The Christmas Tree Page 25

  “We did it.”

  “Yeah.” Colt paused and they enjoyed the moment. “I hate to admit it, but the lights do look better wound into the tree instead of just ringing the outside.”

  “With some things I know what I’m talking about.” She twisted in his grip until she faced him. The glow from the tree illuminated his face, highlighted the flecks of gold in his eyes. “With other things . . . Colt, I’m so sor—”

  He placed a finger over her mouth. “You’ve already apologized. It’s over and done. Let’s look forward.”

  She tried to swallow down her hope but couldn’t keep her heart from fluttering in her chest. “Do you still want me in your future?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

  His eyebrows drew down. “Of course. Sadie, I—”

  “There you two are,” an irritated voice said from the stage. The mayor leaned over the railing, glaring down at them. “Get on up here. We have to thank you.” His head disappeared and Sadie looked back at Colt.

  “He doesn’t look thankful.”

  Colt shook his head in resignation. “It’s tradition. We’ve got to go.” His hand gripped hers again and she was grateful for the continued contact.

  “Can’t it wait?” she asked as he pulled her around the barricade. “You were right in the middle of saying something . . .”

  He turned at the steps to the stage, a devilish smile curving his lips. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you get away tonight until we’ve had that conversation. You’re stuck here and you’d better get used to it.” He led her onto the stage before she could think of a reply.

  The mayor grinned broadly at the crowd and waved an arm at them. “And here they are, ladies and gentlemen. The two responsible for our beautiful tree. Their valuable contributions are most appreciated and we should all thank them for volunteering—”

  A loud cough interrupted him. Judge Nichols stood on the side of the stage, a mischievous smile on his lips. He had made it back in time. Sadie hadn’t heard a word of his speech, too distracted by the man next to her. She wondered what had happened with Deborah and Eugenie and hoped they weren’t spending the night in jail. Judge Nichols winked at her and she smiled in return. With his influence, she was certain the elderly women would be in their own beds tonight.

  “Uh, well, volunteering might be too strong a word,” the mayor continued, and the crowd burst into laughter. “But they still did a heck of a job. Let’s show them our thanks.” He started clapping and stepped forward to shake hands with Sadie and Colt.

  The crowd’s applause died down and Sadie leaned toward Colt. “We don’t have to give a speech or anything, do we?”

  “No, it’s not expected.” He chuckled. “It’s actually been a couple of years since we’ve even gotten to the thank-you stage of the tree lighting. People have been too busy putting out flames or cleaning up debris from falling clocks to continue the ceremony.”

  The mayor waved and wished everyone a Merry Christmas, and he and Judge Nichols descended the stage and started shaking hands with the voters of Pineville.

  “You don’t think people are bored by our normal tree, do you?” She peered out at the crowd, looking for any signs of discontent. Groups of people milled around, chatting, everyone looking like they were enjoying the evening.

  “When the other option is terror and chaos, normal is good.” He gazed down at her, the water in her body turning to steam from the heat in his eyes. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” The crowd halted their progress at the base of the stage. Colt pulled her one way and then another and let out a growl of frustration as his steps were blocked. He rolled his neck, then laced his fingers together and flexed them. “Okay, stand back. I’ll make a path through here if it kills me. I wasn’t starting running back in high school for nothing.”

  She laughed. God, he was cute. And from the way their interrupted conversation had started, she was hoping that he was all hers.

  “Colt?” a small voice asked. They turned and found Connie behind them. Her normally fair skin was a shade paler than usual and stood in stark contrast to her dark hair and clothing. Her eyes looked tired and sad, but the usual glaze that coated them was absent. She looked alert and clear minded.

  He crowded into Sadie’s side. “Hi, Connie. How are you doing?”

  She gave them a weak smile. “Fine.” Connie cleared her throat, shifted on her feet. “I just wanted to tell you guys that you did a great job. The tree looks amazing.”

  “Thanks,” Sadie said. “You look good tonight.” Connie looked worn-out, but Sadie didn’t know a polite way of saying she appeared sober for once.

  Connie raised an eyebrow. She understood what Sadie had meant. “Yeah, I’m feeling a little better tonight.” Rubbing her arm, shoulder to elbow, she said, “I need to apologize to both of you for my behavior. I know it’s not an excuse, but I lose my filter when I drink, and say and do inappropriate things.” Her dark eyes flickered to Sadie, then back to Colt. “I hope you’re happy, Colt. It’s nice seeing you smile again. Caleb wouldn’t have wanted you to mourn him for so long.”

  “The same goes for you.” Colt reached out a hand and squeezed her arm. “He’d want you to be happy, too.”

  “I’m working on it.” Connie lifted her chin. “Regardless, you won’t have to worry about putting me to bed anymore.” She glanced at Sadie and flushed. “In a purely nonsexual way, of course. I’ve stopped drinking,” she told them, her eyes hard but her voice holding a hint of doubt and a lot of desperation.

  He squeezed her arm again. “Good for you. I know you can do it. And if you ever need help, you can call me. You have friends in this town. Don’t forget it.”

  She nodded and wrapped her black cashmere scarf more tightly around her neck. “It’s cold. I’m going to head back home. You two have a good night.”

  After Connie threaded her way into the crowd, Colt turned back to Sadie. “You don’t mind that I offered that, do you?” He studied her, a worried crease between his eyebrows, and Sadie’s heart melted.

  “Of course not. She was important to Caleb and now to you. You want to help a friend. I would expect nothing less.”

  He cradled the back of her head with his broad palm and pressed his lips against hers. It started out light, a kiss of celebration, of thanks, but quickly turned hot. She broke away and gasped for air. “Well, you’re welcome.”

  “Get a room,” came a call from the crowd, and a group of teenage boys snickered.

  With a firm grip on her arm, Colt elbowed his way through the crowd. He took her through the police barricades again and around to the back of the tree. The blue spruce blocked most of the noise from the square and Sadie could almost imagine she and Colt were alone.

  Soft wetness touched her nose, then her cheek. She held out a hand and laughed when a few white flakes landed on her glove. “It’s starting to snow.” She looked up at Colt and grinned. “That might not beat shooting fireworks, but it’s darn close.”

  He leaned down and kissed her nose, his tongue flickering out to lick at the melted water. She sucked in a breath. He moved to her cheek and pressed light kisses across her face wherever the snowflakes landed. Knowing she was seconds away from jumping him, and not being an exhibitionist, she asked, “Wasn’t there something you wanted to finish saying to me?”

  Drawing back, he ran his fingers across her brow, sweeping her bangs off her eyes. “Always keeping me on task,” he said, smiling. “I have a question for you. About our future.”

  Her heart thundered in her ears. “A question?” Her voice came out as a squeak and she cleared her throat. There weren’t that many questions men asked about a couple’s future. Moving in together, becoming co-owners of a dog . . . Colt dropped to one knee.

  Or the big one.

  “You’ve driven me crazy from the first moment I met you, Sadie Wilson. You push me, support me, and give me a strength I didn’t know I had. And I find that I don’t want a life without that. Without you.” He reached in
to his coat pocket, pulled out a white handkerchief and unfolded it. A circle of gold glowed on the linen cloth, a cluster of stones sparkling in the tree’s lights. He picked up the ring and lifted Sadie’s hand. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She swayed unsteadily on her feet. Her gaze flickered between Colt’s eyes and the ring he was sliding on her finger. His shoulders were tense, obviously nervous about her reply, but his mouth was set with determination. She had a feeling that he wasn’t going to let her go unless she gave him the answer he wanted.

  She gripped his hand. “Colt . . .”

  He misread her hesitation. “I know this is quick. We haven’t known each other for very long and liked each other for even less time.” Sadie smiled at that. “But when it’s right, it’s right. And we’re right for each other. If you need to go back to Ann Arbor, then I’ll follow you. But I’m hoping we can create a home and a life here, in Pineville. What do you say?” He squeezed her hand. “Well, say something. Anything.”

  “Uh . . .” What do you say to the man who suddenly offers you everything? She had twenty different things to express to him and only one mouth to speak with. The words were bottlenecking in her throat, her emotions choking her.

  “This was my mother’s ring. My father gave it to me tonight to give to you, but if you don’t like it we can pick out another one,” he said. She frowned and shook her head firmly, hoping to convey that the trappings didn’t matter to her. She would marry him even if he gave her a cigar wrapper as a ring. Looking down at the precious heirloom, that thought became irrelevant. The ring was beautiful.

  “Princess, you’re killing me.” He pulled her a step closer. “I’m just doing what you taught me. Trying to create more depth in my life. If you say no, what kind of teacher would you be?” Colt swung her hand back and forth. “We’ll have a long engagement so you can get used to the idea. I was hoping to get married next month, but I can wait a couple more.”

  Next month? Sadie snapped out of her shock at that harebrained idea. “We’ll need a long engagement. Do you know how much time it takes to organize a proper wedding? I need to plan the venue, the catering, the dresses and tuxedos, the flowers.” She glared at him. “Next month,” she scoffed. “You’re out of your mind.”

  He flashed his sexy dimples at her. “I’m taking that as a yes, and you’re not allowed to take it back.” He dragged her down until she sat on his raised thigh. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “The invitations, the cake . . .” She shook her head.

  He pressed her hip close to his. “You can start making your lists and plans tomorrow, princess. Now it’s time to kiss your future husband.” He kissed her sweetly, his mouth worshipping hers.

  She pulled back. “We could have Judge Nichols marry us in a small ceremony.” Colt growled and brought their mouths back together. She stopped thinking and just enjoyed the heat of his mouth as the snow fell softly around them. His kiss brought to mind another aspect of the wedding that needed to be organized.

  “The honeymoon . . .” She sighed happily.

  “. . . is mine to plan.” He nibbled on her ear. “I’ll have my own list for that.” He smiled devilishly at her. “And you know how important it is to check everything off your list.”

  She leaned closer, pressing her body to his, and kissed the side of his neck. “I am a stickler for to-do lists.”

  “Good. Because there’s one more list I need you to pay strict attention to.” Running his hands through her hair, Colt angled her face so she looked straight in his eyes. “Our vows. The list of our promises to each other.”

  “Our vows?” She narrowed her eyes. “You aren’t one of those guys who wants the whole ‘honor and obey’ thing, are you?”

  “Nope, we can work around that.”

  “Then what . . . ?”

  He rubbed his thumbs along her cheekbones. “I want it in our vows that you bake cookies only for me.”

  She slapped his shoulder. “Be serious.”

  “I am very serious about your cookies, princess.”

  Rolling her eyes, she fought to keep her mouth stern. It would do no good to let him know how easily he charmed her. If she had any hope of holding her own with this man for the next fifty years or so, she needed to stand firm.

  “I was taught never to be selfish with my cookies,” she said.

  He leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth, his hands slowly rubbing up and down her back.

  “I can make plenty of cookies for both you and our friends.”

  He kissed the other side of her lips, a whisper of a touch.

  Her heart pounded. She wouldn’t succumb to such a blatant attempt at persuasion. She wouldn’t. “I can agree not to bake for people you don’t like?” she whispered, her intended declaration coming out more like a question.

  His teeth lightly bit her bottom lip, the sharp sensation making her gasp. He swept his tongue into her mouth, the kiss slow and deep. Her toes curled inside her boots.

  She gave up. “Fine,” she groaned. “My cookies will be for you only.”

  His smile brushed across her lips. “I’m a very lucky man.”

  Don’t miss the third novel in Allyson Charles’s Pineville series

  Coming next May from Lyrical Shine!

  Click here to get your copy.

  Chapter One

  She knew he was trouble the moment he crossed her path. Big caramel eyes. Shaggy dark hair. An attitude as big as Lake Michigan. Head lowered, legs wide, he stood in the middle of the road as though he owned it. The brakes of her Jeep squealed as she rolled to a stop and put the vehicle in park. She met his suspicious glare with one of her own.

  Connie Wilkerson peered down her narrow drive. From her home, it was about an eighth of a mile along the bumpy dirt road to the main road, and no one else was in sight. What the hell was he doing here? And how had he gotten on her driveway? Those were mysteries she didn’t have time to deal with. She had twenty minutes to make it to the courthouse for her first ever case as an attorney, and she couldn’t be late.

  Big-and-hairy didn’t look like he planned on moving out of her way anytime soon. Connie eyed the tuft of coarse brown hair jutting off his chin, then the rows of rough-cut stones forming close walls around this stretch of driveway. Her fifteen-year-old Jeep had taken her over some rough terrain before, but attempting to roll over a two-foot rock wall would beat it.

  Leaning on her horn, she made shooing motions at him through the glass windshield. He dipped his head lower. Connie dug her nails into the steering wheel, her breaths coming short and fast. The clock on her dashboard told her she had eighteen minutes until court would be in session. She wiped away the dust covering the plastic clock face to confirm it. Yup. She was going to be late. Why did this crap always happen to her?

  She honked again, but the obstacle stood firm.

  She had to face the beast.

  Opening the door, she lowered her sensible navy pumps to the ground, her two-inch heels sinking into the dirt. She reached into the backseat for the old steering wheel lock she never seemed to get around to throwing out, and held the metal bar in front of herself like a cattle prod.

  “Move along.” She shook the club at him and took a small step forward. “Time to go on home.”

  The goat cocked its head.

  Connie narrowed her eyes. Sure, the creature might not understand her words, but any animal could understand from her waving a bar around that she wanted it to move. He didn’t have to look at her like she was crazy. Choking up on the club like a baseball bat, she swung it back and forth in the air. Ignoring her warning, the goat snorted and pawed the ground.

  He must have escaped from a local farm, but she couldn’t think of any that kept goats. Where the hell did he belong? She didn’t know, except it wasn’t on her driveway. Or anywhere on her forested lot, for that matter.

  “Well, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” And now she was giving the stupid anim
al the bartender talk.

  The goat reacted to it about as well as she had in her heyday. He blew her a big raspberry, a string of drool dripping into his chin hair.

  Her foot paused inches above the ground. She looked down at her double-breasted silk skirt suit, the one that she’d spent her first paycheck as an attorney on, and back at the slobbering beast. She took a step away. Retreating to her Jeep seemed like a much better idea. Maybe if she nudged him with her bumper he’d scamper off? And really. If he decided not to move and worse came to worst, would anyone miss the scruffy animal? Goats went missing every day.

  Her butt bumped the hood, and the animal chose that moment to charge. Throwing her torso up on the Jeep, she reached for the top of the hood where it met the windshield to pull herself up.

  The metal bar in her hand slammed into the windshield. A crack splintered along the glass, and her jaw dropped with each inch. She had barely a second to process the damage when something tugged sharply at the back of her skirt.

  She craned her neck, and shrieked in outrage when she caught sight of the navy silk caught firmly between the goat’s teeth. He seemed to smile around his mouthful.

  “No!” She kicked out, and the animal danced sideways, avoiding her foot while maintaining his grip. He backed up.

  “Oh shit.” Abandoning the club, she gripped the waistband of the skirt being pulled down her hips. “Let me go!”

  He lowered his head and took another step back. Something had to give: either her skirt or her position on the Jeep. Connie slid off the hood and landed in a heap on the dirt. She pulled a dark lock of hair away from her mouth and looked up at one pissy goat. The animal blew a foul-smelling breath across her face, and nausea coiled in her stomach.

  “I didn’t mean it about running you over. I swear.”

  He jutted his chin, looking unconvinced.

  A branch broke, and both she and the goat swung their heads around. A deer walked through a clump of pine trees about fifty feet away.