White-Hot Holiday(18)

Aaron clasped her hands and drew them away from her face. The steadiness of his grip flowed into her, and the teetering panic ebbed slightly.

“I’m not asking you to uproot yourself.” He massaged the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “I know your family is important to you, that your teaching career means a lot to you, and we’ve only just met. But you don’t feel at all like a stranger to me. When we’re together, it feels so good and right. I can talk about anything to you, things I’d never discuss with anyone, let alone someone I’d only met last week. I love being with you, and you’re important—very important—to me.” Round and round his thumb pads circled on her skin, sending waves of pleasure through her. “When I kiss you, I never want to stop, and I will never forget how it feels to kiss you, even if—heaven forbid—I never get to kiss you again.”

She drank in his words, mesmerized by them as much as his caressing hands and his earnest gaze. He drew her closer until the heat of his chest penetrated the thin cotton of her tank top. Through the haze of her agitation, she thought he was going to kiss her. In fact, she could see the hunger burning in his eyes, could sense her own need leaping to reciprocate, but he held himself back, and she realized he was waiting for her response. Instead of overwhelming her with passion, he wanted her informed consent. His restraint heightened her emotions. This volcanic tenderness she had for Aaronit felt shockingly like love, but how could she fall in love with a man she’d met a week ago?

She pressed her hands against his chest to feel the quick beat of his heart. She didn’t know the answer to her question. All she knew was that he had changed her life forever, and she could no longer resist him.

“I don’t want you to forget me.” She slid her hands farther up his shirt. “Let’s make sure you don’t.”

He curled one arm around her waist before his mouth slanted over hers in a deep, long kiss that shattered the remnants of her control. Aaron kissed her with a fierce hunger, his hands coasting over her body, echoing his desire. Eventually he lifted his head and eased her slightly away from her, though his hands remained locked around her hips. His eyes were dark and beautiful and drugged with need, and his lips were so lush they took her breath away. At that moment he was divinely perfect, and if he had carried her off to his bed, she wouldn’t have murmured a protest.

But though he must have sensed her need, Aaron didn’t press his advantage. Using one finger, he smoothed back her hair that had tumbled over her eyes. “I won’t forget,” he said solemnly. “I promise.”

He said that now, but what would happen when he returned to New York and fell into the rhythm of his normal life? In the hustle and bustle of his demanding career, with all the temptations of New York to distract him, wouldn’t it be natural for his memories of her to be pushed to the edges, to fade with the passing of time?

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She stepped back from him, and his hands fell to his sides.

“I’m not.” His square chin lifted. “And I don’t expect any promises from you, either. That ticket is yours. Use it or not, it’s up to you, but know that I would be absolutely stoked if you did decide to visit me.”

Chewing her lip, she picked up the fallen plane ticket. First class to New York. That would have cost plenty, but Aaron was so generous, so loving Her heart constricted. She was more than halfway to falling in love with him. Using the ticket would seal her fate. Could she risk that again? Could she survive if Aaron shattered her heart?

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, overcome with equal parts fear and desire. “It all seems so impossible.”

He cupped her cheek. “Nothing’s impossible if you put your mind to it.”

Aaron enclosed her with his arms, but his touch only intensified the unease dipping and rolling inside her. It was so tempting to be swept up by his words and the magic of the moment, but she couldn’t afford to be that trusting in fate anymore.

“I want to believe that, I really do.” She swallowed, holding herself rigid. How she wanted to snuggle into Aaron, make these last moments alone with him special and memorable. But the past nagged at her like a toothache. “But it’s not really true, is it? I mean, it’d be impossible for me to become President of the United States no matter how much I put my mind to it.”

He blinked at her. “Honey, I’m not asking you to become President, though you’d definitely get my vote.”

His soft, teasing smile made her tremble all over. If she didn’t get away from him fast, God knows what she’d promise him. “It’s not fair.” Her voice shook. “It’s not fair of you to spring this on me at the last moment.”

“I haven’t had much warning either.” Concern furrowed his brow. “This ticket I bought you—it’s supposed to be a gift, not a liability.”

“I know, and I’m very grateful—” She gulped as emotion hiccupped out of her, tearing at her fragile composure. “But—but it’s a lot to think about, and I’m just not ready—” A car swept into the driveway outside, signaling the others had returned. Her moment of privacy with Aaron was about to end. With enormous effort she pulled herself free of his embrace and stepped back, feeling shaky, horribly vulnerable.

Aaron’s hands fell to his sides. For the first time, he looked truly bereft. A hot stone lodged in her chest.

“Well, whenever you’re ready” He shoved his hands into his pockets, the muscles in his throat working.

It’s not supposed to be like this. It’s not supposed to hurt this much, this soon.

Her throat constricted, too tight for speech. She nodded, and then, as the front door rattled, she turned and hurried away, her last impression of Aaron a stark figure gazing steadfastly after her.





Chapter Seven


Mecklenburg greeted Aaron with greeting-card perfection. A pristine layer of snow graced steeple-roofed churches and bare winter trees. Windows glowed, fairy lights twinkled, and children threw snowballs. A life-size reindeer family made of LED lights graced his parents’ front yard. On their white-painted front door hung an enormous green-and-red wreath. Aaron rapped on the door, stamping his feet against the biting cold. He heard the sound of hurrying footsteps, and then the door flew open, and his mother flung her arms around him.

“Oh, honey! I can’t believe it. Frank, Frank! Our boy is home.”

Yep, he was home, all right. His parents greeted him as if he’d returned from a mission to Mars. Tut-tutting over his lack of winter coat and boots, they ushered him into the living room, where they sat him by the fire and plied him with food, drink, and chatter. Aaron allowed them to fuss over him as he took in his childhood home with new appreciation. Everything was as it should be at this time of year—Douglas fir bursting with decorations, including his old salt dough initials, intricately iced gingerbread house on the sideboard, lights winking at the windows, eggnog and cookies on the table.

His chest tightened. For so long, the idea of Christmas had suffocated him. The zeal of his family had wearied him, made him cynical. Perhaps deep down he’d even felt a little excluded because he couldn’t match their enthusiasm. But now he saw what he’d been blind to all these years—it wasn’t about gifts or Santa or food or decorations. That was just the way his family expressed their feelings, their happiness in being together. And he hadn’t realized it. Until this year.

He pressed his lips together as his appreciation at being home swelled inside him.

His mother appeared to misinterpret his expression. “What’s the matter, dear? Is it the music? I know you wince whenever I put on my holiday songs.” She moved toward the iPod, which was cranking out Bing Crosby’s ubiquitous “White Christmas.”

“No, Mom. Don’t turn it off.” He smiled at her. “I like your music.”

“Well!” She blinked at him. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

He turned to his dad, gesturing at the Christmas tree. “Great tree, Dad. Did Ellie and Madison go with you to get it?”

“Uh, yes, they did.” His dad gave him a surprised smile. “They love coming with their old gramps.”

“I chopped down a Christmas tree myself in Australia.”

His dad stared. “By yourself?”

“Sure.” Aaron laughed. “I remembered everything you taught me, Dad.” He glanced at his mother, who was also looking gob-smacked. “So how was Christmas, Mom? Did you make your usual roast turkey with stuffing? Did Donna bring her famous apple pie? What did you get for Ellie and Madison?”

For a moment his mom appeared too bewildered to answer. “Well,” she said eventually. “We did have the usual turkey and apple pie, and the girls got Lego sets.”

“Sounds like you had a great time. I’m sorry I missed it.”

“You are? Oh, and we missed you so much, too. It just wasn’t the same without you.” The corners of her mouth pulled down, but then her expression brightened, and she leaned forward to press his sleeve. “But we can have Christmas again just for you tonight. Donna and Bill and the girls are coming over anyway. I’ve got a rib roast in the oven. I’ll whip out the decorations and set up the table and we’ll all wear our holiday sweaters.” She paused, her enthusiasm faltering as she glanced at him uncertainly. “If that’s okay with you? I mean, you must be exhausted after your long flight and driving up here, and I know you’re not a big fan of the whole Christmas-with-the-folks thing.”