Hot eyes on hers. Warm hands on her breasts, her torso, between her thighs. Gentle lips trailing their path. Pleasure tore through her, tightening her skin, moisture pooling between her legs, turning her nipples into hard points.
Then he was lifting her onto the bed, tugging her shoes and pants.
And the next moment was perfect.
Holding her close as he slipped inside.
Patient, coaxing strokes, driving her higher and higher . . . until she exploded. Until he followed her, her name on his tongue. He gentled her down, continued to hold her tightly, and then as the moon began to set on Christmas morning, they finally slipped into sleep.
It was the best day of her life.
And also the worst.
Thirteen
Dale
In the morning, he woke up to a silent bunkhouse.
Elizabeth had gone.
Left him while he was sleeping after the best day of his life.
“Fuck,” he whispered, throwing his stuff into his bag, making his way through the new coating of snow that had fallen overnight, and stopping by the house to return the coats he’d commandeered. The gaggle of kids were tearing through the mountain of gifts beneath the tree, and he crossed the war zone in order to hug Kel and say goodbye.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Fine,” he said, even though he felt anything but fine. He was unsettled, confused, and a little annoyed that Elizabeth hadn’t even said goodbye.
She was probably the smart one, cutting off the contact when it wasn’t going to ever go anywhere with them.
But . . . he’d wanted a little bit more time.
“I’m sorry again about the—”
“If you apologize for the doorknob again, I’ll never fix another car of yours.”
“Dale!”
“It was a freak one-time thing,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Let it go.”
Kel wrinkled her nose. “I’m still—”
He bopped her on that cute nose. “Hush.”
“Rude!”
“Bye. I’ll see you later this week.” He called his goodbyes to the room and disappeared out the front door before he got pulled into breakfast. He didn’t want to be surrounded by all that Christmas joy.
He wanted to be alone and soaking in his misery.
Sighing, he made his way to his car, got in, and started the engine, waving when Kel popped her head out the front door, and maneuvering the driveway and down through the winding road that led back to the shop and his house behind it.
The clouds were dark overhead, hinting at a storm ahead, and that just fit his mood.
“You’re being ridiculous,” he muttered.
Maybe.
But he was feeling pouty.
Last night had been fun, more fun than he’d had in years, actually, but he really just wanted to be alone and sulking in his apartment, wishing he could teleport or that the distance between London and Darlington wasn’t so great.
See? Pouty.
Dale needed to forget about Elizabeth, focus on work and his friends in town.
He’d go back to his life and find a nice girl to date. Maybe one that wasn’t so inclined to disappear after the most fantastic night of his life and—
“Shit!”
He swerved, nearly sideswiping the car that was partially blocking the driveway to the shop. He’d been on autopilot, stuck in his morose thoughts, and not paying close attention.
But as he parked and looked closer, he realized it was a car he recognized.
A car whose driver was sitting in the driver’s seat, banging her head on the steering wheel.
Or she had been.
Because when he put his car in park, got out, and walked to her window, she stopped and looked up at him.
He mimed to roll down her window.
The soft whir was the only sound for a long moment.
“You okay?” he finally asked, blinking away the pleasure of seeing her, the urge to close the distance between them.
“I’m—” Her eyes slid closed, and she sighed. Then turned off the car, unbuckled her seat belt, and opened the door.
A second later, she was in front of him.
“I was driving to the airport and I saw your shop and—” Another sigh, her head tipping back, gaze on the clouds overhead. “And I,” she said, dropping her gaze back down, eyes fixing on his. “I realized I didn’t really have to fly home today. I realized I don’t really have to be back for a week.”
His lungs froze, but when he opened his mouth to reply, she kept going.
“And I thought . . . I haven’t stopped working in two years. I haven’t lived my life for me for much longer than that. And . . . I guess I just wanted to see if whatever this thing between us is . . . real.”
“I—”
“And I don’t have to stay here. I can get a hotel or ask Justin to stay at the ranch.” She bit her lip. “I’m sure I could find plenty of business to keep me busy while you’re working, because I know you have a business to run. And—” A long exhale. “I—I know this is crazy, but I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
“I—”
“And you can totally say no.”
“I—”
“Or that you want me to leave early if things aren’t working out, or—”
Since it appeared that he wasn’t going to be able to get a word in edgewise, Dale did what he’d been longing for.
He wove his fingers into her hair, tilted up her chin, and . . . he kissed her.
He kissed her long enough to taste the mint of toothpaste on her breath, to feel the rapid pulse of her heart beating against his chest, lush curves beneath his palms.
He kissed her until he didn’t want to ever let her go.
But the skies had other plans. The temperature dropped and snow began to fall, covering them in icy flakes.
Lucky for him, that meant he got to bring her inside.
“A week?” he asked when he was unlocking the door.
“A week,” she said. “Or maybe more.”
“I guess I’d better read up on squatter’s rights.”
A scowl, but the effect was ruined when she grinned and wove her arms around him. “Maybe I’ll leave early,” she threatened.
“And maybe I haven’t taken a vacation in years and would love to spend a week with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He kissed her. “And maybe if you don’t get tired of me, my next vacation can be to London,” he murmured when they broke apart, chests heaving, blood pounding in his veins.
She touched his cheek. “I think I’d like that.”
Her stomach growled. He pulled her close again. “I’ve got a secret.”
“What’s that?” she asked, nuzzling his throat.
“Melissa smuggled an entire French silk pie into the trunk of my car.”
Elizabeth pulled back, grinned. “Pie for breakfast?”
“Why not?” he asked, stroking a hand down her back. “I think it’s time we both live a little.” A kiss to her forehead. “What do you say?”
“I say . . .” She paused, eyes calculating. “That I get first dibs on the chocolate curls.”
“Not if I get them first!” he said, stepping back, opening the front door, and taking off for his car.