12 Gifts for Christmas

“Maybe sweet doesn’t quite fit anymore,” he murmured.

Mari knew he was laughing at her and it only made her angrier.

“I can’t believe anything could have tarnished that perfect-princess rep of yours,” he continued. “Honor student, homecoming queen, Goody Two-Shoes.”

“Do you have any idea what people were saying about me?” she asked, the memory of the gossip still making her cheeks burn. “Or worse, what they’re still saying?” She recalled the snarky ex-jock at the grocery store the previous day. “Just yesterday some jerk thought he’d get lucky by offering me a ride home.”

“You’re a gorgeous woman. I’m betting a lot of men want to give you a ride.” Declan’s brow creased and he shrugged. “Besides, all we did was kiss. What’s the big deal?”

All they did was kiss? Just the memory of that kiss had fueled years of passionate dreams.

Wait, he thought she was gorgeous? Mari resisted the urge to check her hair and unbutton her jacket so she didn’t look like a denim marshmallow. No! That’s how this had all started in the first place. Declan had said something sweet, she’d gotten flustered and accepted his offer of a ride, and the next thing she knew, he’d kissed her stupid and the entire school was claiming she’d slept with him.

“The word around town was that we did a lot more than kiss,” she said, trying to ignore the thrill tingling all her girly parts and making her squirm. “Everyone was saying that you gave me a lot more than a ride home.”

“Who cares what people gossip about,” Declan objected.

“My mother, for one.” At the time, her mother had been so upset by the rumors, she’d yelled at a woman—very publicly—for repeating them. Unfortunately, the woman had been her boss. Tongues were still wagging about the resulting fight. Mari’s mom had lost her job, her spot on the town council and had almost left Ponder Hill over the humiliation. She’d only just regained her financial footing last year.

“But now that you’re back, you can set the record straight,” she decided. That’d be perfect. The wicked Cole boy would not only put Mari’s reputation right, but he’d also redeem her mother’s actions. Maybe then she could consider doing something about all of the wild sexual needs he was inspiring in her body.

“I don’t think so,” Declan returned with a shake of his head.

Mari stared. “You’re kidding, right? You have to tell people that nothing happened between us. It’s the right thing to do. You should have done it a long time ago.”

She didn’t know why he looked so pissed. She wasn’t asking him to lie. Just to make it clear that she hadn’t thanked him for a ride home by handing over her panties.

“Obviously you’re the one tuned in to all the gossip, so you tell me. When has anyone said I do the right thing?”

Never. Mari huffed out a breath. “So? This can be your first time.”

“Darlin’, there’s only one first time I’m interested in between us. And it has nothing to do with talking.”

CHAPTER FOUR

DECLAN didn’t know why he was being such a hard-ass about denying the rumor. Maybe because he realized a defense was pointless, especially after all this time.

Or maybe it was because a denial would only stir up the gossips. They’d rehash his rep. Talk a lot of shit, dredge up the past and before he knew it, his choice as to whether or not to stay in town would be made for him.

Though deep down, he acknowledged that none of that was true. He’d never cared about what other people thought of him. What bothered him was that Mari was ashamed to have kissed him. Especially when he was desperately craving another taste of her delicious mouth.

“You’re bad,” she said. But she didn’t sound disgusted. More … intrigued. That curiosity was as sexy as her very kissable mouth. He wanted her like crazy.

Declan had learned a lot about self-control over the years. He understood now that he couldn’t always have what he wanted. But Mari made him think of tossing all that out the window and kissing her senseless right here on his aunt’s driveway. In fact, he was liking that idea more and more.

“If you’re gonna worry about gossip, we should really give people something to talk about.”

He gave her his wickedest grin. When she didn’t run, he reached out, slid both hands up her arms and pulled her close.

Not close enough, since she was wrapped in twenty layers of fabric, but still within kissing distance.

Her pretty blue eyes rounded so big, her lush black lashes almost hit her eyebrows as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Delicious.

Heat surged. Even though he wanted to devour her mouth, he kept the kiss whisper-soft, with barely a hint of pressure.

He expected her to push him away. He just hoped he’d get one good taste before she did.

The last thing he figured she’d do was kiss him back.

Her tongue met his, spearing fire through his body. Damn, he loved being wrong. Mari’s mouth was a sweetly addicting nectar and after just one taste, he was hooked.

Their lips slipped together like they were made for each other. A perfect fit, Declan thought as he glided his tongue along the delicate seam of her lips, imagining other seams, other lips, other hot kisses as she gasped and opened to him.

Their tongues tangled in a hot, frantic dance. Her fingers gripped his arms, nails digging into his biceps in a way that made him groan. He slipped his hands down to cup her butt, then, remembering they were in his aunt’s driveway, he quickly moved them back to her waist.

After a few more incredible seconds, he gave in to the soft pressure of her hands on his shoulders and pulled back to stare at Mari. Her eyes were a misty blue, fogged with desire and, he was pleased to see, sexual curiosity.

He was looking forward to answering any questions she might have.

“Was that an agreement?” she asked breathlessly. “Your way of saying you were sorry and you’ll help me out?”

The heat in his blood cooled instantly. “Is that why you kissed me? To convince me to do what you wanted?” he demanded.

CHAPTER FIVE

“THAT wasn’t what I was trying to do.” Mari’s head was spinning; she could barely think straight. Her lips still tingled, sending waves of molten heat swirling down to her belly.

When Mari was sixteen, Declan had given her the best kiss of her life. It’d set a high bar for every brush of the lips she’d had since. It’d taken until she was twenty-four for anyone to raise that bar. Didn’t it just figure it’d be him again?

“We shouldn’t have kissed,” she decided breathlessly. “There’s no way anyone will believe your denial if we’re seen making out again.”

“They wouldn’t believe me if I hauled out film footage and played it at the movie theater, darlin’. And since there’s no point wasting our time trying to convince them, let’s focus on something else.”

Mari was getting a pretty strong clue just exactly what he wanted to focus on, too. His hands traced a path down her spine to settle under her coat on the small of her back. Despite the cold, his palms warmed her hips as he pressed her closer.

She breathed in his scent, male and inviting. The contrast of his hot body and the cool air only added to the surreal sensation as her brain once again checked out and she stood on tiptoe to meet his descending mouth. His lips were soft, his tongue teasing as he coaxed the heat up a couple hundred degrees.

He was so freaking delicious. As long as he kept on kissing her, she didn’t care what people said.

She heard the sound of a car starting up somewhere in the distance. As if she’d been set on fire, Mari ripped her mouth from Declan’s and jumped back.

So much for not caring. The look Declan gave her—part exasperation, part disappointment—made it clear he knew the reason behind her abrupt movement.

She bristled, her chin shifting higher.

“I’m not trying to deny my part in that kiss. Or to claim it wasn’t …” Incredible. Sexy as hell. Orgasm on a stick. “ … nice … But we barely know each other. We haven’t spoken in years, so I just think it’s a little too soon to get that familiar. Okay?”

He arched a brow. “And when do you think it’ll be soon enough?”

Mari bit her lip, wanting to say that two more seconds would be plenty of time. But she couldn’t. She had returned to Ponder Hill to start a new life for herself. To build a business and become a part of the community, something she’d missed in the hustle and bustle of California living. And she was pretty sure the community wouldn’t embrace their new hairdresser getting hot and heavy with the town bad boy up against a plywood donkey. And she knew her mother definitely wouldn’t.

“I think we’re getting sidetracked,” she hedged, needing to get this back on topic. “I came over to talk to you about those rumors, remember?”

“I’ve got things to do,” he snorted, obviously feeling a little pissy. “You ever stop worrying about other people’s opinions, you give me a yell. Otherwise, let’s call that our second kiss goodbye.”

CHAPTER SIX

PRETENDING he wasn’t hurt, Declan turned back to the manger he’d just finished hammering together before Mari’s surprise visit. With a grunt, he lifted it upright and set it on the cement to make sure it was even.

“You’re working on the holiday contest entry?” she asked. He could hear by her tone that she was fishing around for a safe topic. Probably to give herself time to figure out another way to nag him into a town confession.

Declan set his teeth and kept his attention on the eight-foot wooden display, ignoring the frustration—sexual and otherwise—clawing through his system.

“Yeah. This is the Coles’ year to win,” he declared, grabbing a file from his toolbox. Wincing a little, he crouched down to take a little off the right side so the manger stood steady.

“My mom was just saying she’d love to come in first this year,” Mari mused. “I promised her we’d enter together. I’m going to come up with a fun design and surprise her with it.”

Declan craned his head around to watch her poking at the various wooden pieces he’d built. Angels for the roof, sheep and cows for the yard. The structures for the living nativity Uncle Eric was choreographing for the town.

“Are you asking for my help?” He rubbed his chin, wondering at the ethics of aiding and abetting someone in competition with his family. Maybe if the design were different enough …?

“I already asked for your help and you turned me down, remember?” she said, giving him a saucy look. “I’ve decorated storefronts and windows before. I can win the decorating contest without you.”

“Darlin’, you haven’t got a chance,” he told her with a laugh. “I’m a professional carpenter. My aunt and uncle have been working on their design for months now. And the contest is in a matter of days. How do you expect to compete with that?”

The gleam in Mari’s pretty blue eyes made him twitchy.

They’d run in different circles back in high school—so different they might as well have been on separate planets—and neither of them had stuck around after. So Declan couldn’t claim he had a lot of knowledge about Mari Madison. But still, there were three things he did know.

She was gorgeous.

She was sweet.

And she was stubborn as hell.

That day he’d given her a ride home, it’d been because she’d been trying to change her own tire, despite the fact that she didn’t have a tire iron. She’d been so sure she could figure out some other way to get it fixed without having to call her mom away from work or incur a tow bill. He’d had to promise that he’d fix the tire before she got out of the rain and into his car.

“Anyone who’s a resident can enter the contest. And I plan to win. How I do it is up to me, isn’t it?” she returned with a smile so sweet it set off warning bells in his brain.

“What are you up to?”

“I’m just wondering if you’re game for a little bet?”

Intrigued, he tossed the file back in the toolbox and sunk his hands into his pockets, watching her carefully while she inspected the props, not looking at him. “What’s the wager?”

“I bet my display will beat yours in the contest.”

Declan laughed. “Yeah? And the stakes?”

She turned and met his eyes. “When I win, you tell the truth about us. And you do it in front of the whole town when they announce the winner of the decorating contest.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

MARI bit her lip as she looked away, scrutinizing Declan out of the corner of her eye while she tried to pretend she wasn’t anxious about his answer. She was also pretending she wasn’t checking out his package.

“And when I win?” he asked, his head tilted to one side so a lock of hair fell over his brow.

“What do you want?” she asked, shrugging like she didn’t care. She glanced at his hair again, her fingers twitching to touch the silken strands … among other things. “How about free haircuts for an entire year.”

“I doubt I’ll be here that long.”

“You’re not living in Ponder Hill?” Why had she thought he was? Mari frowned, noticing for the first time the Georgia plates on his truck.

“Nope. Which means my stakes should be a little more interesting. Especially since the contest competition is fierce this year. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

She’d decorated the salon she worked at for every holiday. And while she might not have much talent with a hammer, she was hell-on-wheels when it came to a hot-glue gun. She remembered the various displays from her childhood and gave a sharp nod.

“Of course I’m sure. But if you need any help, you just give me a holler.” She offered him her sassiest smile and pointed to her mother’s house. “I won’t be far.”

“Living with Mommy?” he teased.

“Just until I find an apartment.” She arched her brow toward the Coles’ ranch house and asked, “You bunking with your relatives?”

“Nah. They don’t need a third wheel. Besides, the girls are all coming home for the holidays, so the house will be full up.”

Mari thought of Declan’s three cousins. All gorgeous, all talented, all clever. She and Rita Mae had hung out once in a while, but Alison and Layla had been a couple years ahead of her.

“So where are you living?” she asked.

“At the old man’s place. It’s been empty for a few months and it’s a dump, but I plan to flip it.” His words were short, his tone closed.

She winced, remembering her mom mentioning Clayton Cole having cancer. He must not have made it. She’d have offered her sympathy, but she knew Declan didn’t want it.

Still, Mari’s heart melted a little. She’d always felt for Declan. Whereas so many people had whispered about what a wild child he was, she’d yearned to bring him home with her and hide him away in her bedroom where he’d be safe. Luckily, by the time she’d hit her teens and had grown brave enough to actually consider doing it, she’d also learned enough to know that if she brought Declan Cole into her bedroom, she’d be the one who wasn’t safe.

“So what about the bet?” she asked, doing them both a favor and changing the subject.

“The bet?” He met her gaze, the look in his green eyes so wicked she took an involuntary step back and wondered where she could find a chastity belt. “I’ll take the bet.”

“And your stakes?”

“You win, I give that speech you’re so desperate for.” After she nodded, he gave her a grin that almost melted her underwear. Then he continued, “And if I win, you make that rumor a reality.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ALMOST finished with the music stage, Declan hammered the last LED star in place on the header then climbed down from his ladder. As he descended, his gaze slipped across the street, like it did every five minutes or so.

After accepting his bet with a hot look and a nervous nod, Mari had skedaddled across the street and he hadn’t seen her since. It was driving him nuts.

“Hey, there, Declan Cole,” said a sultry voice behind him. “Talk about a holiday treat. When’d you roll back into town?”

Declan sighed. He should have known the ghost of girlfriends past would show up sooner or later. He turned, raising a brow at the sight.

Sylvie Ford apparently didn’t realize it was winter. Coatless, her low-cut top was plastered over a set of boobs that she hadn’t been sporting when he’d had the pleasure back in the day. Tight jeans tucked into knee-high boots made him wonder if she had a whip hidden in her pants. Big red hair, sharp brown eyes and a smile that told him she’d be glad to let him sample anything he saw completed the familiar package.

Mari had been a thousand times sexier bundled in denim and those weird shoes.

“Sylvie,” he greeted cautiously.

“And you’re looking even better than ever,” Sylvie said,

stepping forward to press her double Ds against him. “I’m glad to see you again. We have a lot to catch up on.”

Not really. Declan just smiled and retreated, glancing past her at the other woman leaning against a beat-up old Toyota.

“Dec,” greeted the quiet brunette with a sheepish smile.

“Hey, Robin,” he said, not surprised to see the other woman was still in Sylvie’s shadow. “How’ve you been?”

Before Robin could answer, the redhead stepped between them again.

“I heard you were helping out your aunt and uncle with the contest this year,” Sylvie said, trailing one of her talons down his chest.

His body cooling rapidly now that he wasn’t working, Declan edged away from her questing fingers and grabbed his coat. Shrugging into the extra layer of protection—from more than the chill—he glanced at the almost finished display. Nothing like the houses he usually built, but it still filled him with a comfortable sort of pride.

“That’s right. My aunt and uncle have a great idea, they just needed a little of my woodworking expertise.”

“You’re wasting your time. My daddy always wins the holiday contest. You know that. He claims it’s because I dress up as an angel and wave at the judges.”

Declan grimaced. He remembered one year she’d shown him what she wore under that costume. He’d had a hell of a time getting those feathers out of his … stuff.

“This is a new year,” was all he said, though. “The Coles have got as much of a shot as anyone.”

“We’ll see,” Sylvie claimed with a friendly smile. “I just wanted to stop by and say hi. And to invite you to the party over at Mike’s Bar to kick off the season. I’ll save a seat for you, okay?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, knowing he wouldn’t go. Mike’s had been his father’s favorite drinking hole. Declan didn’t want to see it any more than he wanted to see Sylvie naked again.

Nope, the only woman he wanted to see naked was Mari, and Mari alone. He glanced across the street again, wondering where the hell she was.

CHAPTER NINE

MARI pulled into her mother’s driveway, glad to find Declan still hard at work across the street. She bounded out of her Jeep, ignoring the bags of decorations and supplies, and hurried over. She told herself it was to pitch her idea, not because she was becoming addicted to the zing of sexual excitement that he incited.

“Here to pay off your bet early?” Declan asked from his perch on a ladder. He’d finished the stage and was now adding touches of holiday glitz. It looked great. But hers was going to be better, she promised herself.

“I stopped by the town hall to enter the contest and got to visiting,” she responded. Mostly she’d been scoping out possible customers. Even though she’d rented her salon space, she wasn’t starting work until after the first of the year. But it never hurt to promote the business a little.

And, she admitted to herself, to see if people were still talking about her, Declan and her mother.

Which they were. She squared her shoulders, knowing she needed to use that as motivation to win this contest instead of pouting over the unfairness of it all.

“Get any good gossip?” Declan taunted good-naturedly.

She wasn’t about to tell him that they were still good fodder for the rumor mill. She wished people would move on. And they would, once Declan confessed.

“The guy who was supposed to work on the gazebo in the town square got hurt last week,” she said instead. “Now the council needs a carpenter. You interested?”

“No.”

“C’mon. You’d be great. They could really use help.” And if she saved the day by hauling Declan in, she’d be one step closer to regaining her golden-girl status with the town. That meant good cheer, friendly faces … and paying customers.

“Nah. They don’t need me,” he said, going back to screwing some doodad into another thingamabob.

Mari frowned. “Really, they do. And I’ll do my part. I’m not so great with a hammer, but you can teach me.”

“Let’s put it this way,” he countered, still playing with his screwdriver, “they might want help, but they won’t want mine.”

Mari huffed, sending a puff of chilled air around her head like smoke. She was fully aware that the town had treated him like crap. But if he’d just put in some time with them, everyone would see what a great guy he was and quit judging him by his past.

“How do you know that?” she asked in exasperation.

“If they wanted my skills, they’d ask me.”

His words were reasonable. His tone was mellow. So why did she think this was a huge deal for him?

“I’m asking you to help.”

“Not a good idea. Don’t you remember what happened the last time you ended up associated with me? If I recall, you are still trying to wash that stain away.”

Mari rolled her eyes.

“You should quit being so stubborn,” she warned. “Don’t forget, Santa keeps track of whether you’ve been naughty or nice.”

Declan’s laugh filled her with a lusty sort of joy. The kind that said he’d make her laugh just before he sent her screaming over that delicious edge of ecstasy.

“Darlin’, haven’t you heard? Naughty is nice.”

CHAPTER TEN

WITH a real smile on his face for the first time since he’d pulled into town, Declan backed his truck out of his father’s driveway, waving to the elderly neighbor, Mr. Roberts, as he went. The old guy gave him a suspicious look, but lifted his hand in return.

Was the town over his past indiscretions? Mari said they were—she was pushing him to donate an hour or two of swinging his hammer, and encouraged him to ask around about jobs and feel out the possibilities of sticking around. For a girl who was still running from rumors, she sure had a lot of faith in his ability to face them down.

Then again, maybe she just wanted to hang with him. He liked that idea. Especially since he wanted to spend a whole lot of time with her. The woman made him feel things … incredibly sexy, oddly sentimental and just plain good around her.

He drove into his uncle’s driveway and parked behind his ‘57 Chevy. He hopped out of his truck, excited to get started. And not just on the display.

Then he stopped so fast the coffee in his to-go cup splashed all over his fingers. He ignored the sting, staring in disbelief at the mess that’d been a music stage when he’d left the day before. Puddles of paint had congealed over the splintered wood littered across the lawn.

“I was just gonna call you,” Uncle Eric said as he came around the side of the house, his face set in grim anger. “Looks like someone got here before we did.”

Fury surged through Declan. His fist clenched on his toolbox as he battled the urge to send it flying into what was left of his display.

“Any idea who’d pull something like this?” Eric asked, adding his glare to the mess.

“Just one,” he muttered, his eyes cutting to the cozy little house across the street. Sometime since he’d gone home the evening before, Mari had strung lights around the house and decorated the huge pine in the yard.