Moonlight and Mistletoe

“About Tommy’s age, I guess. Eight. Maybe nine.”

“You see something of yourself in him.”

“Yeah. A little.”

The ladies at the table finished tallying the donations and called their goodbyes. Shayna waved back. The movement stirred her appealing vanilla scent. His mouth watered.

God, could this woman get any further under his skin?

To keep from reaching for her, from stretching her out in the back of this truck and finding out just how far into her skin he could get, he clutched the edge of the tailgate and stared straight ahead. All around them, the town was rolling up the streets and turning in, the quiet of the early evening a welcome contrast to the afternoon’s commotion.

His fingers began to cramp, but he didn’t release his grip on the tailgate. Maintaining his distance, keeping his cool, was crucial. If he crossed that line and touched her again, he wouldn’t be satisfied with a kiss.

“Actually, he reminds me of this kid who lived in the home-our home-for a few months. Curtis Devon. Curt was a scrapper, always ready, willing and able to throw the first punch.”

“That does sound like Tommy. Did you two get into trouble together?”

“No. Curt was a couple years younger than me. I usually ended up hauling him to the house after some bigger kids had kicked his butt.”

“What did your folks say about that?”

“My folks? Oh, I ah, wasn’t living at home at the time.”

Shayna’s brow rose, but thankfully, she didn’t pursue the whereabouts of his parents. “So what happened to Curt?”

“One night his dad got more drunk than usual and broke Curt’s nose and a couple ribs.”

“Poor baby. Was he okay?”

“Eventually.” Kyle’s fingers released the tailgate and furled into fists at his sides. Even after all these years, the memory still sparked a vicious anger. “That was the last time the old man ever laid a hand on his son again. I talked Curt’s caseworker into pressing charges. I even testified. The SOB got eight years.”

“I’ll bet that’s the real reason you became a lawyer. Sounds like the system worked that time and you must have been impressed by the lawyer who helped Curt escape his father.”

It was a damn fine theory, one Kyle had considered himself a time or two, not that he intended to tell her. She saw through him too easily as it was.

“Nah. It was the money.” He lightened his tone, hoping to steer the conversation to more comfortable ground. But Shayna apparently had other plans.

She put her hand on his knee and squeezed reassuringly. The electric spark, always there whenever they touched, hummed as an undercurrent to a powerful sense of support and kindness. “So, how long were you in the system?”

He should have known she’d piece together the truth he was trying to keep hidden.

She asked the question so softly, her words sounded like a natural element of sundown, as expected as the stars, so natural in fact, he never considered not answering her.

“My mom was a junkie, and my dad was a two-bit criminal. I was bounced in and out of foster homes for about ten years. Till I turned fifteen.”

“Fifteen? That’s awfully old for an adoption.”

“I wasn’t adopted. After the convenience-store thing, I finally realized that if I didn’t get away, I would end up like my old man, stealing cars and dealing. I started searching for a way out and learned about a scholarship to an exclusive boy’s school. I don’t look back.”

“We all look back. It’s only natural.” A crisp breeze blew across the darkening parking lot. Shayna shivered, her shoulder brushing his. Without conscious thought, he threw his arm around her and pulled her in close to his side.

“I saw you stick a wad of cash in the donation bucket,” she said softly against his chest. “Thanks.”

“Like you said, it’s important.”

After a couple minutes of pleasant silence, Shayna pulled away and turned, sitting sideways on the tailgate, her knee folded against the side of his thigh.

“I talked with a friend of mine today about the paperwork you brought. He…gave me quite a bit to think about. He agreed with you about talking with a lawyer before doing or saying anything I’d regret.”

“Smart friend.”

“Yeah, but I can’t help wishing he had agreed with me that it’s all a pile of malarkey, and I have every right to be pissed.”

“No one said you can’t be angry, Shayna. But you’ve got to find a way to work around your emotions and make logical decisions.”

“Yeah. Travis said that, too.”

Travis, husband to pregnant friend Lindy. Kyle had met them both at the ground breaking and again last night. Neither had bothered to hide their suspicions. Or their support for Shayna.

“Sounds like you’ve got good people in your court.”

“I do, and speaking of which, I’ve gotta get Travis’s truck unloaded and back to him so I can get home and check on Brinks.”

“I imagine that monster’s got a nasty way of showing his displeasure if you leave him alone too long.” Kyle slid off the tailgate, amused by the sound of the brads on his new jeans clicking against the truck’s steel.

“Darn dog misses you,” she complained.

“What can I say? I, too, am good with kids and animals.” He offered his hand to help her down. He tugged and she jumped, the combination nearly sending them both to their butts.

Kyle widened his stance and stabilized them, bracing his hands around her waist to keep her from upsetting his balance again. Her hands flew forward, palms out, and got wedged between their upper bodies.

A streetlight shone through the white canopy, casting a soft glow beneath the tent. Mere inches separated their lips. Shayna shifted closer, the fingers of one hand slipping between the buttons of his shirt. Her fingertips grazed his chest.

He sucked in a breath as his hands slid down from her waist, cupped her full hips and pulled her body into alignment with his. The fit was exquisite.

She stared up at him, wide-eyed, lips parted. When the tempting tip of her tongue darted out, Kyle knew it was useless to resist. He moved one hand to the back of her neck and tilted her face up fully to his.

“I’m powerfully attracted to you-” he echoed her words from earlier “-and even though the timing sucks, I am happy about it.” He flexed his hips, grazing his desire against her tummy. “But I don’t want to do anything that you’re going to regret.”

When she grabbed his belt loops and eliminated every whisper of space between them, Kyle’s happiness grew even further. Before he could stop himself, he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.

Chapter Eleven

Oh, wow. Oh, wow. Oh, wow, wow. Wow!

Holy cow, did this man know how to kiss. Although, kiss was too mild a word to describe what Kyle’s mouth was doing to hers.

Assault? Absorption? Heaven?

Whatever you called it, Shayna wanted more.

Obviously, Thanksgiving had only been a sampling of Kyle’s talent. Straining onto her tiptoes, she dove deeper into the heady sensations. The firm, warm pressure of his lips, the sexy softness of his skin, the caress of his fingers along her nape.

Kyle’s tongue demanded entrance. She eagerly granted him access. This, her mind sang out, was what she’d been waiting for, why no one had ever truly threatened her self-control.

And this was what made him so dangerous. As his lips and tongue and hands continued to churn her desire to