It Must Have Been the Mistletoe... (16 page)

BOOK: It Must Have Been the Mistletoe...
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6

W
HILE HER BODY WAS FEELING
pretty awesome, Rita still watched the familiar Virginia roads flying by with mixed emotions.

She should be on top of the world. She'd spent the past two nights with a sexy, amazingly inventive lover whom she'd crushed on for years. She'd earned enough money selling toys to pay off the victrola and get her sisters a few more things as well.

So why was she bumming?

She watched an exit sign fly by, recalling that her parents had performed in a center right down that road. Her sisters had sung a duet. And Rita? As usual, she of no talent was out front, handing out flyers and selling CDs. But hey, she recalled with bitter glee, she'd sold the hell out of those CDs.

“What's wrong?” Tyler's question pulled her from her odd reverie.

Rita's gaze flew to his. How did she explain years of doubts to a man who'd never had one? As usual, when faced with sharing her failings, Rita sidestepped right into flirtation.

“Wrong?” she repeated, making the word sound like a naughty proposition. “I'm loose, limber and satisfied. Sweetie, you didn't do anything wrong.”

Tyler's grin flashed, but faded just as fast.

“You're still upset,” he insisted. “Why?”

Rita wrinkled her nose. “What're you? Mr. Introspection? Did you want to share our emotions? Maybe talk about our future?”

“Maybe we could chat about genital warts or prostate exams instead.” He glanced over with a smile. One of those special smiles that could melt her heart and turn her insides to goo.

“Even that'd be more interesting than what's mucking around in my head.”

He gave her a quick look. Those gorgeous blue eyes said he was concerned, he cared, and he wanted to make her feel good.

Rita's heart danced along with the holiday song ringing through the truck's speakers.

“C'mon, Rita. Aren't we more than hot, wild sex? What's wrong?”

Yes, they were more than sex. Which was a little scary. “Nothing, really. We used to live in this area. Just for a few months.”

“That's it? A few months?”

“You know we moved a lot before my parents settled in Ponder Hill, right?”

“Sure.”

“It wasn't bad, really. I mean, we met a ton of people, saw most of the country. I can even credit selling all those sex toys to that.” She gave a little smile. “At least half of the people on my social networks that showed up to buy goodies were people I'd met way back when.”

“And you kept in touch all these years?”

“Of course. I like people.”

From the look on Tyler's face, that was a concept he just didn't get.

“Don't you keep in touch with old friends? Like Benny. You were hanging out with him, right?”

Tyler gave a weird grimace, then shrugged. “Not much. I'd rather spend time on the bikes, working and trying to drum up more business, than sit around talking about days gone by.”

She wrinkled her nose. “If you stay in touch, you'd be talking about today, not yesterday.”

His expression clearly said he didn't find any more appeal in that than the idea of rehashing his wild teen years. Baffled, Rita shifted her knee up on the bench seat to fully face him.

“You know, if you bothered to keep up, some of those people might help you build your business,” she pointed out.

“How?” he challenged with a doubtful laugh.

“They'd remember your name when they want a bike. They'd recommend you to friends.” She could see that didn't impress him much, so she pushed harder. “Someone might mention you on a radio show. Or be willing to swap a magazine ad in exchange for a bike tune-up. Remember that gal who was so obsessed with photography back in school?”

“Millie something? Mary? No, Megan, right?”

“Megan Witting,” Rita confirmed with a snap of her fingers. “She stuck with the photography. Now she does shoots for all these big national magazines. If you were still in touch, she might have used your bikes in that
GQ
layout she did last year, instead of whatever local yahoo she used.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Seriously, it happens. I introduced this graphic artist to my boss a few years back when I was working at a bakery. This was in my wannabe-a-pastry-chef days. Not only did the guy design her logo, he ended up doing some great cake designs for her. Then they got married and have their very own baby bump happening.”

She spent the next thirty miles regaling him with stories of the power of networking.

Finally, he threw up one hand and laughed. “Fine, fine.
You've convinced me. Social networking isn't a waste of time and remembering people's names is a worthy skill.”

Chuckling, Rita gave a decisive nod. “Exactly. And now that you're convinced, I'll draw you up your very own plan.” She grabbed a pad of paper and started making notes. “This'll mean you don't ever have to drive two days to deliver a bike again. People will come to you, instead. I'll bet your business picks up at least fifteen percent by summer.”

“What? No peace-on-earth promises, too?”

“Give me a few years,” she vowed, warmed by his teasing tone. But even more by his absolute faith. Nobody had ever believed in her like this.

“None of this put that sad look in your eyes,” Tyler insisted after a few minutes.

Surprised at the return to his original question, Rita answered before she could censor herself. “No, that's just the familiar weight of failure bumming me out.”

 

“W
HAT
?” T
YLER COULDN'T
keep the shock from his voice. What the hell was she talking about? “How can you think you're a failure?”

“Well, I'm hardly a success.”

He had to force himself to turn his attention back to the road.

“It's not like there are only two choices,” he smiled.

“Aren't there?”

He frowned, needing to think that one through.

“No,” he insisted. “Success is faceted. Failure is black-and-white.”

“I just got fired from my fallback job, the one I always turn to when I fail at yet another career,” she told him. “Which is pretty black in my books.”

Figuring it best not to point out his part in that job failure, Tyler shook his head. “That's because you keep trying to do
the wrong things. But the fact that you keep trying proves you aren't a failure.”

“Wrong things?” she repeated, ignoring the rest of his words.

“Yeah. You've already got all you need for the perfect career. You just haven't pulled it together yet.”

Looking at him as if he was crazy, Rita shook her head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Social networking. Building relationships. Promoting businesses and people. All that stuff you've been lecturing me on. Just look at your notes. You've written three pages of plans for my business already. Do you have any idea how much consultants charge for that kind of thing?”

Tyler laughed at the shock on Rita's face.

“You're a natural,” he assured her. “You actually like people and understand how to build friendships, relationships. I've gone to a couple of those promotion seminars they hold at the business center. Those guys talk about networking, but it's just talk. You, on the other hand, really get what the give and take are all about.”

Her silence started to make him nervous.

“What?” he prodded. “You don't think it'd work?”

“I've never considered it until just now,” she mumbled.

Puzzled at her frown, Tyler reached over to give her hand a squeeze. He didn't understand how a woman as confident and amazing as Rita could doubt her skills.

“Just think it over,” he urged her. Not that he planned to give up. Not now that he'd found an idea that might keep her in Ponder Hill. If she ran with it, she could build a successful business right there with him.

Tyler liked that idea. The possibility of building something together. Enough time to see if what was flaming between them was solid enough to last.

Except for one tiny problem.

Randy.

Randy, who not only blamed Rita for all his love life woes, but who regularly brought up the evils of the Cole sisters, adding Alison's treatment of Tyler to his list. A list Tyler had always supported.

He'd been an idiot to judge Rita as he had.

Time to call home and start laying the groundwork toward the Cole girls' redemption.

Because one way or another, he planned to keep Rita Mae as his very own Christmas gift.

7

“T
HIS WAS A GREAT IDEA,”
Tyler murmured against the rich fragrance of Rita's hair. “I'm glad the snow forced us to stop early.”

Maybe
forced
was the wrong word. He'd seen a few flurries and immediately cited driving dangers, finding the closest hotel and checking them in before dinnertime. Sure, wild roadside lovemaking was great, but he'd wanted a soft bed. A hot shower. And plenty of room to try out the few toys Rita had left.

Tyler didn't know when he'd felt this incredible. With Rita, he didn't have anything to prove. She didn't expect anything from him except that he be himself.

He tightened his arm around her waist and gave a deep sigh.

“S'good?” she murmured sleepily, her breath a warm caress against his skin.

“S'great,” he clarified. And it was. He felt he'd finally found that last piece of the puzzle, the one he hadn't even realized he was missing. He had a good life. But with Rita in it, it would be amazing.

The job he loved was going to get even better, thanks to
Rita. His free time was going to be filled with laughter and great sex, thanks to Rita. And his future?

The only problem with planning a future was Randy. Tyler thought about his call home the day before while Rita was selling her toys. He'd tried to broach the subject of getting over exes and the craziness of teenage love, but a recently dumped Randy had launched a rant about the fickleness of women and their lack of heart.

Not the opening Tyler wanted for his suggestion of a special guest for Christmas dinner. And as much as he wanted to tell his brother to grow up, a lifetime of protecting the kid was hard to overcome.

But he was a smart guy. He'd find a way to fix it so Randy got over himself, their mom wasn't upset about her boys fighting, and Tyler got to keep Rita.

Somehow.

“I want to see you in Ponder Hill,” he said, figuring tiptoeing into the subject was better than diving.

She tilted her head back, her eyes a pool of sleepy sensuality, and gave him a smile that made his heart sing. “I have to spend Christmas with my family, but I'm sure I can sneak out for a little mistletoe action.”

Muscles he hadn't even realized he'd tensed relaxed. She'd so easily accepted that they'd continue to see each other. He was more relived than he wanted to admit. With his free hand, Tyler tucked a stray lock of black hair behind her ear, loving the silky texture.

“I'll be with mine, too.” He hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say. Despite the opening, he just wasn't sure how to put it into words, though.

“You know,” she said slowly, her fingers tracing a concentrated pattern on his chest, “my family might not be too excited about our dating at first.”

“Huh?”

“Prom. You and Alison. Knocked up rumors.”

He grimaced.

“But hey,” she said quickly. “I'm sure they'll get over it. I mean, it'd be crazy to hold a grudge over a little teenage high jinks, right?”

“High jinks?” He didn't expect Rita to feel guilty for her sister's actions, but…high jinks? “She told the entire school I got her pregnant.”

“Well, she was upset.”

Her smile faded when she saw the look on his face.

“Kinda like Randy was upset when you dumped him,” Tyler shot back. As soon as the words were out, he wanted to take them back.

Rita frowned.

“Dumped? It was hardly that dramatic.”

“Are you kidding? He still hasn't gotten over you breaking his heart.”

“Breaking his heart?” Rita looked genuinely puzzled. “No way. We only dated a few weeks. It wasn't like it was a grand passion—we never did more than swap a few kisses.”

“Is that your criterion for love? How far you go with a guy?” And how pathetic was he when his heart leaped up to do a little victory dance at the fact that their naked exchanges must put him pretty high on the emotional charts.

“I'd say it's a pretty good criterion, wouldn't you?” she teased, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “It takes a strong emotional connection to make the sex incredible. And why waste time on anything less than incredible?”

All his worries melted away.

“Of course, incredible's going to be interesting when my family finds out,” Rita said with a little grimace. “You think
you'll
have a hard time? How do you think it's going to be for me? I'm bringing home one of the Cole girls. And the wildest one, at that.”

“The wildest…”

He barely heard Rita's whispered words.

“Randy's got such a major grudge against you, I even went with Benny to that bar to keep you from…”

Tyler's mouth was about two seconds ahead of his brain. By the time the mental warning flashed, it was too late.

Rita pulled back.

“From what?” Her eyes narrowed. “To keep me, the wild Cole sister, away from your brother? Is that why you slept with me? A distraction so I wouldn't go after Randy when we got home?”

“Bad word choice.” He gave her his most charming smile. His brain was still stumbling behind, though, and he couldn't think of a good excuse, so he used the fallback option.

Running the palm of his hand along the silky smooth warmth of her hip, he leaned closer to brush his lips over hers.

She hissed. Tyler pulled back fast. From the look in her eyes, she wouldn't hesitate to bite.

 

R
ITA FELT SO EMOTIONALLY
battered it actually hurt to move. But she'd be damned if she'd lie there bare-assed naked with someone who thought so little of her.

Throwing off the covers, she leaped from the warm bed, suddenly feeling exposed. She grabbed her sweater, pulling it on without bothering with a bra.

“C'mon, sweetheart. Don't be this way.” He had the nerve to sound all innocent, like he hadn't just done the emotional equivalent of telling a kid there was no such thing as Santa Claus.

“You hit on me in the bar to piss Benny off,” she accused him as realization hit her like a brick wall. Shards of pain sliced through her, making it hard to catch her breath enough to speak. “You were trying to blow my ride home.”

That sexy, multiple orgasm glow left his face and it hardened into stiff, unreadable lines. But Tyler didn't say a word.

“You went along with giving me a ride home to keep an
eye on me, didn't you?” He still kept silent, but the answer was clear in his eyes.

“You're making it sound ugly and premeditated, like I was trying to hurt you,” he finally said.

Feeling more naked than ever, Rita glanced around the room in search of her jeans. Grabbing her panties, she had them halfway up her thighs when a thought hit her.

“You didn't have any stops to make, did you?” Her breath lodged painfully in her chest, and she had to swallow before continuing. “You made that up to drag the trip out. To give your brother time to get away before I got home.”

“Look, you're turning this into a bigger deal than it really is,” he protested.

“Do you deny it?” she asked, hoping like crazy he would. Even if it was a lie, she wanted to hear the words.

But Tyler Ramsey never backed down from a fight. Instead he shifted into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard and slapping his arms across his chest.

“I don't deny I was looking out for my family. That's what I do. It had nothing to do with you, really.”

Her jeans on now, Rita almost zipped up her fingers as they fumbled in shock at his words. “Nothing to do with me?”

“Look, you're stronger than Randy. You don't get what it's like to fail. To carry a torch, to wish for someone who's way out of your league.”

Wasn't her entire life a series of failures? The biggest one lying there naked right now? And she wasn't even talking about the pathetic torch she'd carried for him all these years. Unwilling to let him see her tears, she started packing.

“What're you doing?”

“What's it look like I'm doing?” Hurt fueling her movements, Rita tossed her belongings, willy-nilly, into her tote bag.

“Get real,” Tyler chided in that “I'm a man so I can see you're acting ridiculous” tone that made her want to stop
tossing things in her bag and aim it at his head instead. “What're you going to do? Sleep in the truck?”

The truck? Sleep? So mad she could barely connect one thought to another, Rita glared. But she didn't slow her packing.

“Don't blow this out of proportion,” he ordered.

She wouldn't be surprised if her head exploded. Damned if she shouldn't have stuck with admiring the pretty packaging. An empty box would have been so much better than this miserable mess she'd so gleefully unwrapped.

Rita slung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed her purse, then headed for the door.

“Where the hell are you going?” he demanded.

Hand on the doorknob, Rita stopped. She turned to face him, staring through tear-filled eyes. All sexy and still love-mussed, Tyler stood, hands fisted on hips covered with the draped bedsheet.

“I'm going home,” she told him. “You can drop my stuff at my parents'. Or at Benny's. Or wherever.”

“Don't be…” Finally catching a clue, Tyler bit off the rest of his admonishment with a quick shake of his head. “Look, you're pissed. I get that. I screwed up, got stuck in the past. Don't let that ruin this.”

Ruin what? What the hell was
this,
other than a lie on his part and pure wishful thinking on hers? How stupid was she to actually believe Tyler might see more in her than a sexy body and a pretty face.

“You know what, you're right,” she forced herself to admit, although she'd much rather be able to call him an all-around liar. “I did hurt Randy. When I was seventeen. I was careless and selfish. And just as responsible for my actions as you were with Alison.”

He frowned. Whether at her confession or the hurt she knew was probably showing on her face, Rita wasn't sure.

“But you, Tyler? You broke my heart on purpose.”

“The hell I did.” He scowled now and wrapped his sheet tighter. Like she was going to, what? Dive in and get her revenge on his bare boy parts?

“You kissed me in the bar. Why?”

Anger flashed bright in his eyes and he opened his mouth. Then shut it.

God. Even though she'd suspected, confirmation still hurt like crazy. But all she had left was her pride.

So Rita nodded, smirking through the pain. “Exactly.”

She yanked the door open, then stopped. Necessity as much as habit had her posing, hip shot out with a sexy toss of her hair as she looked back.

Calling on every ounce of pride she had, Rita lifted her chin and hid the pain ripping through her heart.

With a smile she hoped he saw in his dreams for years to come, she tossed a “Merry freaking Christmas” over her shoulder, then waltzed out.

BOOK: It Must Have Been the Mistletoe...
3.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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