Jingle Spells (3 page)

“No! But let me pay you. Please.”

“Nope. Either I do it because I'm your friend or I don't do it at all.”

He opened his mouth as if to offer another objection. Then he closed it again. “All right. I'll take you any way I can get you.”

Her traitorous pulse leaped at that comment, damn it. She'd have to ride herd on her emotions and not allow them to get the best of her. Agreeing to this might have been a mistake, after all.

Chapter 3

C
ole had what he'd come for, and now he wondered how in hell he'd survive the next few days in close contact with Taryn without doing something stupid. Like kissing her. She'd been dynamite at twenty. At almost thirty, her sexuality had gone nuclear. The men in Seattle must have been blind. They should have been lined up outside her door.

She was still tall, still slender, but her curves had a lushness that hadn't been there before. How he longed to pull her into his arms and explore those curves. She moved with more grace and assurance than she had when they'd been in college. He knew, just
knew
that she'd be an even better lover now, and she'd been terrific back then.

They had to get out of her apartment and on that plane, where they'd be properly chaperoned. He glanced around her living space. Her computer was turned off and he didn't smell dinner cooking. “How soon can you be ready to leave?”

“What time is the flight?”

“Whenever I tell them.”

She blinked. “Oh. You came in your own plane. I didn't realize that. Is it tiny?”

“It's the Evergreen corporate jet, which is a decent size.”

“Evergreen has a corporate jet? The Christmas ornament business must be booming.”

“We do okay. Can you be packed in about fifteen minutes?”

“Uh, I guess so. But aren't you hungry? It's dinnertime, and I could make us something.”

That wasn't going to happen. Even if he didn't have the jet waiting at SeaTac, he wouldn't dare sit through an intimate dinner in this apartment. He'd noticed the wineglass she'd left on an end table. Wine, a little candlelight, the glow from the Christmas tree, and he'd be done for. They'd be stretched out on her pricey rug in no time.

The thought of that scene had a predictable effect. He walked toward the window and pretended to take in the view so she wouldn't notice the state of his crotch. He had a spell for controlling an inconvenient arousal, but it involved muttering an incantation, which would make him sound crazy as a loon.

He was feeling sort of crazy, but he didn't want her to know that. “The galley's stocked and we can eat on the way,” he said. “It's getting late. By the time we fly into Denver and make the drive to Gingerbread, it'll be after midnight. We should get going.”

“I suppose you're right.” She turned and started down a hallway. “Give me ten minutes to throw some things into a suitcase,” she said over her shoulder.

He watched her walk away and swallowed a moan of frustration. A pair of old jeans and a faded sweatshirt shouldn't be the sexiest outfit in the world, but on Taryn, it was. Her cap of milk-chocolate curls made her look sassy and down-to-earth.

You could mess around with a woman like Taryn, because she wasn't coifed and tailored. He'd always loved that about her. She could roll in the snow, run home to have sex, and never give a thought to how she looked. In those days, all he'd had to worry about had been her precious glasses.

Once she'd left the room, he called the car service he'd employed and told them to be waiting in front of the apartment building in fifteen minutes. Then he prowled around the living room and recorded impressions of who Taryn was, now. The fireplace mantle was crowded with framed pictures. These would be the family and friends he'd been destined to meet during that Christmas vacation when he'd abandoned her.

Knowing she was surrounded by loving people cheered him. Knowing she hadn't found the right guy gave him an unholy amount of satisfaction. That was wrong of him, and he knew it. He should want her to find Mr. Wonderful, settle down with him and be blissfully happy.

For years he'd assumed that had happened, but after finding her cheeky message on his database, he'd investigated to the full extent of the internet's capabilities. The evidence had been conclusive. Taryn didn't have a man in her life.

Although she didn't realize it, she currently had a wizard in her life. And if that wizard really cared for her, he'd keep his hands to himself and deliver her back to this apartment without ever once giving in to the urges that plagued him whenever they were together. Even if she wanted him to. And he could tell that she did.

After replacing each picture frame exactly as he'd found it, he wandered over to her Christmas tree. And there, nestled in the branches, was an Evergreen Industries ornament. He'd forgotten that he'd given her one right after Thanksgiving ten years ago, when they'd reunited after the long weekend.

He'd chosen it with care out of the hundreds manufactured that year. The round ball was green, but through a trick of the light and a sprinkling of wizard magick, it seemed to glow from within, as if it held sunlight inside. That theme was echoed in a gold filigree border circling the sphere with repeating sun symbols.

Cole loved the green ornaments most of all, because they symbolized the Evergreen family name, which in turn harkened back to the trees that stayed green all winter. The sun represented light, both physical and intellectual. He thought of Taryn as the embodiment of light, and he'd told her so when he'd presented her with the ornament.

“Yes, I still have it.”

He turned to find her standing in the living room wearing a tan parka with the hood thrown back, a khaki messenger bag over her shoulder. A small black suitcase sat upright beside her.

“I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd gotten rid of it,” he said. He didn't want to talk about their breakup, but he wasn't sure how to avoid talking about it.

“I considered giving the ornament away, but quite honestly, it's the prettiest one I have, and I couldn't part with it. I don't know how your company manages to make something glow like that when there's no solar chip involved. Is the entire covering solar? Is that how it works?”

“Can't tell you. Company secret.”

She cocked her head. “Do other ornament companies try to steal those secrets? I wouldn't expect that, because it's so contrary to the spirit of Christmas, but I suppose anything's possible.”

“I doubt they could steal that particular secret.” The incantation involved was known only to the Winter Clan, and no other wizard would be able to make it work right. In the wizard world, this incantation had the equivalent of a fail-safe component attached to it.

“But maybe they'd try, and that's why you're so intent on shoring up your security system.”

“Something like that. Ready?”

She nodded. “Just need to put out the cat.”

“The
cat
?”

“Gotcha! There's no cat, and even if there were, I couldn't very well put out a cat on the eighteenth floor, now could I?”

“Guess not.” He'd forgotten how much she enjoyed teasing him. It was easy to do, because he didn't expect anyone to say things that weren't true.

“I'd love to have a cat, preferably a black one, but that wouldn't be fair. I travel too much.”

“I didn't know you liked cats.” Cole thought of the lodge on Mistletoe Mountain, which was chockablock with cats, especially black ones.

“In our life at MIT, it didn't come up. Both of us lived in places that didn't allow pets.”

“Guess so.” He was impressed with how she referred to that time so casually, as if the memories didn't affect her at all. Maybe they didn't. He might be the only one who had vivid color images of those days rolling through his brain. And right now that video was playing in a continuous loop.

He gestured to the tree. “What about the lights?”

“They're on a timer. The apartment is as maintenance-free as I can make it. I'm gone so much.” She reached for the handle of her rolling bag.

He started toward her. “Let me get that.”

“Why? It's my suitcase.” She released the handle, though, as if sensing he wouldn't take no for an answer.

“But you're my guest.” He came up beside her and grasped the handle.

“Your guest?” Her eyebrows lifted. “I thought I was your independent contractor.”

“You would have been if you'd allowed me to pay you.” Instead of kissing her, which was what he wanted to do, he rolled the suitcase across the thick carpeting to the door. “But now that you've insisted on doing the job for free, that makes you my guest.”

She followed him to the door. “I think you're bossier than you used to be, Cole.”

“No, I'm not. I've always been this bossy.” Or so he'd been told by his siblings.

“Maybe you're right.” Once they were out the door, she locked up and dropped the keys in her messenger bag. “I might not have noticed it because we spent so much time in bed, and I kind of like a man to be bossy in bed.”

His sharp intake of breath was pure reflex. He couldn't have stopped himself from doing it if someone had put a gun to his head.

“Whoops. Did I say that out loud?”

He turned to her, his heart racing. “Yes, ma'am, you did.” He couldn't tell from her expression if she'd truly slipped up or if the comment had been deliberate, like her line about the cat. She seemed unapologetic as she met his gaze, so he suspected the latter.

She quickly confirmed his suspicions. “I'm trying to figure you out, Cole, and I'm having a very tough time doing it. Sometimes, when you look at me, it's like the old days, as if you're ready to gobble me up. But then you turn all logical and businesslike, and claim that the only thing you care about is shoring up the database. Which is the real you?”

He gave the only answer he could come up with. “Both.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

“It's complicated.”

“Apparently. And you seem really stressed about it.”

“That's because I am.” How he hated to admit that.

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Can you explain what the issues are? Because I didn't get that explanation ten years ago, and I'd appreciate hearing it now, before we hop on that plane.”

He wondered how he'd ever expected to get involved with her on a business level and keep it from morphing into something more personal. Of course it would. They'd been together less than an hour and it already had.

Facing her, he realized he'd missed a blindingly obvious fact. “That's why you hacked in, isn't it? To get that explanation.”

“Yes, it is. So if you'll tell me, then I'll go fix your computer system. All will be well.”

If only it were that easy. “Do you trust me?”

“In some things, yes. In other things, no.”

“Fair enough. I deserve that. Let me put it this way. Do you trust me to want the best for you?”

Her answer was a long time coming, but at last she nodded. “Of course you want the best for me. You're a nice guy. But the problem with that is you can't always know what's best for me. I'm a far better judge of that than you are.”

“I'm sure that's true in general. But in this particular situation I'm confident I know what's best. You and I aren't meant to be together.” Even though he knew that with a white-hot certainty, saying it cut like a knife.

She didn't seem to like hearing it, either. “Why not?”

“I can't tell you that. You have to trust me to know what I'm talking about.”

“Okay, look, before we walk down the hallway and get on the elevator, I need to know at least this much. Are you involved in criminal activity?”

That made him smile.

“It's not funny! I care about you, but I'm not willing to be an accomplice!”

“You care about me?” The words warmed him more than he could say.

“Of course I do.” Her voice softened. “I'll never forget our time together. Which is why, now that I'm about to turn thirty, I wanted closure on that relationship. I hacked in to get your attention and an explanation. You probably wish I hadn't.”

“I'm not sorry you hacked in.” That popped out before he'd known he was going to say it, but once he had, he knew it to be true. This episode promised to be a challenge, but having a chance to see her again and talk with her was worth any inconvenience. He never tired of looking into her hazel eyes and imagining the wheels turning in that amazing brain.

“I'm glad you're not sorry. Neither am I.” Without warning, she stepped forward and pressed her lips to his.

He'd been hanging tough until that moment, but as her velvet mouth made that achingly familiar connection, he came unglued. Her suitcase toppled to the floor when he let go of the handle, but the resulting clatter barely registered because he had Taryn in his arms again. A herd of reindeer could have stampeded through the hallway and he wouldn't have noticed.

With a groan, he pulled her close, enveloping the whole package, including her bulky parka and her messenger bag. She could have been wearing a space suit for all he cared, as long as he had access to her sweet lips. This kiss, this Taryn kiss, had been ten years in the making, and he was desperate for it.

As he reveled in the remembered pleasures of her mouth, his world clicked into focus for the first time in ages. He hadn't realized how blurred his view had been, but holding her made one thing crystal clear. She was the only woman he'd ever loved.

He was still cruising in the land of infinite joy when she grasped the back of his head in both hands.

Holding on tight, she drew back, depriving him of that amazing connection. “Open your eyes.”

He obeyed. In his current state of mind, he would have jumped from the eighteenth floor if she'd commanded him to.

“Tell me the truth, Cole. Are you a crook?”

He had to clear his throat before he could talk. “No.”

“Then what's the problem?”

With his arms around her and his mouth inches from hers, he couldn't think straight. She was the only person he'd ever known who could short-circuit his brain. “I can't tell you.”

She tightened her grip on his scalp. “Yes, you
can.
You just
won't.
I've thought of every possibility. I know you're not gay, not by the way you kiss me. And you said there's no other woman in your life. Are you dying?”