A Kiss in Winter Read online

  She bit her lower lip. “And I’m not behaving like much of a lady.” She stepped back out of his arms and tried not to look at his naked chest. “I’d be the one taking advantage… I—”

  “Shhh.” He ran a finger along her cheek. “Go get a shower. I’ll put some clean clothes outside the door here.”

  “Thank you.” She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, before she weakened and threw herself at him again. It had felt so good to give herself over to the sensations he roused in her. So good to bury herself in the comfort he offered. But oh so wrong.

  Her career waited. The world waited. She had a plan. More and more often, she had to remind herself that Mick Larsen wasn’t a part of that plan.

  She shucked off her damp, muddy clothes and climbed into the shower, which proved no sanctuary from her thoughts of him. When she used his soap, she thought of how small it must be in his big hands. As she inhaled the scent of his shampoo, she thought of her face pressed against the wet hair that clung to the side of his neck. And when she stepped onto the damp bath mat, she placed her feet inside the wet imprints of his. When she looked into the obscurity of his steamy mirror, she saw his eyes.

  The deep cold finally left her body. She didn’t know if it was due to her thoughts of Mick and how it had felt to be pressed against his bare chest, or the long, hot shower. Most likely it was the former.

  Wrapped in a towel, she retrieved the clothes he’d left outside the door. She pulled on a sweatshirt that was long enough to be a dress. Her hands disappeared somewhere far above the cuffs. He’d given her a pair of athletic pants, too, but even with the drawstring she had trouble keeping them up. She left them folded in the bathroom.

  She found Mick in the kitchen stirring something on the stove. His hair was still damp and he was barefoot, wearing a pair of jeans and a white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the hem untucked. Standing there at the stove, he looked like every woman’s dream of the morning after.

  How easily it could have been, she thought sadly.

  He finally noticed she was in the doorway. After a first passing glance over his shoulder, he turned and looked at her again. “I, uh…” His gaze lingered on her legs. “I thought you could use some hot chocolate.”

  “Thanks.” She suddenly wished she’d put on the athletic pants, especially since the mud had soaked through to her panties and she’d left them upstairs with her dirty clothes.

  She went to the table and sat down, sliding her chair underneath and tucking the sweatshirt between her thighs.

  “Did you eat dinner?” he asked as he got two mugs out of the cabinet.

  “No, but I’m not hungry.” She pushed her wet hair behind her ears, then crossed her arms on the table.

  He returned to stirring the pan on the stove. “My mom insists the powdered stuff isn’t really hot chocolate. We Larsens make it from scratch—with whole milk, sugar, and real cocoa.”

  He was avoiding the subject of the brochure, and she was content to let it be… for now.

  His mention of his family brought to mind the unusual call Caroline had received from Debra Larsen. “I talked to your mom yesterday.”

  He stopped stirring and looked at her. There was a hint of accusation in his eyes. “Really? Where?”

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t call her to try and force you to help me track this guy down, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  He turned away quickly enough that she thought just maybe that was what he’d been thinking.

  She said, “She called because she wants a family portrait made on Thanksgiving.”

  “No kidding? Did she say why?” His tone was edged with suspicion.

  Caroline wondered what prompted that suspicion, but lifted a hand dismissively. “Just that you’ll all be home.”

  “Hmmm.” He poured the chocolate into mugs and didn’t offer clarification.

  Talking about families while in this kitchen, smelling hot milk and warm chocolate, Caroline felt the sting of her parents’ absence in a way she hadn’t in a long time. Sitting there feeling small inside Mick’s bulky sweatshirt brought to mind how vulnerable she’d felt the first time she’d set foot inside this room. She pulled the gold heart out from beneath the sweatshirt and rubbed it between her fingers. It felt reassuringly warm after lying against her shower-hot skin.

  Mick placed a mug in front of her, then sat down at the table. His gaze fixed on her fingers fiddling with the necklace. He looked at her for a long moment, then said, “That necklace means something special to you.”

  “Yes.” She held it tightly. She’d never shared the full story of this necklace with anyone, not even Macie. Looking into Mick’s eyes, the story flowed out as naturally as an exhaled breath. “After I came here as a foster child, I had a hard time understanding why my mother was gone. I mean, I knew she was dead, had died in her bed, but couldn’t figure out why because she hadn’t really been sick. I had trouble sleeping, afraid the same thing would happen to me.

  “My mother—my adoptive mother, that is—gave me this.” She held the heart out on its chain for Mick to see more clearly. “She told me that my mother had died of a broken heart. She fastened this around my neck and told me it was unbreakable and as long as I wore it, my heart would be safe and I could sleep without worry.”

  Mick leaned forward and slid a finger under the heart. “Smart woman, your mother. I see this heart is still intact.”

  Caroline smiled softly. “A little nicked up around the edges, but yes, it’s still whole.”

  Mick closed his hand around the heart. “I suppose you never allow anyone else to carry it for you.”

  Looking into his caring eyes, she was tempted to hand it over to him. He was a man who would take seriously the guardianship of something so precious.

  It struck her then, this was the man with whom she should be setting an example for Macie. A man whom she could trust to care for her heart, not a man like Kent, who could never touch it.

  But how could she allow it? She was leaving in a few months.

  A little voice inside her said, So take the few months for what they are. You don’t have to lose yourself. Show Macie how to love and love well.

  Oh, she was so tempted.

  Instead, in answer to his question she leaned back, her movement pulling the heart out of his hand.

  There was such hurt in his eyes that she couldn’t look into them.

  Don’t let him think what he’s thinking. He deserves to know why.

  “I’m leaving here in a few months, Mick.”

  He pressed his palms against the table. “So you said—I believe we were in the Home Depot parking lot.”

  Most guys didn’t remember what you’d told them, let alone where. God, he was making this hard. “I like you.” The understatement of the century, but to say more would be emotional suicide. “Too much to start something already destined to end, and most likely painfully. I don’t want to hurt you.” She looked directly into those blue eyes and felt the heat of his gaze right down to her toes.

  “Caroline, I’m a big boy. You don’t have to protect me. I understand your life is heading in another direction than mine.” He put a hand over hers. “But we owe it to ourselves to see what can be between us. Don’t pass up something you want just because you’re afraid of being hurt.”

  “But you want children…”

  He stood, then leaned down so his nose was close to hers. “I know how you feel about children and a career. You haven’t hidden anything from me. I’m making a fully informed choice.” He straightened, pulling her out of her chair and pressing her against him.

  She knew she should stop him before he kissed her, but she stood mesmerized as he lowered his lips to hers. He moved slowly, as if he expected her to pull away. But she didn’t. She stood there, aching with a need that overpowered her good sense.

  In that instant, passion flared in his gaze. No longer gentle, he kissed her in a way that set all of her senses on fire. He burie
d one hand in her damp hair as he grasped her backside with the other, pressing them intimately together.

  She came up on her toes, matching her heated body to his. As she returned his kiss with an abandon she’d never imagined, Caroline finally understood how a woman’s heart could obliterate her brain. Her feelings for this man blazed hot and bright. Nothing in this world was as important to her at this moment than the feel of his hands upon her. Heat pooled between her legs. Her breasts tingled. And her heart swelled.

  Easing slightly away, Mick breathed against her lips, “I choose to be with you.”

  Dear Lord, she burned for him. This was just the kind of inferno that had destroyed her mother. She pushed slightly away and said firmly, “I am leaving.”

  “And I won’t ask you not to.” His eyes were bright with desire, and yet restrained with sincerity. He kissed her again, not a kiss of passion this time, but of promise.

  Instead of escalating his possession of her, he stepped away and dropped his hands to his sides.

  She refrained from throwing herself back into his arms. “You say this now, but what if it’s too hard…” Maybe she was protecting herself and not him. Could she leave him once these feelings took root?

  Then he raised a single finger and touched the heart around her neck. “Let me carry it for a while.”

  She drew in a shuddering breath. “And when it’s time for me to go?”

  “I won’t hold it prisoner.” His finger slid lightly from the heart across her collarbone. “I swear.”

  As Caroline stepped willingly into his arms, she slid her hands beneath his shirt and placed them over his heart, thinking it might just be too late to save her own. He held it already, with or without her conscious decision.

  The question was, would she have the strength to ask for it back when the time came?

  Macie lay on one of the twin beds in Laurel’s room, talking to Caleb on her cell phone. Laurel wasn’t home from a date and didn’t know Macie was there. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be stuck here. Caroline was really freaked out.”

  Caleb didn’t say anything.

  “What?” she prompted.

  “I don’t think you should be clear out there if someone’s trying to hurt you. You need to be someplace safer.”

  “Like where?”

  “With me. We have plenty of room. We live on a busy street. Our house has an alarm system. I’ll explain the whole thing to my dad—”

  “Whoa! Whoa! You actually think your parents would let me move in? Come on, Caleb.”

  “If it means keeping you safe. It’s not like we’d be here by ourselves. You know how my mom is; she could even lock me in my room at night—”

  “Caleb!” She had to stop him before he did something crazy. “Caleb, please, don’t tell your parents anything about this. I just wanted you to know where I am. If Caroline thought the guy was coming after me, she never would have left me… anywhere.”

  That’s all she needed; on top of his parents thinking she was a slut, they’d think her sister was some nutso who thought someone was blowing up stuff just because she’d taken a picture of it. Macie was pretty sure Caroline was overreacting—even though the note was way creepy.

  Macie had nearly had a heart attack when Caroline started questioning if she’d heard anyone on the porch. She’d been out in the country with Caleb until nearly six o’clock. If Caleb’s parents found out about that, man, the shit would hit the fan. Everyone would jump to the wrong conclusion that they’d been out there having sex. Why couldn’t they understand she and Caleb just needed to be together?

  He sighed into the phone. “I’m worried.”

  “I’m fine. Mr. Bennett has a whole case of rifles.”

  “Don’t joke.”

  “I’m not. He’s a really good shot, too.” She paused. “Really, I’m safe.”

  “Keep your cell phone with you all the time.”

  “I will.”

  “I mean it, Macie, in bed with you, when you go to the bathroom… all the time.”

  “I said, I will!”

  “Don’t get pissed. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”

  “I know. I’d better go.”

  “Call me before you go to sleep.”

  “All right.”

  “I love you, Mace.”

  “Love you, too.” She hung up, surprised at how easily those words came to her. She’d always imagined it would be hard to tell someone she loved them, risky. But it was easy to say it to Caleb.

  She put on her earphones and turned on her iPod, dreading Laurel coming home. She and Macie weren’t on the best of terms right now. But she couldn’t have let Caroline know that; it’d just have set her off about how Macie was changing because of Caleb again.

  Laurel didn’t like Macie spending time with Caleb. She did nothing but bitch and complain that Macie didn’t have time for her anymore. Well, who was out tonight?

  Macie hoped staying here wouldn’t be more than a one-night deal, and not just because it was going to be awkward with Laurel. As long as she was here, and as long as Caroline thought there was some wacko out there blowing stuff up, there would be no way Macie and Caleb could manage any more secret meetings.

  Caroline lay with her cheek on Mick’s chest. His heart was still beating rapidly from their lovemaking. She didn’t think her own would ever settle back into normal rhythm. Even if it slowed, the heart she’d guarded so carefully her entire life now lay in his hands. It would never be the same again.

  His hands stroked her back, inciting a ticklish chill.

  He must have noticed her shiver, because he reached down and pulled the blankets up over them. “You okay?” he asked as he tucked her more tightly beside him.

  She nodded, then shifted to prop her chin on the hand she moved to his chest. It was time for her to open the door she’d slammed in his face all those nights ago, when she’d left him sitting alone with his guilt on the back step. She owed him that much.

  “Tell me about what happened in Chicago.”

  He stiffened. “I already told you.”

  “Come on, Mick, you baited a hook—you didn’t tell me anything. I thought we were starting this relationship with honesty. Don’t screw it up already.”

  His chest rose with a deep breath; then he let it out slowly.

  She decided she wanted him to be able to see her face while he told his story, to know that her faith in him would not be shaken. She sat up, pulling the blankets around her and tucking them under her arms. The light from the hallway shone across his face, and when she looked into his eyes she saw that raw pain that he usually hid so well.

  She knew what it was like to be alone with your fears, to face your shortcomings head-on while standing naked in the desert. He’d stepped into her life, taken her hand, and made her believe that she was no longer alone. Now it was her turn to do the same for him.

  He turned on his side to face her, propping his head on one hand. “I chose psychiatry because I don’t have whatever doctor gene is in my family that makes everyone else a natural. But I did like figuring out puzzles, liked the idea of helping other people understand themselves better than I’d understood myself growing up. I figured maybe I could help…” He swallowed convulsively. “I never considered that I would actually do harm.”

  She waited in silence for him to open the darkest door in his soul.

  He wet his lips. “Kimberly had lots of contacts in Chicago; she’d grown up there—a wealthy family. So my practice quickly filled with rich kids who weren’t really ill; some were bored, some confused, some starving for attention, but very few with a true diagnosable illness. I served more as a counselor than a psychiatrist.”

  He closed his eyes for a second. “And I screwed up, Caroline. I mean, I really screwed up.” Opening his eyes, he held her gaze. “I should have been man enough to quit long before it got to that point. But the ball was rolling, my parents had already invested a ton of money in my education, Ki
mberly had expectations, I thought I could make the best of it… all bad reasons for staying somewhere I had no place being. And three innocent people paid the price.”

  He stopped talking long enough that she thought he might not go on.

  She reached out and touched his cheek. “Tell me.”

  Taking her hand from his cheek, he held it on the bed between them. His grip was that of a drowning man. He focused on their hands. “He was seventeen. I’d been seeing him for three weeks, once a week. The first week I also met with his parents. His mother was worried because he’d had a breakup with a girlfriend and he couldn’t seem to come out of the ‘blues,’ as she called it. I asked if they felt any urgency, did we need to admit him to a stress center. His father immediately dismissed the need.

  “The kid came in talking the same talk that they all did: ‘Life sucks.’ ‘Nobody gives a shit about me or anything else.’ ‘What’s the point of doing anything?’ I’d been around that block several times before.”

  He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I see it in your eyes. You think these statements are all alarming. But in that environment, most of these kids are posers. It takes a while to sift out those who truly have a problem from those who are just yanking their parents’ chains, working the system. And I never prescribed a drug unless I was damn sure it was needed.

  “By the second session, my gut told me something was truly going on with this kid. But his history didn’t show any of the classic symptoms; no cruelty to animals, no obsession with guns or violent games, he dressed normally, maintained respectable grades in school. There hadn’t been an appreciable change in any of his habits.

  “I had him scheduled to take a battery of psychological tests. Before he ever took them, he went to the girlfriend’s house and killed her and both of her parents. He shot them all multiple times, then stabbed the corpses.” His voice broke slightly as he said, “A sixteen-year-old girl… a child.”

  Caroline was certain he’d said those last details out loud in order to punish himself. And to shock her out of any sympathy she might be feeling for him. She bit back her instinctive response—the sympathetic words that would deflect blame and responsibility away from him. No doubt, he’d heard them all a thousand times, enough to render them meaningless.