A Thunder Canyon Christmas (13 page)

She smiled a little. Wasn't that just like him, to think about those sorts of guy details that probably wouldn't have occurred to her? “Thanks. Good thinking,” she answered, then headed down the hall to her bedroom.

Her room was icy and she took a moment to flip on the gas fireplace for an instant warm-up. After she pulled her desk chair over to her closet, she climbed up to dig in the back recesses of her top shelf for the handcrafted necklace and earring set she had purchased for her mother at a summer art fair and then promptly forgotten about until the other day.

After she returned the chair to her desk, her gaze landed on a framed picture that had sat there so long it had become a usually overlooked part of the landscape.

She picked it up, the glass frame cold and heavy in her hands. The picture had been taken at Clifton's Pride a few weeks before her father's death. If she remembered correctly, one of her aunts had taken it near the horse paddock and it featured all of them—John, Helen, Grant and her, looking skinny and small with blond braids and a little freckled nose.

She looked absolutely nothing like the rest of her family. Everything was different—the shape of her eyes, the tilt of her nose. How had they all missed the signs for all these years?

She was a changeling, an interloper.

Her thumb traced John Clifton's strong, smiling features, frozen forever in her memory just like this. Raw emotions bubbled up in her throat, clogging her breath. She missed him so dearly.

What would he have to say about this whole mess? She couldn't even begin to guess. Then she thought of Jack Castro and his gruff eagerness to be part of her life.

It was too much. The stress of the evening, her conflicted feelings, everything. She sagged onto her desk chair and clutched the photograph to her chest, fighting tears and memories and this gaping sense of loss.

Some time later, she heard Matt walking down the hall and hurriedly swiped at her stupid tears.

“Everything looks like it's running just fine,” he said. “I nudged the thermostat up a little bit while we're here. Remind me to turn it back down when we go.”

His voice trailed off as he entered the room and Elise winced. Why did he always have to see her at her worst? She felt like she had been an emotional mess since the moment she bumped into him at The Hitching Post.

He crossed to her quickly, his eyes dark with concern. “What's the matter? What happened?”

She gave a resigned sigh and held out the picture. “I thought I was doing so much better about everything tonight at dinner. Coming to terms with…all of it. I had a good time with Jack and Betty. They're very nice people, people I think I could grow to care about. Then I saw this picture of my family…the family I've always
known as mine…and I just feel like I've lost something somehow.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Come here.”

He pulled her into his arms and she hitched in a breath, feeling foolish and weepy and deeply grateful.

“This is so stupid.” She sniffled. “I'm such a mess.”

“Anyone else would be in the same situation. You've had the rug yanked out from under you again, just like it was when your father was killed.”

She stared at him, stunned that he could so clearly understand something she hadn't even put together in her own head. She felt as if she were reliving those terrible days of loss and uncertainty all over again. “That's it exactly! I'm not sure how to go on now that everything has suddenly changed.”

“You're doing fine, Elise. Give yourself some credit.”

His faith in her warmed a cold place deep inside. “Thanks, Matt. You must be so sick of me and my maunderings.

Yes. Exactly! She felt as if she were reliving those terrible days of loss and uncertainty all over again as she struggled to adapt to her changing situation.

“I don't know what that word means,” he admitted with a soft smile. “But I'm not sick of you. I could never be sick of you, Elise.”

His arms tightened around her and with a sense of inevitability, she lifted her mouth to his. When his lips slanted over hers lightly, the whole twisting, crazy emotional snarl inside her seemed to settle.

The kiss was slow and tender, and she closed her eyes and savored it.

“Thank you,” she murmured after a long moment. “I don't know what I would have done without you here tonight, both earlier and just now.”

“You would have made it through,” he replied. “You're much tougher than you seem to think, El.”

“When you say that, you make me want to believe it.”

He kissed her, his arms a warm comfort around her. “I remember after your dad died, watching how you coped with everything you'd been hit with. I thought then what a strong person you were. I could tell you were hurting, but you survived it. I always admired that about you.”

She was quiet for a long moment, her feelings for him a thick, solid weight in her chest, and then she stood on tiptoe again and kissed him, telling him with her mouth and her hands the feelings she was afraid to voice.

He pulled her against him and deepened the kiss and they stood wrapped together for long moments while the flame from her gas fireplace flickered and danced and tiny snow pellets hissed against the windows.

She wanted to be with him. The yearning blossomed inside her, fierce and powerful. She felt as if everything the last few weeks—okay, for years, if she were honest—had been leading them to this moment.

A low, sultry heat simmered between them and she could taste the change in his kiss, from tenderness to something more, something rich and sensual and delicious.

She pressed against him, tangling her fingers in his hair, stealing sensuous delight through the slide of her tongue along his.

He made no move to capitalize on the convenient queen-size bed behind them so Elise decided she would just have to take matters into her own hands. She eased down and pulled him along with her.

He made a low, sexy sound in his throat and stretched along beside her, his body hard and powerful. She could feel the heat of him scorching her, his tightly leashed strength, and for one crazy moment she couldn't believe this was really happening, that she was really here with Matt Cates.

Somewhere in her room amid the collected detritus of her childhood—maybe in a box of keepsakes under her bed?—was the diary she'd kept in elementary and junior high school, where she had poured out all her silly angst about him.

Why wouldn't he notice her?

He sat with that silly, brainless Jamie Fletcher at lunchtime.

He smiled and joked with her while they were standing in line for the drinking fountain.

She wondered how he would react if he knew about her girlhood crush. Would he be mortified or amused?

She didn't care. Not right now, with his arms around her. This was so much more wonderful than anything she could have imagined back then.

His mouth trailed down her throat, his breath warm on her skin. Everything inside her seemed to sigh. If
she had even an inkling back then how magical kissing Matt could be, she would have gladly tripped through the hallway every single day at school, if that was the only way to make him notice her.

His mouth slid just below the loose cowl of her sweater, and she shivered, aching for his touch.

“We'd probably better stop,” he murmured.

“Why?”

His gaze met hers, clear reluctance there. “We've still got a long drive back to Thunder Canyon tonight.”

“It's snowing,” she pointed out in what she thought was a particularly reasonable argument. “Let's just stay here for the night. We can head back in the morning, can't we?”

He sat up and drew in a ragged breath, his eyes dark and hot. “I really don't think that's a great idea, Elise. In case you haven't noticed, I can't seem to keep my hands off you.”

She could see his arousal in that slumberous look he wore, hear it in his ragged breathing. He wanted her, just as much as she wanted him, and the realization left her feeling sexy and feminine and powerful.

She hadn't experienced that particular heady mix of emotions very often in her life and she decided to revel in it.

“I don't want you to. Keep your hands off me, I mean. In case
you
haven't noticed, I happen to like your hands on me.”

He closed his eyes on a rough-sounding sigh. “Elise—”

“Spend the night here with me, Matt. I want you to.”

H
er low words sizzled through him, rich and potent, with a hell of a kick. Just like Christmas eggnog. He stared at her, slender and delicate and lovely, and he wanted her with a fierce hunger.

It would be so very easy to take what she was offering, to kiss her and touch her until they were both crazy with need.

But he thought of her tangled emotional state, the stresses weighing on her for the last few weeks and knew he couldn't take advantage of her like that, as much as he ached to taste the passion he sensed brimming just under the surface.

His entire strategy since that night at The Hitching Post had been one of patience. He intended to give her plenty of time to come to terms with everything that had
happened the last few weeks with her family—and with the possibility of a deepening relationship between the two of them.

She was throwing that plan all to hell.

He wanted to devour her right now, just cover her body with his, slide beneath that silky-soft comforter on her bed and spend the night wrapped together while the snow clicked against the window and the world outside this room ceased to matter.

He wanted that so intensely he could barely hang on to a coherent thought, but he did his best, knowing this was too important for him to screw it up.

“I'm not sure this is the right time,” he began valiantly.

She smiled that soft, reckless smile again and he wondered a little wildly what had happened to his sweet Elise and how this sexy seductress had taken her place.

Not that he was complaining or anything.

“This is the perfect time,” she murmured, leaning into him. “I want to be with you. I want it more than I can tell you.”

He closed his eyes, praying he could do the right thing here. Finally, he rose and stood beside the bed. When he spoke, his voice was low and tinged with sadness.

“I wish you were saying that because you meant it and not just because you want to forget everything for a little while.”

She stared at him for a long moment and then she gave a low, throaty laugh. “Is that what you think this is?”

She rose until only a few inches separated them. He could feel the heat of her, smell the delicious raspberries-and-cream scent. She splayed her fingers against his chest and he could swear she would scorch through the material of his shirt.

“You're wrong, Matt. So wrong. I've wondered how it would be with you since I was old enough to even understand about the difference between men and women. You've never noticed me as anything but sweet little Elise.” She sighed. “I guess it's confession time. My thoughts about you have always been anything but sweet.”

She smiled again then leaned in to kiss him, her mouth soft and delicious, and he was lost.

This probably wasn't the smartest thing he had ever done but right now he didn't care. The only thing that mattered was Elise and the heartstopping promise of her kiss.

His body was yelling at him to rush, to rip off clothing and surge inside her fast and hard but he drew in a shaky breath and sought control. Not that way, not with Elise—at least not this time.

He felt as if he'd been handed a precious gift all wrapped up in pretty paper, and he wanted to savor every moment of discovering its secrets.

Without lifting his mouth from hers, he lowered them both to the bed again. Her breasts brushed against his chest and her thighs shifted on either side of one of his legs. He propped most of his weight on one elbow, worried a little about crushing her, but she wrapped her arms
around him, nestling against him as if she wanted to be nowhere else in the world than right here with him.

“You tell me if you decide you've changed your mind,” he ordered against his mouth. “I can't guarantee I'll like it, but I'll stop.”

“I can take care of myself, you know,” she said with that same enticing smile. “You can stop watching out for me now.”

“Never,” he said hoarsely.

He deepened the kiss, licking and tasting and exploring her mouth until he couldn't think straight. She tasted so good, sweetly delicious, and he couldn't seem to slake his hunger.

He wanted—needed—more. He slid his fingers beneath her sweater to the small of her back, and his insides trembled at the sensuous contrast of her soft skin against hard, calloused fingers that had driven a few too many nails.

“My hands are too rough,” he murmured. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Never,” she repeated his words earlier and eased into his touch.

They kissed for a long time, until she sat up a little and reached to pull the edges of her sweater over her head, leaving her in only a lacy red bra that barely cupped her lush little breasts and instantly ratcheted his temperature up about a thousand degrees.

He gulped. “Um. Wow.”

She laughed. “I like sexy lingerie. It's a quirk, I know. I guess you'll just have to decide if you can accept it.”

“It's going to be tough,” he growled, “but I can probably manage.”

He unbuttoned his own shirt and pulled it off, aware of her eyes watching every moment and the hot tendrils of hunger coiling through him. He knew he'd been attracted to her before, but he never expected this sort of wild, ferocious heat.

She spread a hand over his chest and made a sexy little sound in her throat and then she toppled him backward on the bed and kissed him, her honey-blond hair a silky, sensuous veil around them.

How the hell had he overlooked her all these years? What was he thinking, always considering her just a sweet kid he needed to watch out for? A smart guy would have seen the sexy woman inside all that sweetness and would have jumped at any chance to be with her like this much sooner. He felt like he'd wasted far too much time as it was and didn't want to squander another moment.

She was everything he had ever wanted, all those nebulous things he hadn't admitted, even to himself. Even as they kissed and touched, he was aware of that edge of uncertainty around them. Her life was in chaos right now—as she'd said, she wasn't in a good place for a relationship. Though he knew it would be difficult, especially after tonight, he would just have to dig deep for patience.

He could wait. For now he had this, he had her, and he wasn't about to waste time worrying about all those uncertainties.

He slid his hands to the sides of her breasts above
the lace of her bra and she hitched in a breath, her stomach muscles contracting. “Oh, yes. Perfect,” she murmured.

“Not yet,” he said with a lopsided grin. “But heading there.”

 

He was wrong. This was sheer heaven.

Elise felt powerful, sensual. He carefully flipped her back onto the pillow and danced his thumbs over her curves, then pushed one of her bra cups away before lowering his mouth.

She gasped aloud and gripped his head tightly, arching against him and holding him in place while he tasted and explored one and then the other.

With one hand, she slid her fingers through his hair, with the other she explored all that tantalizing skin stretched across his strong back.

The years of construction work had hardened him. He wasn't bulky but every inch was tightly leashed muscle and she wanted to taste all of it. She pressed a kiss to the muscles that corded between his neck and his shoulder and knew the exultant power of feeling his tremble of reaction.

Despite the fact that he was here, in her arms, in her bed, this still didn't seem real. She was afraid she would wake up and he would be gone.

She was almost more afraid that she would wake up and he would be right here, all those hard muscles and tender concern shoving their way into her defenseless heart.

“I care about you, Elise,” Matt murmured after they
had removed the rest of their clothing, after their bodies were entwined and all that hard strength surrounded her. “I want you to know, this is important to me.
You're
important to me.”

His words seemed to sneak through whatever was left of her paltry defenses to nestle in next to her heart. As much as they scared her, in a weird sort of way they managed to calm her more. She
was
in love with him. This wasn't infatuation or friendship with benefits but something she had never known before.

Maybe that's why she had been fighting her feelings so hard. She wasn't sure she was strong enough to survive the sort of heartache Matt could leave behind.

She thought of Grant and Stephanie, how deeply they loved each other. They only had to walk into a room together and you could feel it snap in the air like ions whirling just before an electrical storm.

Marlon and Haley shared the same sort of love and everyone could see it.

She supposed she had always expected that when she finally fell in love it would be a soft and easy sort of thing, like settling in near the fireplace with a good book—even as some part of her had yearned for exactly this sort of wild, consuming passion.

“You're important to me, too,” she confessed, her voice low. She wasn't going to worry about heartbreak. Not now. For now, she only wanted to focus on this moment, this man, the incredible heat and wonder of being in his arms.

He gripped her hands in his and kissed her as he
entered her with one powerful surge. Oh, yes. Now it was perfect. Her body shifted and settled to accommodate him and she wanted to lie here beneath him for the next week or two, just savoring this rare and beautiful connection between them.

“Elise,” he murmured. “My sweet Elise.”

She loved the sound of her name spoken in that rough-edged voice, the heat in his eyes as he kissed her.

She clutched his back as he surged inside her, every muscle shivering with delight. She felt as if she were like that eagle in the needlepoint they had bought for Haley, as if she were soaring and circling on currents of air with widespread wings, climbing higher and higher toward the sun. And then he kissed her, his mouth fierce and demanding, and reached a hand between their bodies, to the heat and ache at her core, and she climaxed in one mad, crazy instant that left her gasping and arching against him needing more and more.

When she glided back to earth, she found him watching her out of those hot, hungry, dark eyes.

“That was just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen,” he said on a growl, then he kissed her fiercely and she held him while he found his own release.

After he had taken care of the condom—even in this, he protected her—Matt slid back into bed and pulled her close, nestling her against all his heat and strength. “You matter to me,” he said again.

The snow continued to beat against the window and the sky looked dark and menacing, but here they were safe together. With her cheek resting on his chest, she
listened to his strong, steady heartbeat in her ear and thought about love and fear, fantasy and reality and the strange twistings of fate, until she fell asleep.

 

For the first time in his life, Matt found himself reluctant to return to Thunder Canyon.

Usually he loved driving through town, that first glimpse of the mountains, the sense of homecoming, of belonging in a beautiful place.

Not today. Climbing out of Elise's bed in the predawn hours was just about the hardest thing he ever had to do. Unfortunately, though he would like to forget everything and stay right here, he had obligations waiting for him, the last few finishing details to the McFarlane Lodge, and knew they needed to make an early start.

Okay, he hadn't minded the early start—especially when he woke with a soft, sleepy Elise in his arms. She had kissed him, her body warm and pliant, and they had pleasured each other while dawn stretched across the sky.

He would have liked to think the incredible night and morning they spent in each other's arms could magically solve all the issues between them.

Unfortunately, reality wasn't always so cooperative. With each mile that he drove closer to Thunder Canyon, she seemed to pull away from him, until it was all he could do not to jerk the pickup around and head back to Billings.

Though she continued to make small talk with him—about the weather, about the Christmas gifts she was
giving her family, about the things she had enjoyed at her job at the bookstore—she seemed distant, distracted.

Her words would sometimes trail off in the middle of a sentence and he would shift his attention from the road for a moment, to find her gazing absently out the window.

Finally, when they were only a mile outside the Thunder Canyon town boundaries, he knew he had to do something to try yanking her back toward him.

“Connor McFarlane's lodge is nearly finished,” he said. “We should be wrapping it up today.”

“I've heard it's beautiful. Haley said your dad gave her a tour and she can't stop talking about all the luxurious details.”

“McFarlane's throwing a big party on Christmas Eve, inviting most of the town.”

“Yes. My mother and Grant are planning on going. Remember, the Castros said they were going, too.”

“That's right. I forgot we talked about it last night at dinner.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed her fingers. “I guess I've been a little distracted.”

He loved watching that little blush steal over her features. He had a feeling he would never tire of it.

“You and your father should certainly be the guests of honor for all the hard work you've put into the place.”

He shrugged. “Like you said about the ROOTS party the other night, it was a team effort. But watching people enjoy a place you've built is a gratifying experience.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Nerves curled in his gut, something that didn't sit well with him.

“Listen, I want to take a date to the party. Specifically, you.”

Her eyes widened and he didn't miss the barely perceptible clenching of her fingers in his.

“Matt, I'm not sure I'm ready for that.”

He gave her a long look across the width of the cab. “Funny. I would have thought last night proved you were.”