Jill Shalvis - Small Town Christmas

She opened her mouth to tell him that she did, in spite of herself, she really did trust him, but he’d produced a condom and slid home and what came out was an erotic, sensual cry.

His attention was on her body, his gaze heating every inch of her skin as he trailed his fingers in a line from her breasts to her legs, which he wrapped around his hips. He slid in deep, and with a rough groan, dropped to his elbows so that he covered her completely. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and then his lips were on hers as he began to move.

She lost herself in the delicious, overwhelming sensations, unable to think or even remember the reasons she’d hesitated to let him love her again like this. His arms slid beneath her, pulling her even closer to him, plunging deep, then deeper still, until she burst. He went over the edge with her, pulsing inside her until they collapsed together, spent.

Afterward, he carried her to her bed and started over…

Much later, she snuggled in against him and everything was forgotten as she fell asleep. She awoke to the sun poking her in the eyes and panicked. It was eight o’clock on Christmas morning! She was supposed to be at the diner for the breakfast buffet. Everyone in town was coming and she was in charge. She tried to jump out of bed but found she couldn’t.

Because a very warm, tousled, leanly muscled man had her wrapped up tight in his arms. “Got to go!” she said, and kissed him on the jaw before shimmying loose.

He rolled over to catch her, but she was too fast, making quick work of pulling on jeans and a sweater. “I’m late!”

“It’s Christmas,” he said in a rough morning voice, and sexy as hell.

“Exactly!” She shoved her feet into boots, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door, but something bright nearly blinded her.

Her necklace.

She looked down at it, then at the naked man sprawled in her bed. “Thanks for last night.”

“And this morning?” he asked in that husky male morning voice that made her tremble.

They’d dozed and woken each other up somewhere around three a.m. to tear up her sheets again. Her thighs rubbed together, and she felt the slight sting of the whisker burn there. Her face heated. “That too.”

“I wanted to talk to you last night,” he said, rolling off the bed and coming toward her, completely unconcerned about his nudity.

And if she were him and looked that good, she’d be unconcerned too. “It’s okay,” she said, and patted his chest. “I understand now. We’re… explosive. I couldn’t resist you, and vice versa. No regrets, Logan.” And with a soft kiss, she left him alone.

And if maybe she shed a tear or two in the car on the way to the diner, well, no one had to know but her.

She arrived just in time. She jumped behind the counter to help the owner, Jan, and her waitress, Amy, serve the crowd. And it was a big crowd. Everyone was inhaling stacks of pancakes and eggs, and bacon and sausage, when suddenly the low level of mayhem ceased altogether as the diner door opened.

Sandy looked up just as Logan strode in.

The squeals of delight were genuine and real. The residents of Lucky Harbor had fallen in love with Logan on his first visit, all those months ago. Logan smiled but moved through the crowd, heading straight for Sandy. “Hope you don’t mind if I steal Sandy away for a second,” he said.

Sandy told herself to be brave, but she wasn’t feeling brave. She stood there in a bright red apron, a serving spoon in one hand and a coffee carafe in the other, and shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I’m busy.”

Logan looked at her for a long beat. He took the spoon from her hand and set it down, then did the same with the coffee. He cupped her face. “I’ve been trying to tell you something. But I’ll do it right here if I have to.”

Oh, God. He was going to end things now. She wasn’t ready. Maybe tomorrow she’d be ready. “No, that’s not necessary-”

“I know you thought this was just a fling. Hell, I thought this was just a fling. I wanted it to be. I wasn’t looking for this, and I sure as hell never wanted you to get hurt.”

Someone in the crowd “ahhed” at that.

Logan ignored it. “But there’s something about you, Sandy. Something that I just can’t get enough of. That was proven when I left here and thought of nothing but you.”

“You raced every weekend,” she murmured, trying not to think about their audience. “You were too busy to think of me.”

“Believe me, I had room to think of you no matter what I was doing. Just don’t tell my team. That sort of thing is frowned upon since it tends to get people killed.” He flashed a grin. “I would fly you out every weekend to ensure my safety, if you’d let me.”

Her heart felt instantly lightened, and now butterflies were bouncing off the walls of her stomach. The good kind of butterflies. “Oh my God.”

“Tell him you love him back!” someone yelled.

“Hurry, before he changes his mind!” someone else called out.

“How about hurry, my eggs are getting cold?” a third party griped.

Logan never took his eyes off Sandy. “I don’t want anyone’s eggs to get cold. Let’s speed this up.” He handed her the basket. “They’re peach muffins. Because apparently no one likes fruitcake.”

“What?”

He sighed and pulled out the muffins. Beneath, nestled in the bottom of the basket, was another Tiffany box, this one smaller than the first.

A ring box.

Her mouth fell open, and she slowly reached into the basket. Her fingers were shaking so badly that Logan took over and opened the box, revealing the diamond ring he’d picked out for her.

“There is no other woman for me,” he said. “You’re it, Sandy Jansen. You’re warm and sweet and kind and funny, and you make me feel like I’m more than just a good driver. You make me feel… everything.” He removed the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. “I love you,” he told her. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. I want you to marry me, even though you drive like a crazy person.”

There was a collective “ohmigod” around them, but Sandy paid them no mind. She stared at the ring, then up into his face, clearly stunned. “You do? Really?”

He was going to work on that, on making sure she never doubted or wondered how he felt. Ever. “I do.” He loved the dreamy look in her eyes, but she hadn’t said anything, and he was starting to feel a little bit like he was out in public without a stitch of clothing. He slid a look at their avid audience, then leaned in closer. “This is the part where maybe you could say you want me, too. I’ve kinda got my ass hanging out here. Say yes, and I’ll throw in the BMW. You know you love that thing as much as you love me.”

“Hey.” A little kid tapped Logan on the arm. “You look a lot like Santa.”

Sandy choked out a laugh and covered her mouth.

Logan looked down at the kid. “Santa already came this year. Did you get what you wanted?”

“Yeah,” the kid said, waving a handheld game. “Did you?”

“I don’t know.” Logan looked at Sandy. “Did I?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and threw herself at him. “You got everything you ever wanted. Forever.”

“Does this mean you love me, too?”

“It means I love you. With or without the BMW.” She waited a beat, grinning up at him mischievously. “But with is better.”

Baby Jesus wailed loud enough to be heard in the next county. His floodlit manger rocked back and forth while a group of gaily painted plaster wisemen looked on. Staff Sergeant Matt Jasper took a few hesitant steps toward the crèche and wondered if PTSD had finally found him. He peeked into the wobbling manger.