All I Want For Christmas: Holiday Romance Page 8

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she told him, pulling him down to her.

  His lips were soft. Just enough pressure to remind her of this feeling, and yet enough to announce that this was not going to be like other kisses she’d had. Cole had a smile to his kiss, drawing one from her lips in the process. His lips fitted hers perfectly, pressing slowly, carefully, deliberately, letting her know that was exactly where he wanted them to be and for exactly as long as he wanted them there. It triggered her pulse, sending it to the sky.

  “I’ve been wondering what this would be like,” she said breathlessly.

  His lids lifted just enough for his eyes to flick to hers before his hands guided her face, returning her to him. “What, this?”

  His lips coaxed and teased, and the taste of him sent her spinning. His mouth to hers, both with and against, a delicate ebb and flow that opened her heart to him each time his lips parted. Her hands scaled his shoulders and up into his hair, and he pulled her closer, their chests pressing, his arms enfolding her, the kiss deepening and melting all at once, until his teeth caught her bottom lip and tugged just enough before pulling away.

  “And?” he said. “How is it?”

  “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

  She pulled him to her again, and they lost all sense of anything concrete except for each other. His pulse became hers; her breath became his. Somehow, he managed to turn so they were no longer in the doorway beneath the mistletoe, but against the wall.

  “I probably need to get going.”

  She let out a little grumble, earning another tantalizing grin.

  “But I have more plans,” he whispered against her mouth. “Would you like to be privy to them?”

  “You and your plans.”

  He pecked a kiss once more. Maybe twice. Okay, several times. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

  “I am a contractor, after all,” he said after several more minutes.

  “So you’ve told me,” she said, feeling the strength of his arms around her. “What’s next?”

  “Work party,” he said, swallowing and guiding her back to the laundry room to retrieve his coat and shoes. “New Years’ Eve. I need a date.”

  A date. With Cole Osteen, a handsome contractor with star-searing eyes, who took his nieces to the zoo, told her son stories to soothe him, helped build snow forts, and kissed like the devil himself.

  “And you can work me in?” She watched him tie his shoes. Cole winced, probably because his shoes were soaking wet on the inside.

  “Absolutely,” he said, not complaining. He filled her in on the details, holding her hand while she walked him to the door—the front door this time.

  “Thanks for coming over,” she said.

  He dipped in for a final kiss. “I’ll see you Friday.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cole’s head was still spinning the next morning. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the incredible afternoon he’d spent with Saylor and her son, and how naturally he had fit into their lives in a single day.

  Her son was, in a word, adorable. His natural, childlike excitement over tiny things most others wouldn’t even blink at had been delightful. Cole couldn’t help feeling for the kid, torn as he was between his divorced parents. For the first time, it made Cole glad he hadn’t had kids with Brooke after all. He was glad he wasn’t putting his own child through what Saylor and Parker were dealing with.

  Saylor had been so easy to talk to. It was one thing he liked best about her, from the minute he’d met her. Sitting with her on her couch, holding hands with her, talking about their respective pasts, each of those things had come naturally, too. He hadn’t felt like he was prying, and she had been so open and responsive to his questions, to his touch, he couldn’t help but kiss her.

  That kiss. Or kisses, really. He hadn’t planned to do quite so much their first time, but that had just come spontaneously, too. It had been as though he was meant to do it, to hold her in his arms. It had felt as though she’d always belonged there.

  Her words before the kiss haunted him the entire way home, though. What had she meant by warning him off? He’d assumed she was referring to the way her marriage had ended, and how hurt she’d been. She didn’t want to get hurt with Cole.

  That was last thing he wanted as well, for either of them. He knew he wouldn’t hurt her, not intentionally. But something about her wouldn’t stop nagging him. It was the same troublesome thought he’d had the first time he’d seen her.

  He’d told himself he wasn’t ready for another relationship. Things with Brooke had gone smoothly at first, just as they seemed to be going with Saylor. Saylor’s question, though, her warning, made him feel that much more cautious.

  He needed to talk to someone.

  Cole dressed quickly, gulped down some eggs with salsa, and sent a text to Jack. The old man and his wife were probably up and at it for the day. They’d always been early risers.

  Cole’s parents had died in a car accident, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed them until he’d moved out of Brooke’s place—his place—to this apartment. Jack and Norah Prescott had been at their front door two floors below, embracing as though the older man were leaving for a safari through Africa and wouldn’t be home for weeks.

  It had been odd enough to see an elderly couple embrace that way. It was even odder when, after they’d broken apart to greet Cole and ask if he was new here, Norah had told Jack to have a great day at work.

  Not some remote vacation. Work. It turned out they were that affectionate no matter what the occasion, and Cole found he envied them. He’d also been instantly drawn by their friendly, welcoming manner.

  “Where do you work?” Cole had asked, setting down his bags.

  “Depends on the day,” Jack had said. “Today it’s laying tile at Tom Harris’s up the street. After that, who knows?”

  “Jack of all trades, my Jack is,” Norah added with a toothy, cheeky grin, blushing of all things as though newly married.

  He didn’t have a steady job? “Do you need work?” Cole had asked with concern.

  Cole had just let off a man who’d been consistently inconsistent in showing up. Attendance was vital in the construction business, as was dependability. However, Cole’s heart instantly took a liking to the older man. He had sensed he wouldn’t have the same problem with Jack, so he didn’t hesitate to offer.

  Jack’s face had lit up. “Why, you hiring?”

  “If you can hold a hammer and show up on time, then I’m hiring.”

  Jack had exchanged a smirk with Norah. “Come on back for dinner tonight, and we can discuss the details.”

  And that was that. Cole had ended up going back for dinner that night, and every Sunday night since. He’d indeed hired Jack, though the Prescotts had done far more for Cole than he’d ever done for them. They’d treated him like a son, and that meant more than anything else.

  Cole brushed his teeth and checked his phone.

  What are you asking for? Jack answered. Just come over.

  His lips pulled into a smile. He grabbed his coat and headed out the door. The morning was frigid, but not as cold as Christmas had been. His breath leaked out in smoky puffs before him, and he trundled down the flights of stairs from his third-floor apartment to theirs on the first.

  He knocked twice before entering. Warmth encircled him, along with the smell of bacon and freshly cooked blueberry muffins. Norah was in the small kitchen, her apple blossom apron pulling against her curves. She flashed him a motherly smile as though the sight of Cole in her apartment was the best thing that had happened to her yet.

  “Hey there.” She waved a soiled oven mitt at him. “Get over here and give me a hand.”

  Cole obeyed. “What do you need, Norah?”

  “This dad gum pan burned my hand, and I can’t get the rest of my muffins out of the oven.”

  “Here.” Cole took the mitt from her and directed her to the sink before opening the ov
en. A blast of the smell of freshly baked goods taunted him, and he retrieved the requested pan, setting it on the cooling rack beside her cookie jar in the shape of a fat chef with an aloof expression.

  “These smell amazing,” he said, placing the mitt on the counter.

  “You’d better have one then.” She spoke over her shoulder. Cold water was running from the tap over her palm. “Let them cool off first.”

  “How’s the hand?”

  She waved him off. “I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine.”

  Jack entered the living room, happy as always to see Cole there. “Cole! What are you doing down here so early?”

  “Actually, I wonder if I can talk to you guys about something.”

  Norah shut the water off as though she didn’t want to miss another word. She waved her hand dry, her gaze eagerly on Cole’s, before bustling out of the kitchen to sit before him on the couch.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” she asked. “Take your coat off, fool boy.”

  He smiled and did as commanded, laying his coat on the couch beside him. Jack sat on the armrest beside his wife. Cole was grateful for their attentiveness. He rubbed a hand behind his neck.

  “Brooke called me.”

  Norah gasped. “No! What is that woman thinking, after all she did to you?”

  Cole nodded. “She said she wants to get back together.”

  “Don’t you dare,” said Norah.

  “Let the man speak,” said Jack.

  Norah ignored her husband. “You know you can’t do it, Cole. She was the worst woman in the world for you.”

  He tapped the pads of his fingers together. “You’re right. And I know that. The thing is—you know what a mess that relationship was.”

  “Yes,” said Jack, elbowing his wife. She got the hint to close her mouth and instead waggled her head encouragingly.

  Cole exhaled. “I’ve met someone.”

  Norah squealed like a schoolgirl. “I knew you would.”

  “Quiet, I want to hear this,” said Jack.

  “You be quiet. Who is she? Where did you meet her?”

  “That’s a funny story, actually, and I guess I have you to thank for it, Jack. You know when I filled in for you as Santa Claus? Saylor jumped the fence so I could talk to her son and assure him Santa was coming to his house.”

  “Jack! You’re a matchmaker. Her name is Saylor? Saylor what? How old is she? She’s a mother?”

  While he adored Norah’s exuberant nosiness, Cole decided he’d better keep talking or he’d never finish what he needed to say. “I’ll get to that, I promise. We’ve had several dates now, and I even kissed her last night—”

  Norah sighed with dreams in her gaze.

  “—but I can’t help this nervous, badgering feeling in my chest about it all.”

  “What do you have to be nervous for?” Norah asked, rising to make for the kitchen again. “Don’t you like her?”

  “I like her. A lot,” Cole admitted, sinking into their lumpy couch. Norah shuffled back in, handing him a muffin. He took it, but it was still fairly warm, so he set it on his coat beside him, nodding his thanks.

  “But?” Jack prodded.

  “But what if I’m leaping from one mess to another?”

  “Ah. Here’s the moment of truth.” Norah nestled beside her husband and stared at Cole intently. “What is it about her that makes you think she’s a mess? Are you nervous about her son? How old is he?”

  “He’s six, and no, I’m not nervous about him. He’s a great kid. I just—” Cole paused, trying to work through his thoughts. This was one thing he loved about the Prescotts. They asked the right questions, questions another might be too timid or uncertain to ask.

  “Right before I kissed her, it was almost as if she was warning me away from her. She asked if I was sure about her, implying that she dives into relationships very passionately and has a hard time letting go.”

  “And you don’t want her to be too clingy?” Jack suggested.

  “It’s not even that. If we’re a good fit, then clingy is definitely good.”

  Jack and Norah shared an acquiescing eyebrow message. They understood better than anyone else would. Cole wanted what they had. The lingering, love-to-be-together kind of love.

  “I get the feeling there’s another reason she said it.” Cole realized the truth of his words as he spoke them. “It’s almost as though there was some kind of underlying meaning in it. Like she’s hiding something and doesn’t want to tell me about it.”

  “Of course she’s hiding something,” said Norah. “Everyone hides things while they’re dating. We can’t go out there with all our skeletons dangling around our necks. Goodness knows you’ve got plenty of bones dripping around yours.”

  Cole licked his lips. “There isn’t anything shocking in my past,” he said. “Not like murder or a criminal record or anything like that. But that’s just it, I have a past.”

  “So does she, it sounds like, if she’s divorced with a small boy. Sounds like a strong woman trying to keep her boundaries up,” Norah added.

  “Though she can’t be trying too hard at those boundaries if she let you kiss her,” Jack added with a knowing smirk.

  Norah punched him in the arm. “Of course she’s strong. Divorce can crush a person, and if she made it through without being crushed, what else would she be but strong?”

  Jack shrugged. “Point taken.”

  Norah inched to the edge of the couch. “Here’s what you do, Cole. Eat your muffin. Then talk to her. If you feel like it’s not time, then get to know her a bit more. Let her get to know you. If things progress like relationships do, the truth will come out sooner or later.”

  “That’s what I’m not sure about,” Cole said. “I don’t mean to sound heartless, but I want to...cushion myself from that. And her. If this is going to end in heartbreak, then is it worth pursuing at all?” He knew how it sounded, but he couldn’t deny the logic tell his heart to take care. His life had been hard since the whole Brooke fiasco. He wanted to make sure he was doing the right thing, for both his sake and Saylor’s.

  “What a terrible way to look at it,” said Norah, her mouth agape.

  Cole hurried to clarify. “I really don’t want to become someone she despises. I saw the way she and her ex-husband acted toward one another. Two people who at one time loved each other enough to marry and have a child. I don’t want that to happen to us.”

  The three of them sat with silent thoughts and furrowed brows.

  “No one can know the future,” said Jack. “But from the sound of things, if you’re wanting to end this relationship before feelings develop, it sounds like you’re already too late for that.”

  Jack’s words resonated like a song he’d forgotten and then heard all over again. Was he developing feelings for Saylor? After their amazing day yesterday—and especially the kisses they’d shared—he’d be a fool not to. He knew it was too early for love, but she’d been the first person he’d thought of every morning since Christmas Eve.

  It sank into his heart. He was. He was developing feelings for Saylor.

  “That only makes this worse,” he said, dipping his head into his hands.

  “You can’t avoid your dream vacation just because you’re scared of the flight there,” said Norah. “Sometimes you have to take the trip.”

  Cole peered up at her. Her head was tilted, her brows raised, her expression halfway between patient and baffled that he didn’t comprehend such a simple fact.

  “She opened herself up to you enough to give you her warning as it was,” said Jack. “That means she’s willing to try. Are you?”

  Was he? Cole raked his hands through his hair. He remembered her smiles in the snow, her astonishment at the lights, how amazing she’d looked on her front porch. He remembered the more tender moments, watching her tease her son and carry him lovingly to bed, the way her hand felt in Cole’s, how excited she’d gotten over seeing a silly camel.

  Cole chuckled
inwardly at the thought. What if he didn’t see her again? What if he walked away from this, all because he was afraid of whatever skeletons were in her past, or what their future together might bring? Could he walk away from her now?

  He couldn’t do it. He had to see her again.

  The Prescotts were right, as usual.

  Cole stood from the couch and went to Norah, hugging her from where she sat. She patted his cheek, giving him a gummy, adoring smile. “I knew you’d do the right thing,” she said sweetly. He brushed the flour from her cheek and shook Jack’s hand.

  Jack clapped his other hand over their grip. “You’ll never know unless you give something a try,” he said.

  “Thanks, you guys.”

  “When will we get to meet her?” Norah rose and removed her apron to chuck it on the couch where Cole had been sitting.

  Cole put his coat back on. “Jack will meet her tomorrow night, actually. She’s coming to the New Years’ Eve party.”

  “Will I now? I’m glad to hear it,” Jack said.

  “What good does that do me?” Norah asked, affronted.

  “You could come to the party with me,” Jack suggested.

  “And miss New Year’s Eve Bingo? Not a chance.”

  Cole chuckled again. It seemed they loved being together, but could enjoy being apart as well.

  He wanted that too.

  “If things work out between us, I promise I’ll bring her to dinner,” Cole said, opening the door. “Thanks again.”

  “See that you do, Cole Osteen. Or you’ll never hear the end of it from me.”

  “I have no doubt about that,” he said with a grin, heading out into the cold and back to his apartment. After their conversation and encouraging words, he was more excited to see Saylor than ever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Saylor wasn’t sure what to wear to this party. Construction implied casual work clothes, but party meant dressier. She settled for something in the middle, her nicest pair of black pants and a stylish shirt that, for once, wasn’t tainted with memories.