Marriage Under the Mistletoe

by Helen Lacey

  “So he went inside and didn’t come out?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And his daughter?” she asked.

  “Safe,” he replied flatly. “But now without her father. She’d been safe all along in the neighbors’ yard. Which is where I told Mike she would probably be.”

  Evie sighed. “It’s impossible to reason with a distraught parent. I don’t imagine anything you said would have made much difference.”

  “No,” he agreed. “But I still...”

  “Wonder if you should have done things differently?”

  Could she read his mind? “Yeah, I guess I do. I was trained to react a certain way, to respond to situations by working toward the safest possible outcome. To save lives and property is the code a firefighter lives by,” he said, feeling the gentle stroke of Evie’s fingers against his arm and vaguely wondering why her touch gave him the kind of comfort he so often longed for. “But not at the expense of breaking ranks, or protocol—that’s what we’re taught from day one. People die when rules aren’t followed.”

  She drew in a quick breath and he knew he’d struck a chord. “Yes, they do.”

  “So, maybe in my head I know I did the right thing—and the inquest confirmed that. But sometimes, when I think about his wife and daughters, I just wonder, what if I’d gone after him? Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten so deep into the house before I could talk him around.”

  “You might have been killed, too.”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps. Or I might have been able to save him if I’d relied on my instincts rather than the rules.”

  “Aren’t the rules there to keep you safe?” she asked, the soft voice of reason.

  “Try telling that to Mike’s wife.” He sat back, careful not to move his arm in case she released him. For now, Scott was content to feel her soft touch. “He had a chance for a desk job. He wouldn’t take it. He thought he’d be selling out. It was better hours and better suited to a man in his position.”

  “You mean a man with a wife and children?”

  “Yeah.”

  She took a moment to respond. “You make it sound like someone without a family is more expendable.”

  “Not expendable exactly. Just with fewer people to leave behind.”

  “I’m sure your mother and sister wouldn’t think so,” she said softly. “Or anyone else who...who cares about you.”

  He wondered for a moment if she was one of those people, and then felt stupid because they hardly knew each other. But she was still touching him, still rubbing his arm in that slow burning way which was not quite seductive, but not exactly platonic, either. “I guess that puts me in my place, then.” He felt her smile through to the blood in his veins. He looked at her hand. “If you keep doing that, Evie, I’m going to forget all about my good intentions.”

  She removed her hand immediately. “Sorry,” she said. “Habit. I’m a touchy kind of person. I obviously need to set some boundaries.”

  Scott didn’t like the sound of that. The last thing he wanted was a wall between them. He wanted her so much he could barely function. And she looked so beautiful in her green dress and silver sandals.

  “Don’t apologize,” he said. “I liked it.”

  She looked directly ahead and spoke in a quiet voice. “Is your friend’s death the reason why you think relationships and the job don’t mix?”

  Scott didn’t bother to deny it. “I saw what Mike went through, trying to juggle the two and he never seemed to have much of a handle on either. He told me once he didn’t think he was a great father or husband—and sometimes his mind wasn’t on the job.” Scott wished she’d touch him again, or wished he had the courage to touch her. “You know, there have been times when I’ve arrived at a fire and thought—this one looks bad, so is this it? But I still go in—I go in knowing I have to, I go in knowing being a firefighter is all I’ve ever wanted to do. Mike was like that, too, once. But he got married and had a couple of kids and he changed—he took shortcuts, he improvised, he made mistakes because he was distracted. You can’t afford to do that in this job. If you do you may end up paying the ultimate price. As Mike did.”

  Scott felt as if a valve inside him had been released. He’d kept those thoughts to himself for eight months. And he held strong in his convictions.

  “I understand what you’re saying, but I’m not sure I agree with you.”

  He’d wondered if she would. And he respected her opinion. So he asked her a blunt question. “Do you think your husband’s mind was on the job that night he went out?”

  Evie’s head snapped around. She went to say something, but stopped. And she looked at him for the longest time. Finally, she spoke. “No, I don’t imagine it was.”

  “Because he would have been thinking about everything he hadn’t done at home. He would have been thinking about the approaching storm and wondering if you were okay. As well trained as he was, as prepared as he was, those distractions might have cost him his life.”

  Scott saw her stiffen. “I hope I was more than a distraction to my husband.”

  He’d offended her. He was an idiot. “I apologize—that didn’t come out right. I can be clumsy when I’m nervous.”

  “Nervous?” she echoed, as though she couldn’t believe it. “Of what?”

  Scott managed a smile. “You,” he admitted. “Being within touching distance of a beautiful woman makes every man nervous.”

  “I’m not beautiful,” she protested. “Now, my sister Grace, she’s beautiful.”

  “I didn’t notice,” he replied, and wondered how she’d not know she was the most beautiful woman on the planet. Man, I’ve got it bad. I should pack my stuff and get away from Crystal Point as fast as I can. Clumsy wasn’t the word for how he felt at the moment. Hotly aroused was more like it. “Maybe we should get back to the party?”

  Evie nodded. “Yes, good idea.” She stood up and he followed. Before they reached the pool gate she stopped. “You know,” she said firmly, leaning toward him just a fraction. “Your friend...he wanted to save his child.” She took a breath, coming closer. “And until you’re a father yourself, I don’t think you should criticize his motivations. It might be okay to have your principles set in stone if you’ve got experience to back them up—if you don’t, you just end up looking like an immature, judgmental ass.”

  With that, she turned on her sandals and walked from the pool area.

  Scott remained where he was and stared after her. And he smiled. Evie Dunn had his number. And at that moment he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything in his life.

  Chapter Seven

  On Sunday night Evie took in a movie with Fiona. The few hours away from the inn gave her a chance to think. About herself. About Trevor. And about Scott. Thoughts of her outburst by the pool at her parents’ house lingered in her thoughts. Lectures were not usually her thing.

  When she returned home the lights were still on downstairs and she headed for the living room to say good-night to her guests before going to bed. Only her guests were in the dining room, scattered around the big table, playing rummy. And Scott sat at the head, dealing the cards.

  “Come and join us?” Flora suggested.

  But Evie was not in the mood for games. She wanted to climb into bed and go to sleep. She wanted to forget about how all she’d thought about during the romantic chick-flick was locking lips with Scott. And looking at him didn’t help. He wore a white T-shirt, and the soft fabric molded to his perfectly and sinfully sculptured chest. The Kellers were holding hands at one end of the table, the Manning sisters were giving their cards serious attention and Scott was watching her with blistering intensity.

  “Wh-where’s Trevor?” she asked shakily.

  “Bed.”

  Heat traveled up her back like a serpent. The very word conjured up a whole lot of images she tried desperately to ignore. “Oh, well...I think I’ll—”

  A chair moved and she realized he’d pushed it out with his f
oot. “He’s a little old to need tucking in, right?” Scott gestured to the chair. “Come and sit down.”

  No exactly an order, but pretty close. Evie fought the stab of resentment behind her ribs and faked a smile. No scenes in front of her paying guests. Just smiles and a happy face. Right, she could do that. She sat down and took the cards Scott dealt her. She got a lousy hand and wondered if he’d done it deliberately. Then she figured someone so unyielding wouldn’t consider cheating. His mouth twisted fractionally, as if he knew, and that set a determined pulse through Evie’s blood. Evie was a master at rummy. She’d beat his pants off. Well, maybe not his pants—although the idea of strip rummy seemed scandalously erotic. If they were alone. Which they weren’t. And if she had any intention of setting her inhibitions free. Which she didn’t. So she needed to forget all about that in a hurry.

  She lost the first round, won the second and third and was hyped up to make it three in a row when the Kellers and Amelia announced they’d had enough. Once the cards were packed away, the chairs pushed in and the few empty glasses placed on the sideboard, everyone said good-night and moved toward the wide doorway.

  Except Patti Keller gave a delighted shriek and said, “Mistletoe!”

  Evie stopped dead in her tracks. And looked up. And nearly choked. Sure enough, there is was. Directly above her. And directly above Scott.

  No way.

  Four pairs of curious eyes looked straight at her. And Evie knew exactly what their look meant. She also wasn’t having anything to do with it.

  “It’s tradition,” Flora said, and both of her silver brows rose. “I thought you were a stickler for it?”

  She was—usually. But not when faced with the idea of kissing Scott Jones in front of a roomful of people. Okay, maybe not a room full—but there was enough of an audience to rattle her usual ramrod composure. She had no intention of doing anything so ludicrous. Especially when she felt as if she’d been set up. When she knew she’d been set up. And the two gray-haired old ladies in front of her didn’t seem to have the need to hide the fact. She looked at Scott, saw his amused, almost I-dare-you-to grin and wanted the floor to open up and suck her in.

  “We’ll go first,” Patti announced, and promptly dragged her bewildered-looking husband beneath the doorway and kissed him.

  Newlyweds, Evie thought with an inward groan. She’d seen dozens of them come through Dunn Inn. All of them had possessed that same look as Patti Keller—that dreamy, I-can’t-wait-to-get-my-hands-on-my-man look. Was I ever like that? She couldn’t remember. Had Gordon’s kisses knocked her off her feet? Had she let him? Had she been so immersed in her role as the sensible Preston daughter she’d forgotten to live a passionate life?

  Passion...the idea of it teased around the edges of her thoughts. And sex, well, that was supposed to be passionate, wasn’t it? She considered her options—the Kellers were still kissing, the Manning sisters were waiting and Scott hadn’t moved an inch.

  So she ditched her sensible garb for a few moments, swiveled on her heel, stood on her toes and kissed Scott Jones. Just like that. Evie could feel him smiling beneath the soft pressure of her mouth. Her body thrummed, her blood sang in her veins. Kissing Scott was like nothing on earth.

  When she was done she pulled away, stepped back and flashed a kind of is-everyone-happy-now? smile.

  Then she waltzed from the room without another word.

  * * *

  Scott had always thought he knew himself. He knew what he wanted, where he was going, where he’d been. Granted, Mike’s death had shaken up his world and made him question his skills as a firefighter. But this was something else.

  Evie...

  He could still taste the sweet softness of her lips when she’d kissed him underneath the mistletoe. His attraction for her was consuming his thoughts. Like now, while they were in the car on their way back from Noah and Callie’s. They’d gone to her brother’s home for dinner and it was the first time they’d been alone for two days.

  “You’re very quiet.”

  She let out a breath. “I’m just thinking.”

  So was he. About kissing Evie. About the scent of her perfume. About how he couldn’t get her out of his head. About how she was the most remarkable woman he’d ever met. “What about?”

  “Trevor,” she said softly. “I was thinking about my son.”

  Scott laughed silently at his own self-indulgent conceit that she might have been thinking about him. She had a son and she sounded concerned. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, not really.”

  “But?” he asked as he turned onto the bitumen road.

  “I was watching Noah with his kids,” she replied, settling her arms around her waist. “It got me thinking about how Trevor must miss his dad.”

  Suddenly it got Scott thinking, too. He remembered the conversation he’d had with Trevor when they’d shot hoops together. “Natural he’d miss him. But he had a good father, right?”

  “The operative word being had.” The pain on her face was evident.

  “He has you,” Scott said gently.

  She looked at him and Scott stole a sideways glance. “He’s a lot like his dad.”

  “He’s like you.”

  She smiled. “I guess in some ways. But I watched my brother with his son tonight and saw what an incredible relationship that was and wondered if I’d been...selfish.”

  Scott glanced at her. “Why would you think that?”

  Her beautiful hair rustled. “Because...I haven’t married again.”

  Married. He wasn’t sure why the idea twisted at his insides. “You can only live the life you’re meant to live, Evie,” he said, and then thought he’d made no sense at all.

  But she nodded as though she understood. “Maybe. Only, Trevor should have had a father...and I... The truth is I shut down after Gordon died. I guess I shut down so much I didn’t think about what Trevor might need. I just decided that to be the best parent I could be I had to give my son all of me. And it made it easier, too,” she admitted. “I didn’t have to consider what it might do to us if I brought someone else into our life. But maybe I let him down by not...well, at least I could have considered it.”

  “If that’s what you want...you should,” he said, though the words felt like rocks in his mouth. The thought of Evie with another man made it actually hurt behind his ribs. But he was right to say it—right to get the words out between them. He was leaving in two weeks and in no shape to offer her anything other than sex. And Evie deserved way more than that. As much as part of him wanted her more than he could remember wanting anything in his life. “Even an immature, judgmental ass like me can see that.”

  He turned the car into the driveway and braked outside the studio.

  She twisted in her seat when the car came to a halt. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to come across all bossy and patronizing.”

  Scott smiled and killed the engine. “Sure you did.”

  She smiled back. “Well, maybe. But I shouldn’t have. I sometimes forget that I don’t have all the answers. You came here for your sister’s wedding, not lectures from someone who wouldn’t have a clue what it must be like to put your life on the line every day.”

  “Apology accepted,” he said. “Though I probably deserved it.”

  “Perhaps a little,” she said, and smiled. “And about before...what I said about Trevor. I’m not complaining...not really...it’s only that sometimes,” she said, suddenly seeming incredibly young and vulnerable. “I feel like I’m stuck in this role of being a certain kind of person. A certain kind of woman. And as that woman I always do what’s expected, what’s the right thing. I get this sense that being...I don’t know...suffocated almost...as if I’ve suffocated myself by being who I am. I’ve built this orderly, safe life which at times feels like a jail cell.”

  Scott’s heart thundered beneath his ribs. “And what, Evie? You want to break out?”

  She shrugged a little. “I think about it. I t
hink what it might be like to be...I don’t know...different.”

  Heat filled the space between them, flicking into life, energizing the air with its tiny atoms. Even in the dim light Scott could see the brightness of her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly, as though she was about to say something, as though she wanted to...to... He shook the feeling off, knowing he was nuts to keep thinking about her in that way. But he wanted to kiss her so much. He wanted to feel the skin on her shoulders beneath his hands, he wanted to taste the delicate spot behind her ear and then go lower, past her throat and lower still, to breasts he knew, without ever having touched them, ever having had them pressed naked against him, were glorious and round and sensitive and made for his hands and mouth. He wanted to kiss her ribs, her belly, her thighs... He want to bury his mind, his body, in the softness of her skin. He was more aroused than he could ever remember being in his life, and she hadn’t even touched him!

  “You better make a run for it,” he said, more groan than words.

  She obviously heard him, but remained where she was, drawing in breath. “I should, yes.”

  Scott inhaled deeply and the scent of her ripped through his blood. If he moved a few inches she would be in his arms. And she wouldn’t resist—he felt that with mind-blowing certainty. “Last chance.”

  She turned, easing toward him. Scott raised one hand and touched her cheek. He didn’t imagine the way her lips parted, or the way her tongue rested on her white teeth. The need to kiss her, possess her surged across his skin. And he didn’t have to wait. She came willingly, moving her body across the space dividing them and pressed her mouth to his. Scott responded instantly, taking her lips in a searing kiss that rocked him to the very core. His hands moved to her shoulders and he molded the delicate bones beneath his palms. The kiss went on, drugging, hot, kicking at his libido like a jackhammer. She moaned low in her throat as he cupped the underswell of her breast. Heat radiated through the T-shirt she wore and Scott felt her nipple peak against his thumb.