The Christmas Tree Page 18

  They dug in and silence reigned as they enjoyed their desserts. After she finished her slice, Sadie spent an inordinate amount of time licking each tine of her fork clean, each stroke of her tongue dropping his IQ by ten points as the blood drained from his head, flowed south. That was his only excuse as to why it took him so long to realize her actions were orchestrated.

  Grabbing the arm of her chair, he spun her toward him, their knees knocking. “You little tease. Didn’t anyone ever warn you about acting provocatively on a construction site?”

  She cocked her head. “I’ve heard that women get some catcalls walking past construction workers, though I’m almost embarrassed to admit I’ve never encountered that behavior. But being warned about eating pie at a construction site, no, I can’t say that has ever come up in conversation.”

  “You’re being literal again,” he growled. Leaning forward, he sank into her lips, tasted the sweet custard on her tongue. “And you weren’t just eating pie. You were making love to the fork.”

  She smiled. “Well, one of us had to make a move. It didn’t seem like you were up for the job.”

  That did it. Bending at the waist, he plucked her out of the chair into a fireman’s carry, her delighted laughter hitting him right under the solar plexus. She was getting under his skin, this woman. Christ, she was already there. He didn’t know if that was something he should worry about—sure as hell wasn’t going to take the time to think it over now. He could work it out later, determine whether it would be a problem how quickly he’d become attached to Sadie. Right now, his need trumped any concerns.

  The couch was lumpy, the fabric worn to threads in some patches. It didn’t matter. It was sturdy enough to hold them and relatively clean. Good enough. He heaved his shoulders, pretending to toss her off, but caught her to his chest and gently lowered her to the cushions. Her eyes twinkled with humor and Colt thought how rare it was to have laughter and heat all wrapped together in the same moment.

  She tore at the buttons on his shirt, quickly baring his chest to her roving hands. He sucked in a breath. Then another. He wasn’t some teenager to come at the feel of a woman’s hands on his chest. But he was close.

  Standing, he shrugged out of his shirt, quickly shucked the rest of his clothes, and turned his attention to Sadie. She hadn’t moved, just watched the show.

  “You could have helped out,” he said, tugging off her boots and socks. “Now I have to waste time undressing both of us.”

  She lifted her hips, allowed him to drag down her pants. “I didn’t realize it was such a chore. I wouldn’t want you to waste your time.” She reached for the hem of her sweater.

  Knocking her hands away, he slid his fingers up and under her top, marveled at how soft her skin was. “Too late. It’s my job now.” Her sweater joined her jeans on the floor. She twisted to the side, exposing her back to him, and he made quick work of the hooks on her bra. A black one this time, with little bits of lace on the cups. The bra deserved more attention; the brief glimpse he’d had of it on Sadie proved it worthy of his reverence.

  But now wasn’t the time. Later, when he’d had his fill of her, when he’d sated this urgency.

  She leaned back on the sofa, stretched her arms above her head. And smiled.

  He groaned. She knew she had him. At her mercy. At her bidding. It was a smile worthy of a princess. His princess. But he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  Starting at her hip bone, he kissed his way up her body, using his tongue and teeth until she was as desperate as he was. Each breath that caught in her throat, every sigh that passed her lips, fueled his desire. And when she finally broke down and begged, he was right there with her, his ache a match for hers.

  Rolling on a condom, he rose above her and filled her with one stroke. They paused there, joined together, and Colt fought for control. Last night had showed him how great they were together, their chemistry off the charts. But it was the sense of completeness that surprised him. The feeling that something he’d been waiting for his whole life had just walked through his door. His heart seemed to freeze at the realization, then pounded with a renewed fury, his galloping pulse a match for his racing mind.

  He buried his face in her hair, drew in that crisp apple scent. And started to move. She wrapped a leg over his hip, drawing him closer. Her nails scored his back. She tried to control the pace, let out a frustrated growl when she couldn’t. Smiling, he kissed the tip of her nose, put a hand on her waist to help them roll over.

  Forgot they were on a narrow couch.

  Sadie landed on him, his breath leaving his lungs with a whoosh. “Oh my God. Are you okay?” She pushed her bangs across her forehead.

  “Fine.” He took a deep breath, rested his hands on her hips.

  “Are you sure?” She bit her lip. “We’ve got to stop falling off of things.”

  Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, he grinned. “Only makes it more exciting. Now, you’ve got me where you want me. What are you going to do?”

  One side of her mouth tilted up. “I’m going to have my way with you.” And she did. Hips rocking, hands roaming over every inch of his skin she could reach, she took them both to the edge, then brought them flying over.

  She lay on top of him, chest against chest, as their heavy breathing slowed. He was spent, physically and emotionally wrung out. He couldn’t blame Sadie. She’d made no demands on him. Well, she’d made demands of his body, but those he was only too willing to comply with. But she hadn’t asked for promises. Had only given herself, wholeheartedly and with a passion he never would have guessed at when they’d first met.

  His emotional turmoil had nothing to do with the woman in his arms asking for too much, too soon. He was worried that she wasn’t asking for enough. He stroked his hands up and down her back, felt her contented sigh down to his bones. He wanted more. He wanted to hold her like this every night for a long time to come. The month she’d be in Pineville flipping her house wouldn’t be enough.

  So he held her closer, thought of all the ways he could convince her to stay longer. He had a month. He could make it work.

  With a sigh, she pushed off of him. “Do you want to come back to my place?” she asked, reaching for her underwear, slipping her panties up her legs. Colt resisted the urge to slide them back down. Barely.

  Rolling to his feet, he started putting on his clothes. “I’d love to, but Bill called and I told him I would look through my truck tonight and take out anything I wanted.” Seeing her blank look, he explained. “Bill works at the junk yard. I released the truck to him and he wants to take it apart for scrap, ASAP.”

  “Of course.” She began to clean up the desk, wadding their plates up and shoving them in a paper bag. “Are you going to be okay doing that? Do you want any company?”

  “I’ll be fine, but thanks.” He cleared his throat. Not many people cared about protecting his feelings anymore. Colt was the one who looked out for others. It was nice to be on the receiving end of someone’s concern. “If it’s not too late when I’m done, maybe I could come over?”

  “I’d like that,” she said. Her smile tugged at his heart, giving his chest a sweet ache. “I’ll wait up for you.”

  He went to the trailer door and held it open for Sadie. She brushed against him as she went past and he followed her down the steps to her car. Pulling the door open, he trapped her body within the open space, one of his hands on the door, the other on the roof of the car. “Tomorrow should be our last day with the tree.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to miss it?” She rubbed her hands together in front of her mouth and blew on her fingers. Her eyes glinted at him over her hands.

  “Not the decorating.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I ever want to decorate a tree again.” He brushed the back of his knuckles over her jaw and let his hand rest on her neck, satisfaction coiling in his stomach when her pulse spiked at his touch. “But I must admit to liking the fact that you were court-ordered to spend ti
me with me. There was no escape for you.”

  She snorted. “If I recall correctly, you were the one wanting to do all the escaping those first couple of days.” Reaching her arms around his torso, she tipped her head back to look at him. “I was content to enjoy the eye candy. Mostly.”

  “Mostly?” Raising an eyebrow, he feigned outrage.

  “Well, your mouth sure got in the way of my enjoyment sometimes. But when you weren’t insulting or berating me, I liked it.”

  He leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I hope my mouth can make it up to you.”

  Sadie shifted up on her toes, her body rubbing against his, and closed the distance between their lips. This kiss lasted a lot longer. When they finally pulled apart, she was smiling. “I’m sure of it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Pulling a tray of oatmeal cookies from the oven, Sadie thought maybe she should start a bakery. Colt had been snarky when he’d thrown out the question, but most of her nights had been spent baking one thing or the other. It wouldn’t hurt to get paid.

  In Ann Arbor, she’d driven past her favorite bakery and thought about buying Colt some cookies. But silly as it might seem, that hadn’t felt right. She wanted the first cookies she gave him to be made by her. After his fussing, again, tonight at dinner, she’d detoured on her way home to pick up some more ingredients at the store. She’d also bought a package of shiny red garland, which now adorned the tops of her cabinets, and green potholders decorated with jolly red Santas, giving her kitchen a smidge of Christmas cheer.

  One of the cookies stuck to the pan, the spatula tearing it apart. She popped a broken half in her mouth, the melting chocolate chips still hot on her tongue. Pouring herself a glass of milk, she leaned against the counter and examined the room. The decorations she’d put up were so sparse it was almost pathetic, but the worn kitchen still seemed more homey than her kitchen back in Ann Arbor. More lived-in.

  Everything about that city had seemed different from what it had been before she’d left for Pineville. All the buildings and streets were the same. Maybe fewer college kids were in town because of the holidays. But that wouldn’t account for her sense that something was off, as if she’d put on a pair of glasses and suddenly saw that the familiar face of a friend had a few more wrinkles on it than she’d remembered.

  She loved Ann Arbor, had lived her whole life in that city. But she couldn’t ignore that when she’d sped out of the city limits, car pointed toward Pineville, she’d felt she was heading home. Even though it was nowhere near the size of a metropolis like Detroit, Ann Arbor remained crowded, impersonal. A hundred thousand people surrounded her in her hometown, and Sadie only knew a few of them well.

  And Ann Arbor was lacking one very important ingredient. It didn’t have Colt. A man who had insinuated himself into her life, who just might be as necessary to her happiness as corn syrup was to pecan pie.

  The thought terrified her.

  She reached for another cookie, and not a broken one this time. Nope, when a woman realized that she might have met the one, the biggest and best-looking cookie was required.

  She’d been taught that men avoided commitment. That if a woman mentioned a white dress too early, she’d scare him off. And, really, hadn’t she always thought her friends a little bit pathetic, declaring their love for a man they’d been dating less than a month?

  Sadie snorted. Well, if they could see her now, they’d fall out of their chairs laughing. And they’d be right. Sadie had watched her mother cling to her unfaithful father, and had sworn she’d never be the type of woman to fall too quickly, to assume the man was serious about the relationship just because she saw forever in their future.

  Yet here she was. Dreaming about forever. Not taking her own advice. She’d tried to fight it. Reminded Colt at every turn that their relationship had an expiration date. That she wasn’t some desperate woman, wanting more than he was willing to give. She’d protected her pride, but it wasn’t fair to Colt. He’d been nothing but honest with her. She twisted her lips. Brutally so, at times. His interest in her seemed genuine. When he held her close, when she looked into his eyes, she swore he felt the same connection she did.

  It was time to give them a chance.

  She finished plating the cookies, ate the other half of the broken one. Colt would be over soon and she wanted to be ready. Climbing up to her bedroom, she pulled out an ankle-length silk nightgown. It wasn’t overtly sexy, but with its spaghetti straps and pretty lace trim, she knew he would like it.

  The lucky man was going to get two treats tonight: her and his favorite cookies.

  * * *

  Colt held the flashlight Bill had loaned him and stared at the wreckage of his brother’s truck, the twisted metal just one of many skeletons in the vehicular boneyard. His heart tugged painfully in his chest at the sight.

  The driver’s door screeched in the still night air as he tugged it open. The little he could see of the seat and floor was covered in broken glass. It looked as though he would need a can opener to separate the roof of the car from the center console and dashboard. Opening a brown paper bag he had brought, he started filling it with items he pulled from the truck. An ice scraper, a pair of sunglasses from the visor, a bottle of motor oil three-quarters full. Odds and ends filled the sack, each item he removed a fresh slash of pain to the back of his throat. He circled to the passenger door and wrestled it open. The ceiling of the roof was smashed even lower on this side, with no steering wheel to block its collapse.

  Squatting by the open door, he moved the beam of the flashlight over the interior. He found some crumpled-up napkins and old receipts, garbage that he didn’t bother removing. The glove box refused to open to his hard tugs. Slamming the side of his fist against the plastic panel, he yanked the handle, blew out a deep huff when it finally popped open. He pulled out a couple of CD cases and rifled through some papers. At the back of the glove box, his fingers brushed against a small cardboard box.

  Whatever had been printed on the box had long since faded away. Opening it, he slid out its contents, a brass harmonica glinting in the beam of the flashlight. Colt put it to his lips and a harsh note broke the silence. A dog howled in the distance and he slid the instrument back in its box, a wry smile crossing his lips. He had never been musical.

  His fist tightened around it, the cardboard edges digging into his skin. He’d thought that Caleb had taken his harmonica with him overseas. At one time Caleb had carried the instrument around with him so much it had seemed a permanent extension of his hand. It had been a Christmas present from their father when Caleb was a boy, and after years of practice, his brother had excelled at making music with it.

  Colt placed it in his pocket, rose to his feet. He ran his hand along the door before gently easing it shut. Taking one last look at the truck, he blinked at the burn behind his eyes. With a deep breath and a firm set to his shoulders, Colt turned around and walked away.

  He made his way through the carcasses of other totaled vehicles. His brother would have laughed at his tears. Told him he was an idiot for becoming so attached to an object. Colt rubbed his jaw. His brother would have told him a lot of things. Colt hadn’t behaved in a manner this past week that would have made Caleb very proud. Most of that had to do with Sadie. And now he was putting his desires above what she might want, hoping the remodel of her grandmother’s house would take a long time, to keep her around. Would she feel trapped here? Did she want to get back to her life in Ann Arbor?

  He got in the company truck, his mind a swirl of conflicting thoughts. Caleb had wanted Connie to have her dreams. Michigan State University had been her best choice, so he had applied along with her and followed Connie there when they were both accepted. He would have supported Colt in his decision to help remodel the house, but would he have approved of his motivation?

  He idly rubbed his chest and his fingers knocked into the bulge in his breast pocket. His dad would love to see his brother’s harmonica again. He a
nd Caleb had spent many hours, heads together, blowing out tune after tune.

  Once upon a time Colt had turned to his dad for advice and guidance. It hadn’t happened since the first criticism his father had leveled at him after Caleb’s death. But relationships could change, improve. Colt smiled. Sadie had shown him that.

  Starting the truck, he headed for his dad’s house. The drive through town was as familiar to him as his own face, and he made it by rote. He passed by the darkened town square, the black shape of the tree looming large. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Colt realized he was actually excited to see his and Sadie’s hard work lit up. The same type of excitement he’d felt when the final nail had gone into the first house he’d built. The tree decorating was something he and Sadie had accomplished together.

  He pulled to a stop at the curb in front of his dad’s house, ignoring the driveway that looped behind the building. He jogged up to the lit porch and tapped a steady beat on the door. A minute passed before his father’s slow steps approached.

  “Colt.” His father blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Do you have a minute?”

  “Uh . . .” His father wedged his body in the doorway and glanced down the hall behind him. “Well, you see—”

  “Let the boy in, Chuck,” a brash voice called from down the hall. “It’s cold out there.”

  A tide of crimson swept across his father’s craggy face. He held the door open wider. “Right. Um, Janice and I were just finishing dinner. We were discussing work is all.”

  Colt stepped into his father’s entry and raised his eyebrows. “Whose work?”

  “BB, of course.” He frowned. “Well, your work now. And Janice’s.” He turned and shuffled down the hall.

  Janice was sitting on a faded pea-green sofa, a glass of wine in her hand. “Hey there, boyo. How was dinner?” She winked at him, her spidery eyelashes fluttering behind the lenses of her glasses.