Sweet Christmas Kisses (59 page)

“Impressive.”  She grinned, not helping slow his heart rate.

He tried not to grin back like a lovestruck idiot.  “Hey, I took one for the team.  You should be impressed.”  He replaced the lid.

“It was a bee sting, not a scorpion strike.  Let’s check out the bus stop.”  She lifted the tool box and led the way this time, walking at a good clip instead of at a slower, handicapped aide’s pace.

You’d only resent her if she did.

Jax smiled and hustled after her.  It was a fairly clear path.  The undergrowth had been trimmed raggedly on either side.  “Who cuts back the jungle?  Not Sister Mary Ofelia.”

“Usually one of the men from the village.  I’ve been doing it since I arrived.”  She patted the machete hanging from her belt.  Tiff was an appealing contradiction of New York polish and gutsy frontier woman.  She stepped out onto the road and into the full sunlight.  It danced off her brown hair.  She shaded her eyes, glancing up and down the road.  “I’ll never get used to how fast the rain dries up around here.  Across the river it’ll be muddy for another day.”

Jax moved beside her.  The mud and gravel were no longer a shallow stream.  He glanced at a tilted mess of wood planks and tin.  “I take it they don’t set posts in concrete for stability.”

“Nope.”

“If we had some bamboo to sink as posts, this thing wouldn’t collapse.”  All those years of doing household chores with his dad was coming in handy today.

“I can cut some bamboo.”  Tiff gestured to a bamboo cluster across the road, and withdrew her machete.

Standing in that shaft of sunlight, holding a weapon, she was beautiful.  She was also intelligent, compassionate, and independent.  His heart was in big trouble here.

She raised a dark, slender brow.  “Are you feeling okay?  That’s the second time this morning you’ve gotten a funny expression on your face.”

He’d seen his comrades look goofy when they fell for a woman.  Only made sense that he’d look the same.  Not that he could tell her he was falling for her.  He scrambled for an acceptable response.  “I was just trying to calculate the length of bamboo we’ll need.” 
Good save
.  “I’m thinking about eight feet.  While you’re doing that, I’ll see about salvaging what I can from this mess.” 
And think of a way to tell you how I feel.

Was he nuts?  He hadn’t even kissed her.

She turned, surveying the trees.

A clump of greenery caught his eye in the tree above them as she stepped away.  “Wait.”

Her shoulders tensed.  “What is it?  A snake?  A spider?  Is it on me?”

“It’s mistletoe.”  He pointed above them.  “You know what that means.”

She glanced up, her cheeks blooming as softly as that wildflower scent she wore.  “That’s not mistletoe.” 

“Come here, wife.”  He held out his hand.  “You can’t be
unido
without a kiss.”

She swallowed.  Her cheek color deepened to a dusky rose.  “You wanted an annulment.”

“I haven’t had my coffee today.  I was out of my mind.”  He would be if she didn’t kiss him.  “Forgive me.”

“Jax, I – ”

“We’ve survived a snake stalking, a flood, and a thunderstorm.  Kiss me, Tiff.  Kiss me like the vows we agreed to yesterday mean something.”  He limped toward her, not caring that his movements weren’t smooth.  This was Tiff.  She wouldn’t care.  “All these signs mean we’re meant to be together.”

She didn’t move.  Not to encourage him.  Not to ward him off.

That was a good thing, wasn’t it?  “Do I have to do everything myself?” he whispered.  “You won’t meet me halfway?”

She swallowed again, her gaze on his lips.  She wanted that kiss.  She wanted
his
kiss.

He closed the distance between them with another suave hop-step. 

His hand to her cheek.  “So soft.”  His thumb to her lips.  “So warm.”  His nose met hers.  “So sweet.”

“Jax, I…
Jax?
”

He’d drawn away.  “That was an Eskimo kiss. 
Unido
sealed.”  He began to turn away.

“That was no kiss.”  Ah, the fire in her tone.

He worked his jaw to prevent himself from smiling.  “It was.”

“No.  This is a kiss.”  She grabbed his T-shirt and tugged him close.  Her lips claimed his.  Urgently.  Possessively. 

She was everything he’d expected – sweet, passionate, a spark that ignited his flame.  He dropped his cane and slid his hands around her waist, negating the empty space between them, negating the emptiness inside of him.

He blazed a trail with his lips across her cheek and down the slender column of her delicate throat.

Her breath was as ragged as his, except she had enough oxygen to speak.  “Oh, Jax.”  She sounded like an angel.

He nipped at the smooth skin at the base of her neck.

“Oh, Jax.”  She sounded like an angel about to fall completely and utterly in love.

He worked his way back up to her ear.

“Oh, Jax.”  She stiffened and screamed.  “There’s something in my hair.”  She spun in his arms.  “Get it out.  Oh, get it out!”

Sure enough.  It was a bug.  A big purple dragon fly, legs tangled in her braid.  He freed it.  And when he did, Tiff hurried across the road and began hacking bamboo.

“Come back here, wife.”

She didn’t answer. 

And she didn’t look back.

An hour after cutting bamboo posts, building a new lean-to, and not talking about that electric kiss, they headed back to the convent.  Tiff carried a leftover board Jax thought he could use to fix the dining room bench, and the shovel she’d used to dig post holes.

She shouldn’t have kissed him.  She fell in love with the speed most people decided to try the daily special.  She couldn’t put Jax through the microscope that was her life in the states.  And she couldn’t risk encouraging him only to hurt him later.  She liked him.  She liked him far too much.  And his kiss…He had mad skills.  But in this case, it wasn’t him that was wrong for a relationship, it was her.

“I wish you would’ve let me dig the holes,” Jax said for the umpteenth time.  A complaint infinitely preferable to him asking what he’d done wrong when they’d kissed.

She didn’t break stride ahead of him.  “Don’t tear up your man card just yet, Jax.  I don’t mind hard work.”  He started to say something else, but she cut him off.  “And before you tell me it makes you look weak, may I remind you how hard it is to balance on one leg and a cane while wielding a hammer?  You burned more calories than I did.”

He sighed.  It was an endearing sigh, one of capitulation.  “I bet you don’t let guys open doors for you either.”

“You’d be surprised what I let guys do when I’m wearing four-inch heels.”  She put the shovel back with the other tools beneath the convent, and propped the plank against a stilt.  It was hot and she was a damp, sweaty mess.  She untied her bandana, lifted the braid from her shoulder, and wiped the sweat from her neck and face.

Jax caught up with her.  He walked slower without his prosthetic, but he wasn’t winded.  “If wearing four-inch heels means you let a man kiss you, please tell me you have skyscraper heels upstairs.”

Hair still held to her crown, she glanced over her shoulder at him.  “No.”

“Oh, my God.”  Jax grasped her arm and turned her around.  “I just realized where I’d seen you before.  You’re the Fleeing Fiancee.  The Bon-Bon Heiress.  The Runaway Bride.” 

Her cheeks heated.  “Don’t forget the Bon-Voyage Bride, the Goodbye Bride, and the Fanciful Fiancee.” 

“A Bonander from Bon-Bon Chocolates.  My mom used to buy me a Bon-Bon Bunny every Easter.”  He laughed.  “I’m tripping.  You’re a celebrity.  And you’re here.  In the wilds of Ecuador.”

“Yep, I’m here,” Tiff deadpanned, wishing a bug would fly in her hair again.

Jax was still in recognition mode, putting the pieces together.  “I saw you in People when I was overseas.  Someone had taken your picture as you fled down the church steps.  Your hair was up, like you just had it.  And wow.”  He wiped a hand behind his neck.  “Isn’t this awkward?”

“For me, yes.”  She maneuvered the plank between them.

“You must have been engaged to a lot of guys to earn all those nicknames.”  He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully.  He was probably regretting that kiss. 
Smart man.

“You must have seen me in more than one magazine to know so many of my monikers.”  She couldn’t hide her bitterness.  Each gossip magazine created their own nickname for her.  Headline writers must be paid by the cheese factor.

He nodded.  “I was in the hospital for quite awhile.  I needed something light to read.”

“Why didn’t you read a sports magazine?”  Why wasn’t he running for the hills?  Didn’t he realize she was the ultimate relationship tsunami?  She created chaos in the lives and broke the hearts of the men she’d loved.

“Are we arguing about gossip magazines?”

Tiff sealed her lips, refusing to feel embarrassed by her past.  What was it he’d said earlier about the white lies people told themselves? 

“We are.”  His voice was filled with wonder.  His mouth curved in that familiar half-smile  “This is our first fight.”

“I believe we’ve been fighting for the past twelve hours about the need to prove ourselves to others.”  He’d wanted to annul the
unido
.  Now he had a good reason to.  She spun away, heading toward the stairs.  “Go ahead.  Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That I led you on when I kissed you.  That you can’t trust me or my feelings given I’ve already broken so many engagements.”  She reached the bottom step.

Somehow, he’d kept up with her.  He caught her arm.  His grip was firm, but tender.  Or maybe she was deluding herself again.

“Don’t tell me men have said that to you before.”  A whirl of anger and frustration vibrated through his words like the buzz of that bee.  “Or is this what you expect of men?  Of me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?  My own father thinks I’m a flake.  Why would any man I’m interested in think otherwise?”  She tugged her arm free.  “How can you be sure the feelings I think I have for you are real?  How can you…when I…?”

“Can’t even trust yourself?”  He rested his palm over her cheek.  “Haven’t we been talking about believing in ourselves?  Everyone has doubts, but it takes trust and faith to commit.”

“Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?  The stories about me are true.  I fall in love and then I bail.”  It pained her to say it out loud.

He pressed a brief kiss to her lips.  “Those men didn’t know you.  They knew Tiffany Bonander with her Fifth Avenue fashion and her four-inch heels.  That’s not the entirety of who you are.”

“You don’t get it.”  Tiff was tired.  Tired of ending things.  Tired of pretending she didn’t hurt when she closed a relationship.  Tired of this empty feeling that she was destined to be alone.  “Don’t, Jax.  Trust me when I say that odds are I’ll break your heart.”

“Tiff, the only way that’s possible is if you accept it first.  Slow down.  We’ve only just kissed.”

She felt ill.  Her hand drifted over her stomach.  “We committed to something in there last night.  I know it was without your consent.  And everything would have been fine if you’d only kept it platonic.  But now there’s something more and I’m not the follow-through type of girl.”  She ran upstairs, unable to face him any longer.

She pushed the slightly ajar door all the way open, righting it before taking off her boots and putting on flip-flops.  Time for a change of subject.  “I bet this board is the perfect size for that bench,” she said when he limped into the doorway.  That was another problem.  He shouldn’t seem so strong and masculine walking around on a cane. 

She sighed.  It wouldn’t matter what he looked like–handsome or homely, muscular or weak.  He was Jax and she found every fiber of his being, every thread of his personality, appealing.  She was so screwed.

“How many times have you been engaged, Tiff?”

“Do we have to do this?”

“Yes.”

He was persistent.  “Five.” 

“So this is the first time you’ve been married?  That means something, don’t you think?”

“It means I didn’t want to turn you out into the rain.”  She held the board to the bench, but she didn’t really see it.  She was remembering Chad’s face when she’d bolted out of their engagement party.  He’d looked hurt, and then angry.  So very angry.  And the aftermath?  He’d sold every private moment they’d shared to the highest bidder, complete with pictures.  “My last fiancé claimed I was incapable of love.”

“You can’t believe that.”  His voice was a husky growl of disapproval.  “You shouldn’t believe that.  I certainly don’t.”  He took two steps into the room.  “What happened Tiff?  I’m not asking for a blow-by-blow.  But you’re down here in Ecuador with nothing but hard work to fill your days.  That leaves a lot of time to think.”

“I…”  She shouldn’t tell him.  She wouldn’t tell him.  She told him.  “The falling in love part is easy.  New York is a whirlwind of parties and nightlife.  It isn’t until the everyday happens that I’d realize we were wrong for each other.”

“That sounds like a healthy perspective.”

“Why couldn’t I have that perspective in the first place?”  Before the hoopla.

“It’s called experiencing life and learning from your mistakes.” 

Tiff was silenced by the logic of his words.  And yet, she couldn’t truly believe them.

Jax took the board from her and sat on the table, lifting the broken bench from its resting place against the wall.  “I think you’re right.  This will be a good fit.  Hand me the hammer and some nails, would you?”

That was it?  He wasn’t going to try and convince her he was right?  What was happening here?

She drifted to the hot plate on the counter and his clothes hanging above it.  The sleeves that protected his knee were almost dry.  She turned to tell him.

And that’s when she saw the snake.

Jax should have been used to Tiff screaming by now.

He wasn’t.

She was backing up, shrieking and pointing at his feet.  Her cry of terror morphed into a word.  And the word sounded an awful lot like, “SNAKE!”

Jax leapt forward, landing on three limbs, before pivoting into a stand, using the wall for balance.  The reptile in question was only a foot long, but it was red, black, and white.  A coral snake.