The Heart of Christmas (7 page)

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Authors: Brenda Novak

BOOK: The Heart of Christmas
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7

S
ince Eve lived the farthest from town, the limo dropped her friends off first. It was raining by the time they pulled into her drive, but at midnight it was early yet, considering how late they used to stay out for special events.

A night on the town with the gang wasn’t what it used to be. Now that Cheyenne was pregnant and couldn’t stand for very long, Addy had a newborn she didn’t like to leave for more than a couple of hours and Ted and Sophia had a fifteen-year-old who was home alone, the fun ended a lot sooner than it would have a couple of years ago. Much to Baxter’s consternation, they’d left San Francisco before all the good parties had even started.

But Eve couldn’t blame her friends. If she were in their shoes, she’d want to get back, too. She just didn’t have anything to rush home for—unless she wanted to continue worrying about last night. And she really didn’t. She’d told herself she wouldn’t even think about it until she knew whether or not she was pregnant. But she’d thought of little else all evening.

Her phone pinged, signaling an incoming text message.

So much for your big birthday bash.

It was from Baxter. She’d texted him to thank him for the earrings he’d given her.

It’s fine,
she wrote.
We’re all getting older. Our lives are changing.

Screw that! The others can get old without us,
he responded.
Come stay with me next weekend. I’ll show you a good time.

He said that as if his life hadn’t changed, too, but he had a partner these days, and Eve got the impression that Scott wasn’t particularly interested in Baxter’s “old” friends. Bax had built a separate life in the city. But as sad as Eve was to lose so much of his time and focus, she was happy for him. He’d struggled to get over Noah, who didn’t have the slightest gay tendency and was now married to Addy. Eve hoped that with Scott, Baxter had found someone who could return his interest on
all
levels.

Weekends are hard during the holidays,
she wrote.
The B and B gets busy. But I’ll see you when you’re home for Christmas. I like Scott, by the way. You did well.

Scott likes you, too.

“Sure he does,” she grumbled. He’d barely acknowledged any of them....

A second text came immediately, and it sounded as if Bax was signing off, so she didn’t text him back.
Happy birthday!
it read.
And call me if you need anything, even if it’s just to bitch about life.

She smiled at her phone. He’d clued in to how she was feeling, but she was pretty sure she’d fooled everyone else.

The limo driver put the transmission in Park and came around to open her door.

Her friends had tipped him when they got out—they said they didn’t want her paying for anything—so she merely thanked him and sighed as she watched him pull away. She was about to remove her high heels so she wouldn’t twist an ankle on the gravel drive when she noticed a Land Rover parked beside her parents’ RV.

“Whose is
that?
” No one she knew owned a Land Rover.

She’d worn only a light sweater to the Bay Area because it looked better with her dress than her big wool coat. She regretted that decision now that it was wet and cold, but she was too curious to let the weather drive her inside quite so soon. This Land Rover didn’t belong at her house....

She was making her way over when the driver’s-side door opened. Brent Taylor got out, but he didn’t come toward her. He didn’t even step away from the vehicle so he could close the door. He simply stood there, waiting to see if he’d be welcomed.

“What...what are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.

“I wish I knew exactly,” he replied.

“You must have some idea.”

He didn’t respond; he just gave her a look that said it should be obvious.

“You’re back for more....”

“Why not? We both enjoyed last night.”

“You were drunk. We both were. And I thought you didn’t want to see me again, that you wanted what happened between us to be over. You grabbed your clothes and ran out of my house this morning as if I might try to tie you to the bed.”

“I know. I
did
want it to be over.”

She thought he should be a little more contrite and embarrassed after making it so clear that he didn’t want her contacting him. This guy didn’t do contrite or embarrassed, though. He was far too bold for that. “But...” she prompted.

He rested one arm on the door and the other on the top of his vehicle. “I can’t quit thinking about you.”

She took off her shoes. The rocks cut into the bottoms of her feet, but at least she wouldn’t trip and fall. “We’re already worried about a possible pregnancy.”

“I’m prepared this time.”

“So...you want to be with me. You just don’t want it to mean anything.”

He glanced away and rubbed his forehead. “I won’t be around for long.”

No strings attached.
He’d said that earlier. Would she
never
meet a man who was willing to fall in love?

The same old disappointment welled up, making her want to tell him what she thought of the meaningless encounters he seemed to prefer. But she didn’t have any right to judge him. She was the one who’d started this by bringing him home last night. They were different people who wanted different things. In any event, she was determined to continue to be polite. “Thanks for going to the trouble of coming all the way out here. I can see why you would. I probably sounded like a desperate fool last night when I was telling you about my birthday and...all of that. But there are other women who can give you what you’re looking for, and I think you’ll have a much better time.”

He straightened. “You’re saying I should seek out someone else?”

“I am. I can even help you find someone, if you want. Noelle, the waitress from Sexy Sadie’s who brought us home last night, would be a good bet. It’s common knowledge that she sleeps around. And in case you didn’t notice, she has these
huge
implants.”

“That should be exciting for a guy as shallow as me, huh?”

“For a guy who’s just looking for a good time,” she clarified. “And if she’s not working tonight, I’m sure if you hang out at the bar long enough, you won’t go home alone.”

When he didn’t say anything, she drew a deep breath. “I’ll tell you how to get there from here.”

He swore and hung his head. Then he met her eyes again. “I’m not interested in Noelle or her implants—or anyone else at Sexy Sadie’s, Eve. I know what I want, and I want you.”

He seemed taken aback when she laughed outright and shook her head. “No, you don’t. The way I behaved last night might seem to contradict this, but I’m actually very old-fashioned. For me, making love is still about getting close to someone, being vulnerable, sharing concerns and fears and lives, making a commitment. You
definitely
don’t want to be with me.”

No response.

“Noelle would be better suited to what you’re looking for,” she said since she couldn’t tell whether she’d convinced him. “I can call over there to see if she’s working. She’ll think she’s died and gone to heaven if you walked in and asked to take her home. Especially if she felt she was stealing something from me.”

“I may not be able to give you a future, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want meaningful contact, just like you do. Let me hold you tonight. Please,” he added softly.

They were both getting wet. Eve wrapped her thin sweater tightly around her as she blinked against the rain. “But this is crazy. I may already be pregnant....”

“I told you, I have birth control. So being together now won’t make that situation any worse.”

“Still—”

“Do you
want
to be with me?” he asked. “Be honest.”

She was reluctant to say yes, although that was the truth, so she said nothing. But he understood what her silence meant.

“Then don’t send me away. And stop talking about women like Noelle. My life feels empty enough already.”

* * *

Rex held his breath, hoping he’d managed to persuade her. He needed something to fight the sense that he was constantly drifting. Eve could offer him a respite. He knew that. He felt a connection with her similar to the one he’d felt with Laurel. But Virgil’s sister had come into his life too soon, when it was still a mess, when
he
was a mess and couldn’t seem to vanquish his demons.

“Well?” he asked.

She was still standing there in the rain, gaping at him.

“I don’t know what to say. Except for last night, I’ve never...engaged in a temporary arrangement like this. I’m not even sure I can...meet your expectations.”

“What expectations? It’s not as if you suddenly have to perform like a porn star. I want one honest engagement. That’s it. Then, tomorrow, I’ll do what’s best for both of us and leave you alone.”

She rubbed her arms, trying to ward off the cold. “Why is that best?”

“I have certain...practical concerns, reasons I need to keep moving.”

“Are you wanted by the police?”

“No. I can promise you I’m not a criminal.” He’d been in WitSec at one time, but he’d left when they couldn’t provide the protection he needed. He found he was better off living by his wits. No one was more motivated to save his own skin than he was.

“Then what?” she asked.

“Call it wanderlust.” He had to tell her
something
she’d believe, or she’d keep questioning him, or wondering silently. “Anyway, I’ll never be the kind of man you need.”

She’d agree if she knew his background. He struggled every day to overcome everything he’d done and been. That didn’t make him a good romantic candidate for anyone, especially such a nice girl. She deserved someone as uncomplicated and innocent as she was, not a man with the baggage he carried. Not someone who hadn’t spoken to his family in years. Not an ex-con, ex–gang member, ex–OxyContin addict. He doubted she’d even let him in the house if he told her. He didn’t look like a man who’d have those kinds of skeletons in his closet, which was lucky for him. He probably wouldn’t have been able to start his bodyguard business and be so successful at it otherwise.

“So what do you say?” he asked.

When she nodded, he released his breath.
I have one night,
he told himself. One night to pretend he was as normal as anyone else.

* * *

She was really going to do this.

Eve’s heart threatened to pound right out of her chest as Brent Taylor swung her into his arms to save her feet from the sharp rocks and carried her across the yard. This had to be the craziest, riskiest thing she’d ever done—particularly with her parents at home and asleep in their house just a hundred yards away. But it was also exciting. The smell of Brent’s skin, that hint of aftershave or deodorant or whatever it was, brought back memories of last night, and those were some darn good memories.

She unlocked the door while he held her, and he shouldered it open. She thought he’d put her down once they passed into the hall, but he didn’t. He carried her straight back to the bedroom.

“Maybe we should open a bottle of wine first,” she suggested, hoping alcohol might ease her anxiety as much as it had last night.

“No,” he said. “You’re going to have to cope with your nerves. I want to feel everything, and I want you to feel it, too. And it’s already after midnight. I’m not wasting any time.”

He didn’t sound like a guy who was just looking for a warm body, for whom any warm body would do. Eve didn’t get that, since he fit the stereotype in every other way. “Why? Why does this night mean so much to you—without meaning anything at all?” she asked.

“You remind me of someone,” he admitted.

Finally, she understood.
That
was why he wasn’t interested in Noelle or another woman.

Eve wasn’t thrilled to learn the truth, but at least he was being honest. “I see. What’s her name?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Can you tell me where she lives?”

He put her down on the bed. “Does it matter?”

“You’re the one who’s acting like it does.”

“Montana.”

“Did you leave her or—”

“It didn’t work out between us. She’s married to someone else now.”

Somehow that made this far less frightening than it had been a moment ago. It also made it less exciting to know he’d have his mind on someone else. But God, this guy could kiss. And once he started kissing her, it was easy to forget that she wasn’t really the woman he wanted.

* * *

Eve was less like Laurel than Rex had thought. She talked differently, moved differently, responded differently to the things he did. At first he feared he’d built up the similarities between the two women so much that making love to Eve wouldn’t be as satisfying as he’d hoped. But the more he touched her, the more he forgot about Laurel and the more he enjoyed exploring this new woman.

Physically, Eve was flawless, but he hadn’t taken her to bed because of that. He was looking for something else and, even though she wasn’t Laurel, she held a certain...promise. He liked that there was no history between them, none of the turbulence that had ended up tainting his relationship with Laurel. Despite the doubts he’d caused by being so secretive, Eve treated him as though he was what he seemed to be—a professional, successful thirtysomething businessman. That gave him a sense of freedom he’d never had with his best friend’s sister. When he was with Eve, it was as if he’d never been “Pretty Boy,” as The Crew called him. As if he’d never been the kid who’d screwed up and encouraged his little brother to jump off that ledge when they were cliff-diving or the angry teen who’d turned to drugs to numb the pain of being responsible for that brother’s loss. Here, in this town, he could almost believe the image he saw reflected in Eve’s eyes, felt almost as deserving of good things as everyone else.

“I can’t imagine the devil kissing any better than you do,” she told him.

“That’s because the devil taught me everything I know,” he said, and nearly chuckled at the thought that she had no idea how true that statement was.

He ran his lips over her neck, reveling in the softness of her skin.

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