Seventeen

Lily gazed at her husband, so handsome and rugged in his jeans and flight jacket. Dax fit this room with its big stone fireplace and comfy, if shabby, furniture. He fit here better than in the Vancouver condo.

The room had personality and character; it looked lived in. In her parents’ home, she and Anthony had learned to leave no sign of their presence. An image came into her mind, of Anthony’s and Regina’s living room. Her brother had loosened up since he’d married, and again since they’d had Sophia. But Lily maintained the discipline she’d learned as a child and had trained Dax to tidy up after himself. No wonder he rarely came back to a place that didn’t look like a home.

He reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. “I’ll turn on the heat then let’s go buy food. Do you want to eat in or go out tonight?”

“Let’s eat in. By the fire.” Food, wine, and a crackling fire. Relaxation, if such a thing were possible when so many huge issues hung over their heads. Even if they did rekindle their love for each other and decided they wanted to make their marriage work—which was a huge if—could they ever find a lifestyle that worked for both of them? One that gave Dax the freedom and outdoors life he needed, yet included a real home and the children she yearned for?

“Sounds good,” he said. “Before we go shopping, you should check your bag, see if there’s anything I forgot.”

He’d packed for her—which sort of annoyed her, yet she understood why he’d done it. The take-charge guy she’d fallen for had wanted to kidnap her and give her a romantic surprise. And he’d tried to be considerate: he’d given her egg salad and a spectacular flight, a real fireplace and her choice of dinner options. She wrapped her arms around his waist inside his unzipped jacket, tipped her head back, and gazed up at him. “Thank you, Dax. For all of this.” She swallowed. “For not losing hope.”

“You’re welcome.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and kissed her.

This kiss, like the one they’d shared before leaving Vancouver, started out gentle, but when Dax slipped his tongue between her lips, she met it eagerly. Mmm, if only the house wasn’t icy cold, how lovely it would be to light a fire and make love in front of it.

Reluctantly, she pulled away. “To be continued.”

“Count on it.” He picked up their luggage. “I’ll take these upstairs.”

She followed him up a wooden staircase. The second floor had a large bedroom with an en suite, the little boy’s room, a spare bedroom, and a bathroom. Dax placed her suitcase on the bed in the master bedroom and she checked the contents. He’d done surprisingly well, packing all the necessary toiletries, casual clothes, a dressy pantsuit, and one of her half dozen good dresses, this one tan and conservatively styled. Lingerie and high-heeled shoes but—she shook her head, amused—no panty hose. He had packed the lightweight, rose-colored sweater he’d once given her. Usually, she stuck with beiges and grays, but she got compliments when she wore this sweater.

Dax had also included the butterfly top Kim had given her, which she had yet to wear. It had been a birthday gift two months ago. A birthday Dax hadn’t come home for. He offered, but she figured he didn’t really want to and told him not to bother, she’d be working that day and then there’d be dinner with her parents. How typical of the way their relationship had gone.

Remembering something, she checked inside her cosmetics bag. Yes, her birth control pills were there. When, if ever, would she be able to toss them out?

“How did I do?” Dax’s voice drew her attention.

She tried to banish the regret and focus on the hope. “Amazingly well. But if we go out for dinner and I wear that dress, I’ll need pan-ty hose.”

“Oops.” Then he gave a wicked grin. “Or we could do that thing where you wear a dress and no underwear, and I play with you under the tablecloth until you come.”

“Dax!” They would never dare to do that. Would they? Had he omitted panty hose deliberately? “It’s winter,” she reminded him. “No woman would go out in public bare legged.”

“Garter belt and stockings?”

She huffed. “Let’s go shopping.”

But the idea stayed with her, teasing at the corners of her mind as, clasping gloved hands, they strolled the snowy path from the White Gold neighborhood into Whistler Village. She commented on how pure and crisp the air was. Dax traced a hammering sound to a red-headed woodpecker, and named the flock of tiny, chittering birds in an evergreen tree as pine siskins. They chuckled over a toddler in a pink snowsuit forming sloppy snowballs and pelting her father.

Entering the Village, they wandered past upscale stores, restaurants, and coffee shops. The town bustled with people dressed in winter wear, some carrying skis or snowboards. Everything was still decorated for Christmas: twinkling lights, holly, wreaths with pinecones, Santa Clauses, and reindeer.

Most of the clothing-store windows featured ski and snow wear but some had party clothes. A dress caught Lily’s eye. In a silky looking blue and gold fabric, it was sleeveless with a deep vee neckline and a belled skirt that ended above the knees. Not as dressy as an evening gown, but prettier and more feminine than her dresses.

“Want to go out for New Year’s Eve dinner tomorrow?” Dax asked.

“That would be nice, but I doubt we’d get in anywhere at this late date.”

“Don’t know until we try. Whistler doesn’t seem like a place where people do a lot of advance planning.”

“Maybe not. That French place we passed looked nice.”

“Let’s go back and see if they can fit us in.”

Lily glanced across the street, where she’d noticed a lingerie store. “Why don’t you do that, and I’ll buy my panty hose?” And perhaps something sexier.

“Sure. Meet you back here.” He gave her a quick kiss then strode away.

She hurried across the street and into the boutique with its display of lacy lingerie. A smiling brunette in a low-cut red sweater greeted her. “Happy New Year. Can I help you find something?”

Lily gazed around. Normally, she bought basic underwear designed for comfort, and Dax had never complained. “I need a pretty, lacy bra in 36B, a garter belt, and stockings. And quickly, before my husband comes back.”

“Come with me. You’ll want a matching thong?”

Lily followed her. “Right.” Of course she wouldn’t go out in public without panties.

“Black? With your coloring, you must look fantastic in black. Or how about champagne, to match your skin? You’ll look almost like you’re naked.”

Black wouldn’t work with the tan dress Dax had brought. Nor the blue and gold one in the shop window . . . “Champagne.”

The brunette held up a low-cut bra with lace-decorated cups. “This is my favorite. It’s very flattering. Want to try it on?”

“I don’t have time. It’s a surprise.”

She winked. “Lucky man. He’s going to have a great New Year’s.”

“I hope so.”

The woman picked out a matching thong and garter belt, added sheer stockings, and quickly wrapped them. Lily paid cash to speed things up, and scurried out of the store to find Dax mounting the steps toward it.

“Hope you’re okay with nine o’clock,” he said. “It was that or five thirty.”

“Nine sounds great. We can have a late lunch.”

“Get your panty hose?”

“I got what I needed.” She couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw her new lingerie. Lily gestured toward the clothing store. “What do you think of the blue and gold dress?”

He turned to look. “I like it. Try it on.”

Arm in arm, they entered the store. Lily found the dress in her size and went into a changing room. When she put it on, her breath caught. She looked so feminine and, well, sexy.

“How is it?” the saleswoman called. “Is the size right?”

“Perfect. But I need shoes. Size seven.”

“I’ll be right back.”

A couple of minutes later, Lily gazed at her feet in strappy gold sandals with four-inch heels. She’d never worn shoes like that, but the dress demanded them.

“Hey there.” This time it was Dax’s voice outside the door. “Do I get a look?”

She spun, lighthearted, loving how the dress belled out. “Not until tomorrow night.”

“Tease,” he said, humor in his voice.

Just wait until he found out about the garter belt and stockings. She wouldn’t say anything until they were eating, then she’d tell him. Maybe she’d raise the hem of her skirt and give him a peek.

“Do you have the right jewelry?” The saleswoman was back.

“I’m all set.” Her new pendant and matching earrings would suit the dress.

She slid off the shoes and unzipped the dress, reluctant to take off a garment that made her feel pretty. But even when she was back in her cable-knit sweater, jeans, and boots, she still felt attractive, with tousled hair, pink cheeks, and bright eyes. She felt healthy, happy, and hopeful. “Three very good H’s,” she murmured.

Back outside, she slipped her hand into Dax’s. “This was a good idea, coming to Whistler. Now what? Groceries?”

“Sure. If we’re eating by the fire tonight, how about a picnic?”

“Picnic?”

“Yeah. Whatever appeals to us. Fresh-baked French bread and blue cheese.”

Like they used to do when they were young. “Yum. Greek olives, Brie, grapes.”

“Salami.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You can have the salami. I’ll take, hmm, maybe rosemary ham.”

“Barbecued chicken.”

“I’m with you there. And wine, of course.”

“White or red?”

She mused. “How about pink and bubbly?”

His eyebrows went up. “Since when do you drink pink bubbly?”

“We’re not doing the usual things, are we?” With a smug grin, she thought of her new dress and lacy lingerie.

“Pink bubbly it is.”

“I’m getting hungry. This is why people get fat over the holidays. Too much food and not enough exercise.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem for you. You’re really slim and toned. All that running?”

“I’ve been doing self-defense classes too.”

“Self defense is a great idea.” He winked. “Think you can take me?”

“If I caught you off guard.” Cheerfully, she added, “I could gouge out your eyeballs too.”

He winced. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

* * *

Dusk fell early, making Whistler Village’s holiday lights and decorations even more festive and magical. The temperature dropped sharply, and they speeded their pace, leaving the Village and turning onto the trail, which was lit with a ski resort version of streetlights. Their boots crunched and squeaked against the snowy path, loud in the still night, and the chill seeped through Lily’s coat and sweater. “I’m so not a cold-weather girl.”

“If you lived in a place like this, you’d have the clothes for it.”

“Says you, who’s never been cold in your life.” At least she’d never heard him admit to it, and whenever she touched him he gave off heat.

As they approached their rented cabin, Lily saw that Dax had left the outside light on, and their gingerbread house looked welcoming. He opened the door and they dumped their bags on the bench in the mudroom while they shed shoes and coats. Then they stepped into the living room and yes, it was blissfully warm.

“I’ll get a fire going,” Dax said.

“I’ll put away the groceries.” She shivered, far from warmed up yet.

“I can do that. Go take a shower or bath.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said gratefully. Toting her shopping bag, she headed upstairs.

In a couple of minutes, she was in the shower, hot water streaming over her and penetrating into chilled muscles. What a lovely afternoon it had been, like the early days when it was so easy and fun to be with Dax. Humming, she looked forward to their picnic—and hopefully the second act of the “to be continued” kiss they’d enjoyed earlier.

Warm and dry, she contemplated her clothing choices. Tonight, she wouldn’t wear same-old, same-old. Deciding that the rose-colored sweater would be perfect for tomorrow morning, she fingered the delicate silk of Kim’s butterfly blouse. It was almost gauzy, which made the blue– and green-shaded butterflies with their gold veining stand out beautifully. She’d have to wear something under it. Fortunately, Dax had packed the powder-blue tank George had given her, and her black yoga pants.

Once dressed, she added brown mascara and a whisper of blue eye makeup. Her mom might think she looked frivolous, but Lily didn’t give a damn. Dax would approve.

On slippered feet, she hurried downstairs. Sounds met her: the crackle of burning wood, Savage Garden singing “I Knew I Loved You.” She smelled a hint of wood smoke and a rich, spicy, alcoholic scent. Dax had turned the lights off, so the room was lit only by the blazing fire.

He crouched beside it, poking at the logs. He still wore jeans but had taken off the heavy sweater he’d worn earlier. A black tee with a stylized helicopter on the back stretched across his powerful shoulders.

“Savage Garden?” she asked. They’d listened to the Australian duo in their early years together.

“From the owners’ stack of CDs.” He rose and turned to her. “Wow, look at you. You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He glanced down at himself. “And I’m seriously underdressed.”

She shook her head. “You look gorgeous too.” Dax was so striking, he couldn’t not look great, and the faded jeans and tee with “Born to Fly” across his chest suited him.

He took two mugs from the stone hearth and handed her one. “Hot rum toddies.”

The scent was heavenly: rum, lemon, cinnamon, and a hint of something else, maybe nutmeg. She breathed it in then took a cautious sip. The bite of alcohol, the sweet-sour mix of lemon and honey, and the richness of spice. “Mmm, nice.”

“How’s it compare to your usual martini?”

“Suits the place, the day. See, I can be flexible.” She took another swallow, feeling the heat and the alcohol slipping down the center of her body. Contentedly, she sank to the large braided rug. “Good job with the fire.”

Dax joined her, his own mug in hand. “I like fires. When I’m not staying on-site, like at the mining camp, I always try to rent a place that has one.”

“A real fire, not gas.”

“Gas is easier, but it doesn’t compare.”

“It really doesn’t.” Sipping her toddy, she studied his profile as he gazed into the flames. “What do you do in the evenings when you’re out in the bush?”

“Read, mostly. The days are demanding. It’s good to sit back and do nothing for a couple of hours. Sometimes I get together with some of the other folks, play cards or watch a game on TV. Go to bed early, get up early.” He stretched his shoulders. “When I have time off during daylight hours, I hike around and explore.”

“You don’t get tired of being out in the wilderness? I mean, I know you love it, but . . .” But couldn’t he see any virtue to life in the city—a life with her and their children?

“There are things I miss. Like gourmet takeout.” He studied her face, then took a long swallow of his drink and put his mug on the coffee table. “And you. Wilderness, a fire, and you with me—that’d be pretty much my idea of heaven.”

She suppressed a sigh. As he knew, while she liked the outdoors, she felt at home in the city. Still, today was great: a blend of spectacular scenery and city amenities, not to mention the dancing fire and the unaccustomed hot rum drink. And Dax. “This,” she said softly. “This, right now, is pretty much my idea of heaven.”

His gray eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “It’s a fine start.” He touched her hair, framed one side of her face with his hand, and leaned toward her. “My beautiful wife.” His lips touched hers before she could reply.

It was just a quick brush of lips, and then he pulled away. “Finish your drink so we can do that some more.”

She obliged, draining the last mouthful of lemony, spicy rum, and put her empty mug next to his. “More, please. I want more kissing.”

This time, when his lips touched hers, there was no pulling away. She closed her eyes, giving herself over to the kiss. Their tongues met. He tasted of rum and spice, heady and seductive. She must as well. This time, she didn’t want some sex game that pushed the bounds, she wanted only to join with her husband. Right here, in front of the fire.

He nibbled her lip; she nipped him back. Laughing, their mouths separated as they drew breath. He kissed the corner of her mouth then trailed kisses across her jaw and down her neck. She arched for him and slid her fingers through his thick hair. His lips and short beard brushed sensitive skin, sending arousal quivering through her.

She steered his head upward so she could kiss him again, and flicked her tongue into his mouth. So good, kissing Dax. She could do it forever, except that those kisses resonated through her whole body, pricking her nipples to tightness, making her sex clench and moisten. She moaned, low in her throat.