A Christmas to Believe In (26 page)

by Claire Ashgrove

Clint bit back a curse as he scowled at the door. The one

part of his day that had gone right, and someone intended to

spoil it for him. If it were Alex, he'd kill his little brother. Right

now, he'd gladly go to jail for the offense too.

"What?" he snapped.

His mother's voice replied, "Are you busy, sweetheart?"

In the pale grey afternoon light, Clint caught the doorknob

turn. He automatically snatched at the comforter and tossed

it over his bare ass. Panicked more for Jesse's sake than his

own, he hollered, "Don't open it!"

Good God, this was getting ridiculous. It was like his

mother had some second sight to know exactly when she'd

catch him with Jesse. Hell, she couldn't have missed Jesse's

car in the drive. What did she think when she came up the

stairs to find silence behind his door? They were playing

checkers?

Beneath him, Jesse shifted in attempts to skirt out of his

grasp. He clutched her closer, warned her off with a shake of

his head. "You're not going anywhere," he whispered against

her breast. "Soon as she leaves, I'm locking the door and

indulging again."

She answered with a wry smile.

"I thought I'd tell you Keeley's here," his mother called

through the door. "We're in the living room, when you're

ready to come down."

218

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

Glancing heavenward, he bemoaned his fate with a low

groan. So much for the idea of keeping Jesse in bed a little

longer. As his mother's footsteps retreated down the hall,

Jesse giggled. He cocked an eyebrow, not at all sharing her

amusement.

"You should see your expression."

Defying his mood, his mouth quirked. "She knows you're in

here."

Jesse lifted her hands to slide her fingers through his hair.

"I'll live with that."

He nuzzled her cheek, dusted his mouth over hers. Would

she care if she knew they'd had a witness last night? Maybe.

But some things died hard, and making Jesse blush had

always been a favorite pastime of his. Though a more gallant

man would keep the information to himself, he couldn't resist.

"She walked in on us last night. I got a slight reprimand this

morning."

Satisfaction poured through him as Jesse's cheeks flushed

with pretty pink. "I suppose I'll live with that too."

Stretching, she slid a slender leg alongside his, and her

breasts pushed toward his face. Unable to resist, Clint

gathered them in his hands, lifted, and pressed his mouth

into the deep valley he'd created. But sense slid through his

wandering thoughts, reminding him he couldn't get carried

away. Reluctantly, he let go.

"I should head on back to the house. If I remember right, I

have a dinner to plan." Her eyes twinkled so bright and

beautiful they mirrored tiny stars.

219

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

"I have wine to buy." Though everything inside him

screamed in protest, he eased himself out of her heavenly

warmth and sat on the edge of the bed. "Good. That'll give

me an excuse to escape Keeley. You haven't met her, have

you?"

Slipping into her bra, Jesse shook her head. "Not sure I

want to."

He gave her bottom a playful slap as she slid from the bed

to pull on her jeans. "Looks like you're about to." Watching

her wriggle into the fitted denim sent a whole new burst of

energy thrumming through his veins. He scolded his body's

impatience, but let his gaze linger on her trim buttocks. "You

have an amazing ass."

Giving him a glimpse of the saucy Jesse he'd grown up

with, she smirked over her shoulder. "So do you."

Clint blinked. A compliment had been the last thing he'd

expected to hear. The fact she'd said it without skipping a

beat halted his tongue. At a loss, he stared.

"Get dressed." Jesse tossed his shirt in his lap. "Unless you

plan to meet your new sister in the nude."

No. But the realization he was about to meet his new sister

with Jesse at his side, made his chest tighten. Keeley would

know, without question, where Jesse fit into this family.

Where Jesse fit into his life. At the same time, Jesse would

share this uncomfortable meeting with him. Not his brothers,

not just his mother. His Jesse. The only person capable of

reading the hidden part of his soul. He could think of no more

fitting introduction.

220

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

With a short nod, he yanked on his clothes, ran his fingers

through his hair. As Jesse started for the door, Clint caught

her by the wrist and dragged her back to him. He kissed her

thoroughly, then taking a hold of her shoulders, turned her

toward the mirror. "Your hair, sweetheart."

Her eyes widened as she looked at the tangled strands

tumbling down her shoulders. "Good grief."

He reached into his bag and handed her his hairbrush. As

she worked at the mess, a sense of comfort crept in to wrap

its fingers around his heart. He could get used to this. To

Jesse sharing his space. His things. His mirror in the

mornings.

Aw hell.
He was falling for her. Fast.

She flashed a bright smile. Her eyes held his as she ran

the brush through her long raven lengths, then set it down.

Wordlessly, Clint fit his hand into the small of her back and

escorted her out the door.

Keeley waited on the couch. The very same couch Clint

hadn't been able to look at all afternoon because of the

visions it created in his head. It had hurt too much, knowing

he'd intended to call things off. Now, he could see the picture

of Jesse and him in his mind's eye and embrace it. She hadn't

let him. He still wasn't convinced that was the smartest

decision, but for now, he accepted he had a little while longer

to enjoy her.

Before Clint could utter a word of greeting, his mother cut

her sharp gaze his way. Behind her welcoming smile lurked

warning. The silent message he should behave himself.

Welcome Keeley, as she'd requested.

221

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

He extended his hand.

Keeley rose from the couch, all five foot sevenish of her.

Stylishly dressed in a pair of casual black pants and a soft

yellow cardigan set, she painted a picture of corporate

success. Slender, pretty—on the exterior, Clint couldn't find a

reason not to like her. Her eyes even glinted with warmth,

not just cordial politeness. "You must be Clint."

"I am. Nice to meet you, Keeley." He gestured at Jesse.

"This is Jesse Saurs."

She gave Jesse the same familial smile, the same firm

handshake. "Amelia's been telling me about the both of you. I

understand you grew up together?"

"We did," Jesse confirmed. "It's nice to meet you, but I'm

afraid I can't stay. I have get my son ready to go to a

friend's."

Clint's eyes widened. She couldn't be leaving. Not yet, at

least. She was supposed to make this meeting tolerable, not

strand him. But to his dismay, Jesse bent over his mother's

chair to kiss her cheek, then grabbed her coat off the peg.

She returned to him, rose to tiptoe, and planted her lips on

his. "I'll see you in a little while."

Stunned, he watched his life raft glide out the door.

Though Clint wanted to dislike Keeley, an hour later he

found himself laughing at her stories about her childhood. Her

mother had remained unmarried until her recent death, and

as the only child to a woman who spent most of her time

working, Keeley had run wild as a kid. Heck, much as he

hated to admit it, back then, they'd have made good friends.

And while he'd never, in a hundred years, admit it to Jesse,

222

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

he suspected she might give Jesse's tomboy years a run for

their money.

Jesse still held the market on the toe-in-ribs cheat at arm

wrestling, however. No one but her could come up with

something that outrageous... and no one but he and his

brothers would be stupid enough to fall for it time and again.

"So, Clint, you raise Thoroughbreds?"

At the uncomfortable mention of his faltering life, his

enjoyment dwindled. He'd managed to temporarily forget

about Royal Promise, Angel's foal, and Susan Silby's offers.

He didn't need to confront those subjects before he left for

Jesse's. He refused to allow anything to spoil their

uninterrupted night together.

"He brought one with him," his mother interjected before

he could find a response.

"Oh?" Keeley's bright green eyes lit with excitement. "Can

I see her? Is she here?"

Clint inclined his head toward the front door. "She's at

Jesse's."

Keeley's features fell with unmistakable disappointment.

"Well, some other time then, perhaps."

A wash of guilt rained down on Clint. She was trying so

hard. It wasn't her fault he'd had a shit day when it came to

horses. He'd always done all he could to encourage interest in

horses. Yet here he sat, unwilling to extend the invitation.

"I'll take you by the next time you stop in."
If I'm still in

town.
Though somehow, he had a feeling Keeley would be

dropping in again soon. She and his mother had bonded

rather instantly.

223

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

His mother grabbed for her crutches and pushed out of her

chair. "I think we could use more coffee and I need to put

some hamburger out to thaw. I don't know if Alex will be by

or not, Keeley. But you're welcome to stay for dinner and see

if he shows up."

"Thank you, Amelia. I probably should get back soon."

Clint grinned at his half sister. "You'll learn, Keeley, when

Mom invites, she expects you to accept."

Eyes wide with hesitancy, she looked between Clint and his

mother. "Well... There's not really anything waiting for me at

the hotel. If you don't mind the company...."

"She doesn't mind," Clint assured.

"Then it's settled," Amelia declared as she hobbled into the

kitchen. "We'll have green bean casserole. Clint, are you

stay—"

"I have plans."

"Okay, dear."

As the clatter of dishes came to life in the kitchen, silence

descended on the living room. Keeley rotated her coffee mug

in her hands and stared down into the brew. A slight frown

tugged at her manicured eyebrows. After several long

moments, she lifted her eyes to Clint. "Can I ask you

something?"

He nodded.

"My father... Would he have let me in the door?"

With the question, her facade fell. Clint saw through to the

same spirit that lived in him. Like he did, she questioned her

worth in their father's eyes. She craved his acceptance.

Needed it in some buried place inside. He leaned forward and

224

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

rested his elbows on his knees. "He'd have welcomed you

with open arms. He didn't know about you. None of us did. If

Dad had, he'd have moved heaven and earth to make sure

you were part of his life."

Though she nodded with a smile, before she looked away,

he caught the glistening of tears in her eyes. At that moment,

he knew he couldn't pretend she was just some stranger

passing through their lives. Whatever Alex thought, whatever

suspicions Heath harbored, whatever reservations Jesse held,

Clint would treat Keeley as the sister she was. He'd do exactly

what his father had done... welcome her with open arms.

He reached across the way and grabbed her elbow. With a

light tug, he hauled her into his arms. "Welcome home,

Keeley."

Her shoulders shook for an instant, but on a deep breath,

she returned the hug. She gave his back a pat, eased out of

his embrace. "Thanks."

"Of course. I've got to get going though. I've got wine to

pick up before dinner. Make sure Mom has your phone

number. If I don't get to see you before I head back to

Kentucky, and you still want to see a horse, I've got a decent

guest room."

He stood up and dusted his hands on his jeans.

She gave him a thoughtful look. "Dinner with Jesse?"

"Yeah."

A slow smile spread across her face. "Casa Lapostolle,

Cuvee Alexandre Chardonnay."

"Huh?"

225

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

"Get that. Cuvee Alexandre Chardonnay. She'll love it.

You'll be glad you did."

How Keeley knew whether Jesse would like the wine or

not, he couldn't begin to guess. But the conviction in her

voice left no room for argument, and he committed the name

to memory. Certainly couldn't hurt to try.

He headed for the stairs, only to stop with his foot on the

bottom tread. Turning around, he poked his head back into