The Christmas Wedding Ring (Hqn)

by Susan Mallery

  He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her she was a beautiful swan, but he sensed she wouldn’t believe him. He also wanted to tell her that he liked her curves. There was something very welcoming about her body, a womanly essence that drew him.

  “But you,” she said. “You were gorgeous.”

  “That’s a little strong.”

  “Not at all. I remember the first time I saw you drive up on your motorcycle. You wore a black leather jacket. I thought I was going to die right there in the living room. I thought my mother was going to have a fit, but that’s another story.” She shifted, straightening her legs and leaning back on her elbows. “It’s interesting. Some people peak in high school, but most of us get better with age. You seem to be doing as well now as you were then.”

  “If that’s a compliment, then thank you,” he said. “I would like to think I’m a lot smarter. Some of the things that mattered to me then don’t matter now.”

  “Like what?”

  He grinned. “I’m less concerned about how fast I can get my date into bed. I’ve learned that waiting really does make it better. I would like to think my best years are still ahead of me.”

  “I hope I can say the same about myself.”

  Molly sounded relaxed as she spoke, but Dylan sensed the tension in her body. Her jaw was tight and her smile had a forced quality.

  He almost asked. He opened his mouth and started to form the words, but he couldn’t. Not only because he didn’t want to pry, but because he was suddenly afraid. Not of Molly, but of her secret. So he returned to a topic guaranteed to distract them both.

  “Tell me more about your crush on me,” he said.

  She laughed and the tension faded. “What would you like to know?”

  “Everything. Start at the beginning and talk slowly. Did you keep a diary, recording every conversation? Did you go around the house after I’d been there and pick up a used napkin or a piece of a cookie I’d left behind? Did you try to cut off a lock of my hair?”

  She stared at him. “I had a crush, I wasn’t looking to put a curse on you. Jeez. None of that. I guess I was doing the crush thing all wrong.”

  He pretended disappointment. “Not even one little curl?”

  “No. I did other things. I hung around when you came to pick up Janet.”

  He thought about those days so very long ago. “I remember that. We used to talk.”

  “Exactly.”

  She looked out toward the ocean. He turned his gaze in that direction and saw that the sun was close to the horizon. The sky was alive with color. Pinks, yellows, orange. The water was dark and mysterious.

  “Janet was always late getting ready,” Molly said. “I liked that about my sister. Back then, that was about all I did like about her. I used to spend part of the day thinking up witty things to say to you. Or I’d go to the library, read joke books and memorize them.”

  “You didn’t.”

  She nodded. “Pretty humiliating, huh?”

  “Not at all.” He wouldn’t admit it for the world, but he liked that she’d gone to all that trouble.

  “I had this fantasy,” she said. “I used to tell myself that one day I was going to get you to realize Janet was a complete loser and make you fall in love with me, instead. We would run off together.” She wrinkled her nose. “I could never figure out where. College was important to me, but I wasn’t sure you’d want me to go. That was a logistical problem I couldn’t quite work out.”

  “I would have supported your schooling.”

  “Really?” She laughed. “If only I’d known that back then, I would have tried harder.”

  What would it have been like? he wondered. If he’d fallen for Molly instead of her sister. He shook his head. It wouldn’t have happened. Molly had been too young, although the age difference wasn’t an issue today. And she’d been right about improving with the passing years. She was an attractive woman now, but she had been an ugly duckling back then. At twenty, that sort of thing had still mattered to him.

  She stared at the sunset, but her expression told him that she was actually seeing the past. “It wasn’t just the black leather jacket or your good looks,” she said. “I liked how you always took the time to be nice to me. I knew you were smart, too. Mother kept telling Janet you weren’t going to amount to much, but I thought you had a lot of potential. I’m glad I was right. Despite the motorcycle and the attitude, you weren’t just a typical bad boy.”

  He was surprised she’d seen past the facade. Surprised and pleased. “I appreciate the confidence you had in me.”

  “Sometimes I think teenage affections are the most honest. At least for that microsecond while they exist. For the most part, they’re pretty fickle.”

  Had hers been? He wondered, but he didn’t ask. He would like to think that she’d hung on to at least a hint of what she’d felt. Not likely, he told himself. Wishing didn’t make it so. Nevertheless, it was nice to think that at one time he’d mattered to her. Not that it cleared up their present situation. He still didn’t know what was going on between them. He didn’t have a clue how she felt. As for his feelings, the only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted her. Telling himself he preferred flash to substance didn’t seem to be helping.

  He stretched out on his elbows, mimicking her posture. “I’m glad you came looking for me,” he told her. “I’m having a great time.”

  “Me, too.” She hesitated. “I’d like it if we could stay friends.”

  Her cheeks darkened with color. He liked that he made her a little nervous, almost as much as he liked that she didn’t want to lose touch with him. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  He’d never chosen well when it came to women, but he knew he’d made the right decision with Molly. Even if it was just friendship, she was someone he could be proud to have in his life. Still, when she rolled toward him and gave him that sweet smile of hers, he found it hard to remember that their goal was to just be friends. He found himself wanting to brush his fingers against her cheek, maybe outline her mouth. It was against the rules and it would mess up everything, but damn, she was hard to resist.

  Speaking of which... He sat up straight and shifted so she wouldn’t be able to see the physical manifestation of his thoughts. So much for being subtle.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked. “You’ve gotten quiet.”

  He focused his attention on the last rays of sunlight. “I’m fine. Just thinking about things.”

  “Like?”

  He thought of a couple dozen vaguely humorous comebacks. A quip about how short the days were in December. Or something about wanting to try parasailing. But in the end he couldn’t lie to her. He also couldn’t tell her exactly what he’d been thinking. Instead, he decided to show her.

  He rolled onto one hip, braced himself on his elbow and leaned toward her. He didn’t actually touch her, but he moved slowly, giving her plenty of cues about his intentions, wanting her to have the time and room to pull back if she needed to. But she didn’t. She stayed exactly in place, her hazel brown eyes getting bigger and bigger until they were all he saw. Then, right before his lips touched her, he closed his eyes so he could feel what was happening between them.

  She was as sweet and warm as he remembered. Her lips yielded to him, as if they, too, felt the homecoming. He pressed his mouth against hers, then parted slightly. When she followed his lead, a small sound escaped from deep in her throat. Half moan, half cry. Of pleasure? Of shock? Did she welcome him or want to run?

  Even though he ached to take her in his arms, he hesitated, still wanting to give her time to change her mind. Then she did the most amazing thing. She shifted so she was on her side, facing him. She placed her hand on his cheek. With a muffled groan of his own, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him.

  Molly he
ard as well as felt Dylan’s rumble. His chest vibrated with the sound and she was torn between the wonder of him kissing her and the urge to shout with the joy of it all. She hadn’t done anything to get him to kiss her. He’d started it all on his own. Surely a man like him wouldn’t provide mercy kisses more than once. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted her.

  Wanting her even a little would be enough, she told herself as she melted against him. He was so strong. The powerful length of his legs, the breadth of his chest. Now he pulled her so that she lay partially across him. Her hip was against his belly. Close, but not close enough to know if he was as aroused as she was.

  Then his tongue touched her lower lip and nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but the feel of him against her. The moist heat, the pleasure he stirred. He didn’t attack her. Instead he entered gently, teasing her, circling her tongue with his. He explored her mouth, finding places that made her gasp, then whimper with delight. He retreated and she followed, discovering him, feeling the passion flaring between them.

  In the back of her mind, she was aware that they were on the beach and it wasn’t dark yet. When she’d last glanced around, they’d been alone. She wondered if they still were. Not that it mattered. Dylan wouldn’t take this any further. Not only because they were on a public beach but also because he wasn’t interested in her that way. Still, this was enough.

  He broke away from her mouth and kissed a damp trail along her jaw, then spent several minutes by her ear. After making her shiver and whisper his name, he moved her hair and nibbled along her nape. She thought she might die right then and there. It would be, she told herself, the perfect way to go.

  While one hand held her hair away from her neck, the other traced a line from her shoulder down her back to her hip. From here, he cupped her rear. He squeezed the full curve. Molly had never been pleased with her generous build, but when Dylan was touching her, she didn’t really care about anything but how he made her feel.

  She arched against him, urging him to continue, wanting more. Wanting everything. She moved her hands up and down his back, reveling in the feel of his muscles bunching and releasing. It didn’t matter why he was doing this. It didn’t matter that this was a huge mistake. So what if they weren’t a couple and this wasn’t going to end with them in bed together—it was lovely, and that was enough. She deserved a little time off from the trauma that was her life.

  “Molly.” He whispered her name like a prayer. “I want you.”

  The words were magic—an incantation designed to melt the last of her reserves.

  She pulled back a little and stared at him. “Really?”

  He chuckled, a gasping sound that held a hint of pain. “What did you think? Don’t give me that mercy kiss stuff again. You can’t believe that.”

  “No,” she said, not sure what she believed.

  He swore under his breath. “I’m making out with you like a teenager, right in the middle of the beach. If that’s not carried away, you need to tell me what is.”

  She smiled and touched his lower lip. The skin was damp from their kisses. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks expected or wanted.”

  He squeezed the back of her neck and drew her close. As his mouth moved against hers, he shifted so that she was nearly lying on top of him. Her leg slipped between his. That’s when she felt it. His arousal pressed against the top of her thigh.

  She’d hoped, she’d wanted, but she hadn’t been sure. Without stopping to think, she brought her hand down and laid her palm against him. Through the layer of his jeans, she felt him jump. His breath hissed through his teeth.

  He deepened their kiss. He angled his head so he could go deeper. The passion grew. Her hips arched toward him. She could feel herself swelling to accept him. She was already wet. His hand moved from her hip to her waist, then up to her breast. Her nipples were hard. She could feel them pressing against the confines of her cotton sports bra. She ached for him to touch her there, even as she dreaded it.

  His hand closed over her right breast. She froze. He moved his fingers against her, teasing the hard tip, sending shards of pleasure shooting through her. It was wonderful...and hideous. She had to make him stop.

  “No!” she said loudly, and jerked free. “No. Stop. I can’t.”

  The world blurred and she realized she’d started to cry.

  “Molly? What’s wrong?”

  It was all too humiliating. She stumbled to her feet, trying to push against the ground but instead encountering warm flesh. She stumbled, and staggered, then finally found her balance. It had grown dark. For a moment she was confused about where she was, but then she heard the surf. As always, the ocean provided a point of reference.

  With the sobs choking her and the tears making it impossible to see, she turned from him and started to run.

  * * *

  Dylan stayed by the water for a long time. He waited until Molly finally returned to the house. The moon had long since risen and most of the stars were out when he finally headed home.

  There were too many questions, and he didn’t have a single answer. What he knew for sure was that he’d broken the rules. Somehow something great between them had been shattered and he only had himself to blame. He had to apologize to her. The problem was, he wasn’t sorry about what had happened. Actually, he was sorry she’d run off, but until then, he’d been extremely happy with the turn of events.

  He sucked in a breath and wished it were colder out here on the sand. There was a cool breeze, but it wasn’t enough to take the edge off his desire. He was fourteen different kinds of a bastard, he told himself. Despite the fact that she’d run off in tears, he still wanted her. He wanted to carry her into his bed and show her that there really was more than just getting off. That the phrase “making love” was true. He wanted to love her, every part of her. With his mouth, his hands, with all his body. He wanted to make her forget where she was—hell, who she was. He wanted to take her so high that she lost her breath. He wanted to listen to her panting and feel her shaking as she recovered.

  Instead, he was going to tell her he was sorry. Not for kissing her. He could never regret that. He’d kissed plenty of women in his time, but there was something special about Molly. Something wonderful that made him forget himself. No, he would apologize because he’d obviously hurt her. After all, she’d run off in tears. He didn’t want to hurt her and he didn’t want her to regret anything about their relationship. He would tell her that.

  He headed for the house. His steps were slow and steady. A faint sense of dread skittered across the back of his neck, almost as if he wasn’t going to like what he found inside. As he entered, he glanced at the kitchen table. The keys to the bike were still there, as were the duffel bags in the corner. She hadn’t left.

  Faint light spilled out of her open bedroom door. He crossed the small living room and knocked. She sat on the bed with her legs pulled up to her chest. Her hair was in disarray around her shoulders, her face pale, her eyes huge. She looked up at him.

  She wasn’t crying anymore, but the expression of pain and sadness on her face nearly ripped out his heart. He had to hang on to the door frame to keep from going to his knees.

  “Molly.”

  “Hey, Dylan. I thought you might be spending the night on the beach.” Her attempted smile was all the more tragic for the effort and its failure.

  “Nah. I was just thinking.”

  “I know what about,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run off like that.”

  “Hey, stop it.” He moved into the room. There wasn’t anywhere to sit but the bed and he didn’t want to settle there. It was too much like invading her personal space. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and leaned against the wall. “I’m here to apologize, not you.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  “Yeah, I do.
I scared you. I didn’t mean to. I guess—” He shrugged. “Things got a little out of hand, and I’m sorry about that. We had a deal and I forgot.” This was harder than he’d thought. He swallowed. “I really care about you, Molly. I respect you. Bed partners are easy to come by but not friends, and that’s what I consider you. I don’t want to mess things up between us. You’re too important. I hope you’ll forgive me for getting out of line. I swear, it won’t happen again.”

  He was serious, Molly thought. What an amazing turn of events. He’d kissed her and touched her in a way that had made her feel so incredibly special. He’d been aroused, and in return she’d run off with no explanation. Now he was the one apologizing.

  “It’s not what you think,” she said slowly, not sure what she was going to tell him. Not the truth. He wouldn’t want to hear it and she didn’t think she had the strength to tell him.

  “I know what it is,” he said. “I don’t want you to think I didn’t like what we were doing, because I did. The kissing, the touching—they were great. But our friendship means more to me than that.”

  He was an unexpected and lovely gift in her life. He really cared about her, and she hadn’t known if anyone could ever care about her again. It wasn’t love, but she didn’t trust in love anymore. This was better. They could be friends for a long time. She could depend on him—he was the kind of man she could trust. A good man. He was also funny, smart, sexy and gorgeous. Talk about an irresistible package.

  She could feel the tears forming again. She fought them because she was tired of crying, tired of being scared and alone.

  “You’re important to me, Molly. Please give me another chance.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed and held out her hand. He was at her side in an instant. His warm fingers engulfed hers.

  She drew in a deep breath and struggled for control. “You’ve got it all wrong,” she said at last. “I’m not sorry that we kissed or touched. It was lovely. More than that. So special—you’ll never know how much that meant to me.”