‘Kira…’
‘I’m sure they’re here.’
‘Peaches.’
Her gaze snapped to his. ‘What?’
‘I found one.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘You did?’
She crawled back to the letters still scattered on the floor and he handed her the one letter he could see with Edwin’s name and platoon number on it.
‘Dear Eddie,’ she read, spreading the letter out on her lap. ‘Your letters never fail to make me blush. I had to start reading them in private, because my sisters are always trying to read over my shoulder. But I don’t regret anything we did before you left and I’m happy the memories are keeping you warm while you’re gone. Please come back to me.’ Kira’s voice cracked on that line and she sniffed a little but kept going. ‘You’re the only boy for me. I miss you. All my love, Ellen.’
She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes.
‘I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Peaches,’ he teased, his voice soft.
She huffed. ‘I hide it well.’
‘I think it’s safe to assume Eddie didn’t kill Ellen.’
‘Definitely not.’
He crawled closer, leaning over the pile of love letters from Edwin to his beautiful wife. Kira lifted her face to him and he brushed his lips across her cheek. She sighed and his mouth found hers. Warm and soft and welcoming. A side of her no one else saw.
He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers, and when her gaze met his, the force of his desire hit him hard in the gut. Not just desire for her body, although that was back, too, but God, how he wished he could be the one for her.
‘Let’s go back downstairs. You’re freezing,’ he said, her practical needs the only thing he could care for right now. She let him pull her up after they carefully returned the letters to their box.
He carried the Christmas ornaments downstairs and led Kira back to the living room. He stoked the fire. He silently undressed first himself and then her, tossing their dusty clothes aside. He wrapped her in blankets and the warmth of his skin.
He kissed the fresh tears from her cheeks.
‘Ben?’
‘Yeah?’ he whispered as he dragged his lips across her throat. She trembled in his arms.
‘I’m glad you’re here.’ And he could hear the loneliness in her voice and he wanted to banish it forever.
Dangerous thoughts for a man who had to leave in two weeks.
‘Me, too.’
She reached between them and guided him to her and he eased into her wet heat again, even though she must be sore and so was he but they were running out of time and there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be.
He pushed deeper and she gasped, her fingers in his hair, her ankles digging into his back.
‘Yes,’ she whispered. And please, and don’t stop, and Ben, and yes, yes, yes. And he felt her tighten around him, the quickness of her pleasure surprising them both but she clung to him as it crested.
And then he found his, too, buried deep, his face pressed against the pulse rapidly beating against her throat. And for that brief moment she was his, and everything made sense.
Unfortunately, Logan never ran out of gas.
The rumble of his plow tore through the moment and Bennett vowed to never forgive the man for as long as he lived.
The snowstorm was officially over.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘Thanks, Santa.’ Kira shook the old man’s mittened hand and he actually ‘ho-ho-ho’d’ at her. She wasn’t entirely sure if he thought he was really Santa or not, but she wasn’t about to ask. He’d just spent the entire day in the cabin greeting dozens of sticky children, plenty of whom had screamed at the sight of him. The man had endured a lot in the name of Christmas joy. He could think whatever he wanted about himself, he’d just brought her a ton of business.
‘My pleasure, Ms. North.’ His eyes twinkled. Maybe he really was…
Kira shook her head. Owning this winter wonderland was making her nuts.
‘Drive safe!’ she called as Santa headed to his car.
The sun had set over an hour ago and the lights she’d strung up across the trees, twinkled merrily above her. Even a week later, the snow from the storm had stuck around, creating an ambience she couldn’t have paid for. And she had to admit, looking around at the lights and the trees and the happy families piling into cars blaring Christmas carols from the speakers, she almost didn’t hate Christmas. And she was sure as hell proud of what she’d built.
‘Hey, Peaches.’ The sound of Bennett’s voice pulled her attention to the window of the cabin where his face peered out at her. ‘Did Santa mean to leave this giant box of candy canes behind?’
‘Oh, yeah. He said we could keep them. Something about having his own special supply.’
Bennett chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. ‘That guy was bizarre.’
‘Very.’
