Read A Christmas to Believe In Online
Authors: Claire Ashgrove
her tongue to squelch the flirtatious reply. Now wasn't the
time. Maybe once, when she wouldn't have meant them.
Definitely not now, when she'd spent the last twenty-four
hours fantasizing about Clint's hands, his mouth, his
incredible body.
Clint stood up, his fingers beckoning for hers. She slid her
hand into his large palm and allowed him to help her to stand.
"Where are we going?"
"Let's go see the lights. It's been years since I've stood
under the mayor's Christmas tree."
"Me too." Grinning, she followed as he led them back into
the chilly night air. "Do you remember when Alex climbed the
tree?"
A hearty laugh burst free, and Clint shook his head. "Man,
I thought Dad would beat him senseless that night. It
wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't gotten scared and
refused to come down. Then when the firemen showed up—I
swear I think Mom covered her face with her scarf."
Jesse giggled with his chuckles. "How old was he? Seven?"
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"Five. Just old enough to reach the branches." He pointed
up at the one-hundred foot tree that dominated Crown
Center. "Notice they cut the branches off ten feet up now."
She took a long drink from her cup. Glancing around, Jesse
took in all the things she'd forgotten. On the metallic train,
she could hear the four of them barking orders—
stoke the
engines, pull the whistle, look out for the cow!
They'd laughed and played under the magic of these lights.
Oblivious to the real meaning of the Holiday, focused only on
the colorful displays, the gifts Santa would bring. Caught by
the memories, she set her cup down on the giant drum and
tapped Clint on the shoulder.
When he looked, she wrinkled her nose and cried, "You're
it!"
It took him a minute to bobble his cup and free his hands.
Once rid of the mug of cocoa, he lunged for her. On a playful
squeal, she took off around the life-size wooden soldiers,
using them as shields when his arm snaked out to grab her.
Clint rushed after Jesse, laughing as she darted in and out
of the brightly painted displays. Her laughter rang through
the air, more melodic than the distant music from the ice
terrace. Her long hair streamed out behind her, tangling with
the fringed tail of her scarf. She clamped a hand on her head
to hold her hat in place and darted left.
God, it felt good to let go like this. To dismiss all the adult
responsibilities and play with his full heart. He'd forgotten
how it felt to be young. How days could pass carefree.
Mid-stride he scooped up a handful of snow, rolled it into a
ball, and let it go. It nailed her square between her shoulders.
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She squeaked, clamored beneath the slide, and rushed for
the backside of the Christmas tree. Anticipating her attack, he
went around the other way, and found her back to him, a
snowball cocked and ready.
The crunch of his boots spun her around. She fired. He
ducked. The snowball landed harmlessly beyond his shoulder.
Panting, she collapsed against the tall drum's walls, and
struggled to catch her breath between laughs.
He leaned back against the wall, chuckling, and looked up
at the glass storefronts across the street. Bright white bulbs
illuminated masterfully decorated trees within. In a corner
display, a mechanical elf pounded a hammer on a toy bench
while Santa looked on in the background. The next window
down framed a fairy-like angel. Wheaten hair flowed in gentle
curls from beneath her golden halo. Silver-tipped wings
elongated behind a white gown. She extended an elegant
hand to a cluster of small children asleep in an old-fashioned
bed. Above them, stockings dangled, laden with fruits, candy
canes, and tiny wrapped packages.
Kansas City was different this year. Prettier. Homier.
Maybe it was just the snow, so uncustomary before January.
Whatever it was, it stirred some deep, unnamable feeling
deep inside him.
"What are you thinking?" Jesse asked quietly.
He turned his head to reply, and his lungs squashed
together. Standing beneath the multicolored lights, she was
every bit as beautiful as the angel behind the window. As it
tumbled around her shoulders, wild and free, her dark hair
caught the reflection, haloing her with soft light. Her quirky
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hat came down to the middle of her ears, and between
strands of ebony, he caught the glint of one golden earring.
She wore a smile that cut in deep and fisted around his heart.
The dot of whipped cream on the tip of her dainty nose
topped everything with a touch of youthful charm.
Straightening, he reached out to brush the spot away with
his knuckle. So cute. So damn pretty.
The sparkle of her earring taunted. His gaze pulled to the
delicate trinket, along with his fingers. He pushed a wayward
strand of her hair away, tucked it behind her ear. The
movement brought him closer. So close, her warmth seeped
into his chest.
Her breath puffed between them as he studied her face.
Time had been kind to her. More than kind. Though the tiny
crow's feet at the corners of her eyes said she was no longer
the girl he'd once known, youth radiated out through her
trembling smile.
His gaze locked with hers. Bright, blue, and glistening, her
eyes sparkled like the glittered ornaments overhead. As he
stood captivated, running his thumb over the silken lock of
her hair, they shifted into a darker hue.
He was going to kiss her, and she knew it. The catch of her
breath told him she hungered for the contact as much as he
did. He gave her two heartbeats to come to her senses and
step away. When she didn't, he dipped his head.
Softly, hesitantly, he touched his lips to hers. Their breaths
mingled. The faint flavor of peppermint from her earlier candy
cane lingered on her mouth, drawing him in deeper. He slid
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his hand to the back of her head, closed his eyes, and
surrendered.
Jesse melted into his arms. Her soft lips parted beneath
his. He nudged them further apart with the tip of his tongue
as sensation flooded into him. Her perfume assaulted his
senses, drowning him in flowers and a scent far richer.
Something dark, sinfully sexy, and every bit as intoxicating.
At the brush of her tongue, heat leapt into his veins. His
stomach ground down tight, and against his thigh, he felt his
cock stir. He wound his free arm around her waist, pressing
her closer, lost to the hollow ache that opened deep in his
soul.
Her fingers slid up his chest, twined around his shoulders,
and delved into the hair at the base of his neck. She met the
demands of his mouth with equal hunger, invited him to take
all she offered along with all he desired. Unable to resist, Clint
tightened the arm around her waist and brought her body
flush with his. Soft curves blanketed him. The scrape of her
nails against his scalp sent pleasure thrumming down his
spine.
Lord above, he was kissing Jesse. The girl he'd grown up
with. Jesse, who knew every embarrassing secret and had
laughed at every one.
Nothing had ever felt more right.
"Mom?"
Ethan's hesitant call shattered through Clint's bliss. Jesse
jerked away, her features ashen, and her eyes as wide as
saucers. She smoothed her hair with one hand, tugged her
coat down with the other.
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"I'm here." The brief glance she spared Clint held
enormous regret.
Clint dropped his hands to his sides with an inward groan.
Turning around, he caught the malevolent glare Ethan threw
his way before the boy stalked away.
"Ethan!" Jesse rushed after him.
With nothing left to do but follow, Clint sucked in a shaky
breath and trudged after her. A fist clamped at his side, he
cursed his stupidity. He should have waited. Bided his time
until they were somewhere where Ethan couldn't chance upon
them. Of all the people to witness this kiss, he could think of
no worse candidate. Even Alex and Heath would have been
better alternatives. They'd give him hell, her too, but none of
it would hold real meaning.
Unlike a thirteen-year-old boy who already didn't like him.
Damn it all, he couldn't get any more foolish.
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Jesse skidded across the ice-covered concrete, Clint on her
heels. Ahead, Ethan marched toward his friends, his
shoulders rigid, his hands clenched at his sides. Even from
this distance, she could read the grim pull of his mouth. The
brief moment where his eyes had settled on her, laden with
silent accusation, scored into her memory.
She should have stopped Clint. He'd given her the
opportunity, and like a wanton, she'd ignored it, desperate for
the promise that burned in his amber gaze. Desperate enough
to forget Ethan.
She swore beneath her breath and hurried her pace.
"Ethan," she called with firm authority.
He jerked to a stop. Spun around like a whip. "What?"
"Just stop a minute. Did you need me?"
A mask of indifference settled into his features, and he
shrugged his shoulders. "I forgot what I was going to ask."
The lie glinted behind the shift of his eyes. He looked over his
shoulder, tossed his head in the direction of his friends. "I'm
ready to go."
Jesse closed her eyes and let her shoulders slump. All that
lofty sensation Clint had stirred deflated at the flat,
unemotional tone to Ethan's voice. One kiss, and he'd
clammed up like an oyster. Two years of trying to crack
through that hard shell, and she'd lost every bit of progress
she'd made by indulging in the one thing she absolutely
shouldn't.
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Clint slipped into her peripheral vision, his hands shoved
into his coat pockets, his stance casual. She didn't dare
acknowledge him, not with Ethan so obviously wounded.
"Ethan, what about your friends? And Stephanie? Aren't you
enjoying yourself?"
Stubbornly, he lifted his chin. His blue eyes glinted like
glass, the raw emotion trapped behind his defiant stare.
"We're ready to leave." He elbowed Sam. "Right, Sam? Ready
to go now?"
Sam did a double take. He glanced between the giggling
girls and Ethan, confusion tugging at his freckled features.
But when he followed Ethan's cold stare to Jesse,
understanding erased the tight lines. Sam bobbed his head.
"Sure. Whatever you say, Ethan."
Jesse resisted the urge to drop her head into her hands
and give in to an anguished cry. Damn it all, how foolish could
she be? She'd known now wasn't the time to indulge in a
personal life. Yet, she'd rushed headlong into Clint's arms,
oblivious to the resolutions she'd made.
She braved confrontation and looked to Clint. He watched
silently, his expression unreadable. No frown marred his
handsome features; no anger glinted in his rich gaze. She
looked away as regret tumbled her stomach and stared up at
the stars. So unfair. Just as she'd discovered something she'd
yearned for, circumstance forbade the pleasure. "We have to
go," she murmured.
"I'll be in the car." Low and even, his reply felt like he'd
slammed a door in her face.
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She watched him walk away, a part of her crumbling. She
yearned to chase after, to tug on his elbow and tell him how
sorry she was. To explain Ethan's past, the graphic details
sealed in his files and protected by her oath of confidentiality.
To beg him to understand how love for a child could
overshadow all personal needs, and that she'd lay down her
life for Ethan, no matter the sacrifice. Clint would understand.
Yet, she couldn't. Ethan trusted those secrets to her. He'd
been betrayed enough in his short life, and she would not
betray his confidence. Not when the best solution for
everyone came with letting Clint go. In a week or two, tonight
wouldn't matter. They'd both return to their lives, hundreds of
miles apart, and never look back. When they ran into each
other again...
She sighed.
When they ran into each other again, tonight would lie
between them, as obvious and irritating as a festering
splinter.
The wind picked up, whipping her hair into her face and
sliding beneath her clothes. She hugged her arms around her
and huddled into her coat. "Let's go. Clint's in the car."