A Christmas to Believe In (5 page)

It might take him some time to warm up."

Instinctively, Clint reached between them to cover her

hand with his. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "It's

okay. I'm not offended."

She turned her hand over, and Clint's breath lodged in his

throat. A shift of her palm aligned her fingers with his. She

curled them closed, locked their hands together. Heat surged

up his arm and tripped his heart into double time. Damn. He

liked
the feel of her hand in his. Soft skin. The gentle press of

manicured nails.

He met her gaze, swallowed around the tightening of his

throat. At a loss for words, he drank deeply, ignoring the hot

brew's burn.

A warm smile brightened her blue eyes. "I didn't have a

chance to talk to you at the funeral. I've missed you. Your

brothers. Five years is a long time, Clint."

Too long, and yet, nowhere near long enough. He felt a

frown tug at his brow. Dismissing the pull of guilt, he

answered simply, "I bought a racing stable."

"A stable that, according to your mother, has a manager."

"Jim. Jim takes care of the horses. He's real good. Reliable.

Smart."

"So if he's there, what kept you away?"

At her question, his father's voice rang in his ears.
A farm?

I didn't pay thirty thousand dollars for you to go to college

and throw it away on horses.
Though the condemnation came

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ten years earlier, it still felt as raw as it had when Clint

bought his first horse. Each visit brought the same look of

disappointment behind his father's eyes.

Clint had tried to overcome it. Set out to prove himself to

his father. His dad had always made ends meet, always

turned everything he dabbled in, into a success. Clint spent

every waking morning trying to prove himself to his father.

Vowed one day he'd make him proud.

Except, his father passed before Clint ever broke even on

the land investment.

There were some things he couldn't bring himself to

acknowledge, not even to Jesse. Failure was one of them.

He cleared his voice and answered, "Jim's good, but he still

has a lot to learn."

The crinkles at the corners of Jesse's eyes deepened as

she chuckled. "You don't change, do you? Always have to do

everything yourself. One of these days, Clint, you're going to

have to trust someone to help you. You can't do it all."

"Hey, I'm doing a pretty good job."

Her smile dimmed as her expression softened with

seriousness. "Yes, I'm sure you do. You always have." Her

fingers tightened against his. "Your father was proud of you. I

can't tell you how many times he praised you. He knew what

you were doing wasn't easy. But he always supported you. I

don't know why you felt you had to stay away."

The lump in his throat hardened, and Clint looked down to

where their hands joined. He knew better than to try to hide

things from Jesse. She knew him too well. Could read him like

a book. Even Heath and Alex couldn't relate the way she

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could. Maybe it was because they'd been the closest. He

couldn't exactly define what bonded them, or how their

friendship differed from his brothers'. Yet, they'd related a

little better, spent a tad bit more time together.

Just like tonight. While his brothers remained at home, he

sat on her couch talking to her. Holding her hand.

Feeling her nearness far more than he had any right to

consider.

He lifted his gaze, found her deep blue eyes on him. The

light in them flickered with dark indigo. Under the intensity of

her steady stare, his heart thumped hard. Where they

touched, sudden sensation gathered. His palm twitched

against the sharp call to brush his thumb over the back of her

hand.

Between them, a foreign energy crackled. It enveloped his

senses, saturated his body. The fierce demand to lean in and

sample the fullness of her mouth rose fast and hard.

She was so close.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. The tantalizing sweep of

pink as she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue made him

suck in a sharp breath.

So damnably close. And damn it all, it made no sense, but

he wanted her. Wanted to feel the silky brush of her hair

against his skin. Wanted to tug that sweater over her head

and memorize breasts he'd long forgotten.

"I better go," he murmured.

"Yeah," she whispered.

Clint reached out to tuck a stray lock of dark hair behind

her ear. But when it was secured, he couldn't bring himself to

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retract his fingers. He cupped the side of her jaw in his palm,

brushed his thumb over her cheek.

Her lashes fluttered shut. She sat utterly still, the hitch in

her breathing hanging between them. Invitation beckoned.

This was a mistake. They'd both hate each other when it

was over. He should get up. Walk out the door. Give her a

kiss on the top of her head and drive away. Forget about the

way her perfume made him picture the way she'd tip her

head back while he explored her delicate throat by taste.

Aw hell.

Drawn to the call of her mouth, he leaned closer. "Jesse,"

he whispered against her lips.

"Mom! Sam's parents want to talk to you!"

The voice at the top of the stairs snapped Clint to his

senses. He drew back, chugged down his coffee. "I'll let

myself out."

It took a moment for Jesse to respond. Her throat bobbed

as she swallowed. The hand she pushed through her hair

shook. She cleared her throat. "I'll be right there."

Clint didn't linger. He set his cup on the bar and yanked on

his coat. "I'll be by in the morning to check on my horse."

"Okay." She jumped to her feet. "I'm sorry. I've got to

take this call."

He pulled the door open and stepped into the frosty air. He

was sorry, too. Sorry things had already changed between

them. Damn it all, he'd known trying to kiss her would be a

mistake.

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"Yes, that's fine, Brenda. Thanks for calling and for

understanding. I'll make sure Ethan's ready to go at six on

Wednesday. Talk to you then." Jesse dropped the cordless

phone onto the countertop and lifted her hand to her mouth.

Her lips still tingled from the airy brush of Clint's breath. Her

heart had yet to slow down.

Heaven above. He'd almost kissed her.

Her gaze strayed to the curtained windows that overlooked

the backyard, and she swallowed hard. Clint King, her older

brother for too many years to count, had tried to kiss her.

Worse, she hadn't tried to stop him. Instead, she'd sat

there on baited breath. Too afraid to exhale, for fear he'd

change his mind.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. This could not

be a good thing. She didn't dare get tangled up with a man

who'd walk away after the holidays. Any man, for that matter.

She needed to stay focused on Ethan. She'd filed the adoption

papers months ago. Everything complete, their final hearing

would come in two days. A family was his Christmas present.

The only thing he'd ever wanted. Clint wasn't part of that

vision. He couldn't be. Not when he lived in Kentucky.

Clutching at the countertop, Jesse opened her eyes and

looked toward the stairs. Ethan didn't need another man to

waltz into his life and sail out without a backward glance.

Ethan needed stability. Guidance. Love. He'd had more than

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his fair share of heartbreak and abandonment. While Clint

was everything she'd like Ethan to become, Clint would leave.

She let out a disappointed sigh, and her shoulders

slumped. Too bad, because she couldn't remember a time

where one possible kiss had made her tingle all over.

"Hey, Mom!"

With a blink, Jesse pulled herself out of her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"You gotta see this, this is cool!"

She chuckled under her breath and took a step toward the

stairs. Time to let go of fantasy. She was a mom now. Video

games and homework were more important than desire and

romance. Maybe later, when Ethan was older, she'd meet

someone who could light her up like Clint did. Someone who

didn't know all her embarrassing secrets.

"I'm coming."

Jesse mounted the stairs with her mug of coffee in one

hand. As she climbed, she watched the wide line of light that

trickled out of Ethan's half-closed door. When he'd first

arrived, he'd been so wild and hateful she'd made him leave

that door open all the time. He'd fought her tooth and nail,

until she'd finally asked her father to take the door off its

hinges.

Six months ago, he earned his door back. She'd even

granted him the right to close it, as long as he didn't lock it.

But now, Ethan chose not to. It stood always half-open, a

subtle invitation into his life.

They'd come so far.
He'd
come so far.

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She lightly rapped on the door as she eased inside.

"What's up?"

"Check this out. Look, when you go over this bridge,

there's a secret portal. It takes you under the wizard's castle,

and you pop up on the other side of the three-headed ogre.

Watch."

Doing her best to tamp back a chuckle, Jesse watched as

Ethan deftly maneuvered his Paladin character through the

game. His thumbs and fingers worked like pistons, executing

the secret maneuvers with an expertise she envied. No

matter how many hours she spent playing Dragon's Overlord

with him, she still couldn't achieve the dexterity his thirteen-

year-old fingers possessed.

"That's pretty cool," she remarked.

"Isn't it? You want to play for a bit?"

His gaze flickered off the television and landed on her.

Though he did his best to disguise his hopefulness by quickly

returning his attention to the screen, Jesse heard the quiet

plea behind his question. She glanced at the clock. Ten till

eleven, and she had to get up early.

Cringing, she answered, "I don't know, Ethan, it's getting

late."

"Aw, Mom. C'mon. I don't have school tomorrow."

Unable to disappoint him over something so benign, she

let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, all right. But only for a little bit. You

might not have school, but I still have to go to work."

He flashed her a bright smile and lobbed the second

controller through the air. Catching it, Jesse dropped cross-

legged onto the floor by his side. With a press of a button, her

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female warrior materialized at his character's side. "We have

to kill that vampire, don't we?"

"Yep. But Sam told me a new trick. If you use the bone

weapons, he takes more damage."

"Well, that's good to know."

Jesse watched as the screen flashed and turned in

response to Ethan's deft maneuvers. He led their small party

through a dark corridor littered with dead spiders, around a

sleeping dragon, and through the maze of the great wizard's

tower.

"So, you like him, or what?" Ethan asked quietly.

Jesse blinked. "Who?"

"That guy downstairs."

"Clint?"

"Yeah, him." His gaze slid sideways, rested on her for a

brief moment, then swept back to the screen. "Are you, like,

gonna start seeing him?"

It took all of Jesse's willpower to keep her jaw from falling

open. Ethan had always been perceptive. But how he'd picked

up on her wayward thoughts about Clint, she couldn't begin

to know. Had he seen their almost-kiss? No, she'd have heard

Ethan's footsteps overhead.

"Guess that's a yes," Ethan muttered.

"What? No! Don't be silly, Ethan. Why would you think

that?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. You've never brought a guy over

before. I figured..." He gave her another shrug.

Jesse reached across and set her hand on Ethan's knee.

"Hey, you don't need to worry about that. I went to high

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school with Clint. He'll be leaving after Christmas, and he's

just a friend." Despite the tide of disappointment that made

her stomach roll with her answer, she punctuated her

response with a smile.

"I'm not worrying. Ain't no business of mine."

The brusque tone, and his sudden lapse into the terrible

speech he'd arrived with, revealed the depth of Ethan's

concern about her dating. Her heart lurched at the vivid

glimpse into the heartache he carried underneath his tough

exterior. No matter how she tried, sometimes she wondered if

she'd ever really gain Ethan's trust. He gave her some, yet he