Second Chance Christmas (The Colorado Cades) (11 page)

Luckily, there was a laundry room here. By the time Justin and Elisabeth set out tomorrow morning, their garments would be freshly cleaned and dried.

Aware that Justin also deserved a hot shower, she turned off the water and quickly toweled off. The robe was thick and generous, completely covering her from her chin to her toes. Despite being swathed in soft fabric, being naked beneath it made her feel scandalously exposed. She ignored the irrational sensation and stepped out of the bathroom, the hem of her robe trailing on the hardwood floor.

In the main room of the cabin, cedar-scented flames now crackled in the fireplace. “I see you’ve made yourself useful,” she said approvingly. “Shower’s all yours. While you’re in there, I’ll scavenge for dinner supplies.”

“Sounds good. Back in a sec,” he told her.

There weren’t any perishables in the kitchen, but there were a number of soups available. She pulled out a selection of them and lined up some options next to the electric can opener. When she reached into a cabinet of pots and pans, the excessive metallic clanking made her realize how badly her hands were shaking. The shower had helped bring her stress level down from stratospheric heights, but there was more progress to be made.

She plugged in the portable CD player on the counter and dug through the rack next to it until she found some soothing instrumental music. Then she went to the back of the walk-in pantry, looking for the slim wine rack that hung on the wall. There weren’t many bottles, but one was a start.

With a glass of cabernet in her hand and a jazzy piano solo filling the room, she started to feel a little lighter. When she hadn’t known where Kaylee was, she’d felt as if she were suffocating on her own fear, unable to breathe in oxygen past the dread. What would she have done if Lina’s call had been different? If Kaylee hadn’t been unharmed when she was found? Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. What if... Horrible possibilities played out in her mind, each worse than the last.

“Hey! Hey, you okay?”

Elisabeth jerked her head up, wondering how long Justin had been standing there in front of her, his rugged features pinched with concern. He was a welcome focal point, a distraction from her awful thoughts. Because of his height, the matching robe he wore didn’t cover quite as much of him as it did her. The material stopped around his knees, revealing his well-muscled calves and bare feet.

“This is stupid, isn’t it?” She wiped furiously at her eyes, embarrassed to be caught in the middle of her meltdown. “I didn’t cry when we were looking for her, so what the hell is the point in crying now?”

“Totally normal. I see it post-rescue all the time.” Taking her hand, he drew her toward the couch. “You were being brave earlier, holding it together, following my instructions. But now comes the aftershocks. The release of all that pent up emotion. The relief that’s too strong to contain.”

They sat down, and he put his arm around her, pulling her close and letting her cry on his shoulder. He seemed big and safe and larger than life.

Slowly, the tears ebbed and details began to penetrate her senses. The fire was heating the room nicely. Balmy lassitude seeped through her bones, driving out the last of the cold, and her muscles were relaxing under Justin’s touch. He’d started by patting her back in a steady, impersonal manner. It wasn’t much different than how she comforted Kaylee after some of her bad dreams. But at some point the patting had turned to something gentler, more intimate. He was rubbing slow circles that traversed from the small of her back all the way up to the bare skin of her neck.

Meanwhile, the instrumental CD had progressed from meditative pieces to earthier music. Whatever song was playing now bore no resemblance to the previous innocuous track. This piece had started with a piano and violin, two solos that fused into a single haunting melody as the rhythm escalated in a beautifully relentless beat. She took a deep breath, hoping to clear her head, but the scent of Justin’s skin made her dizzy.

“You smell good,” she murmured.

Angling his head away slightly, he peered down at her. “Can’t take credit for that.” He grinned. “It’s from the quality bath products your family keeps stocked here.”

“No. I wasn’t talking about the soap. Underneath it, you smell like...you.” Warm, familiar, alluring. She wanted to nuzzle his skin. That thought caused her to sit bolt upright. What was she doing?

He raised his eyebrows at her abrupt departure. “Everything all right?”

“F-fine.” Except that every cell in her body seemed to have just realized it had been over five months since she’d had sex and felt that was too long. She had no business snuggling up to her ex and commenting on how good he smelled.
Although...
if she was babbling compliments, at least she’d stopped shy of telling him he had magic hands. “I left my wineglass in the kitchen. I—”

“On it,” he volunteered. He stood, pivoting his body toward the kitchen. Unfortunately, he hip-checked the lamp on the end table. The light fixture crashed to the ground. “Hell. Sorry about that. I’m not usually clumsy.”

“I know.”

Usually, he moved with mesmerizing, fluid grace. On the slopes, on the dance floor and in the bedroom. Not that Justin necessarily needed the convention of a bed.

He bent down to pick up pieces of the lamp, but stopped, staring blankly at the floor. His voice had a raw, hollow quality to it. “You’re not the only one shaky after what happened.”

That confession sliced through all her defenses. He’d been as scared as she had been. And she imagined that admitting it wasn’t easy on his male pride. She scooted to the end of the couch and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hug. It was her turn to comfort him.

“She’s okay,” Elisabeth whispered, her words for both of them.

“Yeah.” He touched her forehead to his, his relief palpable. “She’s okay.”

They stayed like that, her leaning over the arm of the couch and him kneeling in the floor, and even though Elisabeth registered on an intellectual level that this proximity was too close to be wise, she couldn’t force herself to move. The CD must have reached its end, because the music had stopped. The only sounds were the snap and sizzle of wood in the fire and their breathing. Breathing that grew faster and more ragged the longer they remained in place.

If someone had asked Elisabeth later, she honestly couldn’t have said which one of them leaned in for the kiss, which one moved that final inch that separated them. All she knew was that Justin’s mouth was on hers, where it belonged. Need surged through her, shivering along her nerve endings and making her tremble. He rose slowly, until he was in place to gently tip her back on the couch.

Once she was stretched across the sofa cushions, he joined her, his weight on top of her such a perfect fit that she almost whimpered at how good it felt. Earlier, when they’d been out in the blizzard, she’d felt as though she might never be warm again, but now heat pulsed in her veins. Hot, achy desire. The snow and fear were from a fading nightmare; only this was real. Only Justin.

She kissed him deeply, threading her fingers through his hair and holding him close. Meanwhile, his fingers were busy with the sash on her robe. She hadn’t managed to untie his yet, but she’d pushed the fabric apart to give her better access to that chiseled chest.

“You and knotted belts,” he whispered against the curve of her throat. “How do you make them so freaking sexy?”

“I do?”

“You have this trench coat dress...” With a soft growl, he nipped at her skin. Then he lifted his weight just enough that the material of her robe slipped away from her body, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze. His expression was so intense it almost made her self-conscious, but before insecurity could take root, he lowered his head and captured the tip of her breast in his mouth. Any fleeting shyness she’d experienced was annihilated by the sharp pleasure that blasted through her.

By the time he replaced his lips with his fingers, plucking at her pebbled nipple as he kissed his way down her body, she was nearly frantic. Her body clenched with need, her thighs had fallen open in wanton invitation. She needed him inside her.

But he had other ideas. At the first brush of his tongue over her, she cried out his name. He wrung shouts and pleas from her as she writhed beneath his mouth. Thank God they were in an isolated cabin, their carnal activities drowned out by the howling wind.

“Ah, Beth, the way you feel.” The rasp of his voice was a turn-on all by itself. “The way you taste...”

Her orgasm rose quickly, striking with such electric force she imagined it was like being hit by lightning. Really, really
good
lightning.

Yet somehow, even at the edge of bliss, it wasn’t quite enough. She heard herself say, “I want you inside of me.”

He groaned. “You’re killing me, baby. There’s nothing I want more, but I wasn’t exactly prepared for this. Unless you’ve got some kind of birth control...”

“No.” She’d never done well with the Pill, and since she and Steven hadn’t— Mortification seized her previously limp muscles. Steven. As of yesterday morning, she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with him. Now, less than twenty-four hours after their breakup, she was being intimate with a man she’d sworn she would never be involved with again. She sat up, hugging the robe tight to her body. “What did I just do?”

Justin stared at her, his mouth twisted in a wry smile as if he couldn’t decide whether he was insulted or amused. “If it makes you feel better, darlin’, I think technically
I
did it.”

At the thought of exactly what she’d let him do, and the equally intimate things she’d eagerly wanted to do in return, her face flamed. She tunneled her fingers in her hair, pressing her palms to her temples. “I’m so sorry,” she said, ashamed of her needy behavior and the state she’d left him. “This was radically unfair to you.”

“To me?” He didn’t look at her. “Or your fiancé?”

“I don’t have a fiancé.” She held up her bare left hand. “Not anymore. We said our final goodbyes this morning.”

Justin paled. “I can’t say I thought he was the best thing to ever happen to you, but I hope I—”

“It wasn’t your fault. Ending things before they went any further was best for everyone.” She couldn’t honestly say yet what she wanted. But she knew what she didn’t want. “Kaylee and I aren’t going to California.”

And she was 100 percent positive that she’d made the right decision. It occurred to her that at no time today had she wished he was here with her. She hadn’t wanted him to hold her and tell her Kaylee would be safe.

“So you’re single?” he asked haltingly.

“Free as a bird. Just like you.”

The silence was swollen with possibilities, all the things she or Justin could say but didn’t dare.

Finally, he turned to meet her gaze. “I think we may need something stronger than red wine to drink.”

Chapter Ten

“Got it!” came Elisabeth’s triumphant cry from the cabin’s main bedroom.

When Justin had asked about liquor, he’d been half kidding, but she’d snapped her fingers and said, “The family wall safe. I’d forgotten all about it.”

While he waited for her to pillage the mysterious safe, he’d looked through the CD rack and settled on a compilation of ’80s hits. He’d seen the conflicting emotions ravaging Elisabeth’s face after the shortest afterglow ever, and he’d experienced his own twinges of regret. Despite his reputation for seeking out a good time wherever he could find it, he had always steered clear of other men’s wives and fiancées. His parents had loved each other deeply—he himself refused to ever marry, but he still respected the institution. While he was relieved to learn she and Steven had broken up, she’d barely had a chance to process the split before Justin had unthinkingly pounced on her. He’d needed to hold her so badly he hadn’t stopped to consider obstacles or consequences.

After all the anxiety and remorse today, he hoped his musical selection would help lighten the mood. It was hard to beat yourself up while you were walking on sunshine or building cities on rock and roll.

“Look what I found.” She held out a nicely aged single barrel bourbon. “Emergency stash for medicinal purposes. Like how they used to put casks of liquor around the necks of Saint Bernards for mountain rescues.”

He suspected the brandy barrels were a myth, but who was he to argue with a beautiful woman bearing high-end liquor?

While searching the cabinets for glass tumblers, they discovered an unopened bag of marshmallows. Under other circumstances, this evening might have been his idea of a perfect date.

Elisabeth took the marshmallows out of his hand. “Soup first, dessert later.”

“Killjoy,” he teased.

“I have to practice being tough now that I’m a mom.”

Mom
was such an odd word to ascribe to her. On the one hand, she seemed far too young and sexy to be the mother of an elementary schoolchild—Michelle Truitt had been a few years older. But he had to admit that Elisabeth had adapted well to her new role. When she’d warned him this evening that she’d be going into that snow with or without him, she’d been fiercely maternal.

As they waited for the soup to boil, he took a generous slug of bourbon, trying to suppress how shaken he’d been by Kaylee’s disappearance. That’s what being a father would mean—that soul deep vulnerability at all times, the fear that something precious to you could be ripped away with no warning. As his brother had experienced firsthand.

On the mountain today, Meredith Lamb had escaped generally unscathed. But Justin had seen searches go the other way. And he knew the bald terror that Mr. Lamb and other dads suffered while waiting for news.

Thankful for the calming influence of the liquor, he took another smaller sip. “So explain to me again about this Cupboard of Doom?”

“It’s a storage space in the office, lower to the ground than most closets but very deep. My father, unbeknownst to anyone, has been working late to clean it out. Apparently he didn’t shut the door all the way last night and when Kaylee saw the edge cracked open, she got curious. It was like discovering her own little cave. She didn’t sleep worth a damn last night, so I guess it’s not surprising that she drifted off.”

While the adults in her life had been standing only yards away trying not to hyperventilate, she’d been snoozing away, completely oblivious.

Elisabeth stirred the soup, looking pensive. “Funny thing is, I always thought Dad needed me to organize that cupboard. He talks about needing me—they all do—like I’m the one who makes the big decisions. But I don’t think they realize how much
I
need
them
. I’m not even sure I realized it myself until today. Family is...”

He stared into the bourbon, wondering how long Colin would stay in town before taking off again, how long it would be before Arden began gathering boxes and asking Justin to help her pack.

“This is what you were trying to warn me about when you asked me to lunch last week, isn’t it?” she asked. “I was too stubborn to listen.”

He didn’t blame her. “I haven’t given you much reason to value my opinions.”

“But I do.” Her tone held a note of wonder, as if she herself was surprised to discover how much his thoughts still mattered to her. She smiled up at him. “In everything but decorating Christmas trees. You’re a complete disgrace in that area.”

When he laughed, her hand moved toward him as if she’d been about to touch his face. Instead, she simply shook her head.

“Your eyes seem so out of place.” Although the words might have sounded vaguely insulting, her expression was a different matter.

“Out of place? I recall a certain redhead who used to tell me all the time that she loved my eyes.” He stepped closer, holding her gaze for effect.

Her cheeks flushed prettily. It was endearing that after the explicit nature of what they’d shared on the couch she still reacted to such harmless flirtation.

“It’s wintry and bleak tonight,” she said, pointing out the window. “Hostile. I gotta tell you, after today, I’m kind of over snow for a while. Then there’s you, with those eyes like the Caribbean. Sun and seduction, the ability to make a girl feel like she’s a million miles from here.”

He blinked. “For a woman who cultivates such a no-nonsense, aloof image, that was damn near poetic.”

“Yeah, well.” Turning her back to him, she ladled hearty potato soup into bowls. He almost missed it when she mumbled, “You know me better than that. You always have.”

It was a one-eighty from her position on Saturday, when she’d claimed that she had changed and he no longer understood her. Now, she made herself vulnerable by admitting she’d been wrong, admitting that he saw the parts of her she normally hid. He was humbled. Of all the people in Cielo Peak, what had he done to deserve these private glimpses at such an amazing woman? How could he repay her trust in him?

I can’t be what she needs
. She had agreed to marry Steven, had actively planned to spend the rest of her life with him. Even though their relationship hadn’t panned out, he was obviously the type of man she envisioned loving. And he was about as far from who Justin was as a man could get.

Then again, if Elisabeth had been satisfied with what Steven had to offer, she wouldn’t have broken the engagement. As Arden had noted, Elisabeth hadn’t looked truly happy with him. She’d never had that goofy, I-am-so-crazy-about-this-person smile that Arden got whenever Garrett set foot in a room.

One song on the CD faded into the next, and a low beat started, accompanied by a fiddle and then the boisterous trill of piano, leading into the vocals of “
Come On, Eileen
.” On a whim, Justin grabbed her hand and spun her in a tight circle, whirling around to the catchy up-tempo song. When her green eyes lit with laughter, he felt as if he’d won the lottery. This was how she should look—giddy, flushed, full of life and energy.

Improvising dance moves in floppy robes was silly. There shouldn’t be anything sexy about it. Yet he kept getting tantalizing glimpses of her legs, kept remembering how easy it was to tug on that sash and have her gorgeous curves bared to him. And judging from the glances she stole at him from beneath her lashes, she wasn’t unaffected by their physical closeness. Was she thinking about kissing him again?

He briefly considered ransacking the cabin in search of condoms, but a latent shred of chivalry stopped him. What he and Elisabeth had shared earlier had been spontaneous combustion, nothing premeditated. He was thinking more clearly now. Clear enough to note that she’d been through a hell of a lot today. He wasn’t so depraved that he went around seducing single mothers when their emotional defenses were down.

If he kept telling himself that over and over, he might make it through the night.

When the song ended, they took their soup—and the bottle of bourbon—into the living room. She sat on the sofa with her legs tucked up beneath her, the voluminous robe swallowing her whole. Setting his stuff on the end table, he glanced toward the hearth. Behind the grate, the fire had dimmed from active flames to glowing embers.

“Guess I should see what I can do to get that going again,” he commented. “It’s pretty dark in here.”

“Yeah. You know what this room could really use?” she asked with a straight face. “A lamp.”

He grinned. “Smart-ass.”

An hour later, once they’d eaten their fill and dutifully washed the dishes, he asked her if it was time to revisit those marshmallows. They found fondue skewers to roast the marshmallows in the fireplace. Elisabeth’s were evenly brown on all sides. His caught on fire. She mocked his charred dessert, haughty in her marshmallow superiority.

“I’ll have you know, these are still gooey and delicious on the inside,” he told her.

“I’ll take your word for it. I prefer to be patient. With just a tiny bit of extra time and care, mine turn out perfectly every time.”

“Have I told you how good you are with Kaylee?” he asked. “A natural-born mother.”

She whipped her head around, startled. “Where did that come from?”

“You manage to make even roasting marshmallows a life lesson. She’s gonna learn a lot from you, and you’ll make sure she has fun and develops plenty of self-confidence along the way.”

“Thank you.” She looked so staggered that it was almost disturbing. It wasn’t as if he’d never paid her compliments before.

“What’s with the shock—don’t you think you’re doing a good job with her?”

“Now might not be the best time to ask me,” she said drily, “considering you and I are stuck here because I lost her.”

“Beth, that could have happened to any parent. And you didn’t lose her. She was right where she was supposed to be.” He shrugged. “We just weren’t looking hard enough. Maybe I’ll get you some of those
Where’s Waldo?
books for Christmas. You know, for practice.”

She reached into the bag and threw one of the untoasted marshmallows at him. “When I tell her we aren’t going to California, maybe she’ll lift her Christmas embargo. I’m worried about how to handle it, though.”

“Christmas?”

“Telling her the wedding’s off,” she clarified. “I want to be compassionate about what she’s been through, but that doesn’t give her a full-access pass to be a brat when things don’t go her way. In this particular case, it worked out that she’s going to get what she wants, but I can’t let her think it’s because of how she behaved. Do you think she told me she didn’t want Christmas just because she was ticked off about the move, or do you think, on some level, she really is dreading the holiday without Michelle?”

“I couldn’t say.” Justin gazed into the flames. “For me personally, Christmas hasn’t been the same since my mom died. I’d prefer to skip it altogether. But Kaylee’s younger than I was when I lost my mother, probably more resilient. Arden still adores Christmas. She makes a huge fuss—”

“Oh, no! Arden.” Elisabeth pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I won’t be able to hire her for the wedding after all. I’m a lousy friend, asking her to pencil us in on such short notice, then canceling.”

“She’ll understand.” In fact, he doubted his sister would be the least bit surprised. It seemed she’d known what she was talking about when she’d implied Elisabeth wasn’t meant to be with Steven.
But that does
not
mean she’s right when she says Elisabeth and I belong together.

The CD had stopped, and the fire was dying down again.

“Sorry there’s no TV in the cabin,” Elisabeth said. “You’re probably bored out of your mind.”

“Not exactly.” He would welcome a distraction, though. Because he’d been watching her lick the sticky bits of marshmallow from her fingers, and he was rock hard beneath the robe.

“I think there are some games in the closet.” She stood, wobbling a bit when she caught her toes in the hem of the bathrobe. He steadied her, taking the opportunity to slide his hands up her smooth calves. “Th-thanks. So, um, games.”

At the end of the room was a narrow closet. She opened the door, marveling at the selection. “Jeez. We’ve got a ton of them.”

He joined her, ostensibly studying the boxes but mostly enjoying her nearness.

“Anything in particular you’re good at?” she asked.

He smirked. “You tell me.”

She narrowed her eyes in a quelling look that would have been more effective if he hadn’t seen the flash of heat in her gaze first. And if her earlier, throaty cries of satisfaction didn’t still ring in his ears.

“To rephrase,” she said sternly, “is there a particular board game you prefer?” She read off the names of a few that were meant for young children, another he’d never heard of, and Clue. “Although, I think you need three players for that one. We also have Monopoly.”

Which could stretch on for hours. He didn’t think he and his siblings had ever successfully completed a full game during his youth. “Beth, we’re trapped here for the night, not ’til spring thaw.”

Her eyes flickered with emotion. “Is that how I make you feel? Trapped?”

She clearly wasn’t talking about tonight, and he hadn’t been prepared for the question.

“No! No, you make me feel...” Humbled and strong and possessive and weak. Aroused and unbalanced and bewildered. He backed away. “I know I hurt you when we broke up, probably more than I realized at the time, but you have to know I didn’t leave because of anything you did wrong. I—”

“Please tell me you aren’t about to insult me by recycling the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ chestnut.”

“Um. More bourbon?”

She pulled a box out of the closet and slammed the door.

He peered over her shoulder. “What did you decide on?”

“Jigsaw puzzle.” She lifted her chin. “There comes a time when you shouldn’t play games anymore.”

* * *

Y
AWNING
BEHIND
HER
HAND
,
Elisabeth looked up from her three-quarters completed aerial view of Paris and checked the time.

From the other side of the card table, Justin shook his head at her. “If you’re tired, why not go to bed?”