Mistletoe Season by Michelle Major
CHAPTER SIX
SAMHADNEVERdreamed of kissing Bella, not in any real way. Yet, at the first brush of his lips across hers, it felt as though she was an answer to a question he’d been asking all of his life.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along the seam of her mouth. She opened for him, and his knees went weak when she drew closer. His hands sifted through her soft hair and he reveled in the soft moan she made in the back of her throat. Bella might be practical and understated, but she kissed like a woman on a mission.
It was almost too much. His need for her threatened to obliterate every last shred of common sense he possessed.
He’d get back to that common sense part in a second. First, he released her mouth to run a trail of kisses along her jaw and down the graceful column of her throat. His body hummed with satisfaction at the sweetness of her skin and the scent of lemons that enveloped him. She had a tiny beauty mark just above her collarbone, and for the past several months it had tempted him beyond measure every time she wore a shirt with a collar low enough to reveal it.
He kissed that tiny mark the way he’d wanted to and heard her tiny gasp at the same time he felt her pulse flutter. That was just the start of what he wanted to feel from her, but he forced himself to pull away.
Her eyes were hazy as she stared up at him, and Tater let out a plaintive whine from where he’d come to stand next to her. What did it say about the situation that the dog seemed to have more sense than either of the humans involved?
“Merry Christmas, Bella,” he said, and cupped her face between his hands.
She gave him a shy smile that turned his insides to goo in a way Sam would have sworn he was impervious to. “I got you a present,” she told him, eyes twinkling.
“I think you just gave me a present.”
He could almost feel the heat of her blush and wondered for just the briefest moment, if that color would extend all the way down her body.
It felt like a question he had to have answered.
As if she was answering his unspoken prayer, Bella stepped back and held out a hand to him. “You should probably come in and see what else I have for you.”
It was a damn miracle Sam remained standing, based on the fact that his heart stammered and his knees nearly buckled.
He might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but Sam was no fool. He’d stopped believing in Kris Kringle or Christmas miracles a long time ago. Still, he took Bella’s hand and followed her into the cabin, Tater trotting along, the cast not slowing him down in the least.
When Bella shut the dog in his crate, turned out the lights and led Sam to the small bedroom at the back of the structure, it was like every Christmas wish he’d ever had coming true all at once.
BELLAWALKEDTOWARDthe main cabin the following morning, her mind and heart a tangle of nerves and hope. Sam had left her bed in the wee hours after lavishing so much attention on her body, she thought she might die from the pleasure of it.
Merry Christmas, indeed. No wonder he was so popular with women, both in his hometown and in Magnolia.
A man with skills like that was quite a rarity, at least in Bella’s experience, measly though it might be.
She’d been the one to suggest he return to his room before anyone in his family noticed his absence. As amazing as their night together had been, Bella didn’t relish being a topic of conversation for his family on Christmas morning.
Another secret part of her didn’t trust that their night together—as special as it was—meant the same thing to him as it did to her. What if she’d been a convenience, an easy, friends-with-benefits way to pass the time.
The front door to the resort’s main cabin opened as she approached up the flagstone walk. But it was Kyle who greeted her, not Sam.
“Merry Christmas,” he said with a wide smile.
She wished him the same and led Tater into the resort. They entered the kitchen, where Jayne was icing cinnamon rolls while Pete drank his coffee at the large mahogany table. Bella knew Heidi and Marla, along with their husbands and kids, would be joining them later that morning, once they’d all had their private family Santa gift exchanges.
She hugged Jayne and waved at Sam’s dad, who wished her a Merry Christmas, then turned his attention back to the sports section of the local newspaper.
“Sam’s still asleep,” Kyle told her when he noticed her glancing around.
“He’ll be up once the kids get here,” Pete said, flipping a page and taking a long swig of coffee. “Have some coffee, Bella,” he suggested. “We’re all going to need stamina for the pint-size tornado that will hit once the rug rats get here.”
Bella grinned and headed for the pot on the counter. She got a kick out of Pete’s gruff attitude when it was clear he was a pushover for any and all of his grandkids.
“It wouldn’t be Christmas without Sam indulging in some random holiday hookup,” Kyle observed.
Bella’s hand stilled on the coffeepot.
“No need to be rude,” Jayne told her stepson. “Sam is obviously maturing. He’s different than usual this year.”
“Sam might be more discreet,” Kyle muttered, “but he’s the same as he ever was.” He gave Bella a pointed look when she turned with her mug. “Trust me.”
“Well, Merry Christmas to you, too, big brother.”
They all turned as Sam entered the kitchen, hair tousled and wearing baggy sweats and a faded UNC T-shirt.
“It’s true.” Kyle placed his hands on his hips. “It’s the same little Sammy show we’ve all seen for years. You might know how to have fun, but you’re not a good long-term bet.”
“What the hell do you care what kind of bet I am?” Sam demanded.
Kyle turned to face Sam, and the way they stared at each other made Bella think of some old-time Western standoff. She didn’t like it one bit—or the worry crawling over her skin that she might have something to do with the animosity radiating between the two of them.
“She’s different,” Kyle said through clenched teeth. “She deserves better than you.”
“Agreed on both counts,” Sam answered without hesitation.
Bella sucked in a small gasp of air and felt Jayne shift closer to her. “It’s okay,” the older woman whispered.
“You’re using her,” Kyle spit out, his tone disgusted. “Probably because you knew it would piss me off.”
Bella waited for Sam to argue. Of course what had happened between them had nothing to do with his brother.
He only smirked. “You must think a lot of yourself, Kyle. More than I would have guessed. Especially when we both know all I have to do is breathe wrong in your hallowed vicinity and it would make your blood boil. Getting under your skin isn’t even a challenge.”
“You’re going to hurt her like you hurt all of them.” Kyle gave a laugh entirely devoid of humor. “At least the ones with any sort of heart or dignity.”
“They have a good time, which is more than you can offer,” Sam countered. “If casual works for Bella and me, then it’s none of your business.”
Casual.Bella’s stomach seemed to turn inside out. It was just what she’d been afraid of.
“What’s all this about?” Pete pushed back from his chair, lifting his reading glasses off his nose.
“Who wants a cinnamon roll?” Jayne asked, offering the plate to Bella.
Bella could barely swallow past the humiliation clogging her throat.
“You ruin everything,” Kyle said, his voice tight with anger.
“Enough,” Pete shouted, but it was too late.
Sam launched himself at his brother, and they both went tumbling to the floor, a rolling fracas of punches and angry grunts.
Tater came running into the room, followed closely by Gracie. The puppy clearly thought the two men were playing a game, and he wanted in the mix. He pounced on the two of them, then yelped when he was tossed to the side and his cast hit the corner of the doorway.
Gracie let out a series of angry barks as she came to nudge the puppy, and Bella wanted to follow suit even though Sam and Kyle stopped fighting.
They both sat up, looking equally guilty, and Sam held out a hand to Tater. “Come here, boy.”
“Don’t touch him.” Bella managed to give the command with a steady voice.
“Bell, I’m sorry,” he said at once. “About all of it. You know last night—”
“No.” She cut the air with her hand, then bent to scoop up her dog. “I suppose I should thank you for the good time,” she said, feeling heat blaze in her cheeks. “But I don’t have it in me.”
She turned to Kyle. “I don’t need anyone to fight my nonexistent battles,” she said with a sniff. “I’m a big girl, and I know what Sam is and isn’t able to give.”
Glancing up from the brothers, she saw Jayne dash a hand over her cheeks, obviously swiping away a tear. Pete offered her a sympathetic shrug, then moved toward his wife.
Bella hurried toward the front door, wondering how she was going to escape the worst Christmas she’d ever had.