I can’t believe I almost kissed him.
Through dinner at Josie’s, Alex tried to keep her mind in the moment, to concentrate on the conversation, stay firmly in the now.
But she kept drifting away into some dreamy fantasyland where it was just her and West minus their clothes in a nice, big bed. She couldn’t stop thinking about that moment when she’d looked up into his eyes—and the world just stopped. At that moment, she couldn’t breathe. She’d almost reached for him.
If West’s phone hadn’t buzzed, she would have kissed him. And judging by that scorching hot look in his eyes, he would have kissed her back. After that, well, she had a very strong feeling they wouldn’t have stopped with just that one kiss.
Because no matter how hard she tried to remember that it would be foolish in the extreme to end up in his arms again, she hadn’t forgotten how great it was with him. Weston Wright, by his own admission, might be a bad bet as a boyfriend. But the man knew how to treat a woman when he had her in his bed.
Not that it mattered.
It didn’t. Uh-uh. Not to her. It wasn’t going to happen again. She needed not even to let herself consider that it might happen again. Where could it go but somewhere difficult and awkward? She didn’t want a relationship and neither did he.
And that could be good, right? whispered a naughty voice inside her head. They could enjoy each other for Thanksgiving and Christmas and then just walk away.
But wait. It would be far too easy to slip up. Someone in the family would probably find out...
Well, so what? Maybe they would all just mind their own business.
Yeah, and Santa really did come down the chimney every Christmas Eve.
Their one-night stand had hurt no one. He’d needed it and she’d loved it—not only the great sex, but also the honesty, the connection. She’d loved all of it. And the next morning they’d both used good sense and walked away.
Getting into it with each other again? That would be tempting fate, pure and simple.
After dinner, Ernesto suggested a poker game over at Auntie M’s. The men and Auntie M took him up on it. Everyone else hung out at Josie’s until midnight. They streamed a couple of Disney movies, ate popcorn and drank hot cider. When the twins conked out, the women, including Ashley and Hazel, watched a Hallmark Christmas movie. Around midnight, the party broke up.
Alex drove back to Wild Rose. When she parked her Audi beside the cottage, West’s rental car was already there in the space next to hers. The tree looked gorgeous and welcoming in the front window.
She paused at the foot of the steps. With the snow coming down, a wreath on the door and that tree in the window, the little house was the perfect Christmas cottage. It looked nothing short of magical.
Inside, though, the rooms were dark. West’s bedroom door stood open. Nobody home.
Alex took a quick shower and went to bed. Around two, she heard him come in. She almost tossed back the covers and ran out into the main room to...
What, exactly?
Ask him if he would like some Sleepyhead Tea?
Or grab him and kiss him and drag him back to her room?
Nope. No way. Not going to happen.
She had to stop thinking about it and try her best to avoid him. Yeah, fine. They were roomies in a small cottage, sharing a bathroom the size of a postage stamp, mutually prone to getting up in the middle of the night and hanging around in the kitchen together.
But staying away from him could be done. And by God, she would do it.
He helped by being gone when she got up at nine Saturday morning. She ate a light breakfast alone. That afternoon, she and her sisters took the kids to Heartwood Holiday Market right there in town at Heartwood Brewery. Local farmers and crafters filled the top floor of the big, modern brewery and sold Christmas crafts and holiday treats.
That night, Easton, West and their dad drove into town for burgers and beers. Payton had Alex and Josie over for dinner, a sisters’ night in. Miles was looking after Davy. Joyce had the twins in the motor home for a sleepover.
Josie talked about having more kids. “At least two. We’ll adopt one and maybe try for one more pregnancy.”
Payton groaned and rubbed her big belly. “Adoption. Why didn’t we think of that?”
Josie chuckled. “Because making them is fun?”
Payton turned to Alex. “What about you, big sister? You used to talk about having kids.”
“Not for several years, I haven’t.” She took a slow sip of the delicious red wine Payton had served with dinner. “Not since I divorced Devon, anyway...”
“Devon Tate.” Payton snort-laughed. “There’s a blast from the past.”
“What a dog,” muttered Josie. Alex and Payton nodded in agreement.
Devon had not only cheated, but he’d also made passes at both Josie and Payton during the one time Alex had brought him home to the farm. Her sisters had spoken to her separately. They were both miserable to have to tell her such a thing about the man she’d married.
When Alex confronted him for putting moves on her sisters, he’d called them a couple of lying bitches and stormed out. She’d known then that it was over and started sleeping on the couch. A couple of weeks later, she came home early and caught him in their bed with someone else.
That did it. She’d moved out of their apartment and filed for divorce.
“As for kids,” said Alex, “I don’t know. I really don’t. I admit I’m thinking it about it, though—especially in the past week, after I walked out of KJ&T.”
“You’d be a great mom,” said Payton.
Josie nodded. “Yes, you would.”
Payton said, “And I keep meaning to ask how it’s working out, being roomies with Weston?”
Alex was ready for that one. “It’s good. He’s easygoing, helpful. Picks up after himself. He’s great with children...”
Were her sisters looking at her strangely?
Nah. She was just being paranoid. Nobody knew that she couldn’t stop thinking of jumping her sister’s husband’s brother—again.
Like the night before, he wasn’t there when she got back to the guest cottage. And that was good—wonderful. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and was all tucked in bed with Payton’s first book when she heard him come in. She stayed tucked in bed.
All through that night.
In the morning, she woke to the smell of coffee.
West tapped on her door. When she stuck her head out, he asked, “Want some eggs? I’m cooking.”
Oh, what the hell? “Scrambled. Wheat toast.”
“Done.”
She pulled on some clothes, turned on the tree lights and set the table. They ended up drinking way too many cups of coffee as they brainstormed her options for a new career.
It was so much fun, sitting across from him, debating the merits of journalism versus becoming a mediator—in the court system or the private sector. She could try marketing or consulting.
“The possibilities are endless,” he said. “You could become a CFO, just like me.”
“I’ll drink to that.” She got up and poured them each more coffee.
By eleven o’clock, when Payton texted her to come out to the event barn and help with the final preparations for Kyle and Olga’s wedding that night, Alex had concluded that she really had no reason to keep avoiding West. They’d been sharing the cottage since Wednesday and he’d yet to make a single move—because that almost-kiss Friday night? It hadn’t happened, so it didn’t count.
Nothing was going to happen. They both knew better than to start that kind of trouble. And he would be out of here tomorrow, on his way back to Seattle.
“Payton wants my help with the wedding tonight,” she said as she stuck her phone back in her pocket.
“Go ahead,” said West. “I’ll clean up the kitchen.”
Not only was the man way too hot and fun to hang with, but he also cooked and cleaned up after himself, too. If he ever got over his aversion to lasting relationships, some woman someday was going to get really lucky.
“Thank you,” she said. “For breakfast, for the career brainstorming and for doing the dishes.”
“No problem. I needed to remind you what a great roomie I am. Christmas is coming. I can’t have you suddenly deciding you need this cottage all to yourself. I could end up in the motor home with my parents. I can’t do that again. After last time, I’m already scarred for life.”
“No worries,” she promised. “You’ll always have the back bedroom here.”
The bride, Olga Balanchuk, had hired a wedding planner. That made everything easier. The wedding planner had staff who would set up and serve.
But Kyle Huckston, the groom, was a close family friend. If help was needed on Wild Rose or Halstead Farm, the Huckstons were the first to show up and get to work. In appreciation for all the years of friendship and support, Payton and Josie wanted to add a few extra touches to Kyle and Olga’s wedding.
They’d rented beaded crystal chandeliers—a dozen of them, to hang from the rafters and light up the wintry night. They’d draped yards and yards of glimmer illusion tulle overhead, too. Twinkle lights were everywhere, spilling down the walls, woven in and out of all that glittery tulle.
Alex worked alongside her sisters and the wedding planner’s crew until three thirty, when she returned to the guest cottage to get ready for the wedding ceremony at five.
West wasn’t there, which was great. She had the small house all to herself. She could run back and forth from the bathroom to the bedroom in her underwear without giving West the wrong signal.
When she returned to the barn, most of the guests had already arrived and taken their seats. She found an empty chair in the second-to-last row between Delia Morton, who owned a restaurant in town, and Rafe Jenks, who had been working with Miles at Halstead Farm for as long as Alex could remember. She and Rafe exchanged greetings and then Delia started talking—about how gorgeous the barn looked, so romantic and magical.
“And isn’t the music just splendid?” Delia rattled right on without waiting for an answer. “That’s Payton’s doing, right?” Payton was endlessly creative. Not only did she write bestselling stories, she played guitar and knew all the local musicians. She’d gone to high school with the wedding’s pianist and she used to sit in with the band that would play during the reception. “And I have to say, your sister looks like she might pop that baby out any minute now, doesn’t she?”
“Delia, she’s not due until mid-January.”
“Well, you coulda fooled me. And she does have that glow. So romantic, the way she and her husband found each other after all those years apart...”
There was more. About Josie and Miles. “The perfect match, those two. I’m surprised they didn’t get together long ago—and yes, I realize he was married before and he is a bit older than Josie. So I have to admit, there’s really no way they could have gotten together much sooner than they did. I’m just so glad they’ve found each other at last.”
Next, she quizzed Alex about her life in Portland—as always, never pausing long enough to get an answer to any of her questions. “You are such a go-getter, Alexandra. Really just nothing short of admirable. But what about love, honey? Someone special in your life? It’s a challenge, I’m sure, balancing a demanding career and a meaningful relationship, but it can be done and I do believe it’s very much worth the effort...”
At least she shut up when the pianist switched from light prelude music to Pachelbel’s Canon in D. Even Delia Morton fell reverently silent for that.
It was beautiful, that ceremony. Mostly because Kyle was the happiest man alive and Olga looked like a Norse princess in her cream-colored boho wedding dress, carrying a glorious bridal bouquet of pampas grass, eucalyptus leaves and roses in the colors of fall—burnt orange, mustard yellow and terra-cotta red.
By the time the groom kissed the bride, there was hardly a dry eye in the barn. Alex didn’t often get emotional at weddings, but the sheer happiness radiating from both Olga and Kyle just might have made her mascara run—a little.
Next came the meal, a buffet set up on the other side of the barn. The wedding planner’s crew got to work clearing the chairs on the ceremony side for the dancing later. A server circulated with flutes of sparkling wine—the good stuff, Mumm Napa. Alex took one and savored her first sip.
Several feet away, on the far side of the buffet table, West stood chatting with a pretty blonde woman Alex didn’t recognize. The woman laughed, throwing her head back, as if West had just said something hysterically funny. Alex took another sip of bubbly—a bigger one this time.
As she lowered the half-empty flute, West just happened to glance her way. He gave her that wry smile of his and raised his flute to her. She saluted him back. The unknown woman reached out and brushed his sleeve to regain his attention. Alex looked away and sipped more sparkling deliciousness.
Really, she needed to pace herself with the bubbly wine. The night was young.
She mingled, catching up with old school friends, most of whom were married now, some with kids in their early teens. In a way, it made her feel a little sad. She’d walked out on her big-time career and Delia Morton was right. She’d never found what Josie had with Miles, what Payton and Easton shared.
But hey. She wasn’t dead yet. Love could still find her. Consider Auntie M, widowed for years and years. And then, finally, she’d allowed herself to take a chance on Ernesto.
Alex looked down. Her champagne glass was empty. She set it on the tray of a passing server and went to get something to eat before grabbing another.
And as for finding love, maybe she did need to be more open to the possibility that there actually might be someone out there for her. Maybe she needed to stop telling herself that men were nothing but trouble—oh, and get a puppy.
Yes. A full-time commitment to another living being. That would be a nice start. Finding a man could wait until she’d at least figured out what to do with the rest of her life.
She ate with Josie and Miles, baby Davy and their girls. Ashley had brought her boyfriend, Chase, who was almost as handsome as Ashley was beautiful. Chase clearly had it bad for Ashley. The two of them were adorable together, holding hands under the table, sharing tender glances, but still putting in the effort to make nice with the family.
After dinner, Alex allowed herself another flute of bubbly. She had cake and coffee. And another sparkling wine when the dancing started—kicked off by the bride and groom letting it all hang out to Ed Sheeran’s “Put It All on Me.”
By nine or so, parents had corralled their kids and whisked them off to bed. Alex danced with Myron Wright and the groom. She was standing on the sidelines enjoying the music when someone spoke from behind her.
“Alex?” She turned. Aaron Black, whom she’d dated briefly in high school, held out his hand. “You look ah-mazing. Dance with me?” She hesitated. She and Aaron had not parted on good terms. “Aw, c’mon, Alex. It’s been years...”
Against her better judgment, she let him lead her out on the floor. She should have at least waited for a fast song. As they danced, she learned he was on his second divorce and as handsy and brash as ever. His fingers strayed below her waist. She pulled back twice and reminded him that he’d better behave, or else.
“Sorry. You’re just irresistible.”
“And you are pushing it. Stop.”
For the next couple of minutes, he kept his hands where they belonged. The dance was almost finished. She couldn’t wait to get away from him. The song finally faded off.
And there was West, tapping on Aaron’s shoulder. Aaron had a look like he might actually attempt to hold her captive for the next dance.
Alex shrugged free of his grip and reached gratefully for West. “There you are.” She blasted him a giant smile as the next song began. He danced her away from Aaron.
“Who was that tool?” he asked in her ear.
Had he been watching her? She breathed in the scent of him and decided that she liked the idea of him looking out for her. She liked it so much!
“His name’s Aaron Black,” she said. “I went to high school with him. We went on two dates. The first was okay. The second date, not so much. The guy was an octopus with the hands. I lectured him on the meaning of the word no and refused to go out with him again.”
“Apparently, he’s a slow learner.”
“Sadly, you may be right.” She really wanted to ask about the pretty woman at the buffet table. But she knew she shouldn’t—and then she did it anyway. “For a minute there, I thought you’d met someone.”
He frowned down at her. “Met someone, how?”
Too late to back out now. “The pretty blonde woman you were talking to before dinner.”
“Oh, yeah.” He smirked. “Jealous?”
“West,” she chided, “that’s not who we are.”
“Right.” He seemed to be trying not to grin. “She seemed like a nice woman.”
“Just nice? She looked really interested to me.”
“You are jealous.”
She scoffed. Loudly. “Dream on.”
When the dance ended, he took hold of her hand. She laced her fingers with his. They got more wine, hung out with Auntie M and Ernesto for a while, danced some more.
Now, with West beside her, the night seemed full of promise. The twinkle lights and chandeliers overhead shone brighter than before. At midnight, the bride threw her fabulous bouquet. The pretty blonde who’d flirted with West at the beginning of the evening caught it. Kyle and Olga rode off in a carriage drawn by two white horses.
Inside the barn, the party continued. The sparkling wine flowed freely. Alex enjoyed it all—the party and the wine. West seemed to be having a pretty good time, too.
By one, Alex’s sisters and their husbands had left the party. Auntie M and Ernesto, too. Myron and Joyce had headed back to their motor home.
Alex excused herself to use the new, larger ladies’ room on the back side of the event barn. She’d had the restrooms expanded and upgraded last summer, along with putting in an HVAC system, paving the dirt driveway from the barn to the main road and adding a coatroom in front.
As she washed her hands, reapplied lip gloss and finger-combed her hair, she grinned at herself in the pretty gold-framed mirror. She was having the best night ever.
And she’d just had a fabulous idea.
“Champagne courage.” She clucked her tongue at herself in the mirror, keeping her voice low even though nobody else was in the restroom right then. “You really shouldn’t. You need to behave...”
But then she found West waiting right there outside the door when she left the ladies’ room. He looked exactly like her favorite forbidden secret fantasy.
She took his hand. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
She moved in close and pressed herself shamelessly right up against him. He felt so good—hard and broad and all man. Leaning up, she whispered in his ear, “Time to go.”
“But where?”
“Back to the guest cottage—and don’t look so puzzled. It’s a wedding.”
“Well, yeah...”
“Are you saying you don’t remember what we do after a wedding?”
Those blue eyes got even bluer and that mouth of his curled up at one corner. “Alex. Are you sure?”
“Do I look uncertain?” Still on tiptoe, she breathed the words against his lips. “Because I’m not.”
A low huff of breath escaped him—like a bull about to charge. The sound sent shivers ricocheting all through her. His mouth met hers.
Oh, that kiss. It started out cautious, carefully restrained, as though he wanted to kiss her hard and deep, but he just wasn’t sure.
She made it her mission to wipe every doubt from his mind. When his tongue tempted hers, she didn’t hesitate. She twined her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, sliding her tongue past his parted lips, drinking in that groan of his that told her everything she needed to know. His arms banded tighter as she melted against him.
When he lifted his head, his eyes had gone feral. “Let’s go, then.” Three simple words. But the way he said them—all rough and hungry, impatient and maybe a little bit angry. Like he hadn’t meant to do this.
But he just couldn’t stop himself.
She got that. She did. She felt the same way.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the barn doors.