A Christmas to Remember, page 16
part #8.50 of Lucky Harbor Series
Ginger’s eyes widened as if she’d never heard of such a thing. As if “organizational” was code for something else, but she nodded her head sagely. “Well, that’s real nice. Tell your folks I said hi.”
Monty loaded up the tree in the back of Linc’s truck. “You’re ready to go, and I threw in a bunch of mistletoe for luck.” With another wink aimed at Dinah, he added, “Ya’ll have a Merry Christmas now.” Then he scooted off to help another customer.
“I’ll get the tree up in its stand tonight,” Linc said. “Then it’ll be all ready to decorate by the time you get to the house tomorrow. Does that sound okay?”
“Sounds good. I have to get home anyway and bake cookies for a cookie exchange.” Dinah stopped by her car.
“Another one of your never-ending holiday activities?”
She smiled that sunny smile and his world tilted once more. It was all he could do not to walk over and pull her against his body, kiss her, finish what he’d almost started a few moments ago.
She got into her car. “If you’re nice I’ll bring you a cookie. Goodnight, Lincoln.”
Linc stood watching her taillights disappear down the road. Then he climbed into his truck and headed home. Instead of being annoyed with his mother, he thought about how much he’d enjoyed picking out a tree with Dinah. It felt domesticated, and couple-ish, and all the things that usually sent him running from a woman like his pants were on fire. Tonight, though, the idea hadn’t scared him the way it usually did, and he didn’t know what to make of the situation. He had to admit he found her awfully attractive. Hell, he’d almost kissed her in a very public place. Maybe it was just that he hadn’t gone out with anyone in a serious way that mattered for a long time.
But he couldn’t imagine getting involved with someone like Dinah. She was prim and precise, and she’d want to change everything about him. Regulate, smooth down, and even up every jagged corner of his life. He enjoyed his laid-back—and okay, messy—lifestyle just the way it was, and no cute blonde with green eyes and legs that went on forever was going to convince him he needed to change. No way, no how. Not in a million years. But he still caught himself humming “Jingle Bells” all the way home.
* * *
Dinah unlocked her front door and walked inside. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her purse on the floor where she stood. Lately, she found her orderly thoughts scattered in all directions, and Lincoln Jones was to blame. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. The man scrambled her brain, and when you were in her line of work a scrambled brain was a real disadvantage.
Goodness, she needed to pull herself together. She picked up her purse and placed it on the shelf by the front door designated for that purpose and then picked up her shoes and carried them into her bedroom, tucking them inside the closet. Putting on her slippers, she walked out to her kitchen and found a pasta dinner in the freezer.
She tapped her foot impatiently, watching her food turn around and around in the microwave. Lincoln had looked like a little kid when he found that tree. It was a great tree, too. Tall and splendid like the man who’d picked it out. Okay, maybe splendid was too poetic. But he was funny and opinionated and sexy as all get-out.
She was finding too much pleasure watching him while he worked. He was so intense, so focused, his concentration so complete, he didn’t have time for worrying about silly ideas like putting things in proper places.
With a dreamy sigh she wondered what it would feel like to have that concentration focused on her. If he ever really touched her she might shatter to a million pieces. Lordy, the simple brush of his hand against hers set her nerves to tingling. And tonight, for just a moment, when he’d looked deeply into her eyes at Ginger’s, she’d been able to imagine being wrapped in his arms, his mouth crashing down on hers. But the moment passed, thankfully, before she embarrassed herself. Gad, she’d been on the verge of grabbing him and kissing the living stuffing out of him. She really needed to get a hold of herself. This job was too important. A little decorum was in order. Tomorrow she promised herself to act professionally at all times. Mooning over Lincoln was officially forbidden. At least during working hours.
Chapter Three
Linc hated spiders. Give him a snake, or a rat, or a charging lion, and he’d be just fine. But an itty-bitty spider turned his spine to jelly. He shuddered as he crawled farther into the attic. He hadn’t seen any spiders. Not yet, anyway, but there was plenty of evidence that they were up there lurking. Spiderwebs stretched across the low beams, grabbing at his face and hair. He batted them away and moved forward until he could reach the bin in the far corner. Tucked away behind all of the white-themed decorations his mother had used for the last few years was the one he was looking for. He pulled it toward the attic stairway opening. Something scurried across his path and he let out a mild yelp. He took a breath and slid down the stairs like they’d been greased with shortening.
Dinah was waiting, standing in the garage at the bottom of the ladder ready to help with whatever he found. “Is everything okay? I thought I heard you scream.”
“That was a victory cry.” He carried the bin to the living room.
“Oh, you found the ornaments.” She hurried after him.
He’d stayed up late getting the tree in its stand, and then he’d hung the mistletoe from the entryway light, hoping he might catch Dinah standing beneath it before the day was over.
Then he’d gone to bed and dreamed of Dinah. He’d dreamed this was their house, and their tree, and after it was decorated they made love, rolling in the fallen needles scattered across the floor. In the middle of making love, Dinah had stopped and started making different piles for the needles, deciding which they should keep or throw away. He woke in a sweat.
He’d almost kissed her at the tree lot. It had been a close call. She’d looked so pleased with him and the tree, but Monty interrupted them, or he might not have remembered that he was a client, and so he shouldn’t take it personally if she gazed at him approvingly with those sparkly green eyes.
He opened the bin and there they were: the ornaments of his childhood. Colored glass bulbs. Salt dough ornaments made by his mother. His sister’s ornaments made from yarn and popsicle sticks. And down in the bottom, one he’d made in school.
“They’re wonderful,” Dinah said. “I bet your mother will love seeing these again.”
“I hope so. I stopped at the drug store last night and bought new lights. Oh, and look what I found.” He triumphantly held up a box.
She didn’t look impressed. “What’s that?”
“Icicles. I bought ten boxes. I think that should be enough. Once everything else is on the tree we’ll throw these on last.”
“Throw?” She grimaced. “Don’t you think we should place them strategically?”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not. Don’t even think about it. You take a handful and toss. Wherever they land that’s where they stay.”
She looked horrified now. “But they’ll be all clumped and tangled.”
He laughed. “You should see your face. Believe me, it’ll be fun.”
She didn’t sound like she was buying it. “It’s your tree. I’ll do my best to keep my opinion to myself.”
Linc grinned as if he’d won a major battle. “I’ll get started on the lights.”
“I’ll sort the ornaments while you do that.”
“Okay.” They worked for a while in silence and then he said, “I’m surprised we’ve never met before. Did you grow up in Everson?”
“No, I moved here last year. My mom and stepdad live here. You probably know them. Sheila and Warren Wright. My mother works at the bank. My stepdad sells real estate.”
“Oh sure, I know Sheila. So, is Mason your married name?” He was being about as subtle as a sledgehammer.
She looked confused. “My what? Oh, no. I’m not married.”
That was good to know. “What about a boyfriend?” He might as well go for broke.
She laughed. “I’m not married, and I don’t have a boyfriend. I’ve been too busy getting my business going to have time for anything like that. Does that answer all your questions?”
He shrugged. “I don’t mean to be nosey. I’m just trying to get to know you better. You’ve gotten to dig through my drawers and I hardly know anything about you.”
“So, let me ask you a question,” she said.
“I don’t have a girlfriend, either,” he said quickly.
She laughed. “That’s not what I was going to ask.”
He grinned. “Sorry. What’s the question?”
“What do you do for fun? I can usually get a hint when I work with someone’s space, but with you I don’t have a clue.”
“Working is fun for me. I guess that’s hard for some people to understand.”
She nodded her head eagerly. “I do understand. Nothing makes me happier than taking someplace that’s a total wreck and transforming it into a space that operates efficiently.”
He smiled. “I feel the same way about numbers. Someone gives me their books and a box of receipts, and I’m in heaven.” He’d never explained that feeling to anyone before.
Her smile was sweet when she said, “We sort of do the same thing, then.”
“When you put it that way, I guess we do.”
Before long the lights were in place, and they worked as a team getting the decorations spread out evenly.
“Which one of these ornaments is yours?” she asked.
He took a funny-looking Santa Claus from the tree. “I made this in my third grade art class.”
Santa was made out of paper plates and construction paper. His hat was folded and bent, his beard was shaped from the rippled edge of the plate, and his button nose was falling off. Linc studied it critically, thinking it was pretty good for third grade. “I do my best work in construction paper and glue.”
“It deserves a place of honor, for sure,” she said solemnly. She reached out to take it from him and her fingers brushed his. He stopped short. It was impossible to ignore the electrical charge that zipped between them. If she’d been any other woman he wouldn’t have hesitated. He would have pulled her into his arms, crushing the silly ornament between their bodies, and kissing her right then and there.
She smiled invitingly and her lips parted a bit, enough so he could feel her soft breath on his cheek. Her eyes softened to a leaf green, and he felt his caution crumble and transform into a maddening urgency. He let the ornament fall to the ground.
Then he was kissing her. She tasted like peppermint tea and smelled like cinnamon and pine needles. Her body melded against his, her breasts pressing against his chest. He wrapped both arms around her like he was claiming something rare and long lost. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling it from that infernal pony tail. Her mouth opened under his and while their tongues dueled, her hands roamed across his back. It wasn’t enough. Without another thought, he picked her up and headed down the hall.
They landed on his bed, mouths fused, arms and legs intertwined. There was nothing tidy about the way she got him out of his clothes. She tore his shirt open, and one button popped off and rolled across the floor. His T-shirt followed, landing on the chair beside the bed. She tossed his shoes across the room, knocking a candle off the dresser.
“Oops.” She laughed, and he captured the sound, kissing her more deeply than before. He unfastened his pants and she pushed them down his legs before dumping them on the floor.
His hands made quick work of her T-shirt and bra, and the sight of her bare breasts made him still for a moment.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“So are you,” she told him quietly. Then she grinned and kicked off her shoes so he could remove her jeans and underwear. He pulled her naked body against his and held her tenderly. For the first time, he felt he was exactly where he belonged. Here, with Dinah in his arms. And then the passion washing through his body threatened to sweep him away. He worshipped her body with his mouth and hands, kissing, licking, taking the time to explore every inch of her. Her hands seemed to be everywhere, driving him crazy, touching him with an urgency that threatened to break his control. When he finally pushed inside her it was all he could do to move slowly, to not rush, and to make sure she was right there with him as they reached the crest and rode it together. Slowly, reluctantly, he floated back to earth.
He gathered her close, kissing her, pulling a blanket up to cover them both. Her head nestled against his shoulder, and he thought he would be happy if she stayed there for the next hundred years.
* * *
Dinah stretched, reveling in the feel of Lincoln’s body next to hers. Her fingers traced the muscles of his chest, down to his flat stomach. She felt him shiver before rolling her underneath him.
“Are you trying to start trouble?” he asked huskily.
She kissed his neck. “Oh, believe me, it’s no trouble at all.”
He nuzzled the tops of her breasts. “In that case don’t let me stop you.”
Her hands traveled down his back, down to the firm cheeks of his rear end and up again. She could feel him hardening against her thigh and moved against him, urging him on, welcoming every touch, longing for more. She’d never felt so at ease with a man, while at the same time burning white hot from even the smallest contact. It was glorious. Linc’s hand moved to her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers before sucking it into his mouth. She arched her back, wanting more.
The house phone rang and the shrill noise made them pause. Linc lifted his head and smiled. “I’m going to ignore it.”
She smiled, too. “Good idea.”
He kissed her and the message machine came on. Dinah froze when Bitsy Jones’s voice floated through the room.
“Hello, Lincoln. This is your mother. I hope you aren’t giving Dinah a hard time.”
Dinah scooted out from under him.
“I wanted you to know we will be leaving on Saturday morning to drive home, and I can’t wait to see what she’s done to the place. Give me a call when you have time. Bye.”
Dinah sat up in bed, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up to cover her body. She felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her head. How had she let this happen? Bitsy, the woman who’d hired her, was calling her son while Dinah lounged buck naked on his bed. She’d vowed to remain professional, and yet one kiss from Lincoln and she’d practically dragged him down the hall, stripped him bare, and had her way with him.
Lincoln sat up beside her. “Sorry about the interruption. Now where were we?”
Dinah scooted to the edge of the bed, looking around for her scattered clothes. “We were nowhere. I don’t know what I was thinking, but this should have never happened.”
“What do you mean? Dinah, I’m glad it happened.”
She found her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. “Lincoln, I was hired by your mother to do a job, not cavort around with you in the middle of the day.” She found her jeans and stuffed her legs into them, not bothering with underwear. She plucked her bra from the nightstand and picked her underwear and shoes up from the floor. “I apologize for my unprofessional behavior. It won’t happen again.”
Linc stood up. “Dinah, wait.” But she was already heading toward the door. He wrapped the sheet around his body and followed her to the front door. “Can’t we talk about this?”
“There isn’t anything to say. We’re through with the tree, and I have other clients I need to check on.” Grabbing her purse and jacket she walked barefoot out onto the front porch.
He walked out in just his sheet. “But we haven’t done the icicles yet. Don’t go.”
“Feel free to toss them to your heart’s content.”
He touched her arm. “I’m so sorry my mother called when she did.”
She moved away from him and smiled one of those plastic smiles that never reached her eyes. “It’s a good thing she did. As I said, that should have never happened.” She left without giving him a second glance.
“Dinah, please.”
She could hear the frustration in his voice, but she hurried to her car feeling like the biggest kind of fool.
* * *
Dinah drove down the street five miles over the speed limit. For her that was reckless in the extreme. So much for her vow to act professionally. Normally, she wasn’t a line crosser, but since she’d met Lincoln Jones she’d had to constantly remind herself there were lines she shouldn’t cross. Like the one about not getting involved with a client. But had she listened? No. Like a fool she’d fallen into his bed without an ounce of resistance.
Dinah had told herself his mother was the client, not him, so it was okay to flirt. She’d convinced herself because she liked him and wanted to kiss him with every fiber in her being. When he leaned toward her, her heart started singing “Joy to the World” complete with bells, whistles, and three-part harmony. Just thinking of how he’d rolled her under his big muscular body swamped her with desire all over again. Damn the man.
Her work at the house was finished. The tree had been the last thing on her list. She had no reason to see Lincoln again, so that was the end of the story. The Jones family would have a wonderful Christmas, and she could rest easy knowing she’d helped.
Who was she kidding? She was going to have a miserable Christmas thinking nonstop about Lincoln Jones. Maybe she would take her mother up on her offer to join them on a skiing trip for the holidays.
Chapter Four
“This is Dinah Mason. I’m away from my phone. Leave a message at the beep.”
“Dinah. This is Linc. I could use your help. Please call me. Thanks. Bye.”
He sat at the counter at the Rise N Shine staring at his phone. It was the third message he’d left in the last week. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for being such an insensitive jerk, but he didn’t want to do it over the phone. Instead he left a message asking whether he should store his wire whisks in the utensil drawer or in the crock on the counter. He didn’t give a hang where the damn whisks should go, but he’d assumed she would have a firm opinion. Apparently not, since she never called him back.
