Christmas in Lucky Harbor Read online

  With his first real smile and a soft laugh, he pulled her in and pressed his mouth to her temple. He ran a hand down her hair, tugging very lightly on the green tips, the small smile still curving his mouth, the one that tended to melt her bones with alarming alacrity.

  Her sisters appeared on either side of her, green hair and all. Jax offered them coffees, which were gratefully received.

  “You need a clone,” Chloe told him and sipped. “To share with the rest of the female population. What are we doing today?”

  Maddie knew what she wanted to do. Jax.

  But clearly his superhero powers of ESP were broken. “Painting,” he said to Chloe. “An entire day of painting.”

  Damn.

  They painted.

  And painted.

  Well, Tara and Maddie painted. Chloe worked on her skin care line.

  Jax worked outside and away from them on the wood trim. By the time Tara and Maddie quit at sunset, Maddie’s arms felt like overcooked noodles.

  Chloe, restless as usual, rode off into the sunset on her Vespa.

  “Stay out of trouble,” Tara called after her. Shaking her head, she sighed. “She’s not going to stay out of trouble.” She turned to Maddie. “I’m going in for my dinner shift. Come over when you’re hungry, and I’ll feed you.”

  “Will do.” Maddie stood in the middle of the living room of the inn and took stock as if she were looking at the place for the first time. The floors were looking good, and without the rooster and cow wallpaper, the rooms looked bigger and more airy. Even so, there was still something almost antiquated about the place, which was okay, because it fit like an old glove. It had character. And charm. It felt like a place that she could get comfortable in and stay awhile.

  Too bad that wasn’t going to be the case. For her entire life, “home” had been transient, a place to hang her coat, to rest her head, but not a place to stop for any length of time. Now she’d finally found a true home, one that embraced her, comforted her, and gave her peace.

  But just like everything else in her life, it hadn’t worked out. She’d been trying to keep that thought at bay, but the Denial Train was leaving the station.

  And soon, all too soon, Maddie was going to have to leave, too.

  Chapter 22

  “Catch and release when you’re fishing,

  and catch and release when you’re dating.”

  PHOEBE TRAEGER

  Jax spent the next few days installing the bathroom vanities and finishing the floors. The painting was done, as well. Tara had wielded a paintbrush with predictable meticulousness. Maddie had painted as she did everything else in her life. She’d started out tentative but had ended up giving her entire heart over to the process.

  She made him smile.

  And ache. He had no idea what would happen—if and when she’d be leaving, if she’d ever let herself fully trust him—but he knew what he wanted to happen.

  He wanted her to stay.

  As darkness fell on Christmas Eve, he stood outside the inn in the blustery, frigid air, cleaning up his tools, watching as first Tara sped off in Maddie’s car, and then Chloe on her Vespa.

  He turned to take in the single light shining into the dull, foggy dusk from the marina building. Setting down his tool belt, he headed that way and found Maddie at her desk. She was lit by the soft glow of the lamp, the rest of the marina in shadow. She had her back to him in her chair, feet braced up on the wall, computer in her lap, fingers clicking away.

  Helpless against the pull of her, he stepped in a little closer. She’d showered and changed from the day’s work and wore a pair of bright red sweats, snug enough to show her curves, yet covering her from head to toe. The hood was edged in white and had two white tassels hanging down, dangling to her breasts like two arrows. Along one leg were white letters spelling out “Mrs. Claus.”

  Her hair was piled messily on top of her head, held there with her knitting needles, and she was frowning, looking tousled and annoyed and beautiful. “Hey,” he said.

  She didn’t budge, and he realized she wore earphones, the cord trailing to her pocket, a tinny sound giving away her iPod. Smiling, he pulled out his phone and IM’d her.

  (JCBuilder): Busy?

  (ILoveKnitting): Trying to relax.

  (JCBuilder): I could help with that.

  (ILoveKnitting): Yes, you could. By telling me something about you. Your favorite childhood memory, your most embarrassing moment, what makes you tick—something.

  (JCBuilder): Eating ice cream on the Ferris wheel, plowing my first truck into Lucille’s mailbox, and living for the here and now. Now you.

  (ILoveKnitting): Making s’mores on a movie campfire set with my dad, every single second of that first time we met, and knowing that there’s always tomorrow to get it right.

  (JCBuilder): It?

  (ILoveKnitting): Life. You got a recipe for life that I can follow?

  (JCBuilder): Feeling brave?

  She laughed when she read that one, and Jax felt a weight fall off his shoulders.

  Tugging out her earphones, she leaned back even deeper in her chair. “If you only knew…” she murmured.

  “What?” he asked her, stepping closer. “If I only knew what?”

  She gasped and whipped her head around, losing her balance in the process and crashing to the floor.

  “Christ.” He came around the desk and crouched down at her side. “You okay?”

  “I’ve got to stop doing that.” Still in her chair, she was flat on her back on the ground, clutching her laptop, appearing annoyed until she got a good look at him and the crooked green scarf around his neck. “Aw. You’re wearing it.”

  “Yeah.” He’d been taking shit about it from Ford and Sawyer, too. He took her computer and set it on the desk, then reached for her, holding her down when she tried to scramble to her feet. “Wait. Just lie there a minute. What hurts?”

  “Besides my stupid pride? My butt.”

  Still on his knees, he lifted her out of the chair and pulled her over to him so that she was straddling his thighs in those Mrs. Santa sweats. “Cute,” he said, sliding his hands to said butt. “Better?”

  “Mmm. The sweats are Chloe’s. It’s laundry day. All my clothes are in the washer.”

  “Don’t tease me with the washer, Maddie.”

  She bit her lower lip between her teeth, and he laughed softly. “You know, I’ve never been jealous of a spin cycle before.”

  She grimaced in embarrassment. “Stop.”

  “You have no idea what the thought of you on that thing does to me.” He was hard already. And since his hands were on her ass, cupping her, he realized something else.

  She wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  With a groan, he slid his hands up to her breasts. No bra, either.

  Oh, Christ, he was a goner. “Maddie, where’s your underwear?”

  She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if imparting a state secret. “In the washer.”

  “You realize that puts you on the naughty list.” He slid a finger into her drawstring resting just below her belly button and very slowly began to tug.

  “What are you doing?”

  Unwrapping you…“Checking for injuries.”

  “Jax—”

  “That’s Dr. Jax to you.”

  Her eyes lit with humor, but she put her hands over his, stopping their progress. “I feel different with you. Good different. I just wanted you to know.” She removed her hands from his. “You can carry on now. Doctor.”

  He kissed her, then pulled back to look into her eyes. “I feel different, too.”

  “You do?” she breathed, her entire body softening for him. “What else are you feeling?”

  Hot. Hungry. Devastatingly seduced by the look in her eyes, the one that said she was falling for him. “Like I want you. All of you. Wrapped around me. Lost in me.” Having untied her bottoms, he reached for the zipper of her sweatshirt.

  She held her breath as he slid it d