Christmas in Eternity Springs (14 page)

BOOK: Christmas in Eternity Springs
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“Yes!”

“I think you're definitely going to need to tell me what ‘more' means to you.” If she was about to tell him that “more” didn't include sex like he feared, he might just break down and cry.

“An affair! Sex!”

God bless Eternity Springs.
“You want to have a fling?”

Her flush deepened and she nervously twisted her hands. “Well, if the idea appeals to you, then it's probably something … okay, it's definitely something … I'd be interested in.”

“Okay, then.”

She held up her hand, the universal signal for stop, and quickly clarified. “Not today or anything. We'd have to work up to it. But if it doesn't appeal to you, that's perfectly fine and I still want to be your friend and I don't want it to be weird between—”

For the second time that day, Jax stopped her by placing his finger against her mouth. He followed that with a quick hard kiss. “No wonder they call you Miss Christmas. You've just given me the best gift I can imagine. I'm definitely on board with the idea and to make it official…”

He took two steps toward the nearest doorway, reached up, and snagged a sprig of mistletoe. Then he laid it in the palm of her hand and folded her fingers around it. He brought her hand to his lips, kissed it, and asked, “Claire Branham, will you do me the honor of being my mistletoe fling?”

 

Chapter Nine

A positive thought? I'll give you a positive thought. Sex!

—JAX

Claire's pulse raced like a mountain biker's descending Sinner's Prayer Pass. She couldn't believe that she was doing this. Never had she been so precipitous and presumptive. Never in her life had she been so bold. The only explanation had to be that the man's kiss had short-circuited both her modesty and her sense of caution.

Yet, she had hung on to at least a thread of the latter because she managed to ask, “What is a mistletoe fling?”

“Whatever we want to make it.” He nibbled her finger and sent a shiver racing up her spine. “Though, since it is mistletoe, I think we should include kissing.”

“Okay.” Her cheeks grew warm.

His blue eyes glittered. “Lots of kissing.”

Heat flushed her entire body. “Okay.”

“I really like the way you kiss, Miss Christmas.”

Claire was foundering. She'd didn't have experience with this sort of … frankness … and it seemed that her brazenness had evaporated. Landon had been her first serious relationship since college, and he'd been Mr. Smooth Seduction, not Mr. Circling-Like-a-Shark while flashing a grin that telegraphed the message that he was waiting for the perfect moment to take a bite.

“You're a flirt, Mr. Lancaster.”

“Not usually, no. You bring it out in me. You're fun to tease. You get the prettiest embarrassed flush on your face. Lovely color against that alabaster skin of yours. Makes me wonder if you flush like that all over. I can't wait to see.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed a groan, then ducked out from beneath him and said, “I think maybe that's enough for now. It's work hours, not playtime.”

Her thundering heartbeat pounded out the seconds as she waited to see how he'd react. She couldn't have said whether she was relieved or disappointed when he nodded and took a step back. “I respect a taskmaster. Where do you want me to start?”

She opened her mouth to say “the bedroom” but better sense prevailed. “The kitchen, please.”

It was the easiest, most enjoyable move she'd ever made. They debated playlists for the worst music of the nineties and argued the merits or lack thereof of television sitcoms. Jax carried the larger, heavier boxes, and asserted his masculinity by fussing at her when she lifted something he judged to be too heavy. She tried not to ogle his muscles after he stripped off the flannel shirt he wore to reveal a plain white T-shirt, but doing so proved difficult. The man was built. Some of his time on the submarine must have been spent in a weight room.

She rode with Jax on the short trip out to Three Bears Valley. They exchanged casual conversation that helped her relax. The occasional steamy glance kept a nice little buzz running through her blood.

At his first look at the valley, Jax gave an appreciative whistle. “Now that's something right out of a tourist brochure.”

“That was my first thought, too. I'm so excited to have the opportunity to live here for a little while. Wait until you see the inside. Shannon Garrett created these fabulous mosaics in the kitchen and bath and on the fireplace facade.”

“Shannon from Murphy's Pub?”

“Yes.”

“That baby of hers is a beauty. How old is she? Six months?”

“Five, I think. Brianna is a doll and Daniel—Shannon's husband—is so cute with her. Have you heard how he ended up in Eternity Springs?”

Jax shook his head. “I don't believe I've met him.”

“He's a great guy and what happened to him is horribly sad.” She gave him a brief rundown of the tragedies Daniel Garrett had suffered and his role in Hope Romano's happy ending. “He's a real hero to the Romano family. Everyone is thrilled that his heart finally mended, and he's found his second chance at love.”

“You know, Claire,” Jax observed. “For a woman who isn't looking for a relationship, you sure sound like a romantic.”

“Oh, I'm a believer in relationships, and I love romance. Romance novels are my secret vice. It's just that relationships and forever-after are just not for me.”

They drove the next two miles in silence until Jax observed, “The lawyer really did a number on you, didn't he?”

She reached for nonchalance and studied the damage moving boxes had done to her manicure. “The contemptible Lying Lizard Louse? Yes.”

Jax took his gaze away from the road long enough to shoot her a steamy look. “His loss is my gain. If I ever meet him, I'll shake his hand.” He waited a few beats and added, “After I've knocked him on his ass.”

“My hero,” Claire said with a smile. Jax Lancaster was good for her psyche.

After they moved her boxes into Baby Bear with Jax toted the majority of her books up to the cabin's attic, God bless him, they returned to Forever Christmas where he insisted on helping tote the boxes that she needed upstairs up to her former apartment.

He trapped her twice beneath the mistletoe and kissed her senseless. Claire was happily anticipating a third time when he got a cell phone call and his first official job as Eternity Springs's new handyman.

“Gotta go,” he told her, catching her hand in his. “Larry has hooked me up with somebody who needs a faucet installed.”

“I can't thank you enough for your help, Jax.”

“I enjoyed it.” He skimmed his finger down her nose. “I discovered my newest favorite plant.”

“Mistletoe can kill its host, you know.”

“Yeah, but what a way to go.”

He gave her a thorough good-bye kiss and grabbed his flannel shirt and headed for the front door. Once she recovered enough to think again, she hurried after him. “Jax? Let me thank you for your help today. How about I cook dinner for you and Nicholas?”

“We would never turn down a home-cooked meal. When?”

She considered the question. “Give me today and tomorrow to get settled. Friday?”

“It's a date,” he said. Then with amusement glimmering in his eyes he added, “Although, that was a poor choice of words. This meal won't be a date, either, since I'll have Nicholas with me. And, you invited me rather than vice versa.”

“I can invite you on a date,” she protested.

“Absolutely. And I hope you will. Just not for our first date. I'd have to turn in my man card.”

“Now that's being chauvinistic, Jax Lancaster.”

“I'm a traditionalist about some things, Miss Christmas. Fair warning.” He gave a wave, and then the door chime sounded as he exited the shop.

Claire returned to her boxes and floated along in a happy daze for hours. If a soft little voice whispered in her ear to be careful, that she wasn't cut out for mistletoe flings and she was setting herself up for heartache, well, she did her best to ignore it. By mid-afternoon, she had three-fourths of the apartment converted to showroom, and she decided she'd shift her attention to settling into Baby Bear.

She set up her kitchen, made up her bed, and unboxed about half of her books before declaring that she'd done enough work for the day. Then she poured herself a glass of wine and took Tinsel out to play.

For supper, she decided to grill a steak. “I want to test out the gas grill before we have our first dinner guests,” she told Tinsel. “Although I might actually cook something. Maybe Tuscan chicken. Nothing smells better than rosemary and garlic sautéing in olive oil.”

And she wouldn't need to worry about garlic breath and … mistletoe … since Nicholas would be there.

Happy with her decision, her dinner, her life, Claire switched on the gas fireplace, chose a book from her to-be-read stack, cuddled Tinsel in her lap, and settled down to lose herself in a swashbuckling pirate historical romance. She hadn't enjoyed a day so much in a very long time.

It established a pattern for the next week. Claire had fun rearranging Forever Christmas, and she fell more in love daily with Tinsel. Chewing proved to be a bit of a problem, but house training was going better than she'd expected, so all was good.

After much debate, she stuck with steaks the night Jax and Nicholas came to dinner. Good thing, too, since Jax didn't let the lack of mistletoe stop him from taking advantage of his son's rapt attention on the puppy to steal a kiss.

That Saturday, despite the fact that for a rare weekend, Angel's Rest wasn't hosting a conference or wedding or other event that brought tourists to town, Forever Christmas had its biggest sales day ever. Maybe her buying craze at the summer market wouldn't turn out to have been such a disaster after all.

The excitement didn't stop there. On Wednesday, she was on a ladder in her Angel Room dusting the ornaments in preparation for the day when someone pounded on the front door of her shop. “What in the world?” She glanced at her Christmas cuckoo clock. Nine-fifty. She didn't open until ten.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Just a moment,” she called, more than a little annoyed as she descended the ladder. Who was in such a hurry today?

Walking toward the front of the shop, she spied a familiar figure through the glass. She stepped up her pace, threw the lock, and opened the door. Brick Callahan looked tired and disheveled, and he had a red stain on the front of his shirt. “Oh, Brick. What happened? Sit down, let me get the first-aid kit.”

“I don't need first aid.”

“But you're bleeding!”

“Bleeding?” he repeated, frowning in confusion. When she gestured toward his shirt, he glanced down. “Oh. No. That's not blood. Strawberry Kool-Aid. I've been babysitting the monsters while Nic and Gabe were busy bringing another one into the world.”

Relief washed over her. “Oh! Nic had her baby?”

Though his eyes remained tired, his smile flashed bright as lightning. “Yep. John Gabriel Callahan, Jr., arrived safe and sound twenty minutes ago, weighing in at a hefty eight pounds, twelve ounces.” He picked Claire up, spun her around, and kissed her hard on the mouth. “We have another Callahan man to unleash upon the world!”

Her friend's joy was infectious, and Claire laughed and returned his hug. It wasn't until he set her back on her feet that she saw someone had been watching the exchange.

With arms folded. And wearing a scowl.

She wiggled her fingers. “Hi, Jax.”

*   *   *

Jax knew he had no right to be so pissed at the sight of Claire with her mouth on another man. Nevertheless, he wanted to march forward and demand that the cowboy get his hands off Jax's mistletoe. Instead, he drawled, “Am I interrupting?”

Callahan turned toward him with a wide smile and not a glimmer of guilt. “Lancaster! Here, I have something for you.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar and handed it to Jax. “I have a new cousin to celebrate. I know that handing out cigars is usually the father's job, but Gabe asked me to help spread the word, and my grandfather sent about a million of the things to pass out. You want one, Claire? I know some women are into cigars these days.”

“Not me. No, thank you.”

The baby news mollified Jax. He wouldn't begrudge a friend a celebratory kiss—even if it was a shade too … enthusiastic. “Congratulations, Callahan.”

Claire asked, “Speaking of your grandfather, I thought Gabe and Nic were going to name the baby after him?”

“They originally intended to do that, but once Branch got word of it, he put the kibosh on the idea. Said it felt like a memorial, and he wasn't on the wrong side of the grass yet.”

Claire laughed and explained to Jax. “Branch Callahan is a rancher and oilman from Texas, and the best example of a lovable old curmudgeon I've ever met.”

“That reminds me,” Brick said. “Word around town is that you might be interested in doing some finish work we need done out at the North Forty, Lancaster. If you've got time in the next few days, I'd like to get your bid.”

Another job.
Yes.
With that he felt a little more generous toward the man. “The North Forty?”

“It's the family's summer retreat out at Hummingbird Lake. My uncles work together to build something every summer. This year's project was a dance hall, and as usual, the scope of the thing grew while they were building it. They didn't get it finished. I have my hands full with Stardance, so I don't have time to mess with it.”

“I'd be happy to take a look at it. How about tomorrow morning after I drop my son off at school?”

“That'd be great.” As Callahan gave him directions to the property, he spied someone else with whom he wanted to share news about the baby. He handed Jax a second cigar and moved on.

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