by Noelle Adams
“What?” Her droopiness completely forgotten, she hurried out to the porch steps to look. She whimpered as she saw one of the large branches from the big oak tree in the front yard had broken off and crashed down onto the low picket fence that lined the sidewalk. “Oh no! It wasn’t like that when I came home.”
“It must have just happened. Some of these gusts have been pretty strong. You want me to take care of it for you?” Fitz sounded laid-back. Matter-of-fact. It was strangely comforting. “I can haul off the branch and fix the fence.”
“That would be nice. Not tomorrow or anything. No need to mess with it on Christmas. But maybe a couple of days from now.”
“I can do it now. Won’t take long. I probably won’t be able to get the fence perfect, but I can rig something until I get all the materials.”
“Fitz, it’s Christmas Eve!” Belinda hugged her arms to her chest, suddenly conscious that she was wearing her soft red pajamas. They covered her as much as any clothes would have done, but she still felt very undressed.
“So what? I’ve got nothing else to do. No need to have this mess in your yard, bothering you all through Christmas.”
It would bother her. A lot. No matter how much she would have told herself not to worry about it. In fact, it would probably bug her to such an extent that she’d go out tomorrow morning and try to clean it up herself. She hated for anything in the house to be so completely out of order.
“Are you sure?” she asked, peering up at Fitz’s bland face. “You really don’t have to. I’m sure you’d rather... do something else.”
His blue eyes met hers without wavering. “Belinda, seriously. I’d rather do this for you than anything else I have available.”
She swallowed hard, strangely touched for no reason she could understand. She nodded and gave him a little smile. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Won’t take long. I’ll just use the tools in your shed if you don’t mind. Now go on in. You look like you’re about to freeze to death.”
She wasn’t really freezing, although the wind was chilly. She was mostly hugging her arms to her because she wasn’t wearing a bra and she was afraid Fitz might notice even beneath the thick material of her top.
She went inside but watched through the window as, for the next twenty minutes, Fitz removed the large branch. Cut it up into a neat pile in the corner of the yard. Then tacked up the broken piece of fence so that it stayed put. She’d need some new boards to replace a few broken ones, but Fitz’s improvisation would work fine for a week or so. She felt a lot better when he finished up, like her world wasn’t falling apart.
Fitz carried the tools around the house to the shed in the backyard and then came to her back door. Since she’d been watching him, she opened it before he had to knock.
“Thank you so much,” she told him, smiling with genuine affection. “It looks great. I really appreciate it.”
He smiled back at her, his eyes warm and watchful. “You’re welcome. I’ll come over the day after tomorrow with the stuff I need to fix it up right.”
“Here. I’ll give you some money so—”
“Oh no. Don’t you dare offer to pay me.”
“But you—”
“I did it because I wanted to. It wasn’t a job.”
There was no arguing with that look in his eyes. “Okay. Thank you. Can I at least give you some hot chocolate and cookies? Or I could make you something if you haven’t—”
“I ate something earlier, but I wouldn’t say no to hot chocolate and cookies.” He glanced behind her. “But I don’t want to interrupt your Christmas Eve.”
She snorted and stepped out of the way, feeling excited for the first time all week. “What exactly would you be interrupting? My time alone in front of the TV?”
His eyes widened as he let his jacket slide off his shoulders. He was wearing a worn pine-green sweater beneath it with his old gray pants. “Are you on your own tonight?”
“Of course I am. Ria and Jacob are with their new baby, and I don’t have any other family.” Belinda suddenly felt nervous in addition to the bubbling elation. Was she really alone with Fitz in her kitchen at almost ten o’clock at night? She distracted herself by stirring up the hot chocolate for him.
“I guess I thought you might be...” He trailed off, looking suddenly confused as he leaned against one of the counters. “Don’t you have something going with Charles Kensington?”
That surprised her enough to divert her from her nerves. “No! I don’t have something going with him. Why would you think that?”
“Wasn’t that what your whole makeover thing was for? Because you were into him?” His expression was strange. Like he was trying to act with his normal leisurely nonchalance, but real urgency was practically jumping out of his skin.
“I’m not into him,” she replied with a little sniff, stirring the hot chocolate more vigorously than was required. “I barely know him.”
“Aren’t you going out with him now?”
“No! Did someone say we were?”
“Nobody did. I just assumed... Did you change your mind about him?” His voice had grown almost thick.
It made Belinda want to shiver, so she resolutely avoided his gaze. “I haven’t changed my mind about anything. He seems like a perfectly nice guy. But I can hardly start dating someone who hasn’t even asked me out.”
“He hasn’t asked you out? Why not?”
The astonishment in his voice was strangely comforting. Belinda found enough courage to turn back around and meet his eyes. “I have no idea. I have to assume he’s not interested in me, so my whole makeover thing, as you so eloquently put it, was a total waste.”
“You never needed it, but if you liked how you looked, then why would it be a waste?”
Belinda thought about that. Then she gave a firm nod. “You’re right. It wasn’t a waste. I actually feel strange with a lot of makeup on and with some of the stylish clothes. But I guess it’s nice to feel a little bit pretty. Sometimes.” She lowered her eyes as she felt her cheeks warm.
“You’re a lot pretty,” he murmured, sticking his hands in his pockets with an odd, abrupt move. “All the time.”
She’d darted up a quick glance. Saw something deep and tender and shocking in his expression. She was hot and breathless as she held the mug of hot chocolate with both hands so she wouldn’t slop it from trembling too much.
The silence stretched out a little too long. She had no idea what Fitz was thinking, and she was too scared to check his expression again.
Finally he asked softly, “Is that hot chocolate for me?”
“Oh. Yes.” She blinked and swallowed and smiled sheepishly as she handed it to him. “Sorry. Here you go. And I’ve got a plate of cookies in the other room if you want any. Not to brag, but they’re pretty darn good.”
“I’m sure they are. I’ll have to try them out.” He was chuckling as he carried his mug into the living room.
Belinda followed him, relieved (and maybe a little disappointed) that the delicious tension from the moment before had dissipated.
“How did you even happen to see the fallen tree branch?” she asked as she took her place on the couch.
Fitz stood undecided for a few seconds, glancing between the other side of the couch and the chair across the room.
Belinda wasn’t sure what it said about her, but she didn’t want him all the way across the room. She gestured toward the couch. “The cookies are here, if you want them.”
He relaxed and sat down on the other end of the couch. Then reached over and took his time in choosing his first cookie. As he did, he answered her earlier question, “I’d stayed for a while talking to folks at church and was just walking back home when I happened to see it. I knew it would bother you, so I thought I’d check.”
“Why did you walk in weather like this? Is something wrong with your car?”
“No. It’s fine. I like to walk. It takes up more time and sometimes I see people to say hi to.”
“Do you get lonely?” she asked, thinking about what he said and what it might mean. He liked to walk because it took up more time. He wouldn’t be back at home so quickly.
“Everyone does sometimes,” he said lightly.
He was putting her off. Not really answering. She said, “It’s Christmas Eve. Being alone is a little harder on nights like this.”
He nodded, chewing slowly on his soft ginger cookie. “Yeah.” Then he frowned and added, “Why are you alone tonight? You’ve got tons of friends and people who love you.”
“I know I do. Ria wanted me to come over, but I didn’t want to... to get in the way of their family time.” She sighed and swirled the last bit of her hot chocolate in her mug. It was cool now, and she didn’t really want to finish it. “Ria’s got a new family now.”
“You’re still her family, Belinda.”
Her eyes burned for just a minute. “I know. But it’s not the same. I guess I’ve just been... missing my parents. It’s been years since they died, and it hasn’t bothered me like this for a long time. But there’s something about losing people suddenly like that. It’s such a shock that it doesn’t hit you all at once. You haven’t had time to process it and adapt. And so it’s like it’s happening over and over again. For a really long time.” She couldn’t quite keep the tears back, so she used her fingertips to wipe a couple away.
“I know.”
She looked over at his gravelly tone. “Did you lose someone suddenly?”
“I lost everyone suddenly,” he told her. “My parents and my sister.”
“What?” Her voice cracked as she reached over to put a hand on his knee. “Fitz, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Was it a car accident like my parents?”
“A different sort of accident. But it was just as sudden. I know how it feels. I know, Belinda.” He covered her hand on his knee with one of his own.
She wanted to ask him more questions, but she didn’t want to force him to open up. So she didn’t push it. They sat that way for a minute, and the warm strength of his hand on hers was like a lifeline.
Until he finally withdrew it.
She pulled her hand back quickly. “I was watching White Christmas,” she said, suddenly self-conscious of the intimacy between them when it had never existed before. “Do you like that movie?”
“Sure. But I don’t have to stay if you’d rather—”
“I’d like you to stay.”
He nodded and reached for another cookie while she started up the movie. They finished it and then started another Christmas musical.
They finished the plate of cookies, and before the second movie was over, Belinda had fallen asleep.
Five
FITZ WOKE UP ON THE couch with Belinda all over him.
All. Over. Him.
She’d fallen asleep during the second movie and had unconsciously leaned over against his shoulder. Although he’d known he should have rearranged them since she’d never have gotten cuddly with him like that if she was awake, he’d liked it so much he’d stayed completely still, enjoying the warmth of her body, the soft flutter of her hair, the rhythm of her breathing.
He’d intended to indulge himself for only a few minutes before he gently moved her back over and got up to go home. But the few minutes stretched out to more until he was closing his eyes and adjusting his legs. At some point, he’d gone to sleep too.
Which was how he’d ended up there—stretched out on Belinda’s sofa with her sleeping body on top of him.
He was stiff. One foot and one arm were asleep. He was overly hot, and Belinda’s long, loose hair was tickling his neck.
And he was hard.
Achingly, throbbingly hard.
He choked back a groan as he processed his condition and the fact that Belinda was completely unconscious of the way she was snuggling into his body.
She felt so good. Soft and hot and feminine and sensual. She smelled faintly like vanilla and peppermint—some combination of the hair and body products she must have used. He wanted to keep holding her. Keep breathing her in. He wanted to rub his pulsing body against hers hard and fast.
He wanted...
A lot of things he wasn’t allowed to have.
With a surge of bleak will, he managed to lift her up and ease her off him so he could extricate his body. Although he tried to be careful, the motion woke her up. She gasped and blinked and lifted her head as Fitz lurched stiffly to his feet.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“Sorry. We fell asleep.”
“We did? What time is it?” She was utterly delectable—tousled and groggy and confused.
He had to literally turn his back to her in order to keep himself from reaching down and pulling her into his arms. “I don’t know. Late. Or early.” He remembered he had a phone in his pocket, so he pulled it out to look. “It’s just after five. Christmas morning.”
“Oh.” She still hadn’t fully woken up, and the proof was in the way her face softened as she gazed up at him. “Merry Christmas, Fitz.”
He made a choked sound and turned away again. This was not good. Not for his body and not for his heart. People weren’t made to want this much and never have hope of being satisfied.
“Fitz?” She was getting up off the couch. He could hear the shift in her position, even though he still didn’t dare to look.
“Merry Christmas,” he managed to grit out.
“Are you okay? You didn’t have to stay with me all night. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable or it’s made it weird and awkward now.”
“It’s fine.” He had to look at her. If he didn’t, she’d figure out what was going on with him. Or, even worse, he’d end up hurting her feelings. “It’s not weird or awkward. People fall asleep sometimes.”
“I didn’t snore or do anything embarrassing, did I?” She was searching his face, as if she were trying to read his mind.
He couldn’t possibly let her read it right now. The tidal wave of hunger, desire, and need she would find there would terrify her. “No,” he managed to say in a semblance of his normal voice. “You didn’t do anything embarrassing. Or, if you did, I wasn’t awake to see it.”
She laughed softly, darting him a quick, shy look that nearly knocked the breath out of him. “Okay. Well, you can get going if you need to. Thanks for all your help last night.”
“You’re welcome.” He took a deep breath, relieved that escape was in sight but also having to fight to turn toward the door. “It was no problem. Merry Christmas.”
She was smiling again. Like she genuinely appreciated him. Like he was special. Like he mattered to her in a way he’d never dreamed. “Merry Christmas to you too.” She went to the door and opened it as he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and walk away from her.
He’d made it out into the cold, damp air and to the porch steps when she stopped him by saying, “Fitz.”
He turned his head back toward her but not his body. He didn’t dare do that. “Yes?”
“Thank you,” she murmured, meeting his gaze. “Seriously. Thank you for everything. For helping with the fence. For making me feel better. For staying with me. Thank you. It... it meant a lot.”
He gulped. Nodded because he didn’t dare let himself speak for a few seconds. He finally managed to get out, “You’re welcome.”
Then he left her before he did what he really wanted. Kiss her and never stop.
HE WENT TO CHECK ON his temporary repairs on the fence before he left the yard. Belinda was already back inside as he was closing the little gate to the picket fence.
When he turned back to the street, he suddenly realized he wasn’t alone. There was a man there. Paused in front of Belinda’s house. Dressed for jogging. Puffing from exercise.
“Hey, Ken,” Fitz said, trying to sound casual even though his heart had leaped into his throat as if he were a teenager caught out after curfew. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah.” Ken was the sheriff an
d had a laid-back aura of quiet authority that was very effective. “Woke up for some reason so I thought I’d run early before Madeline gets up.”
He sounded relaxed, but even in the dim streetlight, Fitz could see his eyes moving from his face to Belinda’s house.
“Nothing happened,” Fitz blurted out.
Ken wiped his forehead with the back of his forearm and smiled. “Not my business.”
“I know. But the last thing Belinda would want is for folks to start to gossip about something that never happened. She’d hate that.”
“Never gossiped in my life.” Ken was almost certainly telling him the truth.
“I know. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything. She’d get upset about it, and then she might not ever talk to me again.” Fitz hated the way his voice broke slightly on the last word, but he simply couldn’t control it. He could suddenly see a likely future spinning out from his indulgence last night, and it was a nightmare.
He knew he couldn’t have her. He didn’t have anything to offer her.
But he couldn’t bear the idea of not having her in his life at all. In any way.
“I won’t say anything,” Ken replied in a different tone. Almost gentle, as if he sensed he had to tread carefully to avoid emotional land mines. “But have you ever thought about...?”
“What?”
“Just going for it.”
Fitz’s eyes had strayed back to the house behind him—where Belinda was inside in her cozy red pajamas and loose hair and warm, soft eyes. But at Ken’s question, his gaze shot back to the other man. “Going for it?”
“You know. Going for it. You’re obviously interested, so why not try?”
This was getting ridiculous. Did everyone in this damn town know about Fitz’s feelings for Belinda? “There’s no point.”
“Why not? How do you know if you don’t try? Belinda isn’t like anyone else. She could have had her pick of half the guys in town, but she never gave them any encouragement, so they were all too chicken to try.”
