A Little Bit of Holiday Magic (9 page)

Stop,
a little voice cautioned.

She knew she should.

Everything she was feeling and thinking was telling her to stop.

But she didn’t want to stop.

Grace didn’t know if she’d ever be kissed this way again. She wanted to make the most of it while she could.

Tongues tangled and danced.

She ran her hands over the muscular ridges of his back and through his damp hair. She couldn’t get enough of Bill’s kisses, of him.

She was...home.

Panic ripped through her.

Not home. A temporary place. In temporary arms.

He cupped her bottom, pulling her even closer.

She went eagerly, pressing against him. She arched—

“Mommy?”

Grace jumped back as if she’d been shocked by ten thousand volts.

She turned to see Liam, his hair sticking up. He stood in the hallway, holding Peanut against his heart.

Oh, no.
She covered her bruised and throbbing lips with her hands. Tried to calm her breathing, cool the heat in her cheeks, pull down the bottom of her shirt.

Bill, his breathing as ragged as hers, walked over to her son and knelt. “What’s up, little dude?”

Liam stared at the ground. “Peanut woke up. Mommy wasn’t there.”

Bill touched the stuffed animal. “As you can see, Peanut, your mommy’s right here.”

Liam nodded.

Grace pulled herself together and joined them. Kneeling in turn, she touched his shoulder. “Did you wonder where I was?”

Another nod.

She hugged him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there beside you, but it wasn’t my bedtime yet.”

Liam wrapped his arms around her neck. “Sleep. Sleep.”

The last thing she wanted to do was sleep. That meant she should go to bed. “We can sleep now.”

She was a mom—Liam’s mom. Her son needed her and she needed him. Even if her lips wanted more kisses.

More kisses weren’t a smart idea.

The hunger in Bill’s eyes matched the way she felt inside. Thank goodness Liam had woken up, or things might have gone further than she intended. “I need to get him to bed.”

“I know.” Bill brushed his hand over Liam’s hair. “Sleep tight, bud.”

The little boy’s thumb was in his mouth. His eyelids drooped.

Bill cupped Grace’s face. “We’ll talk about this later.”

She’d tried hard to set a good example for Liam, but tonight...

Heat spread up her neck. She couldn’t believe her son had caught her making out with the big dude.

Grace stood, then carried Liam to the guest bedroom. She glanced back at Bill. “Let’s forget it ever happened.”

“I won’t be forgetting anytime soon.”

Neither would she. But she would have to try.

The bedroom door was open. She stepped inside the room. “Good night.”

Bill stood in the doorway. “Sweet dreams.”

His gaze, full of desire, made her shiver with want.

Darn the man. She’d likely be having hot dreams because of his toe-curling kisses. “See you in the morning.”

“I’ll be seeing you sooner.” He winked. “In my dreams.”

Her mouth dropped open. She stood with her son in her arms, her heart roaring in her ears.

Wicked laughter lit his eyes. Bill twisted the lock on her side of the knob. “Good night, Liam. Gracie.”

He closed the door. The latched clicked.

Gracie?
No one called her Gracie. Oh, they’d tried. Damon had given up and called her babe. She’d been named Grace and that was what she wanted to hear.

But the name didn’t sound so bad coming from Bill’s lips.

She laid Liam and Peanut on the bed and covered them with the sheet and comforter. Her son was sound asleep in a minute.

Grace changed into an Iowa Hawkeyes nightshirt.

Bill Paulson spelled ten types of trouble. He might be a good guy, but his kisses had Bad Boy scribbled all over them. Fun for a moment, dangerous for any longer.

She was clever enough to know better than to mess around with a man like him.

But clever or not, she wanted to kiss the bad boy again. And again. And again.

What was she going to do?

It’ll be okay, babe.

“Quiet.”

Usually, she welcomed Damon’s words and the assurance they promised, but not tonight.

Not when her lips throbbed, not when her heart ached, not when she wanted to fall asleep in another man’s arms.

Not any man’s. Bill’s.

Grace covered Liam with another blanket. He didn’t stir.

She would brush her teeth, floss, wash her face, then crawl under the covers to hide. She might not be able to forget the kisses she’d shared with Bill, but maybe she could pretend those kisses had never happened, that she imagined or dreamed them.

That would allow her to sleep.

And she needed sleep. Almost as much as she’d needed kisses.

* * *

Bill leaned against the wall next to the guest bedroom door. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing in the hallway. He didn’t care.

He couldn’t remember how many women he’d dated, how many women he’d kissed. But not one had made him want all of her—mind, body and soul—like Grace Wilcox.

He’d felt like a randy teen kissing her, almost losing control, falling over the edge and embarrassing both of them. Well, him.

That had never happened before.

Not even the first time making out with Maggie Freeman in the storeroom of her father’s general store on Main Street.

Thanks to Grace, Bill ached with need. He wanted to touch her again, hold her again, taste her again. He shouldn’t feel that way about any woman, especially one with a kid. He was too much like his dad to be a forever type family guy. But when she’d touched him, he’d gone mad with desire. When she’d kissed him, he’d struggled to remain in control. When she’d kept kissing him, he hadn’t wanted to stop.

The guest bedroom door opened.

Crap.
Bill straightened.

Grace stepped into the hallway. Her long brown hair was messy and tangled, as if she’d changed quickly. A baggy nightshirt hid delicious curves, but the knee-length hem gave him a great view of her calves.

Toned muscle. Smooth, pale skin.

Sexy.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was getting turned on looking at her lower legs.

They were great calves, though.

She left the door ajar.

“Forget something?” He tried sounding casual, as if he hadn’t been skulking outside her door, fantasizing.

Grace drew back. Her brow furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“Thinking about you.”

She started to speak, then pressed her lips together. Her gaze bounced from Bill to the guest bedroom door. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to Liam.”

She hurried past Bill, like a gust of wind roaring through the Columbia Gorge. Only this squall swirled around him with a sweet aroma of jasmine and vanilla.

The bathroom door closed. Locked.

Bill fought disappointment and rising frustration. He should have said something different, something more. But retreating wasn’t an option. He needed to figure out what was going on.

Maybe he’d misjudged the impact of her kisses. Blown them out of proportion. He hadn’t kissed a woman in over a week. He could be imaging things to be better than they were. That would explain his over-the-top reaction.

Bill needed to get her and her kisses out of his system. He knew exactly how to do that.

Kiss her again.

One more kiss would disprove this nonsense. Another kiss would be nice. Special, even. But not enough to change his world—his perfect world.

Kissing her again was a good plan. If Grace agreed...

Minutes ticked by.

Bill waited. He wasn’t the kind of guy to swan dive into a foot of water over some woman, let alone a kiss.

All Hood Hamlet, including your mom, knows you’re a heartbreaker.

Welton’s words echoed in Bill’s head. He’d worn the title of heartbreaker like a badge of honor, stepping into the role after Jake Porter and Sean Hughes married. Being called a player brought a rush of pride. Everyone knew, everyone expected that kind of behavior from him.

Everyone but Grace.

Bill didn’t want her to find out about his reputation. She didn’t seem the type to be impressed by his womanizing, even though he got involved only with women who understood the rules and how he felt about relationships. But Grace might not absolve him of responsibility for any resulting broken hearts.

Not that she had anything to worry about. He would be careful and keep her safe.

But he needed to know if her kisses really made him feel so incredible, so invincible. Or if the December dating hiatus made him kiss-hungry for any pretty woman.

Testing his hypothesis, as his friend volcanologist Sarah Purcell would say, made sense. Another kiss—a test one—wouldn’t take long.

The door to the bathroom opened.

His pulse jolted like a Thoroughbred out of the starting gate. But he was feeling like the long shot in the race.

Standing in the doorway, Grace sucked in a breath. “You’re still here.”

“I want to talk.” Not exactly true, but saying “I want to kiss” might freak her out.

“Liam might wake up.” She glanced at the bedroom door. “I should get in there.”

She should, but Bill didn’t want her to go. Not yet. “It won’t take long.”

The bridge of Grace’s nose crinkled, matching the creases on her forehead. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What?”

Truth time. “I want to finish what we started.”

She wet her lips. Her eyes darkened, but he couldn’t tell if that was due to annoyance or desire. “Here?”

Bill nodded, itching to reach for her.

She looked down at the hardwood floor. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea.” Her pulse point, visible at the V of her neckline, beat rapidly. So she wasn’t so immune to the charged air between them. Anticipation made him smile. “Think of it as a test. Kissing again will allow us to see it’s no big deal.”

“You thought it was a big deal?”

“I’m not sure what to think right now.”

“That makes two of us. But you shouldn’t kiss me again.”

“No more kissing?” Bill leaned closer, near enough that she could feel his warm breath against her. “In case you forgot, Gracie, you kissed me.”

She flushed. “True, but you kissed me back.”

“A gentleman always kisses back.”

“That’s why you did it? You were being polite?”

His words had hit a nerve with her.

“I’m joking.” He raised her chin with his fingertips. “I had to kiss you because were standing under mistletoe.”

Grace glanced back at the living room. “There’s no... You think this is funny.”

“It is funny. You’re funny.” He let go of her face. “After we kiss, we’ll know. We can have a good laugh about all this and move on.”

“I have a feeling I’m being led into a trap.”

“Never.”

Indecision and doubt filled her eyes. “One kiss.”

Excitement built in Bill’s chest. “One is all I’m asking for.”

He lowered his mouth to hers.

Their lips met, soft as a whisper at dawn.

A spark jolted through him. Forget a faint sound, this kiss was an in-your-face, ear-shattering shout.

Exactly like before.

Tingles erupted. Blood boiled. Sensations pulsed through him.

Even more than their first kiss.

She tasted like peppermint, her toothpaste. And warm, like her caring, giving heart.

He was the one caught in a trap, snared by Grace’s kiss. He wanted to keep kissing her, but he would keep his word. He’d said one. That was all he would take.

At least tonight.

Bill slowly, regretfully drew it to an end. Not a fluke. He hasn’t been imagining things. He hadn’t blown anything out of proportion.

Grace’s kisses were different. Better. Sexier. Hotter. And the reason he’d been struggling to think straight. “Thanks.”

“Satisfied?”

“Very,” he admitted. “I figured out what I needed to know.”

“Me, too.” Without meeting his eyes, she slipped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

“Good night, Gracie.”

He touched his lips.

One more kiss was not going to be enough.

Bill knew that without an ounce of uncertainty.

Kisses like this didn’t happen every day. They would be fools to waste her time stuck in Hood Hamlet.

All he had to do was convince Grace they could be together without him breaking her heart. He would be careful not to hurt her. He
couldn’t
hurt her. But the longing in her eyes, on her lips, told him she needed kisses as much as he did.

Maybe even more.

CHAPTER NINE

T
HE
 
NEXT
 
AFTERNOON
, Grace walked along Hood Hamlet’s wooden sidewalk with Bill. Christmas lights twinkled in store windows. Snippets of carols drifted out of shops with the opening and closing of doors. Snow fell from the darkening skies, matching the storm brewing inside her.

She stole a sideways glance at Bill, taking in his wool beanie, red plaid parka, gray cargo pants and boots. So handsome, all rugged and outdoorsy and male. She wished she wouldn’t notice how he dressed. She wished she could stop thinking about kissing him.

Bill was obviously over their kisses. He hadn’t mentioned a word about last night as they’d driven down the mountain this morning and checked out vehicles in the towns of Gresham and Sandy. He hadn’t brought up the kisses while sharing a pepperoni-and-mushroom pizza at a small Italian café on their way back up the mountain.

The kisses must have scored “no big deal” on his test.

She would have given them an A+. She’d been up half the night reliving every moment and wanting more.

Grace adjusted the scarf around her neck for the third time in ten minutes. Time to move on. She needed to stop tying herself in knots about what happened last night. She should be happy Bill was taking time on his day off to look at cars and show her Hood Hamlet. Not many people would do that. At least not for her.

Two teenage boys strutted toward them, a swagger to their steps and snowboards resting on their shoulders. The words Hood Hamlet Snowboarding Academy were embroidered on their jackets.

“Those dudes aren’t going to get out of our way.” Bill slipped his arm around Grace’s waist, then pulled her toward a coffee shop. “Wouldn’t want you to get knocked down.”

Too late. Kissing him had knocked her flat on her face. His touch threatened to do the same thing.

Grace wore a camisole and sweater under her, well, Bill’s jacket. In spite of three layers of clothing, tingles and warmth made her all too aware of his hand on her. Of course, having his muscular body against her and his hot breath on her neck weren’t helping.

The way he protected her, putting himself between her and the teenagers, sent her pulse sprinting. She’d been taking care of herself for so long, she’d forgotten how nice it was not to have to do everything. Bill made her feel special, treasured.

The snowboarders passed, dropping four letter words like confetti.

“Dudes,” Bill called to the boys. “Remember your manners. Doubt you want Johnny to know you’re prowling Main Street like a couple of gangstas.”

The teens nodded sheepishly. Apologized. Ran.

Grace watched them disappear around the corner, trying to compose herself. “Whoever Johnny is must instill great fear in those kids.”

Bill edged away from her. “A little fear, but Johnny Gearhart aims for respect. He’s a former snowboarding champion and runs the school.”

She fell into step with Bill, ignoring the urge to take his hand. That was what she would have done walking next to Damon. Funny and disconcerting that she wanted to do the same thing now.

“So what do you think of Hood Hamlet?”

“Charming.” The Alpine village defined the word, especially with the buildings and streets decked out for the holidays. Garlands and lights draped the storefronts. Wreaths hung on windows and doors. The old-fashioned streetlamps were wrapped in red and white strips like candy canes. “The town looks like a Christmas card.”

“It does, but Hood Hamlet’s beautiful no matter what time of year.” He glanced around with a satisfied look on his face. “I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.”

“I can see why.” She watched a man dart across the road to pick up a dropped package for a woman juggling shopping bags. “The people seem nice, too.”

“We have a few grumpy old-timers who yell at kids. A Scrooge or two who like to hear themselves say ‘Bah-humbug’ every December, and some teens who make trouble, but the majority are hardworking, good-natured folks.”

Two men in a snowboard shop waved to a woman on the sidewalk outside.

Grace had been to Main Street twice. Each time this quaint town called to her—to her heart—like no other place she’d lived. “I wonder if Astoria’s like this.”

“Astoria is bigger, but you’ll find friendly people. You might have to look harder.”

She stopped in front of a window display with a “hill” made of white cottony fabric and an old-fashioned toboggan. “Probably won’t find much snow there.”

No snowmen or snowball fights or snow angels. She sighed, already missing Hood Hamlet.

Bill shot her a sideways glance. “Thinking you might want to stick around town awhile?”

Heat flamed in her cheeks. She wasn’t one to long for what she couldn’t have. She continued along the sidewalk. “Just making conversation.”

“That’s what you were doing last night.”

He meant at the brewpub, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of his skin, the touch of his hands, the taste of his lips.

Do. Not. Go. There.

She cleared her dry throat. “Liam’s never had a white Christmas.”

“He needs to have one. Spend Christmas in Hood Hamlet.”

Her gaze jerked to him. “I wasn’t fishing for an invitation.”

“I know, but I’m inviting you. Experience Hood Hamlet at its finest. You might see Christmas magic in action.”

She let his words sink in. Appealing, yes. Practical, no. “But the twenty-fifth...”

“Is only a week away.”

Snow was the reason she was stuck in Hood Hamlet, though the truck’s engine might have given out, anyway. The thought of a white Christmas was enticing. This town might not be magical, but it was darn close to a TV Christmas movie setting. The memories made here would last forever. But that would mean more time being tempted by Bill and his kisses. Talk about dangerous. “I...”

“Do you have a place to stay in Astoria?”

Her stomach tensed. “No, but there are temporary rentals available.”

“What about a job?”

“No. But thanks to Damon’s life insurance and monthly survivor benefit checks, I don’t need one right away. I have a degree in accounting and plan on looking for a part-time position once we’re settled. Maybe find something during the tax season.”

Too long an explanation when a no would have sufficed, but being around Bill made her nervous. She rattled on like a forgotten kettle.

He waved to someone driving by in a blue pickup. “Know anybody in Astoria?”

This one was simple to answer. “No.”

“Then why do you need to be there for Christmas?”

Grace didn’t. Bill skillfully had her cornered. If she and her son stayed here, Liam could play in the snow after opening his presents. They would be celebrating the holiday in a house with a fireplace to hang stockings on Christmas Eve. She could explain to Liam how Santa came down the chimney. All positives, except... “I don’t want to overstay our welcome.”

“It’s not like you’ll be here forever.”

No, but forever didn’t sound so bad.

She shook some sense into herself.

Forever was as much a fantasy as Christmas magic.

“Stay until the twenty-sixth,” he suggested.

“The twenty-sixth?”

“That would give you twelve days in Hood Hamlet. Perfect amount of time, given the holiday season.”

She wouldn’t go that far. Having an end date made her feel better, but something remained unspoken. The elephant in the room, but its name wasn’t Peanut. “What about, um, last night?”

“You mean us kissing?”

She glanced around. “Shhh. Someone might hear you.”

“Kissing isn’t against the law.”

“I felt like I was breaking a few laws.”

He eyed her with interest. “Oh, really.”

Darn. She hadn’t meant to say the words aloud. “Isn’t that a pretty wreath hanging on the candy shop?”

“Don’t change the subject.” He pulled her into an alcove next to the hardware store. “I want you to stay in Hood Hamlet for two reasons. The first is your son. He needs a white Christmas. The second is I want to spend more time with you. There’s something between us.”

Her heart bumped. Then reality set in. “When we kiss?”

“You felt it, too.”

“I did.”

“Let’s explore the chemistry and enjoy each other while you’re in town.”

He made being strictly physical sound so easy. But the thought of getting closer terrified her. “What happens when it’s over?”

“You go to Astoria like you planned. Until then we’ll have fun.”

Fun. She had a feeling they had different definitions of the word.

“I don’t—” she lowered her voice “—sleep around. I’ve only been with...”

“Your husband.”

She nodded.

“I respect that. I respect you.” Bill gazed into her eyes, placed his arms on either side of her with his palms against the wall. “Most people underestimate me, but I’m a man of my word. I won’t ask you to do something you’re not ready for or don’t want. But I’m not going to lie. Kissing you was one of the highlights of my year. And it’s been a very good year. I’d like to indulge in a few more kisses, if you’re game.”

She was. But she’d never approached kissing so casually before. Not with Damon. Not with Kyle. “What if I want to stay for Christmas, but I’m not sure about...us?”

The word
us
sounded funny coming from her lips.

“I want you and Liam to stay no matter what you decide about you and me. Don’t answer right now. Think about it.”

Grace had a feeling all she would be doing was thinking about it. Imagining it. Craving it. “I will. Thanks.”

“Come on. I want to show you something.” Bill grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. “Welton Wines & Chocolates is up ahead.”

The change of topic brought welcome relief. “The name sounds delicious.”

“Christian makes the wines. His cousin Owen is a chocolatier.”

“Sounds like two people you want to have as friends.”

“Want to go in?” Bill asked.

That sounded better than debating his offer. “I’d rather not miss out on two of my favorite things. But first we should see if your mother minds staying with Liam a little longer.”

“No worries. She sent me a text saying not to come home. They’re decorating sugar cookies.”

Grace’s throat clogged with emotion. Her parents had returned his birth notice, unread. Damon’s parents had chosen not to be a part of Liam’s life. Anger, then grief, had severed the ties completely. Her son had never decorated Christmas cookies with a doting grandmother, had no idea what that would be like. Not until today. The Paulson family’s kindness overwhelmed Grace. “I don’t want to take advantage of your mom.”

“My mom’s loving this,” Bill said. “She gets lonely, especially when I’m not around. I call and text when I’m working, or if I’m not planning to see her.”

“Thoughtful of you.”

“I’d like to think so, but she’s not happy with me. Chewed me out the other night in the brewpub.”

“Why?”

“My mom has strong opinions about my behavior. Especially with women.”

“I’m sure that can be a pain, but there are worse things. My parents only cared about me when I did what they wanted.”

Bill gave the boardwalk a scuffing kick. “I still can’t believe they won’t see you.”

Resignation fought with loss. She shrugged.

He huffed out a grunt that sounded like “their loss.” Then he smiled, making her feel warmer inside. “After hearing about your parents, I shouldn’t complain about my dad. He’s great at what he does, which is why he’s in such high demand far away from us. It’s like having a part-time dad. There but kind of not.”

Grace nodded. “Sometimes you just have to look at what you have, not what you lost. If you’re like your dad in any way, he must be an okay guy. And your mom...she wants to do whatever she can for you. You’re lucky to have so many people who love you.”

Bill was quiet, his head bobbing slightly, before he looked at her thoughtfully. “You’re a kind woman, Grace. My dad will like you. I hope he makes it home for Christmas this year so you can meet him. And I appreciate what my mom does. I am lucky, but I wish she had others to mother hen.”

“Your mom likes being with Liam. Maybe you could find other kids for her to spend time with and help.”

“Great idea.” Bill opened the door. A bell jingled. A smile spread across his face. “Liam would like this place.”

“He’d like the bell.” The aromas of chocolate and wine filled the air. “And the chocolate.”

Bill’s eyes twinkled, like Santa here to make her Christmas wishes come true. “What do you like?”

You. Strike that.
“Dark and red.”

“Bill, Grace.” Leanne waved from a back table where she sat with two women. “Come join us.”

Grace followed Bill past the display of handmade chocolates on one side and a wine bar on the other to an area of café tables.

Leanne rose. “Grace Wilcox, I want you to meet Zoe Hughes and Carly Porter. Two of my closest friends.”

“Nice to meet you.” Zoe Hughes was a beautiful woman with long, shiny brown hair, designer clothes and a large baby bump. “I’d stand, but my back has been killing me all day. I think this kid will be our first and last. Hard to believe I still have more than three months to go before this little one arrives.”

Grace smiled. “I remember that feeling. Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.”

Carly nodded, her blond ponytail bouncing. A stylish and very pretty woman, she wore a purple sweater with a colorful scarf artfully tied. “Maybe when they go to college it’ll happen again.”

“Let’s not go there.” Zoe touched her round belly. “I can’t even imagine the terrible twos.”

“Don’t,” Grace and Carly said at the same time.

Leanne shivered. “I’ll stick to babysitting.”

Grace noticed they were gift wrapping rectangular boxes in red foil paper, white satin ribbon and a sprig of holly. “Getting ready for the holidays?”

“My wedding,” Leanne said. “My friend Sarah came up with the idea for these favor boxes. I thought I had everything finished, until she asked me to send her a pic of them wrapped.”

“So we’re wrapping,” Carly said.

Zoe held up a roll of ribbon. “And decorating.”