by Karla Doyle
“I’ll get that,” she said, when the doorbell sounded again.
His arms closed around her, preventing her from moving. “Wait.”
“For what?”
He nodded upward, his gaze moving in the same direction. “That.”
She followed his sightline, to the mistletoe. Surely, he didn’t mean—
“And this.” Those two words in his rich tenor were the only warning she got before he sealed his lips against hers. As in, kissing. Kelly was kissing her.
And she was here for it. All hands on deck, no holds barred, here for it.
She twined her arms behind his neck and opened for him, meeting his tongue with hers when he took her parted lips as an invitation and dove right in.
His groan vibrated through her, lighting up every nerve ending between her mouth and her toes. Especially the ones in the middle. Those ones really liked Kelly’s hungry, rumbling sound.
“Addie,” he said, on an oxygen-required breath. Then his hands were in her hair as he kissed her senseless some more.
She gasped as he backed her up against the wall, owning her mouth. Running his hands up and down her body as if he needed to memorize every curve and dip by touch.
The doorbell rang again, startling her out of the kiss. “We should get that.”
He shook his head. Tipped her head to one side and placed a white-hot kiss in the sensitive spot below her ear. “The delivery guy will leave your order.”
“I’m not expecting a package.”
“You should be,” he said, chuckling as he rocked his hips forward, pressing his very hard package against her abdomen.
She needed that pressure lower. She pushed up to her tippy toes and wrapped one leg around his hamstrings. “I’m too short.”
“No, you’re just right.” Hands under her ass, he shifted her upward, until his bulging fly pressed against the notch between her legs. Then his mouth was on hers again, his tongue sliding between her lips in rhythm with his—
“Oh! Oh, my goodness. Steven, quickly, turn around and go.”
“What the?” Kelly’s head whipped sideways at the squeak of door hinges and the accompanying, too-familiar female voice. “Shit. Sorry,” he whispered, setting her on the ground before turning to face his parents. While shirtless, in late December. Nothing unusual about that.
“Hey, Mom. Dad. Aren’t you supposed to be in Florida?”
Hopefully, his mother wouldn’t look up at his moderately rumpled hair. Or down, at the front of his majorly tented jeans. Or at Addie, for that matter. Because, right now, she wanted nothing more than to go unnoticed.
To her credit, Kelly’s mom appeared to be working very hard to look only at her son’s face. His dad was currently staring up at the entryway’s ceiling. Total avoidance of the situation they’d walked in on, or taking an updated inventory of the work Kelly hadn’t done on their old house? Either option suited Addie, if it meant not having to look Mr. Horne in the eye.
“Darling,” Kelly’s mom said. “I’m so sorry we barged in on you while you’re…entertaining company.”
Kelly reached around and tugged Addie’s arm, drawing her out from her hiding place behind his nicely muscled, half-naked body.
“Oh, Adeline! I didn’t realize that was just you, erm…standing with Kelly.”
So much for going unnoticed. She gave his parents a fingertip wave while praying her sweater was on relatively straight. “Yup, just me. Standing with Kelly.”
He shot her a heavy-browed look.
She shot back with the widest eyes she could make. What on earth did he expect her to do? Set his mom straight? Tell the woman who’d opened her home to Adeline fourteen years ago that she hadn’t been “standing” with Kelly, she’d been deep-throating his tongue while receiving a wickedly good dry-humping against the wall?
Kelly pushed his fingers through his hair and sighed.
“Look at the two of you,” his mom said, smiling. “Having a conversation without saying a word, the way you always have. I’m so glad things haven’t changed.”
Kelly coughed to cover a grunted laugh.
“Darling, if you’ve got a cold, you really shouldn’t be walking around with your shirt off.” Helen Horne was either oblivious or in complete denial.
Now it was Addie’s turn to mask a laugh. Though, she wasn’t judging. She could only imagine the trauma of walking in on your offspring in the middle of a make-out session.
If Kelly’s mom wanted to pretend nothing had happened in the front hall a few minutes ago, then nothing had happened. Honestly, it was surreal. With each passing minute, she wondered if she were dreaming the whole thing. Subtly, she slid her hand beneath the opposite sleeve and pinched.
She winced at the streak of pain that shot up her arm.
Kelly looked over at her again, this time with a single eyebrow raised.
She gave him a sideways glance and shook her head.
Kelly’s mom might be in denial about what she’d witnessed, but she was one-hundred-percent accurate about their ability to wordlessly communicate.
“Take off your coats and come on in.” Kelly waved at them while backing out of the overpopulated entryway. “I’m going to grab my shirt.” He shot her a wink, once his parents were out of view. “Don’t want my cold to get worse.”
“Definitely not.” She tagged along behind him, enjoying the fine view of his broad, bare back while it lasted. Also, marveling at the fact that she’d been in the middle of climbing that mountain less than five minutes ago. Mistletoe for the win.
“Addie and I were getting ready to eat,” he said, collecting his t-shirt from the floor and tugging it over his head. “You guys are welcome to join us for dinner.”
She tucked her chin to her chest so his parents wouldn’t see her smile. Getting ready to eat. Ha. Eat each other, maybe. Probably. Yes, definitely probably. Thanks to the Hornes’ surprise visit, she’d never know for sure.
Moving to her side, Kelly nudged her elbow. “Right, Addie?”
Hint taken, she popped her head up, complete with an appropriately hostess-y smile. “Oh, yes. Please do. We’d love for you to stay. Tonight, or anytime. I don’t know what Kelly cooked, but I’m sure it’s amazing.”
“Nothing fancy. Lasagna-less lasagna. Apple-cinnamon cobbler for dessert.”
She jerked her head sideways, to his face and waiting gaze. “Those are my favorites.”
“That’s why I made them.” A fresh smile curved the lips that’d kissed her breathless. “Don’t want you to replace me as your personal cook.”
As if she ever could. Or would ever want to. God, she wished they had a minute alone.
“I’m sure it’s all wonderful, but we don’t want to intrude,” Helen said as she surveyed the adjoining dining room. “It looks like we caught you celebrating something.”
Addie followed the same path Helen’s gaze had taken. A red tablecloth covered the old harvest table. Two place settings awaited at one end, intimately arranged, rather than set up across from each other. Candles hadn’t been lit, but Kelly had put a bunch out, along with a box of wooden matches. A bottle of wine sat amongst the candles. He’d even set out two wine glasses—and he didn’t drink wine.
Her gaze shot to Kelly’s face. She couldn’t ask him about the romantic setting. Couldn’t apologize for not noticing it the first time she walked into the kitchen. It simply hadn’t occurred to her to look into the dining room they seldom used. She’d assumed they’d fill their plates and eat in the living room, as they usually did. Not in a million years would she have guessed he’d go to this effort for her.
“No celebration, just fancying things up.” Facing Kelly’s mom, Addie called up her chipper, just-your-son’s-best-friend smile. “Kelly knows how much I love Christmas.”
“I suppose he’d be hard pressed to forget, what with all your decorations strung throughout the house.” Helen didn’t share Addie’s extreme love of twinkling lights, baubles, and bells. Under her reign as w
oman of the house, there’d been an artificial Christmas tree, nothing else. Her gaze drifted toward the front of the house. “Such as that mistletoe in the front hall.”
“That’s my favorite decoration.” Kelly slung his arm around Addie’s shoulder and smiled down at her. “Wish I’d opened my eyes to it sooner.”
“It’s been hanging there for years,” she said.
“I know. Guess I was so used to seeing it there, I didn’t take the time to really look at it. Now that I have, I’m not going to take it for granted anymore.”
If she had a million dollars, she’d bet it all that Kelly was talking about more than her mistletoe ball. The weighty attention of their audience prevented her from answering the way she wanted to—which, at this moment, was to jump into his arms and kiss him until her lips went numb.
“So. Dinner?” he asked, saving her from degenerating into a drooling, stammering fool, right there, in front of his parents.
She nodded, her heart skipping a beat when he kissed her forehead before stepping away. Whatever this was, she wanted extra helpings.
“Mom? Dad? Was this a quick drop-in on your way to somewhere else, or should we add a couple of plates to the table?”
Let them say no, let them say no…
“We’d love to stay.”
Well, crap. “I’ll get the extra dishes.” Addie opened the overhead cupboard, using the momentary cover to take a much-needed breather. She just had to get through dinner, then she and Kelly could pick up where they’d left off. Girl-next-door smile pasted back into place, she closed the cupboard and carried the plates to the dining room.
Up close, the scene Kelly had set was even more romantic, making it that much more mindboggling. Her heart—and other eager parts—were all, “woohoo, get it, girl!” But her brain was still in “why?” mode. More to the point, why now?
He joined her at the table, placing the covered casserole dish on one of her flower-shaped trivets. “Wish I could do something to smooth out that little wrinkle at the top of your nose.” He stroked the spot and sighed. “Sorry about dinner.”
“Don’t be. The meal, the table, what happened in the front hall…” A wave of warmth flooded her cheeks. “It’s all incredible.”
“Glad you feel that way. I wasn’t sure when I set stuff up.” Him, unsure? About her? How could that even be possible?
She squinted as two banks of overhead lights illuminated the room.
“That’s better.” Hand still resting on the wall switches, Helen nodded. “I like to see what I’m eating. Don’t you?”
Kelly’s twinkling-eyed gaze locked with Addie’s. “I know I do.”
Her bottom lip nearly hit the floor. Her panties would’ve joined it, if not for their uninvited dinner guests.
He headed back to the kitchen, leaving her staring out the window, gape-mouthed, flabbergasted, and more than a little aroused. Something anyone looking at her through the window could see, now that the interrogation-worthy lights were on.
He scooped his mom into a hug, which he used to turn Helen in the opposite direction. “You never said why you’re in town, instead of at the Florida condo.”
“We were evacuated this morning. Tropical storm Mary wasn’t feeling very merry, I’m afraid. I’m sorry we didn’t call first…” Her gaze drifted to the front hall again. “There wasn’t much time before we locked up the condo, then we spent all day trying to get here.”
“What about the cell phone I got you?”
“Those things aren’t real phones,” his dad said, from across the room. Steven Horne was a man of few words—probably because his wife was a woman of so many—and most of what he did say came out as a grumble.
Helen flapped a hand at her husband. “It’s a real phone, Steven. That’s all the young people use now. Kelly got rid of our reliable home phone as soon as we moved out.”
And…another dig at the way the house had changed since their departure. These visits from Kelly’s parents were always a bit on the dramatic side. At least they didn’t last long.
“Anyway, darling, you know how technology-challenged we are.”
“I’m just glad you got out okay.” Kelly grabbed two more sets of cutlery, then pushed the drawer closed with his hip. “What’s your plan now? You can’t stay in the trailer, the park’s all locked up until spring. Are you going to get a room at The Fischer Hotel and wait for the all-clear to head south again?”
“We tried, but they don’t have any vacancies at The Fischer.”
The bells in Addie’s head weren’t festively jingling, they were blaring alarms.
Judging by the abrupt, steely snap to Kelly’s spine, he was hearing the same bells. “Simcoe has some good hotels. Did you check those?”
“No. When we couldn’t get a room at The Fischer, we came directly here.”
Kelly snapped his fingers. “Because of the cell phone thing, right. I’ll make some calls after we eat. I’m sure we’ll find you a nice room somewhere.”
Helen’s lips pursed up tighter than a you-know-what. “It sounds very much like you’re kicking your parents out of their own home.”
“Technically, it’s my home, since I bought it from you,” Kelly said, ducking into the fridge for a couple of beers—and cover from his mother’s narrowed, laser-beam glare.
Helen waited him out, even as he clinked around in there unnecessarily for a solid minute. The instant he closed the door, she hit him with her sad-mommy frown. “Kelly Edward Horne. I thought I raised you better than this.”
Defeat was imminent. As was any hope of privacy, or revisiting what’d happened under the mistletoe. Kelly was impervious to a lot of stuff that’d make other people crumble, but his mother’s usage of his full, given name was one of the few things on his kryptonite list.
“Or, you could stay here,” he said, with less enthusiasm than a wet noodle.
“Are you sure, darling?” It wasn’t enough to have gotten her way. Helen required her son to persuade her into accepting the forced offer. “I don’t expect we’ll be able to head south until after Christmas, and we’d hate to intrude on your holiday plans.”
Addie coughed to mask a sarcastic grunt. Then turned to the table, cracked open the wine and poured a tall glass. The first of many she’d need to get through the next nine days.
Chapter 5
December 16
KELLY
From the driver’s seat of his parked truck, Kelly watched Addie flip the “Open” sign hanging in her store’s front window to “Closed.” He could’ve texted her. Or called. Second-rate options, compared to being face-to-face. Or other body part to other body part, the endless combinations of which had monopolized his thoughts since their kiss last night. Who knows where it would have led, if his parents hadn’t barged in.
He couldn’t wait to find out. Hadn’t been this intrigued by the prospect of sex since he’d started having it.
But he wasn’t going to push for sex. The steady boil that kiss had sparked wasn’t about getting in and getting off. Addie wasn’t just another woman he wanted to get sweaty with. She was the woman he wanted to do everything with. Tonight, tomorrow, next year. Hell, maybe for the rest of his life.
He couldn’t screw this up. Wouldn’t screw it up. He also wouldn’t let some unnamed guy she’d bought a cock ring for get in his way.
The old-school bell above Sunny Daze’s heavy, wooden door chimed as he stepped into the store. “You should lock this thing so people don’t keep coming in.”
“Locks don’t always keep people out.” She smiled at him from behind the counter. “As we learned last night.”
“True. That was a hard lesson.”
The sound of her laughter was enough to get that hardness started again. He’d always liked hearing her laugh, but it hadn’t turned him on. Crazy how everything had changed.
He cut around a mostly empty table of poinsettias—currently, her boring moneymakers. She might sound negative when she called them that, but he got it.
He always preferred cooking The Horne Dog’s specialty burgers, rather than rolling yet another fast, plain hotdog across the grill. But those boring wieners paid the bills. He’d have to sell three Horne-Blower deluxe burgers to make the same amount of profit he earned from one footlong dog. Anybody who thought running your own business was nonstop creativity and excitement hadn’t tried their hand at being an entrepreneur.
“You’re a bit late to help with deliveries,” she said, when he joined her at the service desk.
“Did you need me today? I would’ve been here in a heartbeat if you’d texted me.”
“I know. You’re my best helper ever.” She gave him a sideways shoulder nudge. “And I’m not just saying that because you work for free.”
He leaned back, curling his fingers around the laminated edge of the counter. Had to hold on to something, or his hands would be on her, like they had been last night. Fuck, that’d been hot. Hotter than he’d imagined a fully clothed kiss could ever be. With any woman, let alone with his best friend.
Had she thought about it too? He didn’t see how she couldn’t have, but that was a guess.
They hadn’t had a solitary minute after his parents’ surprise arrival last night. His mom had stuck to them like glue until Addie waved goodnight to all of them, then disappeared into her room.
He’d spent the next hour fake-yawning. His performance had netted him a couple of lifestyle-improvement comments from his mother, but no offer to call it a night so that he could get some rest. By the time his parents had finally retreated to the spare bedroom—which had also received criticism—it had been too late to knock on Addie’s door. Or text her. Both of which he’d been sorely tempted to do anyway.
Today had been more of the same. Twelve hours’ worth, since his mom had woken before dawn, having “barely slept a wink in that horrible, small bed he’d shunted them into.” Her disgruntled demeanor had set the tone for the day. Good times.
“So, tell me.” Addie looked over at him between entries in her daily spreadsheet, a cheeky smile on her pretty face. “Did you have fun with your parents today?”
