Swept Away for Christmas Page 17

  He kissed her breathless, and it was like those heartwarming movie moments. Granted, there was no picturesque snow softly falling. Nor was there a background chorus of Christmas carols. She kind of thought she heard “Cheeseburgers in Paradise” playing from a neighboring balcony. Close enough.

  When she found the willpower to pull away, she stuttered, “B-but you live in Mobile.”

  “They have schools there. Maybe one of them needs an excellent fourth grade teacher. Or maybe I can think about relocating. The beauty of hiring fabulous employees is they can run the place without my micro-managing. I'll call Bruce about the feasibility of an eventual location in Huntsville.”

  Stretching up on her tip-toes, she nipped at his bottom lip. “Not on his honeymoon, you won’t!”

  “Well, no. I didn’t mean now.” He shot her a wicked look. “I was hoping to be too busy to make any phone calls tonight. How would you feel about my taking you back inside and kissing every inch of your body for the next few hours?”

  Her pulse quickened, but she pretended to think it over. “I was going to watch the Grinch…”

  He chuckled. “Maybe this will help win you over. Come here—I have an early Christmas present for you.” Taking her hand, he led her to the edge of the balcony.

  She stared at the sand below, swallowing hard, unable to believe what she was seeing. The words I LOVE YOU were spelled out on the beach. “Are those…?”

  “Seashells,” he affirmed. “Took me awhile to collect them all, or I would have been up here sooner.”

  Tears stung her eyes. She wanted to tell him she loved him too, but her throat was constricted with emotion.

  “I know six years is a lot of time to waste,” he said, “but look at Bruce. His feelings never wavered and now he’s finally with the woman he loves. I’ve never seen two people happier. Maybe you and I…”

  In answer, she simply held out her hand. When he took it, she led him to the bedroom.

  They stumbled into the bed, trying to kiss each other everywhere at once. Finn lifted her shirt, and she was glad she hadn’t bothered with a bra. He caressed one breast with clever fingers while kissing the other, until she thrashed beneath him. She could feel the heat of his erection against her leg and was anxious to touch him, too.

  She bit his earlobe. “Strip, McBride.”

  He grinned at her. “You’ve developed a bossy streak. I like it.”

  Soon, they were both naked. They stroked and kissed and rediscovered each other until Shelby was shaking with need. Finn seemed none too steady either.

  Rolling a condom over his hard length, he met her gaze. “If you’re going to change your mind, do it now. I’m pretty sure if you tell me to stop in another minute, it will kill me.”

  She gripped his taut buttocks, urging him forward. “Well, we can’t have that.”

  But he hesitated, bracing himself above her. “This has to be a mistake.”

  “What?”

  “There’s no way I’m on the nice list,” he said, “so how did I end up getting everything I ever wanted?” He slid into her slowly. Shelby moaned, her inner muscles contracting around him. It was even better than she remembered. He paused, not yet moving, his eyes locked with hers. “How did I end up with the greatest gift of my life?”

  “M-maybe Santa believes in second chances,” she panted as he withdrew and flexed his hips, pushing into her again. “Don’t you?”

  “I believe in us.” He buried himself fully inside her, leaning down to take her mouth in a tender kiss. “Now and forever.”

  ***

  After they’d made love twice, then talked, then shared leftovers from the Donavans, then made love again, Shelby found herself staring at the glowing numbers of the digital clock on the nightstand. 12:03. A happiness more complete than anything she’d ever known permeated her body.

  “Merry Christmas,” she whispered to Finn.

  “Back at you.”

  For the rest of her life, there would be no gift anyone could offer that measured up to what Finn had given her tonight.

  “Would you like anything from the kitchenette?” he asked. “I’m going for water. Need to hydrate if we’re gonna do that a fourth time.”

  She laughed. “Then I guess I’ll take some, too.”

  The minute he was out of the room, she grabbed her cell phone off the nightstand and rapidly began texting.

  Don’t respond—you’re on your honeymoon! But I felt legally obligated as your BFF to tell you first, I’m in love w/ Finn. And he loves me.

  Only seconds passed before the phone screen lit up with YES!!! I knew it.

  Grinning, Shelby shoved her phone into the nightstand drawer as Finn returned to the hotel room. Someday—maybe not for months, or even years—she was going to marry Finn McBride. Whenever it happened, she already knew exactly who she was asking to be her matron of honor.

  About The Author

  Four-time RITA finalist Tanya Michaels is the bestselling, award-winning author of more than thirty books. Her stories incorporate the same elements she values in real life—community, family and a sense of humor. Her current releases include the popular Colorado Cades trilogy for Harlequin American Romance.

  She lives in Atlanta, GA with a very patient husband as well as two kids and a dog who are plotting against her. When not writing, reading, or spending time with her family, Tanya watches entirely too much TV. She’s also made Twitter her virtual home. Join her there to hear about her life as a writer and the outrageous things her kids say.

  Cruisin’ for a Kiss

  By Trish Milburn

  Chapter One

  It might be early December, but Avery Phillips still lowered her car window as she crossed the Intracoastal Waterway. That was the beauty of the Gulf Coast. Winter here didn’t come with ice, snow and teeth-chattering cold.

  Any moment now, she’d be able to smell the salty sea air, take it deep into her lungs. Looking forward to that scent was one of the things that had gotten her through her drive from Atlanta. A drive that was coming a full three weeks earlier than she’d planned. That’s what happened when you suddenly found yourself without a job a month before Christmas. You thanked your lucky stars you at least found out about getting canned a couple of days before you signed a new apartment lease, stuffed your car to the gills with your belongings, and ran home to Grandma and Grandpa.

  Okay, so she didn’t exactly get canned. Chez, the home decorating magazine where she’d worked the past three years, had closed its doors, unable to make it in a crowded marketplace. So everyone from the owners down were out of a job. Though since the owners were something like seventh cousins twice removed from the British royal family, she was going to guess they’d be okay. Especially if their distant cousins forgave them for giving their magazine a French name.

  Avery turned off the car radio as she reached the highest point of the bridge. Ah, yes, there it was, the distinctive salty breeze coming off the blue-green water of the Gulf of Mexico. From this point on the bridge, she caught her first glimpse of the expanse of water beyond the small town of Starfish Shores. School and then her career had taken her away from her hometown, but it was always nice to come back for visits.

  Or for a chance to lick her wounds and figure out what to do next.

  As she descended off the bridge, she lost sight of the water. But it was only a couple of miles away, and tonight she’d be able to listen to those waves as she went to sleep. She rolled into Starfish Shores, marveling that it didn’t look much different from the day she’d left for school at the University of Florida. The moment she spotted the sign for the Top Tier Bakery and Coffeehouse, her stomach growled. The chicken nuggets she’d had for lunch were way gone, as in gone about the time she hit Montgomery. At the first thought of the bakery’s to-die-for cupcakes, she was making a quick turn into the parking lot. She’d had a crappy few days. She deserved a cupcake. Maybe two.

  Five minutes later, and armed with two decadent cupcakes — one lemon an
d one carrot — she felt slightly more ready to face the rest of the day and eventually telling her grandparents she was unemployed. Though it wasn’t her fault, it still felt like failure, especially when her grandparents had worked so hard to raise her and give her a good education after her parents’ deaths.

  She shook away that thought. Odd how such a fuzzy memory could still hurt. Truth was, she could barely remember her parents, had no recollection of the car accident that had killed them and left her miraculously unharmed in her carseat. Sometimes she wondered if all of her memories were just of the stories her grandparents had told about their daughter and son-in-law, reinforced by family photos.

  Avery took a giant bite of the lemon cupcake and closed her eyes, letting the sinfully moist treat push all unhappy memories and current woes aside. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear that baker Brenda Wesley was some magic-wielding supernatural being from a distant planet made entirely of sugar.

  Somehow Avery found the inner strength to not nosh on the second cupcake the moment she downed the first. She’d save it for later, enjoy it leisurely as she sat on her grandparents’ little deck and listened to the ebb and flow of the waves.

  Starfish Shores wasn’t a big town and hadn’t succumbed to the tax-base allure of high-rise condos. The residents liked their quaint, quiet beach town just as it was, and they weren’t about to elect anyone to the city council who would allow any building taller than a big palm tree. There were plenty other towns along the coast to cater to the condo crowd. The residents of Starfish Shores didn’t have anything against tourists. In fact, visitors were an important part of the local economy. Her hometown just appealed to vacationers who didn’t want to fight the same kind of traffic they’d left behind at home.

  Even though Avery had grown up here, she felt her body relax as she drove the short distance through town to her grandparents’ little beachfront home that sat next to the motel they’d been running since before Avery was born. Her mother had only been two when the Pelic-Inn opened for business. As she parked, Avery was struck by how little the motel had changed in her lifetime. Honestly, it looked remarkably like the photos from 1963, a slice of a different era.

  Before she could get out of the car, her grandmother was already stepping onto the small landing and waving. Avery smiled, love filling her at the sight of Alice Hart. A few warm hugs and some of Alice’s cooking were just what Avery needed to put herself back on the right track. Leaving her stuff in the car for now, hoping her grandmother didn’t notice it, Avery hurried up the stairs to the house.

  “There’s my baby girl,” Alice said, her arms held wide.

  Avery chuckled as she always did. It did no good to tell Alice that Avery wasn’t a baby anymore. In her eyes, her granddaughter would always be her baby. As a teenager, it had bugged the fire out of Avery. Now, it was just sweet.

  “Hey, Grandma.” She wrapped the tiny woman in her arms and squeezed as tightly as she dared.

  Alice pulled back from the embrace and cradled Avery’s face in her weathered, tanned hands. “It’s good to have you home, sweetie. I’ve made a big welcome-home dinner.” Alice grinned and wiped the edge of Avery’s mouth, revealing a smudge of lemon frosting. “Though it looks like someone stopped by the bakery on the way in.”

  “It’s not my fault. I mean, seriously, it’s right there when I come across the bridge, calling my name.”

  Alice laughed. “Well, I’m going to guess that you still have room for a home-cooked meal.”

  Avery wrapped her arm around her grandmother’s shoulders. “You know me well.” As she stepped inside, she noticed the big Christmas tree in the front corner of the house next to the wide windows that looked out on the Gulf. “You got a new tree.”

  “Yeah, the old one literally fell apart when we took it down last year. That thing was nearly as old as I am. I’ve been afraid I’ll start losing limbs ever since.”

  “Nonsense. I bet you could still dance half my friends to exhaustion.”

  Alice grinned as she went to the stove to stir what smelled like her special spaghetti sauce. “I think my dancing days are behind me.”

  That one simple sentence, one that shouldn’t be a surprise coming from a seventy-two-year-old woman, caused a wave of sadness to crash over Avery. Her grandparents had always been fun and vibrant for their ages, a fact that they attributed to raising full-of-life Avery. On the night Avery had graduated high school, instead of partying with friends she’d sat on the back deck until the wee hours talking with her grandmother. Alice had said that she and Avery’s Grandpa Jerry hoped they’d done a good job with her, that they’d wanted to give Avery as close to a normal parental experience as they could instead of being old, fuddy-duddy grandparents. Avery had meant every word when she’d taken her grandmother’s hand and told her she couldn’t have asked for better parents than they’d been to her. The look on Alice’s face then had squeezed Avery’s heart, a mixture of happiness and pride with an underlying layer of sadness.

  Ugh, why did she keep thinking about sad things? Had losing her job coated her with sadness glue or something? Dang it, she was going to be happy. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. She could spend the holidays with her grandparents, enjoy the peace of the beach, and find an even better job.

  “Need any help?”

  “No, I’ve got everything covered. Just waiting on your grandpa.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Next door. The printer was acting up, and Jenni was threatening to toss it off the bridge.”

  While her grandparents were semi-retired, Avery knew they still had their hands in the day-to-day operation of the motel. It was every bit as much their baby as she was.

  “I’ll go get him.”

  “Thanks, dear.”

  Avery caught herself hurrying halfway to the motel and forced herself to slow her pace. This was Starfish Shores, not Atlanta. This wasn’t a hurry sort of place, despite her natural inclination to do just that. Years of deadlines had only added to her rush, rush and rush some more way of life.

  She smiled wide when she caught sight of her grandpa bent over the printer at the registration desk. Jenni, the front desk clerk they’d hired when Avery entered her senior year of high school, stood next to him with her hands on her hips. Avery tried to imagine Jenni hauling a heavy computer up to the top of the bridge and flinging it to the wind. Knowing Jenni’s luck with technology, it would probably pop open mid-flight and coat her with a layer of toner.

  Suppressing a giggle, Avery flung open the door and marched in. “Come on, old man, I’m hungry and dinner’s waiting.”

  Her Grandpa Jerry looked up and smiled. “Well, aren’t you sassy today?”

  “I learned from the best.”

  Jerry rounded the front desk and pulled her into a bear hug then planted a kiss on her forehead. “You must have been flying to get here this early.”

  “I was driving along, minding the speed limit, and then I smelled Grandma’s spaghetti the moment I crossed into Alabama. I can’t be held responsible for my lead foot at that point. It’s all her fault.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Should have gotten you a bumper sticker for Christmas that says, ‘Will speed for spaghetti.’”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “There’s still time.”

  He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She wasn’t short, but her grandpa managed to dwarf her. A memory of her giggling as a kid when her grandma stood on a stool to kiss her grandpa made her smile even more.

  “You any good with printers, Avery?” Jenni asked. “Because I’m on the verge of printercide.”

  “I tend just to give them a good kick.”

  “Tried that. Nearly dislocated my hip.”

  Avery bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

  “I think it’s done for,” Jerry said. “I’ll run over to Gulf Shores after dinner and get a new one.”

  Was that a note of dread in his voice? Avery looked up at her grand
pa’s face, and it struck her how old he’d gotten. He still looked hale and hearty, but he also seemed more tired than she remembered. At seventy-four, he should be doing nothing more strenuous than sitting on the Gulf State Park Pier fishing and shooting the breeze with all the other fishermen. Instead, he was doing battle with an office machine.

  As the two of them walked back to the house, their arms hooked together, Avery scanned the motel parking lot and realized just how many parking spaces sat empty. Sure, it was December, not exactly the busiest season for beachgoing, but she remembered a time when there definitely would have been more cars in the lot.

  “How’s business?” she asked.

  “Ah, a little slow. But we’ve got a family reunion coming in next week.”

  Something about the way her grandpa didn’t meet her gaze when he answered told her more than his words. She suspected that the winter visitors, the snowbirds, were filling up the condos in neighboring communities. And she couldn’t blame them. Some of those units were likely nicer than the houses they’d left behind. And if you were staying for an entire season, you’d want a kitchen and lots more living space than a room at the Pelic-Inn could provide.

  “Don’t worry, hon.”

  Avery looked up to see her grandpa finally looking at her. “I’m not.”

  “Uh-huh. I know you better than that.”

  She let the subject drop in favor of getting to the spaghetti sooner rather than later. As they all filled their plates and sat down to eat, her grandparents told her all about what was up with the locals. She noticed how many of the tales had something to do with her former classmates having babies. Kensey Stratton was up to number four. To Avery’s way of thinking, Kensey had already produced enough children to do her part of populating the earth as well as Avery’s.

  After they finished eating, her grandpa leaned back in his chair. “So, hon, go ahead and spit it out.”