Christmas Comes to Main Street (17 page)

Now it was Kara's turn to laugh. She closed the distance between them under the guise of inspecting the tree, but she felt a little shiver at the proximity, the brush of his wool coat against her own, the subtle heat that came from his body, a contrast against the cold winter night. “You've been in my apartment. That would never fit.”

“It would if you got rid of all your furniture.” Nate winked, then nudged her playfully. “Hey, I thought you went all-out for Christmas. Don't let me down.”

Kara took the opportunity to cozy up next to him, feel the heat of his body next to hers, the reassuring size of him, and lost the battle of her mounting desire. This flutter, this thrill… it was what people talked about, what she'd been waiting to find.

“Cold?” he asked, gesturing to her hands.

Dutifully, she handed them over, and he slipped her mittens off her hands, tucking them in his pocket along with his gloves. He began kneading her fingers slowly, massaging each one by one, the pressure of his touch gentle but firm, the heat of his skin smooth and persistent. Fire shot through her belly and lower, as his fingers worked magic on her own, her entire body heating from his touch.

“Better?” he asked as he slid her mittens back onto her hands.

She could only nod and swallow back the tingle that was firing low down in her stomach. “Much better.”

“Good. Then let's get our tree.”

Our tree
. She tucked her chin into her scarf, hiding her smile as they wound their way through the rest of the lot. In the end they decided on a seven-foot noble fir and told Bob they'd carry it themselves. Kara suspected it was more like they'd drag it, but she said nothing as Nate confidently said no delivery would be necessary. Normally Kara would have paid for the service, but given Nate's strong hands and wide back, there was no doubt in her mind that Nate could manage the tree himself. The thought of his strength sent a tingle through her.

Ignoring her protests, Nate paid for the tree. “Consider it an early Christmas gift,” he said, slipping his wallet back into his pocket. “Besides, this is the first Christmas tree I've ever picked out, so I'm hoping for visitation rights.”

Kara's pulse kicked. “I think that can be arranged,” she said smoothly, even though inside, her stomach was fluttering with excitement.

His grin flashed. “Good.” Sliding his gloves on, he reached down and took hold of the top end of the tree. Kara grabbed the trunk and they began the slow trudge back to her apartment. They walked in silence, their conversation revolving mostly around maneuvering the large item and when to stop to rest, which Kara was a little surprised to realize she needed to do several times along the way.

“I never realized trees could be so heavy!” she explained the fifth time they'd stopped in less than three blocks.

Nate regarded her quizzically. “You're from Briar Creek, right? That's the kind of comment I'm allowed to make, not you.”

“I guess I just never… carried the tree before.” It really would have been easier to deal with the fake kind. Even if they did look, well, fake.

She started to worry about how she would get it out of her apartment once the holidays were over. She'd have to ask Luke to come over and help, and she hated the thought of it. Maybe she could cut it up, bring it down piece by piece… But then she supposed that would require a chainsaw, and that just felt entirely too crazy to consider. She sighed. She liked to think she didn't need to be married or have a boyfriend to live what she considered a normal life, but the sorry truth was that she doubted Ivy or Grace or Anna had to consider this dilemma.

“It's part of the entire Christmas experience,” Nate said. “You pick it out, you carry it home. You decorate it. If I'm going to do Christmas, I'm going to really do Christmas.”

“You don't mess around,” Kara remarked, suspecting that this attitude extended to other things in Nate's life.

“Nope,” Nate said, his dark eyes intensifying their hold on hers. “I don't. Life's too short. If you're going to do something, go all in or don't bother.”

Kara nodded, knowing that she hadn't exactly lived by this motto… until recently. She was all in with that bakery, well past knee-deep; she was giving it her heart and soul, everything she had.

Except a small part of her was still waiting, and hoping… for someone to come along and give her all the other things that were still missing from her life—a strong hand to hold, a person to laugh with, to tease, to bring her soup when she was feeling sick. A man who was starting to feel more and more like the one standing right in front of her.

The tree looked right at home wedged in the corner between her front window and the hearth. Almost as at home as Nate was beginning to feel in her small apartment.

She looked over at him, sitting on her sofa, untangling a string of lights with a frown creasing his brow. “How the heck did you let this happen?” he asked.

Kara just laughed. The timer to the oven dinged, and Kara reluctantly left to run to the kitchen just in time to pull the cookie tray from the oven. She let them cool while she made cocoa from white hot chocolate shavings and steamed milk, and then added some whipped cream and the same crushed candy canes she'd sprinkled on top of her chocolate fudge cookies. In the background, carols played softly, and so far Nate hadn't made a sound of complaint.

Her heart tugged when she thought of what he'd shared with her, but she smiled as she brought the tray into the living room. This man deserved a merry Christmas. And she might be able to give him just that.

Nate stood up and grinned triumphantly. “The lights are ready.” He crouched to plug them into the socket, but Kara stopped him.

“No, not yet!” she cried, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “Not until we're finished with the tree. That's all part of the magic.”

He looked at her doubtfully, but his mouth curved into a grin as he began stringing the lights over the branches. “You're an expert on this, are you?”

“I have a lot of experience, you might say.” Kara picked up a mug of hot chocolate and handed it to him. “It probably seems silly to you, but it's easy for me to get caught up in the holiday.”

“It's not silly. You have happy memories. What's not to enjoy?” He looked down at his cocoa. “Is peppermint in everything in this town?”

Kara laughed. “Well, it is Christmas. But I can take it off if you'd like.”

“No,” he said, taking a sip. “It's growing on me. Like some other things.” He held her gaze, and Kara's heart skipped a beat.

She looked away, shaking aside the ripple of excitement that charged through her chest. “I'll get the ornaments.”

She left him to finish the lights, hurrying to her bedroom closet, where she stowed most of her personal belongings. The box was small, on the top shelf, and she found it quickly. Pulling it down, she began to walk back into the living room and then hesitated, briefly, to check her reflection in the mirror above her dresser and add a touch more lip gloss.

Ridiculous. So they enjoyed each other's company. The guy was probably passing time. Looking for an excuse to get a break from the inn and his aunt's demands for a few hours.

Except… the look in his eyes when she rounded the corner into the living room told her he might not be looking for an excuse at all. His gaze was direct, hooded and penetrating, and Kara felt a shift between them. Her pulse skittered with anticipation.

“Found them!” she announced, crossing the room to stand next to him. He reached for the box, his hands skimming hers, and locked her eyes for a beat. Kara felt her cheeks flush and swallowed hard.

She glanced at the flames flickering in the fireplace. “My, it's getting warm in here. I think I'll turn down the heat.”

Nate gave her a curious look. “Feels fine to me.”

“Does it?” Kara asked weakly. “Must be the hot chocolate.” And the fact that she couldn't recall ever feeling this way in a man's company. Most of the dates she'd had were polite and a little stiff, but certainly not exciting, and certainly not interesting enough to make her all giddy and nervous.

But then, this wasn't a date. And she'd best remember that.

They hung the ornaments, each taking a turn, their hands brushing the other's as they reached into the box, and Kara scooted past him, feeling her hip brush his thigh as she hung the last of them on the tree. She nearly tripped over the velvet tree skirt, and Nate reflexively reached out and grabbed her by the waist. His hands felt strong and secure wrapped around her body.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice warm and husky.

She nodded and finally managed, “I told you this place is cramped.”

His hands lingered on her waist before he finally released her, and she turned to him, seeing the hooded look of his eyes, sensing the possibility of something she was beginning to long for.

She cleared her throat, her nerves getting the better of her, and gestured to the strand of lights. “You may now do the lights,” she said gallantly.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, may I? You sure? No more traditions that need to take place? No mistletoe or star—”

“The star!” She'd been so caught up in Nate's company, she'd almost forgotten the most precious part of her holiday. Kara clapped her hand over her mouth and darted back into her bedroom, quickly reemerging with the box holding her Christmas star. She opened the lid and gingerly lifted out the glittery gold star. “I've had this for as long as I can remember.”

Nate stepped forward and inspected the object. “Did you make this?”

Kara nodded, feeling her throat knot as hot tears welled. “It doesn't look like much, but it means the world. There was one Christmas where we were snowed in for days, couldn't leave the house, and it was too cold to even go sledding. My dad put us all to work making ornaments for the tree, even though we already had boxes of them in the attic. I made little snowmen from cotton balls, Molly made some felt elves. My dad made this.”

She blinked quickly, but it was no use. A single tear trickled down her cheek as she met Nate's gaze. He was frowning at her, but there was softness in his eyes as he reached up and slowly wiped her face with the pad of his thumb.

“Then our tree wouldn't be complete without it.”

She smiled. There was that word again.
Our
tree. She could get used to that.

She held the star gently in her hands, wondering what had become of Molly's elves, if any had been saved over the years. Though she knew Molly had fine-tuned her wedding registry long before she was ever actually engaged, Kara wanted to give her something special and sentimental. She made a silent promise to herself to look through the attic next time she was at her mother's house.

Nate took her hand as she climbed onto one of the Windsor chairs from her dining table and then moved his hands down to her legs as she secured the star to its branch. Year after year, a little bit of glitter fell off, and she was careful to preserve as much of it as she could, taking her time with the placement to ensure it wouldn't fall off. It was just made of cardboard, but a dent would be devastating.

“I almost have it,” she said.

“No rush,” Nate said, his voice low and deep and—dare she say slightly suggestive? She had been so fixated on the star that she hadn't paid attention, but now she noticed the way his hands gripped her legs, the way they moved this way and that, as if exploring her, caressing her even.

“There. All done.” She hopped off the chair, landing dangerously close to his body.

“Anything else?” His mouth quirked, and she fixated on it for a moment, wondering what he tasted like, how he felt.

“Just one more thing,” she said. “When you turn on the lights, you have to make your Christmas wish.”

He chuckled as he bent down and connected the strand to the socket. Immediately the tree sprang to life, lighting up the room in a warm glow, reflecting off the ornaments that now shone and glistened, her father's star glittering at the very top.

“Beautiful,” she sighed, taking it all in.

“It is.”

Kara had been so lost in the magnificence of the tree that she hadn't even realized Nate was watching her. Now the hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she looked over to him, her breath catching at the look in his eyes.

“Did you make your Christmas wish?” she asked.

She assumed he'd laugh it off, but instead he nodded once. “I did. And how about you? What's your Christmas wish?”

She swallowed hard, steeling herself from that unreadable expression, from the jumping jacks in her stomach. “Oh, for my bakery to succeed,” Kara said. But that wasn't true. Not entirely, at least. What she really wished for was for this—what she had right here, right now—to continue, just a little longer, past Christmas. “And yours?”

He leaned forward, closing the distance between their bodies, as his hand came around her waist. Kara inhaled sharply and felt the pull of his strength as she set a hand on his chest, feeling the steady drum under his sweater.

“This,” he whispered, slowly bringing his mouth to hers. His kiss was light, gentle, and heat pooled deep between her thighs as his mouth opened to hers. His tongue laced with hers, exploring her, bringing her deeper as he pulled her tight. Kara reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting their bodies fuse together, pressing the length of herself against the hard plane of his chest.

He pulled back slowly, looking into her eyes as a lopsided smile tugged at his mouth.

“And we didn't even need the mistletoe,” she whispered.

“What can I say?” Nate said. “This is shaping up to be the best Christmas yet.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Kara said through a smile as her lips found his once more.