Falling For Christmas: an Angel's Lake novella Page 6

  His gut tightened. He could listen to her say his name on repeat. “Yeah?”

  “I really like your idea. It sounds nice. It sounds perfect.”

  He sent her another quick glance and saw no hesitation in her gaze. He nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  How was she supposed to fight falling for this guy when he was one sweet surprise after another? Maybe because there’s nothing sweet about you? Forcing herself to relax—dates didn’t usually make her nervous—she turned the radio on, found some Christmas music to fill the quiet. His calm nature felt like a very welcome change of pace to being on her own. Usually, her mind was whirling with ideas, worries, or recipes. It was nice to just…be.

  As he wound up the mountain road, more snow lined the streets, covering the trees. It was like heading into a peaceful winter wonderland. Her thoughts wandered. She wondered what it’d be like to have this steady, quietly sexy man at her side long term. You’d have to open up and tell him who you think might be chasing you and why.

  A homey, spacious, two-story cabin came into view. Georgia inhaled sharply. “When you said cabin, I pictured a fishing shack or something. Not the setting for a holiday movie.”

  Cam pulled into the driveway, parked in front of the garage. Cabins had garages? The wide, wrap around porch drew her eye when she hopped out of the truck. Cam joined her a moment later, put out his hand. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she didn’t hesitate for a second. She liked the weight of his hand locked with her own.

  She’d probably hurt him. But she’d been mostly honest, telling him she wasn’t his type. Here they were, despite her warning. He was a big boy. If he didn’t want to be here with her, he wouldn’t be.

  “Come on.”

  Cam led the way to the porch. Should he have brought her to a restaurant? Damn. What if this was creepy? He just wanted to enjoy the night with her without getting razzed by friends and co-workers. If he took her out anywhere in Angel’s Lake, everyone would know about it by morning. You could have taken her outside of town.

  Too late now. He and his dad had hung the lights two weekends ago. He’d remembered to turn them on before going to get Georgia. The darkening sky made the bulbs appear brighter. More festive.

  He didn’t release her hand to unlock the door. A little part of him felt a sense of urgency to have as much of her as he could—whether it was a look, her hand in his, or her beside him in his truck. She’d not only told him she wasn’t long-term; she had the energy of a person who didn’t stand still long.

  “You’ve gone almost eerily quiet. I gotta say, if I didn’t have a stamp of approval from my cousin and her husband about what a great guy you are or maybe if this was a big city, I’d be a little worried about the quiet combined with the cabin in the woods.”

  He heard the laughter in her voice as he shut the door behind them. The polished wood entry way had a set of stairs that went up to the bedrooms and open archways on both the right and left sides. Cam faced her, sighing heavily as he put both hands on his hips.

  “Maybe I messed up,” he admitted while she removed her jacket, handing it to him. His throat went dry as he took in her dark jeans, shimmery dark grey blouse that revealed a black lacey tank beneath. She was stunning.

  “How’s that?” Georgia put a hand on his arm, using him to balance as she unzipped one boot, then the next.

  In her stocking feet—he grinned. “You’ve got gingerbread people on your socks.”

  Lifting his head, he met her gaze. Her smile went all the way up to her eyes. “Well, yeah. It’s Christmas.”

  That one, silly, little thing eased the tension building at the base of his neck. Georgia stepped closer to him and a different kind of tension slammed into his body.

  “You were saying?”

  His thoughts muddled as he inhaled her soap or hair or maybe just her skin. Whatever the source, she smelled incredible. “I—we should have gone out.”

  Her jacket was between them but she pressed closer. “I’m just teasing you about the cabin in the woods. In all honesty, you’re probably in more danger than I am.”

  This made him frown. Stepping back, he hung her jacket, removed his own and hung it as well. When he turned back, she was grinning at him.

  “What?” His tone was gruff. He held out a hand.

  She slipped hers into his grasp without hesitation, following him when he took her into the living room.

  “I’m the Big Bad Wolf out of the two of us,” she said.

  Cam stopped abruptly, right beside the Christmas tree his mother and sisters had already put up, decorated. He brought them face to face and stared down. “Are you calling me Little Red Riding Hood?”

  Now she laughed. Her hands slid up behind his neck. “No. I’m just saying, I was teasing. Stop worrying. I’m glad I can be here with you knowing my virtue and safety are completely okay in your hands.”

  Part of him was pleased that she understood he’d never hurt her; he wouldn’t. Still. He was not Little Red Riding Hood. Stepping back again, pleased when she gave a huff of frustration, he went to the fireplace, flicked the switch.

  “I think you have the wrong impression of me,” he said.

  She studied the tree, her fingers grazing over ornaments that they’d hung year after year. He wondered what traditions she had. Where was the rest of her family?

  “Is that so.”

  Walking over to her, he gripped her wrist lightly, tugged her against his chest, closing his mouth over hers the way he wanted to since…well, every time he was near Georgia.

  With an urgency that soothed him—just knowing she wanted him back—Georgia went up on tiptoe, pressing so tightly against him, nothing but air fit between them. And he was dangerously short on that when they pulled away from each other.

  “Is that supposed to prove a point, Red?”

  A low growl left his throat. She was goading him on purpose. “I’m shy. Quiet. Polite. Not some little girl in a fairy tale.”

  Georgia’s hands wandered over his chest, a little hum of pleasure leaving her throat. “I’m not attacking your manhood. I was just telling you I feel safe. Honestly, if you knew more about me, you’d know how much that means to me that I do. I like you. The fact that you’re a good guy, that I know I can come to secluded chalet—I’m not buying the cabin label—is icing on the incredibly good-looking, solid, sweet cake.”

  “I’m not always sweet,” he muttered.

  Her smile slipped. “I know. I’ve seen that side of you. It’s a very curious, and sexy, dichotomy.”

  He led them over to the couch, the fire dancing in behind the glass. “I like the sound of that better.”

  They sat side by side, their fingers linked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Adjusting so he was turned to face her, he stroked her jaw with his thumb. “I’m not fragile, Georgia. I can do casual, just fine. In fact, I do it all the time. So, stop worrying.” He played poker. He could bluff.

  Both of her perfectly manicured brows rose up. “Oh yeah?”

  Giving an exaggerated sigh, he stared down at their hands. “Yup. I didn’t want to tell you this but I’m actually seeing six other women. It’s you who shouldn’t get too attached.”

  When he looked up, she was biting her lip to keep from laughing. She took a breath, narrowed her eyes. “Wow. That’s a lot on your plate, juggling that many women.”

  “Don’t go getting jealous or anything. I’ve never brought any of them here.”

  Georgia put one hand on his thigh, leaning closer. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as such a player.”

  Cam nodded. “I know. That’s what I mean. Your impression of me is wrong.”

  “Because you’re actually a hardnose, badass player who leaves a trail of broken hearts?”

  Cam trailed a finger down the column of her neck, toyed with the ends of her hair. “Exactly.”

  Georgia’s breath brushed over his cheek as her lips neared his ear. H
e shuddered when her tongue touched the spot just below his lobe, then her mouth pressed against his skin.

  “Cam?”

  He pulled back, looked into her eyes which were burning with the same desire consuming him. “Yeah?”

  “You’re a really bad liar,” she whispered.

  Okay. He sucked at poker. Grinning, he leaned down, pressed his mouth to hers, loving the fact that he could. He moved both of his hands into her hair as she arched against him, like she couldn’t get close enough.

  They made out like teenagers on the couch and Cam felt a lightness in his chest he didn’t recognize. There was something about this woman that pulled him on a different level. On every level. It was thrilling. Terrifying.

  When her stomach growled audibly, he was overwhelmed with affection for her and the way her cheeks went pink. He rubbed his thumbs over both.

  “It’s cute when you’re the one blushing.”

  “I don’t blush often so don’t get used to it. I guess you’d better feed me though.”

  He shifted, Georgia doing the same and stood up. “I can do that. Give me a couple minutes to get everything on plates, okay?”

  She stood up as well. “I can help.”

  Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he breathed her in, knowing that scent would stay lodged inside of him long after the night was done. “I’ve got it. Why don’t you pick a Christmas movie from Netflix?”

  “Any restrictions?”

  It would be the height of corniness to tell her whichever one was longest so he could soak up the time together.

  “Nope. You choose.”

  He walked away, heading to the kitchen, wondering how the hell he was going to pull off feeling casual when he already felt head over heels for this woman.

  A worry for another day.

  Chapter Eleven

  Georgia finished the chicken parmesan, not at all worried about the fact that she’d polished off that, two pieces of garlic bread, and her mouth was watering at the thought of dessert. Cam makes you feel comfortable. But he also made her feel…overheated and antsy. She’d never been with a man who made her feel all the things.

  Cam leaned across the table, napkin in hand, brushing the corner of it over her chin. “I’ll have to tell Lulu you like her chicken.”

  “This is the best thing I’ve eaten since I got here but don’t you dare tell Sam that. He’s pretty proud of his pasta.”

  Cam laughed. She watched the way his throat worked, the way his eyes lit up.”

  “Sam’s a lousy cook.”

  She nodded. He was. But she’d lied and told him it was delicious. He’d known she was lying.

  Crumpling the napkin, he tossed it on his plate and leaned back, crossing his arms. She wanted her hands on those arms. Without his shirt.

  “Tell me about Christmases at your house growing up.”

  The happy, easy feeling shifted, her chest tightening. “Not much to tell.” She stared down at her plate.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to change the mood.”

  Looking up, she faked a smile. “Tell me about yours.”

  He looked around. “You can see most of it right here. We’ve spent Christmas at this cabin for years. Now that two of my three sisters are married, we aren’t all here on Christmas day anymore but my parents, my youngest sister and I all come up.”

  Longing unfurled inside of her, stealing her breath. She closed her eyes for a second, breathed through the moment. When she opened them, she met his curious gaze. “Sounds perfect.”

  “I can’t complain. You ever open up to anyone?”

  Wow. He could be hardnose. “No.”

  Cam pushed his chair back, standing to come around the table. He took her hand and pulled her up. Saying nothing, they went to the couch where he sat and pulled her down more on him than beside him. The unexpected gesture pressed her buttons, made her want him more. He was shy and sweet. But he wasn’t hiding the fact that he wanted her close. She liked that.

  “Let me be the first.”

  She ducked her head. “Cam. I wasn’t joking when I said I don’t want to hurt you.”

  With a finger under her chin, he brought her gaze up to his. “I can take care of myself, Georgia. Take the risk. That seems like your type of thing—you moved on a whim, opened your shop, you work your ass off. You know how to jump all in without knowing the end result. Do that with me.”

  “We won’t last.”

  She saw the wince he tried to hide. He tunneled his hands into her hair. “Then let’s enjoy the ride while we do.”

  She wanted that. More than she’d wanted anything in a long time. “We could just have sex and enjoy the ride without all the backstory and mushy stuff, too.”

  He ran the tip of his nose along the bridge of hers. She shivered, surprised that such a simple touch could elicit so much.

  “I don’t work that way. I’m sorry. We can keep it casual but I won’t sleep with you, knowing nothing about you. If you can’t open up to me here on the couch, why would you in the bedroom?”

  God. He was oddly frustrating. “That’s a little old school isn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “We can just hang out. We don’t have to sleep together. I’d still like to know you.”

  “You’re a strange man, Cam. Most guys would jump all over…well, me.”

  He chuckled, his thumb brushing over her lips. “Don’t think I don’t want to. But I’m not most guys. And you’re worth more than that whether you believe it or not.”

  A lump formed in her throat. She wasn’t a crier but emotion swamped her now. Taking a deep breath, and a leap, she leaned her head against his chest. Her eyes closed when his hands stroked through her hair with exquisite tenderness.

  “My Christmases were pretty quiet. Usually just me and mom. She didn’t get up until noon most days. Christmas was no different. Over the years, she dated a couple guys who put some effort in. I got a stocking one year. A couple of gifts another. One year, she forgot all together so I watched Hallmark movies by myself while she slept.”

  His arms wound around her body and tightened. “I’m sorry.”

  Her shrug didn’t get much traction because he was holding her so close. “It was what it was. My dad left when I was seven. My mom waitressed, sometimes did her best, sometimes forgot I was around. Every now and again, I’d get to go stay with Anna’s family. Our moms were sisters. Couldn’t have been more different. Those are some of the best memories I have.”

  “Are you cold?” He stroked her hair again, bringing her head back so he could see her eyes.

  “No.” She realized she was shaking a little. Sharing herself had never gone well. It was hard for her to bring up the life she wanted to escape. But she liked this man and wanted her chance—even a brief one with him. Some guys liked lingerie. If Cam wanted stories of her past, she could do that. She grinned.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “I was just thinking that some guys like lingerie. Some are into things I’m not. Whatever. But no guy I’ve ever dated thought of my sob stories as foreplay.”

  He chuckled, his lips touching hers in a way-too-brief touch. “I didn’t say they were. I just want to know you, Georgia.”

  Her heart tripped. That’s what he thought he wanted. But in her experience, it was usually letting someone in that made them go.

  Chapter Twelve

  He was grinning like an idiot. There was no way the guys weren’t going to razz him. It’d be worth it though, he thought as he walked into the station. He and Georgia had a great time the other night. She’d agreed to go out with him again and yesterday, he’d swung by her shop with hot chocolate. She couldn’t hide her happiness when he walked in and it tied the strings a little tighter around his heart. Oh yeah, she was going to crush him. He didn’t even care.

  “Hey, lover boy,” Elliot called, not even looking up from his desk.

  “How come you never bring me hot chocolate?” Dolores looked up from a crossword puzzle, batted her very
thick eyelashes at him.

  Cam shook his head. “Because you like London Fog and are allergic to chocolate which you refuse to accept.”

  Her frown deepened the wrinkles she tried to hide with make-up. “It’s not right. It’s not even human to be allergic to chocolate. It’s like being allergic to air.”

  Both Elliot and Cam chuckled. Walking by Elliot’s desk, he went to his own. He had some paperwork to finish up and then he’d head out and do a drive around. It was his turn.

  “Can you come help me put together a couple things for the girls tonight?” Elliot swung around in his spinning chair.

  He was supposed to take Georgia over to Fairview Street. It was the fancy area of Angel’s Lake; all of their homes—estates—did the holidays up like celebrities. It was something to see for sure.

  “What time and what?”

  Elliot grinned. “Doll houses.”

  “You don’t know how to do that by now?”

  Cam knew this was because he might suck with a hammer, but give him an Allen key, anything from Ikea, or weird-ass directions for how to assemble something and he was a genius. His friends liked to take advantage.

  “I do. But I also need help picking up the drafting table Sam made for Kate. She’s shutting down the shop at the end of the day today for the holidays. So, I’ll drop it off there and we’ll go over on Christmas day. Figured you might as well help me with the other stuff since you’re like Rain Man with it.”

  Nice. Kate had come back from a stint in New York City working with elite fashion designers, realizing she wanted to live right here in Angel’s Lake. She and Elliot had been glued at the hip since her return. She’d taken to his twin daughters without hesitation. They’d married a few years ago and had another little girl, Janie, a couple years ago.

  “I was taking Georgia over to see the lights on Fairview Street.”

  Elliot clasped his hands together and fluttered his lashes. “Aw. Are you two going steady now?”

  “Bite me. Put your own dollhouses together.”