Rekindling Christmas (7 page)

Ryanne was thankful that they were
the only ones in the cozy area of the lobby. She stared into her mug of
chocolate, as if the floating marshmallows would reveal all the answers to the
questions that plagued her. Like the fact she didn’t understand why it bothered
her so much when the Latina woman saddled up to Carson as if she were staking
her claim on Ryanne’s old childhood neighbor. Last night, when she had seen the
woman climbing on a
stranger’s
body, Ryanne had only felt disgust at the
overt antics. But on the slopes when she recognized Phillip as the guy who had
taken shots from a woman’s cleavage, that meant that Carson had been the friend
beside him. The Hispanic chick’s inviting dialogue had confirmed that.

The knowledge had caused a sick
feeling in her stomach. More disgust? Or jealousy? At what point Carson had
become more than just a friend, she wasn’t sure.
Liar
, her mind
screamed. She recalled it vividly, but had buried it in her mind as she focused
on her schooling and then her career.

Taking a cautious drink, she glanced
at Carson Rodman, who had shockingly become a better-looking version of a Greek
god than his older brother had been when she was a teenager. Carson was taller
than Drew by at least three inches, at what she assumed was six-four. His dark-blond
straight locks, that had been kept long in a skater-boy style, were now short
and tapered around the sides and back, and just a little longer on top in
buzz-cut spikes, not quite military fashion. Now out of the bulky ski jacket
and only wearing his long-sleeved undershirt, she could see how much his chest
and body had filled out. From the skinny kid next door, he had grown into every
muscle. Buff and stacked, well-defined as any wide receiver, she could see why
Lanie wanted to put her hands all over him. Ryanne had the urge to do the same.

Trying to calm her racing heart as
images fluttered into her mind, placing her in the same position as Lanie had
been last night, Ryanne gulped her drink. Wincing, she stuck her tongue out as
she waved her free hand over it, trying to soothe the scalded flesh.

“You okay?” Carson leaned forward,
concern etched on his features.

“Wes,” she mumbled, still holding
her tongue out.

“You do know that hot cocoa is…hot?”

“Mart ash.” She stuck her tongue at
him. Pulling it in, she pressed it against the roof of her mouth, feeling the
heat.

He chuckled.

She enjoyed the sound. “I didn’t
mean to drink so much.”

“Maybe it should come with a warning,
like Mickey D’s coffee.” He lifted his mug, blew on it, and sipped, then arched
an eyebrow at her as if he were trying to give an example of how drinking hot
beverages was done.

“I forgot how much of a smart ass
you could be.” She couldn’t hold back the half grin as one side of her mouth
lifted as she gazed into the wood fire. She wanted to take off her boots and
curl her toes in the warmth, but she would have to wait until she got back up
to her room to do that before her small gas hearth.

“I hope you didn’t forget me as
well.” There was something in his voice she couldn’t pinpoint, but her mind
told her it wasn’t a nonchalant comment.

“No.” She just left it at that.

Glancing at his face, she allowed
her gaze to roam his features. He had thick, masculine eyebrows, just a little
darker than his hair, a perfectly straight nose slightly wider at the bottom,
and lips a little fuller than they should be on a white guy and red as an
apple. They always looked as if he’d just finished kissing someone for hours,
but they had been like that even when they were younger, so she knew they were
his true color. It was his gray eyes, the color of storm clouds, that caused
the biggest disturbance to her insides. They always appeared so intense and
full of mystery, like he was hiding secrets. She had an urge to discover what
they were.

“You never did answer my question.”

“What question was that?” She
crossed her legs, not sure what question she had missed.

“What have you been up to since freshman
year?”

Oh, man, he had asked her that. Then
she’d gotten distracted by his body and her emotions. “Nothing much. I
graduated from East Carolina. I interned at a company in Florida close by where
my parents moved, but I decided to go back and complete my master’s at ECU and
I was grateful that I landed a job in Charlotte. It’s always been home to me.”

“I’m surprised your mother didn’t
try to get you to stay in Florida.”

“You know my mother. Loving but
controlling. Hell, my sisters and brother and I were the only kids in our
neighborhood that went to private school. Not because it was better than the
public school, but she liked that she could call any day and get a report on
all of us.” She shook her head. “I’m glad they decided to move to Florida. I’ve got North Carolina all to myself.”

She smiled and he returned it.

“Well, not completely to yourself.”

“What do you mean?” She wrapped her
hands tighter around her mug.

“I still live in Charlotte.” A
lopsided grin appeared on his sexy lips. “In our old neighborhood, too.

“You do? You’re kidding!” She set
her mug on the table and leaned on the arm of the chair toward him.

“Nope. I own my parents’ house. You
know they moved to Connecticut to take care of my grandfather three years ago
when he had to have open-heart surgery. They didn’t want to sell it, and my
brother didn’t want it. You know he moved out West with his band after he
finished his associate’s at the community college.”

“I can’t believe you still live in
the old area.” For Ryanne there were so many memories of that place. Good
memories. Funny stories that she would one day share with her kids. “Remember
when your brother taught us both how to ride a bike?”

“I remember how you made us both
learn at the park down the street, in the grass because you didn’t want to skin
your knees if you fell.”

“Hey, it was the perfect thing to do.
I was really clumsy back then.”

He shook his head as his gray eyes
scanned her face. “You were never clumsy.”

“Maybe I just felt that way around…”
She allowed the words to drift away.

“Around my brother. You can say it.”
He looked into the fire then back at her. “I know how bad you had a crush on
him in high school.”

She pointed a finger at him. “That’s
not fair.
All
the girls had a crush on Drew. He was a garage rock star
and played at some of the cool kids’ parties.” That’s all it had been for her.
She had ogled and pretend-fainted when Drew looked her way, but it was what she
was supposed to do, along with the rest of the girls. Drew ate it up. “Besides,
outside of television shows, Drew was the only shirtless hunk I knew. There he
was, washing his car and mowing the grass, shirtless and tanned. What did you
want the girls in the neighborhood to do?”

He sank lower in his seat and sipped
from his mug. “I guess looks and muscles matter to girls.”

Was that jealousy or sadness in his
voice? Had Carson wanted some girl who slighted him for his brother?

“Until they grow up and learn
better. But you can’t really complain when you’re sitting next to me with
muscles practically ready to burst out of that shirt like Captain America.”
Just bringing his body into the conversation made her hands itch to glide along
his form. She’d always thought he was attractive, even when he was tall and
lanky and hanging out in the shadows of his brother and his sex-crazed best
friend. Now, Carson was drool-worthy.

“Well, I decided to try out for
soccer at UNC Chapel Hill my freshman year and I guess my body decided to show
up at the same time.”

“You and Phillip did nothing but
talk about being Tar Heels.”

Carson
gave her a cocky smile.

She laughed. She had no desire to
play into his prideful behavior. “So, that was eight years ago. What do you do
now to stay fit, bench press small children?”

He threw his head back and laughed.
“Nothing that extreme. Just a little exercise before work in the mornings,
mostly classic stuff like pushups, squats, planks and stuff. If you use your
body right, you don’t even need equipment.”

“Speak for yourself.” She ran on the
treadmill six days a week to keep a handle on her weight; she loved desserts
and treats too much.

“It looks like you filled out in all
the right places.”

“Well, a treadmill helps.”

Oh, shit, was Carson flirting with
her? In all the years she’d known him, he’d never so much as let on that he
wanted anything more between them. Except that one night after her family had
finished cleaning up her parents’ house after the move, getting it ready to
sell. He’d been headed back to college early, for training camp, and he’d
hugged her and told her that he’d miss her not living next to him anymore. They
hadn’t seen much of each other, with both of them at separate colleges, and
that summer had gone by too quickly with her packing up her parents and driving
with them to Florida. She’d only been back for a week and had hung out with Carson between renovation chores.

That night, they’d stood at her back
fence that led into his yard and stared at each other. Carson hadn’t stepped
back from the hug and neither had she. Their breaths had mingled in the humid
night air, and for a moment, she thought she saw his head angling down toward
her. But her mother had called her in and Carson moved away, dropping his arm.
He’d wished her good luck in college, and that had been that. In the morning
she drove back to school and hadn’t seen him again.

She got an occasional snippet of
information from his mother, by way of her mother, but that was rare.

“So, what do you say to a walk in
the village? I heard they have some interesting shops and the mountain view is
nice from there.”

She scrunched her nose and looked
out the big bay window to the snow-covered land. “I don’t know. It’s cold out
there.”

“I heard they have an ice cream shop,”
he teased.

Turning toward him, she gazed at him
through squinted eyes. “You play dirty, Rodman. You know I can’t resist ice
cream.”

“I know, McCall. You would make us
all drive to the ice cream parlor and sit outside and eat it.”

“It doesn’t melt. That’s the best,
so you don’t have to get sticky or chase the drips down your hand, like in the
summer.”

“Your logic. So, you game?”

“Fine. You convinced me.” She rose.

“No, the ice cream did.” He set his
mug on the table, stood, and helped her put on her coat.

He slowly zipped up her coat, and
she didn’t miss how the back of his hand grazed her breast as he passed it. She
was sure it was accidental, but that didn’t stop her nipples from drawing tight
below her bra and thermal shirt.

“There. Now you’ll be nice and
warm.”

She was already warm. Matter of fact,
her temperature was elevating to
blaze
standing this close to Carson.
Her mind replayed something that she’d tried to block out when they’d been
tangled in the snow: Carson’s thick erection, which she’d felt pressing into
her hips as she lay on him. She’d been so foozled and shocked to see him after
so many years, she’d focused on that, but she’d noted the swell all the same.

“Thanks.” She moved away and pulled
her gloves out of her pockets. “Don’t forget your jacket.”

“Got it.” He jerked it on quickly
and donned his hat and gloves.

“Now take me to the ice cream man.”

*           *           *

“You never told me what you do?” Carson walked along the storefronts with Ryanne as he licked his single scoop of rocky road.
At that moment, his tongue was frozen and cold chills were racing through his
body, brought on more from the ice cream than the freezing weather, but he was
happy. Ryanne McCall was by his side. All the nights he’d stared over at her
house fantasizing about her, he’d never really thought it was possible. Now he
did.

“I’m a junior product manager, a
position I just acquired not too long ago. I have the small business division
and I like it.” She swirled her tongue around her double scoop of triple
chocolate mousse and toffee crunch.

Carson was mesmerized by the
movement of her tongue, envisioning his cock as the cone and she was using that
agile tongue of hers to circle the head.
Shit
.

He flexed his jaw and glanced away,
staving off a groan and praying his semi-erect shaft didn’t harden further.

“Earth to Carson…come in, Carson.” She held her hand over her mouth and was making radio-crackling sounds behind it.

“What? Did you say something?”

She rolled her eyes and went back to
licking her ice cream for a moment. They passed an area with some benches
around a water fountain that was filled with snow instead of water. Too cold to
stand in one place for long, they kept moving.

“I asked what you do.”

He’d apparently missed the question
while staring at her sexy mouth. “I’m a programmer for NASCAR.”