Holly Lane (Destiny, Ohio)

by Toni Blake

  Pushing through the door and out onto the sidewalk, she glanced back as she held it open for Sophie behind her, then started forward—only to barrel straight into a solid, sturdy male body. They both let out little oomph noises at the impact, and then she looked up—into the warmest, sexiest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

  Thirteen

  . . . they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contented with the time . . .

  Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

  Uh-oh. So much for her “no more Adam” plan.

  As his gloved hands rose to her shoulders to steady her, his gaze widened. “Sue Ann.”

  “Adam,” she breathed. Oh brother—don’t breathe at him. You sound like a smitten schoolgirl. “Sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  And when he smiled at her and said, “Not a problem, sugar plum,” she felt it squarely between her thighs. Talk about madness.

  Oh Adam, why do you have to be here, now, for heaven’s sake? Because she might have dodged a bullet with the cat, but this bullet was hitting her, hard, embedding itself straight into her heart. He stood before her, his dark hair mussed, jaw stubbled, bundled in a winter jacket and blue jeans, a striped scarf of hunter green and burgundy circling his neck. His cheeks were slightly red from the cold, but . . . oh my—those eyes of his were like hot blue flames, making it so she didn’t even feel the brisk December wind. And that fast, her heart beat too hard and she was wanting him again.

  But wait, stop. I can do this. I’m a big girl—I can push down my desires and stick to my plan. And she was going to start by . . . acting more normal than smitten. Even if the last time she’d seen him she’d been dodging his kiss.

  “So . . . what’s up?” she asked.

  “Not much,” he told her.

  “Christmas shopping?”

  “Um . . . actually, to be honest,” he said, taking on that slightly sheepish look she found so inexplicably endearing on him, “I’m heading to Dolly’s for a piece of pumpkin pie. Because I’m done at work for the day and not in the mood to go home to a quiet house.”

  “Oh.” Damn, that made her sad. “Still missing the boys?”

  His simple shrug said it all—then he changed the subject by reaching down to ruffle Sophie’s hair. “How’s it goin’, kiddo?”

  Sophie tilted her little blond head and replied, “Okay, I guess. Mommy still won’t let me have a cat, but we’re gonna go home and make cookies, and then go sled riding, too!”

  “Well, that sounds fun. Who needs a cat when you’ve got all that to keep you busy, right?”

  Glancing down at Sophie, Sue Ann saw that she truly seemed to be considering his words. “Yeah, I guess Dickens wouldn’t be very good at that stuff.”

  “Dickens is the cat in question?” Adam asked, switching his look briefly from Sophie to Sue Ann. She nodded, and he looked back to Sophie to say, “Cat hair and cookies don’t go too well together. And cats are terrible sled riders. Now—my dog, Pepper, though, is great on a sled.”

  Sophie let out a giggle, smiling up at Adam. “No he’s not. You’re teasing me.”

  “Would I do that?” he asked playfully.

  And Sophie gave a big, emphatic nod that made them all laugh.

  “Kid’s got my number,” Adam said, lifting his gaze back to Sue Ann.

  She didn’t answer, just smiling a bit more, busy commanding herself, Don’t want him, don’t want him, don’t want him, until he said, “Well, guess I’ll head on to Dolly’s. You girls have a fun afternoon, okay?”

  And—hell. She couldn’t stop herself. “Are you any good at cookies? Or sledding?”

  A sexy glint shone in his eye when he said, “It so happens I am a master sledder. Cookies—not so much, but I can promise not to get any hair in them.”

  Sophie giggled once more, and—holy crap—Sue Ann felt his response tingling through her like softly falling snowflakes. If snowflakes were tingly. And hot. Though maybe it wasn’t his response so much as the flirtation in his gaze. “Well, if you can bear to pass up Dolly’s pie, you’re welcome to join us for cookies and sledding.”

  “Hmm,” he said, eyes narrowing as he appeared to weigh it carefully. “It’s pretty good pie. But . . . ” He glanced back and forth between her and Sophie. “All right, you talked me into it.”

  They made plans for Adam to follow them home, and on the short walk to the car, with Sophie’s little mitten-covered hand in hers, Sue Ann girded herself. She’d only invited him over because she felt bad for him, that was all. And if Sophie were away for a whole month, this month in particular, she’d be moping around like crazy. And if she’d learned nothing else lately, it was that Adam was going to be in her life. He just was. So having him over seemed like a good chance to prove she could be with him without . . . being with him.

  It’s not because I want him. It’s not.

  Even if her thighs ached as she walked to the car.

  Even if her heart beat harder with the mere knowledge that they’d soon be spending time together again.

  Then—dear Lord—a little shiver actually shook her, and she felt it all the way through her body, and in some key places more than others. Yikes.

  “Cold, Mommy?” Sophie asked, peering innocently up at her.

  “Um . . . yeah, that’s it—I’m cold.” Uh-huh, you just keep telling yourself that.

  Adam wasn’t very good in the kitchen, but he tried. Mainly, he liked being close to Sue Ann, and without planning it, he kept finding reasons to touch her in small ways as the three of them maneuvered about the space. A touch on the shoulder as he stepped around her to grab more dough from the fridge, a hand on her waist to keep her from backing into him with a hot tray of cookies.

  They found a rhythm—Sue Ann rolled out the dough, then let Sophie cut out the shapes of trees, snowmen, stars, and stockings with Adam’s help. He removed the excess dough from around the shapes before Sue Ann gently scooped them onto the baking sheet with a spatula and into the oven. He and Sophie were also in charge of decorating after the finished cookies cooled—and of eating any that ended up broken or burnt. Holiday music echoed from the living room the whole while, and beyond the kitchen window a light snow began to fall.

  Of course, he knew Sue Ann had invited him over because she felt sorry for him. And that kinda would have sucked except . . . he sensed it was about more than just pity. He sensed that she might be starting to care for him, too, in just the way he wanted her to. But he didn’t plan to push that with her today—nope, he just let himself enjoy the afternoon. And more than that, he made sure he was being real with her, being his real, everyday self, just as he’d realized he should. And as a result, he was pretty sure they were all enjoying the afternoon.

  And just to reassure her, on one particular occasion when both his palms closed lightly over her hips to keep them from colliding, he leaned near and softly said, “I’m not trying to put the moves on you here, by the way.”

  “I know,” she said pleasantly over her shoulder.

  Then they went on about what they were doing, Sue Ann bending to put a tray of cookies in the oven while Adam grabbed milk from the fridge to mix up more icing. Of course, the fact that he wasn’t putting the moves on her didn’t stop him from enjoying the view of Sue Ann from behind.

  Once all the cookies were baked and decorated, Adam asked, “So are we ready to break out those sleds?”

  “Yeah!” Sophie yelled.

  But Sue Ann, looking pretty damn adorable in a frilly red and white Mrs. Santa themed apron with flour smudged on one cheek, put her hands on her hips and said, “Well, not until we get this mess cleaned up.”

  Okay, so he hadn’t noticed the mess until that moment. But now that he looked, the kitchen table was covered with racks of freshly decorated cookies—with drips of icing and colored sugars sprinkling the spaces in between. The counter was spattered with flour, as well as dirty cookie cutters and a rolling pin. And greasy cookie sheets set stacked atop the stove.r />
  “Make ya a deal,” he said.

  She tilted her head and didn’t quite smile, but a playful gleam entered her gaze. “Let’s hear it.”

  “You forget about this and go sledding with us, and when we come back, I’ll do clean-up duty.”

  In response, she tilted her head the other way, and just when he thought she was going to insist on not leaving the mess for later, she said, “Well, that’s an offer too good to pass up, so you got it, mister.” She whipped off the apron as Sophie cheered.

  Adam headed to the storage shed in the backyard in search of sleds while Sue Ann and Sophie changed into snow clothes and got bundled up. He was pleased to find several old-fashioned, wooden Flexible Flyers, complete with their signature red runners, well-aged and probably passed down through Sue Ann’s or Jeff’s family—and one of them was even kid-sized. Steel runner sleds weren’t great for fresh powder, but today’s new snow was light, and a slower ride for Sophie wasn’t a bad idea anyway.

  Given that he worked outdoors most of the time, often even in winter, he kept extra gear in his truck, so after dropping the sleds in the driveway, he found himself a hat and a thicker coat to put over the winter jacket he already wore. The snow was really coming down now—but he was actually starting to enjoy this snowy December. At first, it had come far too early for his liking, but he couldn’t deny how pretty it looked draping the boughs of evergreens like white icing or lying like a thick blanket now across Sue Ann’s rooftop with the Christmas lights he’d put up peeking out from the edge.

  And when Sue Ann and Sophie exited the front door, he was reminded that this early snow was what had brought him and Sue Ann together in the first place. So . . . yeah, now that he thought about it, he was suddenly liking the snow a lot.

  Within a few minutes, they’d dragged the old sleds up quiet Holly Lane, where the dead end met with an old fence and a thin line of trees that gave way to a vacant, rolling hillside. Sugar Creek, which wound past the Farris-Romo Family Apple Orchard before carving a path south of town, gurgled past somewhere at the foot of the incline.

  Adam quickly figured out that Sophie hadn’t done much sledding before, so he gave her some pointers and stuck close by her side, taking one of the bigger Flyers down the hill right behind her. Other than a couple of minor spills, she did great, and her laughter made it clear she was having a good time.

  Sue Ann didn’t seem particularly skilled with the sled herself, and after one or two slow, choppy trips down the hill, she mostly just watched from the top. Adam didn’t say anything, keeping his focus on watching out for Sophie, but he couldn’t help being amused—she’d acted like she was such a cookie and sledding expert earlier.

  Once Sophie had really gotten the hang of things and the two of them had just reascended the hill together, wooden sleds pulled behind, he said to her, loud enough for Sue Ann to hear, “You keep going—I’m gonna go help your mom out, make sure to give her a good ride.” And Sue Ann’s face bloomed a bright pink color in response, from more than just the cold.

  Adam couldn’t hold in his laughter, which was probably a little lascivious, even as he added, “Down the hill.” To let her know she was the only one who’d taken his words in a naughty way—and teasing her about it.

  She bit her lip, looking appropriately embarrassed, even as she tried to squelch the grin sneaking out—and Adam wasted no time situating himself on the sled behind her. Which meant pressing his body up against hers, of course. Which was damn nice. “Hi,” he whispered low in her ear, leaning close as he reached his arms around her for the Flyer’s rope.

  “Hi,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible, and tinged with a timid ardor that made him just want to wrap around her even closer and pull her into a warm embrace. But that’s not what today is about. Today is about just being with her and Sophie, not pushing the sex, or even the romance. Even if she felt perfect cuddled in front of him. And even if he feared he was starting to get a little hard against her ass.

  “You’re not much of a sledder,” he said, pointing out the obvious.

  “I guess I haven’t really gone sledding much since I was a kid. I guess I remember it being easier.”

  “Well, no worries, sugar plum,” he said deeply. “Just hold on and enjoy the ride.”

  “Hold on where?” she asked.

  But Adam had already put the sled in motion and they were beginning to descend the hill, gaining speed, so he said, “Wherever you can.” And Sue Ann gripped onto both his knees through the denim and he liked having her hands on him as he maneuvered the sled down the slope.

  With so much weight on the Flyer, it picked up speed more rapidly than on other trips, and before he knew it, Sue Ann was letting out a high-pitched squeal, latching her arms around his legs as if for dear life, and expecting him to control the sled at the same time. Not that he minded—while she screeched, he chuckled, the wintry wind brisk on his face and snow flurries flying in his eyes; it was the best damn run down the hill he’d had.

  Until—whoops!—the sled flew over a rise too fast, hit the curving slope of snow unevenly, and they both went tumbling off into a rolling heap of flailing arms and legs.

  When they came to a stop, they were covered in snow, and Adam lay on top of Sue Ann. They were both laughing—until their eyes met, only a few inches apart. Damn, she felt good under him. “Hi,” he said again, low and deep.

  “Hi,” she returned.

  “I’m still not trying to put the moves on you.”

  “I know.” She gave him a small, pretty smile. “But, um, maybe you should get up now.”

  “Uh—yeah,” he said, pushing up off her warm body. He really hadn’t been trying to put the moves on her—but laying there in the snow with her had felt too nice, and it had stolen his senses there for a few seconds.

  As he reached his gloved hand down to hers, pulling her to her feet, she said, “Thanks for the ride.”

  When the pale light of the snowy day turned to dusk, they gathered their sleds and headed back to Sue Ann’s, where she invited Adam in for dinner. She did it without even weighing it, because it just made sense. “I’ve had beef stew cooking in the crock pot all day,” she told him teasingly, as a lure. Really wanting him to stay. Just not quite ready to be away from him yet.

  Because . . . maybe things were slowly changing. Was she crazy to let that happen, to let herself be tempted? Yet to her surprise, she found herself thinking that maybe, just maybe, she could begin to look past what stood between them, to trust in him not to hurt her in any way—by testifying for Jeff or otherwise. And maybe Jenny was right—maybe it wasn’t too soon. Maybe she could handle this. Maybe.

  Part of her couldn’t believe she was starting to let down her guard on this, but a bigger part began to wonder how she’d kept it up for so long.

  Still, she planned to move very slowly here—she wasn’t sure of anything yet.

  “I knew I smelled something good earlier before we started the cookies,” Adam said, holding the front door open for her and Sophie.

  He never actually said he was going to stay—he just followed them in like it was natural, normal. And though it felt good to step into the cozy warmth of her house, having him there warmed her heart in a whole different way.

  As Adam built a fire, Sue Ann lay out wet gloves and scarves on the big brick hearth, and they decided it was too cozy next to the blaze to leave—after baking up some refrigerated biscuits and dishing up plates of stew, they ate next to the fireplace.

  “Who wants cookies?” Sue Ann asked after they were done.

  “Me!” Sophie said.

  “Me, too,” Adam chimed in.

  Although Sophie’s eyes suddenly bolted open wider. “But be sure to save some for Santa!”

  “No problem—I’ll make sure we have some on hand for the big guy. If we run out, I’ll just make more.”

  Sue Ann was taking up plates as Sophie turned to Adam to say, “Guess what? Santa’s bringing me a reindeer!”

&n
bsp; And just like every time Sophie brought up this subject, Sue Ann’s heart froze a little, even despite the warmth of the now-blazing fire just a few feet away. She felt Adam’s guilt, as well, as they exchanged looks. But she didn’t say anything—she’d officially run out of ways to dissuade Sophie from counting on a reindeer on Christmas morning.

  “Wow,” Adam said, “a reindeer, huh? That . . . sounds like a pretty tall order for Santa.”

  “No it’s not, silly,” she said, all confidence as usual when this was discussed. “Santa has lots of reindeer.”

  “But . . . probably none to spare. It takes eight to pull his sleigh—nine if you count Rudolph,” Adam reminded her. “And he probably needs to keep a whole second string on hand, too—in case of . . . injuries or illness. Or maybe they just get worn out from all that flying sometimes. So . . . you should try not to hold it against him if he doesn’t bring one.”

  Sue Ann had headed toward the kitchen, dirty plates in hand, but she paused at the doorway to listen to her daughter’s response. “That’s what everybody keeps saying,” Sophie told him, “but I know he’ll come through. He’s Santa. He won’t let me down.”

  That’s when Adam promptly changed the subject back to cookies, and she guessed she couldn’t blame him because what else could he do? What could anyone do? Sophie believed Santa Claus would bring her a reindeer, and nothing was going to change her mind until her heart broke on Christmas morning.

  By the time they’d scarfed down a plateful of cookies between them, a glance at the mantel clock told Sue Ann it was later than she’d realized. “Miss Sophie,” she announced, “it’s just about your bedtime, so you’d best get ready for your bath, and I’ll be right up to help.” Then she looked to the handsome man sitting by the fire, now stripped down to his blue jeans and a thermal pullover of waffle weave, his dark hair mussed, having gotten wet and then drying that way. “And you, mister, have a date with my messy kitchen.”