hobby for twenty years before deciding to leap into the professional world. Her first contemporary novel, Seduction's Stakes, sold to The Wild Rose Press in 2008, where she continues to write steamy, sexy stories for the Champagne line. Adding to these critically acclaimed contemporaries, Claire’s paranormal romance series about the Immortal Knights Templar will debut with Tor in January 2012. For those who prefer the more erotic side of romance, she also writes for Berkley Heat under the pen name Tori St. Claire.
Claire lives on a small farm in Missouri with her two toddler sons, fifteen horses, four cats, and five dogs. In her “free” time, she enjoys cooking, winning at rummy, studying ancient civilizations, and spending quiet moments with her family, including the critters. She credits her success to her family's constant support and endless patience.
To learn more about Claire,
visit her on the web at
www.claireashgrove.com,
or
www.toristclaire.com,
and at the Cascade Literary Agency blog site
http://cascadeliteraryagency.blogspot.com
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