Small Town Christmas Read online

  She stared down at them in her hand, then lifted her face to his. “I can take it for a spin?”

  “Yeah,” he said, sliding into the passenger seat. “Though I should have installed a three-point seat belt system.”

  “You don’t have to let me do this.”

  He knew she didn’t want to be in any more debt to him. But he was in debt to her, for opening his heart. “Just watch fifth gear,” he said. “It’s an instant ticket maker.”

  “ ’Kay.” But she chirped out of the lot on two wheels, and he grabbed the “oh shit” bar. In a Santa costume and he’d lost his balls. She flashed him a wide grin that made putting his life in her hands worth every second.

  Half an hour later, after tearing up the mountainous roads with wicked glee, Sandy pulled back into the pier lot and regretfully turned off the car. “Thanks for that, Logan. Thanks for everything. Tonight was—”

  He leaned in and kissed her. Kissed her until she let out a soft little moan that went straight through him as she slid her arms around his neck. Cupping her face, he stared into her eyes and saw his own hunger reflected back at him, so he dove back into the kiss, plundering her mouth until they were both panting for air.

  Invite me to your place, he wished on a Christmas spirit he wasn’t even sure he believed in. Invite me into your heart.

  “Good night,” she whispered instead, starting to get out of the car.

  He grabbed her wrist, meeting her gaze, unable to let her go.

  “I’m running a soup kitchen at Vet’s Hall until midnight,” she said softly. “I’m the only one of my staff without family in town. I always do it. I’ve got to go.”

  Slowly he released her and nodded. She got out of the car, walked to hers, and drove off into the night.

  Logan drove to the Lucky Harbor B&B. He knew one of the owners well.

  His ex-wife, Tara Daniels.

  They’d burned hard and bright in their early twenties, back in his wild days. He’d been an ass then, and hadn’t any idea how to nurture a relationship, much less a woman.

  Tara was Southern, a real Steel Magnolia. Tough as hell, with a soft, warm heart.

  She’d forgiven him, and they’d even become friends, of all things. He sat with her in the B&B’s big, homey kitchen that she ran like a drill sergeant.

  “Word around town is that you’re whipped,” she drawled.

  “Whipped is such a strong word.”

  She laughed at him. “Sugar, you’re here in Lucky Harbor, when you could be on a warm, deserted island with an assortment of babes. Give it up. You’ve finally fallen. Hard.”

  He looked into her amused eyes and admitted defeat. Not easy for him. “I was a lousy bet in my twenties,” he said in way of apology to her, though she already knew this. “I screwed up, made mistakes. I’m better now. And I know what I want.”

  “Don’t you even think about screwing this up,” Tara said. “Sandy’s a friend, a good one. She’s too sweet and kind for the likes of you.”

  “I know.”

  “You go after her this time, you have to keep her.”

  “I know that, too,” he said, and pulled the small ring box from his pocket. He’d been carrying it around for a month now, ever since he’d realized he couldn’t live without her. “I wanted to wrap it in something she couldn’t resist. I was thinking something sweet. Can’t you make me a fruitcake or something?”

  “Bless your heart,” Tara said. “But no one likes fruitcake. I’ll fix you up with just the thing. You’d best be sure, Logan Perrish. If you screw this up…”

  “I won’t.” And God, how he hoped that was true.

  It was twelve thirty a.m. before Sandy let herself into her house. Her place was high above the town on the bluffs. It was a tiny little thing, but she loved it because it was all hers.

  Inside, she turned on the lights to her Christmas tree but nothing else. For a long moment, she just looked at the cute little tree, flickering for all it was worth. She very carefully avoided peeking beneath it, where there were no presents. Her family was all back East, but she couldn’t afford to go this year. Her parents had sent her a check, but she hadn’t bought herself anything yet. Now she wished she had. When her phone rang, she jumped, startled. It was Logan.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said.

  She melted at the sound of his voice, even as her heart panged hard. She imagined he was already back in San Francisco, maybe celebrating with friends and family. “Same to you. How’s your Christmas so far?”

  “To be determined. There’s a present at your door.”

  “No,” she said. “I just came in…” Biting her lip, she whirled to the door and pulled it open.

  Logan stood there with a smile brighter than her Christmas tree, one hand braced above him, the other holding his cell to his ear. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she said breathlessly. Because she was a chronic idiot, she just stared at him. He shoved his cell phone into his pocket, and she walked into his arms. He wrapped them around her and kicked the door closed behind them as he eyed her tree. “It’s missing something.”

  “It is not,” she said, insulted.

  He set her loose and pulled a brightly wrapped present from his pocket and set it beneath the tree.

  Her heart stopped. How had he known? She stared at the present, then dropped to her knees in front of it. “I bought myself a new hair straightener the other day. I almost wrapped it and stuck it beneath the tree just to have a present to unwrap on Christmas. This is much better.”

  “Babe.” His voice was low, husky, and full of far too much understanding.

  Her heart took a direct hit, and she busied herself with fixing an already perfectly placed decoration.

  “Sandy, look at me.”

  No. If she did, her mouth might run away with her good sense and ask how long he was sticking this time. Another week?

  Less?

  If she asked, he might feel the need to be honest, to remind her that come next season, he still had an entire world counting on him, a world that was far from here. It was also a world that she secretly yearned to see and experience—but how could she ask that of him? She knew she could have gone and seen him these past few months. She should have, but the truth was she wanted to go as his one woman, not as one of his women. And worse, if she looked at him, he’d see all of that along with her entire heart. That would be the biggest mistake of all.

  Logan crouched before the woman he knew he’d never get enough of. She had her head bowed away from him, and she was breaking his heart. He reached for the box and handed it to her.

  She pulled on the ribbon and gently tore away the paper, then sucked in a breath at the robin-blue Tiffany box. “Logan,” she breathed.

  “Open it.”

  She pulled off the lid and gasped, then lifted the diamond pendant necklace from the box. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, and her eyes filled.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Hey, it’s supposed to make you happy.”

  She flashed a brilliant smile, if not a little soggy. “I am,” she assured him. “It’s just the most wonderful gift anyone’s ever given me.” She saw the card on the bottom of the box and reached for it.

  For Sandy,

  The only woman I want to be with for Christmas.

  Love, Logan.

  He took the necklace from her and placed it around her neck. She fisted her hand around the pendant and held it to her heart. “I love it, Logan. Thank you.”

  “Looks good on you.” He looked at her for a moment, hoping she was starting to understand how serious he was. Cupping her face, he stared into her eyes, slowly leaned in, and caressed her mouth with his in a gentle kiss. “I have another present for you. I’ve had this one for a while.”

  “No,” she said. “You’ve given me too much. It’s my turn to give you your present,” she whispered against his lips. “It’s wrapped and everything.” She took his hand in hers and brought it to the bow at her hip, the one that appeared to