by Naima Simone
Grunting, Ian pushed off the stool. “Gossiping old man.” He removed the table leg from the lathe and handed it to Wolf. “I guess that means you don’t want to hear about how Donald Harrison caught the missus sending pictures of her, uh, treasure over that Facebook?”
“Shut. Up.” Wolf gaped at his father. “Talk.”
And while his father told him about the seventy-six-year-old Mrs. Harrison getting caught up in the latest online love scam, Wolf couldn’t help but run their conversation over in his head. And steel his resolve.
He might’ve downplayed his attraction to Nessa, but he hadn’t been misleading his father about getting involved with her. Nessa Hunt had no intention of staying in Rose Bend beyond her checkout date, and unlike with Olivia, he wouldn’t pretend otherwise. He’d played himself for a fool once and opened his heart up to that kind of pain. He’d literally watched a woman drive out of his life once.
Damn if he would do it again.
Eleven
NESSA STARED AT the laptop screen, scanning the email for what seemed like the tenth time. Stalling. She was most definitely stalling.
Just do it.
Her mind fired off the order and yet the cursor still hovered over the send button. For the eleventh time, she read the email to Gayle, her mother’s best friend. Just one paragraph asking her to please use the key Nessa had left her for mail and emergencies to grab a box from her closet and mail Nessa the contents. That’s it. Simple. Nothing explaining that the contents contained her mother’s personal effects such as letters, photos and other memorabilia that Nessa hadn’t been able to bring herself to go through yet.
She could’ve called. But that would’ve meant questions. And since Gayle was also an attorney, Nessa didn’t feel up to fielding what would undoubtedly be an Annalise Keating–level interrogation. So email it was. But first, she had to send the damn thing.
Why the hesitation? It’s just a message. A request.
Because this makes it real. There’s no turning back. There’s no denying that you’re going to search for your biological father.
The answer blared in her mind, quick and painfully bright. She could no longer blame her mother and Isaac for not knowing the identity of her biological father; she’d have to claim some of the fault, too.
She hit Send.
And exhaled a hard breath, her pulse a dull, heavy beat in her head.
She glanced over her shoulder and out the kitchen window toward the workshop where Wolf had disappeared after he’d found her Sunday. He’d probably like to know that she’d—
No. Don’t even think about going there.
Sunday had been...emotional. And in the heat of the moment—a very weak moment—she’d let her guard down and had agreed to his help. Among other things. She tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling, a memory of him asking—no, demanding—she ask him to hold her flashing in her head. Followed by images of him holding her close, stroking her face...
Look at me, baby.
That endearment had caught her by surprise. Had sent a shock of unexpected and terrifying pleasure jolting through her. She hadn’t wanted to like that on his lips. Hadn’t wanted to hear him call her “baby” again in a deeper, rougher growl as those forest green eyes blazed with a dark hunger.
Oh damn, she was such a liar. Yes, she did. She wanted it all.
And that scared her the most.
Distance. She needed distance from this wholly inconvenient and stupid-as-hell desire for Wolf Dennison. This search for her bio dad didn’t require a team effort. She could do it on her own. As she’d done most things in her life. Why should this be any different? Besides, another lesson she’d learned.
If you didn’t depend on people for help, then they couldn’t disappoint you when they didn’t come through.
“Hey, Nessa.” Sydney, with Patience strapped to her chest, strolled into the kitchen, Leo behind her.
Nessa closed the laptop and mentally grimaced as the two women glanced at one another, eyebrows raised. Yeah, in hindsight the action appeared completely sketchy.
“Hey,” she said, smiling and trying to play off her suspicious behavior. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing much.” Sydney released the catches on the carrier and gently pulled her baby free. The love on the other woman’s face as she cuddled the little girl in her arms shone brighter than the winter light pouring into the kitchen, and Nessa shifted her gaze away from it. The power and beauty of that adoration was almost like peering directly into sunlight—blinding and too much. “Well, that’s not true. I’m trying to convince Leo to take a break and come with me to the Christmas tree decorating contest at the high school.”
“And like I’ve told her, I can’t. This inn won’t run itself. Especially with Moe taking off for her book club tonight.” Leo leaned down and pressed a kiss to her niece’s head.
Sydney snorted. “Is that what they’re calling it now? Wine club would be more accurate.” Smiling at Nessa, Sydney slid an arm around Leo. “Nessa, my best friend here is preparing to take over the inn when her parents eventually retire. Too bad she’s becoming a fuddy-duddy workaholic in the process.”
Leo rolled her eyes. “’Scuse me for wanting to make sure Kinsale Inn is the premiere destination spot in the Berkshires. I’ll have plenty of time to play, just not during one of our busiest seasons. But,” she said, turning to Nessa, lips pursed, “since you’re not busy—definitely not surfing Pornhub or anything—why don’t you join her? Ivy rode over with Sinead to help her take cookies and brownies... Wait.” Leo frowned. “You did know about that, right?”
Nessa nodded. Ivy had texted and let her know she would be with Sinead since the preteen still wasn’t talking to her.
“Good, didn’t want to narc her out, although if she left without telling you, she totally deserved it.” Leo scooped Patience out of Sydney’s arms, apparently not satisfied with just smooching the baby. Cradling her close, she peeked at Nessa from under her thick fringe of lashes. “It’ll be fun. Get you out of the inn. Apparently, I’m the only one married to this place and all too happy with it.”
“Actually, I’m fine. I have some things I need to finish up.” Nessa waved a hand toward the laptop although it was a lie. Truth be told, between Ivy’s silent treatment, the constant wondering about the next step in finding her father and avoiding Wolf, Christmas festival activities numbered somewhere below scraping ice off her windshield on her to-do list. Alcohol and anything starring Jason Momoa on Netflix numbered very high.
No, scratch that. Not Jason. Because that would only remind her of Wolf. And that she didn’t need.
“Aw, c’mon, Nessa.” Sydney plopped down in the chair across from her, propping her hands under her chin and batting surprisingly long lashes. The cynical part of her wondered if they were mink. “What else would you do here? You know what?” She held up a hand, palm out, and shook her head. “Don’t answer that. Because if it involves alcohol or cookie-dough ice cream, I might lose this argument. So just put your shit on and get in the car with me.”
Leo snickered. “Listen, Nessa, a Christmas tree decorating contest might not sound like a rousing good time on its face. But let me tell you. A couple of years ago, some enterprising soul replaced the ex-mayor’s box of decorations with penis-and-ball-shaped ornaments. Hilarious! We’ve all been secretly waiting for Penisgate to happen again. You can’t make this up, my friend. What if it goes down and you miss it? No.” She shot Nessa a furious glare. “Not on my watch. Get yourself up, throw on layers and go on down to that high school just in case the bandit strikes again.”
Nessa stared at both of them, not sure if she should laugh or back away slowly without losing eye contact.
In the end she just got in the car.
“This is going to be great—you’ll see,” Sydney crowed, hooking an arm through Nessa’s as she led her across the high
school parking lot toward the gym entrance ten minutes later. “It was one of my favorite contests, although Cole told me it’s become a lot bigger since I was last in Rose Bend. Before, we decorated table-sized trees. Now...”
She slid her arm free of Nessa’s and pulled open one of the doors, cradling Patience close with the other.
Good Lord.
A forest. She’d stepped into a forest. Oh sure, it was smack-dab in the middle of a huge high school gym with bleachers on either side and banners on the walls from years past, proclaiming the Rose Bend Panthers champions of basketball, wrestling or cheerleading. Tables littered with brown boxes and clear crates dotted the floor and stepladders played hide-and-seek with the many chairs but still... A Christmas tree forest.
Oh my God, Mom. Did you ever spend a Christmas here with my father? Did you see anything like this?
The thought slipped into her mind like a ghost, and Nessa shivered in its wake. Sorrow rippled through her because she might never have those answers. Because if she’d had just a little more time, another year, a few more months and a little more truth, she could’ve at least shared this with her mother.
“Yep. A huge step up from the table-sized trees.” Sydney chuckled, tugging Nessa farther into the building, and thankfully jerking her from the spiral of her thoughts. “The town motto is All Are Welcome Where None Are Strangers. It should be Go Big or Go Home.” She laughed again. “Believe it or not, we get people who not only travel from neighboring towns but as far away as Boston to attend the festival activities. And that was before I left Rose Bend. I can’t even imagine how it is now.”
“My mother would’ve loved this.”
The words tumbled out of Nessa without her permission. As soon as they hit her ears, she wished she could retract them. Especially when Sydney glanced at her, sympathy in her smile and eyes. The other woman smoothed a tender hand down her baby’s back, quiet for a moment.
“Since I can see how uncomfortable that admission makes you, I would ordinarily let it pass and pretend you didn’t say it. But I also remember being you a year ago. Then, I would’ve said I didn’t want anyone to acknowledge my feelings, but I did. Because a simple acknowledgment would’ve meant I was heard. So, I hear you, Nessa. What you said, and what you didn’t say.” Sydney found Nessa’s hand, encircled her fingers and squeezed. “And so you know, anytime you want to share what you can’t right now, I’m here. Or even if all you want to do is just sit, not talk and drink wine. I can’t do the wine part because I’m breastfeeding, but I can still sit, not talk and glare at you in envy.”
Nessa snorted in spite of the emotion that resembled a snarled ball of yarn in her belly. Swallowing hard, she parted her lips, and her throat contracted around the words. As if her self-preservation instincts fought the urge to share.
Clearing her throat, she tried again. “My mom, she loved Christmas. It was only us, and a lot of the time she worked most of the season, only having the actual day off. But she still loved it. She used to joke that I got my indifference toward it from my father.”
Nessa used to believe she’d meant Isaac. Had her mother meant the unknown man who’d given her half his DNA?
Not that it mattered then and didn’t now. Her apathy toward Christmas hadn’t had anything to do with genetics and everything to do with an aversion to watching holiday movies, decorating trees and eating meals alone because her mom worked such long hours.
But telling Evelyn that would’ve been like stabbing her in the heart. And Nessa would’ve never hurt her like that. Not when she’d sacrificed so much.
“Oh isn’t this nice. I didn’t know you two were going to be here this afternoon.” Jenna Landon appeared next to them, and Nessa stifled a curse.
She’d only met the tall, beautiful redhead once, at the tree lighting, but that one time had been enough. The mean-girl aura tended to leave a lasting impression. And nothing about the other woman’s red-painted smile or the slightly narrowed eyes changed Nessa’s mind.
“Neecy, was it?” Jenna asked.
Nope. Still bitchy.
“Nessa,” she corrected, calling on visuals of unicorns, puppies and Jack Black TikTok videos to maintain a politeness in her voice. “Nice to see you again.” She turned to the woman standing next to Jenna. “You, too, Olivia.”
“Hi, Nessa.” The woman who had turned Wolf into a living statue returned Nessa’s greeting with a smile that radiated genuine warmth. Damn. How did you dislike a woman who seemed so nice?
Well, she could but it made her a wench.
“Sydney, is this your baby?” Olivia cooed, shifting closer and peering down inside the carrier. “She’s gorgeous.”
“She is,” Jenna murmured, her mouth softening, as did her gaze. “She’s really beautiful.”
Nessa stared at the redhead, shocked at both the compliment and the unexpected display of gentleness. Jenna’s arms flinched, and her fingers curled then straightened, almost as if she were about to reach for the baby, perhaps touch her, but then caught herself. Nessa arched her eyebrows, peered at Jenna, whose gaze remained locked on the child. Did anyone else see the yearning in her eyes? Or was it only Nessa’s imagination?
“Um, thanks,” Sydney said, astonishment coloring her voice.
“She must take after her father,” Jenna purred, her smirk firmly back in place.
And there it was. The return of the bitch.
“Careful, Jenna.” Sydney arched an eyebrow, her tone pleasant, her brown eyes...not. “You wouldn’t want to end up with a tree full of dicks like your father this year.”
Nessa tried to hold in her snicker. Tried and failed. Jenna’s glare swung toward her, and her lips curled into a snarl that promised retribution, but the door to the gym swung open and Wolf entered, preempting her cutting remark.
“Wolf,” Jenna called, waving him over. “Over here.”
Well, damn.
There went her avoid-Wolf plan. It seemed she couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard she tried. And she had. Maybe her effort would be a little more convincing if she could stop staring at him.
But God... Did that man know how to fill a doorway.
Sunday, she’d rested her head on that wide chest as he’d offered her those powerful shoulders to lean on. That big body had provided a buffer against her grief—against the world. And as she peeked at Olivia, she noted the same hunger on her lovely face. Olivia didn’t try to hide the desire that darkened her violet eyes.
The difference between her and Nessa? Olivia knew how it felt to be possessed by Wolf. She didn’t need him to confirm it. No one reacted to a person like he had—or no one watched another person as she watched him—without having been intimate. This woman had been branded by his strength, his passion. She’d been underneath his naked body, covered by it. She knew what it meant to be burned by his need, his pleasure.
Jealousy twisted so hard in Nessa’s belly she clenched her jaw against the wrenching tug of it. In that moment, she resented the hell out of Olivia for having that knowledge. A knowledge Nessa craved. But couldn’t claim for herself.
What the hell? Jealousy? Was she a glutton for misery? She had no business feeling anything close to that emotion. He wasn’t hers. Not even remotely. She didn’t want him to be. She didn’t want anyone.
More accurately, she didn’t need anyone.
Least of all a man who had a woman staring at him as if he were every teenage-vampire and billionaire-fetish fantasy rolled into one.
No, even if she hadn’t already had enough on her plate with figuring out how not to have a panic attack on the job, uncovering a paternity secret and handling a sister-who-wasn’t-a-sister who hated her, the way Olivia looked at him was enough reason not to go there.
Dragging her gaze away from Wolf, away from the bare hunger in Olivia’s gaze, Nessa scanned the gym, desperate for a distraction. From them. From herself.<
br />
She spotted Ivy in the middle of the chaos at one of the tables with the twins and a couple of other kids. As if sensing her attention on her, Ivy looked up and for the first time in a couple of days, she didn’t ignore Nessa. Even across the distance that separated them, Nessa glimpsed the sadness that shadowed Ivy’s eyes. Her breath snagged like a sweater caught on a nail. For an instant, her body swayed in the direction of her sister, the threat of rejection paling in the face of that sorrow.
But then Ivy turned away, giving Nessa her back. She’d been halfway prepared for the rebuff. And yet, she still sucked in a shallow gasp of air, hurt shimmering in her like steam over a hot sidewalk.
His scent hit her first. Wintergreen wrapped in the clean, biting fresh air that still clung to him. She inhaled it, hating that the scent calmed the storm inside her. Hating even more that she wanted to close her eyes and sink into it, let it welcome her, embrace her.
She tilted her head back, already knowing she’d meet a pair of densely lashed emerald eyes. Although she was forearmed with that knowledge, the impact of his gaze still reverberated through her. Lust, hot and fierce, sizzled a path that left her fighting not to tremble in front of witnesses. Maybe if he hadn’t introduced her to the strength of his arms and the powerful shelter of his body... Maybe then the need wouldn’t be as intense. Wouldn’t have her envisioning that hooded stare raking over her as he stroked those big hands with the nicked fingers down her shivering body...
Enough.
She dipped her head on the pretense of—hell, staring at the floor. Unless she enjoyed eye-fucking a man in a gym full of people and Christmas trees, any distraction would have to suffice.
“Hi, Wolf.” Sydney hugged her brother-in-law with the arm not cupped under her napping daughter. “Let me guess. Cole recruited you.”
He snorted. “If that’s what you want to call it. He had me over here earlier hauling in and setting up trees. Something about me owing him. I think your husband is still bitter about the Santa Run ass-kicking.” Leaning down, he brushed a kiss over Patience’s curls, a smile curving his lips before he straightened. Nodding at Jenna and Olivia, he said, “Hey, Jenna, Olivia. Good to see you.”
