Heating up the Holidays Read online

  If only she’d let him.

  And for that moment in time, she did let him, let herself. She completely gave in to it, letting herself soar, content to be in his arms for as long as he’d hold her.

  Or at least as long as she could stand it before the doubts and fears overtook her again.

  H OURS LATER , Dustin stirred and reached for Cristina, knowing when he felt the cold sheets that he was alone in her bed.

  Rolling to his back, he sighed, not bothering to call himself a fool for believing that this time it would be different. He should know better by now.

  It was never going to be different, nothing was ever going to change.

  Except him.

  He could change.

  He could grow up and get over her and not give her the power to do this to him.

  Not ever again.

  5

  W HEN C RISTINA came back from her punishingly long hard run, Dustin was gone. Which was perfect, she told herself. Excellent. She didn’t need round two or an after-sex cuddle.

  Nope, she was good.

  Walking through the apartment she’d lived in for several years now, lived in and been content in, she found herself taking a good look around as Dustin had. When she’d first moved in, she hadn’t been able to afford a west-facing apartment so she couldn’t see the beach, but it was there, only two blocks away, and when she opened the windows, she could smell the salty ocean air.

  She had minimal furniture but she didn’t spend a lot of time here, so she hadn’t found it necessary to fill the place up with stuff she would never use.

  In fact, she hadn’t filled much of it at all, and as she took the place in, saw the half-empty, clean rooms, she came to the uncomfortable realization that Dustin might be right.

  She had nothing Christmasy out, no decorations, nothing personal at all.

  She’d never cared before. It hadn’t mattered, the holiday hadn’t mattered. In fact, little did beside her work.

  So when had that stopped being enough? When Blake had gone through such hell this year? When she’d thought he was dead and that she’d lost one of the few people she’d let herself care about?

  Or when two others on her team, Aidan and Zach, had each found their respective soul mates in Brooke and Kenzie? Yeah, that had shocked her to the core, two staunch bachelors, both falling so hard.

  With a sigh, she gathered her laundry, telling herself she didn’t care that she didn’t have a damn Christmas tree or some stupid decorations, and she sure as hell didn’t care that she didn’t have a soul mate, because if she had, then she might be doing laundry for two right now and that would suck.

  Besides, she didn’t even know if she believed in soul mates. The idea of it, that there was one person in all the persons of the world, one, that was meant for her, seemed crazy. With those odds, it was no wonder that she’d decided not to look.

  And yet…and yet a small part of her thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be doing two loads of laundry instead of one, if she had company while she was doing them. She dumped the first load into her washing machine, and, hearing the crinkle of paper, stuck her hands into her pockets. It was the red envelope, the one that had cost her twenty-five bucks on a whim.

  For charity. There. See? She’d made a contribution to Christmas, and somehow, ridiculously, the thought cheered her slightly. Until she opened the envelope and remembered what her twenty-five bucks had gotten her.

  That one-night romantic getaway. She and Dustin could have rocked that one night.

  She should just throw the card away and chalk it up as a tax write-off. There was no reason even to keep it around…

  But as she passed the trash can, she slipped the card back into her pocket instead.

  D USTIN WALKED IN the front door of his house and found his brother slouched on his couch, feet up, remote in hand, game on the television, as if he lived there.

  Jason nodded a greeting, taking a few seconds to tear his gaze off the game, but once he did, he blinked at Dustin’s disheveled appearance. “Either you got your ass kicked by the job, or you just got laid.”

  Dustin kicked off his shoes and dropped his keys and wallet, then sank to the couch next to his brother, whom he was damn happy to see. “You got off on leave a few days early.”

  “Yeah.” Jason wasn’t in his National Guard uniform, but wearing jeans and a vintage Van Halen T-shirt. “Thought I’d hang here, and we’d go up to Mom’s for Christmas Eve together. Nice change of subject, by the way.”

  “I haven’t seen you in six months, you don’t want to talk about my job.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about you getting laid.”

  Dustin rolled his eyes and leaned in to hug his brother, who met him halfway and pulled him in tight. “Missed your ugly mug a little.”

  “Same goes, bro. Same goes.” Jason offered him a soda and the chips, both of which had come from Dustin’s stash. “The house is coming along.”

  Dustin looked around him. They’d bought it together several years back, right before Jason had reenlisted in the National Guard. It was an investment over and above their usual renovation projects, and as a major fixer-upper, the investment part had been mostly faith.

  But with Jason’s down payment and Dustin’s physical labor, the place really was coming along. They could sell, put the profits into another house and start over again. Their sister wanted them to do that and hire her part-time as a cash laborer, which would be both a blessing since she was a hard worker, and a damned headache because she was also a pain in the ass.

  But it would be a nice transition out of his job, which Dustin had been restless at for far too long now.

  “Shelly called me,” Jason said, reading his mind about their baby sister. “She’s seeing some guy named Chewy. I told her I was going to have to kick his ass for no reason other than he lets people call him Chewy.”

  Dustin laughed. “He’s all right. And they’re not serious.”

  “You checked him out?”

  “Yeah. He’s in college like she is, and a good kid, despite the unfortunate name.”

  “All right then.” Jason stared at the game. Drank. Ate a few chips.

  Dustin looked him over. Still the same dark hair, cut militarily short, and light gray eyes which could warm with a quick laugh or turn to steel. Jason had always been a big guy, nearly six foot four, and beefy, like the football player he’d once been, but over the past years in the military, he’d honed his body into a much rangier form, looking more like a lean boxer now than a high-school football star. Their mom had been worried about him ever since he’d gotten back from being in the South, working in and near New Orleans on clean-up and rebuilding, going out on search-and-rescue calls as his orders dictated. And indeed, as their mom had said, there was something different about Jason, something less easily accessible and definitely introspective.

  “You could take a picture, it lasts longer.”

  Dustin didn’t rise to the bait. “I’m just wondering if you’re okay.”

  “Ah, and here I thought I looked so pretty today.”

  “Seriously, Jase.”

  “Seriously?” Jason set down his soda and hit Mute on the game, turning to face him. “Seriously, I was going to ask you the same thing. You look like shit. What’s up?”

  “I asked you first.”

  “Okay, what’s wrong with me is that the big bad world out there sucks right now.” Jason lifted a shoulder. “I work my ass off to do my part to fix it, but I can’t, and if I think about it too much it seems stupid even to be trying, so I am not going to think about it. Not for at least the next two weeks before I have to head out again. Now you.”

  “Me what?”

  “You might as well tell me before I knock it out of you.”

  Given Jason’s new physical prowess, he could do it, too.

  “Is it the job putting that look of misery on your face. Or a girl?”

  Dustin let out a breath. “Both.”

  “S