Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)(44)



He opened the refrigerator and didn’t find any food, but the cupboards were full of canned and packaged goods. He looked in the freezer and was surprised to find it full of casseroles, each labeled and dated. Most of them had been made within the past couple of months. The mayor hadn’t been kidding when she told Noelle it was kept stocked.

He pulled out a couple of casseroles and took the lids off so they could start to thaw. There was a small microwave on the counter, but that would only last as long as they had electricity. He was impressed it was still going, but had a bad feeling about it lasting much longer.

He checked drawers and under the sink. In a small alcove by the front door he found lanterns, both gas and electric. He set the latter to charging, then found two more by the bed and plugged them in.

The stove was wood, which was both good and bad. They could always cook, assuming either of them figured out how to use a woodstove. The closest he’d ever come had been roasting marshmallows on a camp-out. He glanced at Noelle, who sat huddled in her blankets, her eyes closed. She didn’t strike him as much of an outdoor girl.

There was more color in her face and she was shivering less. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Foolish. I’m sorry we’re stuck out here. I guess I cared too much about the window contest.”

“You’re not giving up,” he told her.

“We’re stuck in a snow storm. It’s Sunday. Even if we get out tomorrow, that doesn’t give us much time. And if we’re here until Tuesday, there’s no way I can get anything done.”

“I thought you were the one who had faith. Aren’t we supposed to be having this adventure with joy in our hearts?”

“I’ll find my joy when I’m a little less cold.”

He walked over to the sofa and sat next to her. He pulled her close and ran his hands up and down her arms.

“Don’t give up. You’re the one who believes.” He kissed the top of her head.

The blankets smelled of cedar, while her hair had a floral scent. Probably from her shampoo. Even through the layers of blanket, he could feel the outline of her body. While he couldn’t see anything, he happened to know she was wearing very little. A fact that had a predictable effect on his blood flow.

She raised her head and looked at him. “I’m sorry I got you trapped in a cabin,” she said. “I know this isn’t your idea of fun.”

“A romantic cabin in the woods, where I’m alone with a beautiful woman? Yeah, you’re right. This sucks.”

She gave him a smile. “I appreciate the effort. You’re being really sweet. I should have thought this through. I should have—”

He didn’t know what she was going to say and he wasn’t sure he cared. What he didn’t like was her beating herself up over something that wasn’t important. He only knew one sure way to quiet her, so he lowered his head and pressed his mouth against hers.

Her lips were as soft as he remembered. Warm, which was good, considering how cold she’d been. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t pull back. As he leaned in, she parted her lips for him. At the same time she wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed.

He moved his tongue inside her mouth and was met by hers. Each sweet stroke was like throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire.

With her arms around him, there was nothing holding up the blankets, which meant they fell and settled around her waist. The siren call of bare skin was too great, he thought. He couldn’t resist knowing what it felt like to move his hands up and down her back.

He danced his fingers along her spine and over her bra strap. He lightly traced her shoulders, then slipped down her sides.

She tilted her head and shifted her torso in what could only be called an invitation. It would take a much more morally strong man than himself to resist. He eased his hand from her side to her rib cage, then up to her breast. He cupped the curve, feeling the silky softness of her bra and tight bud that was her nipple.

As he ran his thumb back and forth across the sensitive tip, Noelle pulled back. Her blue eyes were darker, her mouth parted and swollen from their kisses. She reached for his other hand and brought it to her breast, then held his palms against her.

He’d been with women before—lots of women. He’d been seduced and done the seducing. But this was different. He didn’t know if it was the damn cabin or that he was back in the civilian world or something about Noelle. He wanted her with a heat that stole his will. At the same time, he wasn’t going to push, wasn’t going to take. Wasn’t going to hurt her in any way. He’d seen her happy and he’d seen her broken and he never wanted her to be in pieces again.

He’d told her he wasn’t staying, that while he believed in love, he wanted no part of it. If she was willing to accept that, then the choice had to be hers. And gratitude for what she probably saw as saving her life wasn’t the same as making an informed decision.

Reluctantly, painfully, he drew back. He allowed himself a brief image of her straddling him, letting him fill her as she rode him, his fingers between her legs, rubbing her until they were both lost to the moment. Then he drew the blankets back up around her shoulders and forced himself to look away.

* * *

“Still the gentleman?” Noelle asked lightly, her body tingling from a combination of warming and Gabriel’s touch.

Susan Mallery's Books