Small Town Christmas

Chapter 1

“Merry Christmas,” Sandy Jansen murmured to herself, staring in her office mirror. She closed her eyes, trying to avoid the sadness in her own reflection. She loved Christmas, loved the decorations, loved the festivities, loved the joy of the entire season, but this year that joy was sorely lacking.

It had been for five months, ever since the day she’d watched Logan Perrish’s very fine ass walk out of her life.

It was silly because she’d known he was just a fling. Hell, it’d even been her idea. But she hadn’t known that she’d miss the NASCAR star as much as she had.

Or that all these months later, she’d still remember his smile, his warm, dark eyes, how she’d melted at the sight of him. And when he’d touched her… well. She’d gone up in flames for him, all of her, including her damn heart.

Sandy opened her eyes but didn’t meet her own gaze again. Instead she looked at the rest of her. As the town clerk of Lucky Harbor, she’d come to the annual employee Christmas cocktail party in a cute little red dress, her “holiday” dress, which never failed to cheer her up. Being all of five foot two was a bit of a problem, but her four-inch Manolo knockoffs helped.

What hadn’t helped her was the costume she now had on over her sexy little red dress, complete with a stuffed belly and butt, white beard and wig, red fur-lined hat, and the final touch, thick wire-rimmed glasses.

Santa Claus.

From outside her office and down the hall, there was only silence. The party had emptied out, leaving her alone in the building. Tomorrow night, Christmas Eve, everyone in town would be here for the annual Christmas parade, which Santa would head up in the same 1972 Buick convertible, aka rust bucket, that they’d been using for years. The evening would culminate at the end of the pier, with all the kids lining up to sit on Santa’s lap so they could whisper their holiday wish.

Sandy’s wish, if anyone had asked, would be that Anderson hadn’t caught the flu so he could play Santa as planned. She’d tried to get a last-minute replacement, oh how she’d tried. But Jax Cullen, Lucky Harbor’s mayor, was master of ceremonies of the parade. Ford Walker and resident hottie had taken his new fiancée to Palm Springs for a holiday getaway. Sandy’s third and final choice, Sheriff Sawyer Thompson, was going to be on duty at the parade, handling crowd control.

There was no one else to ask, which panicked Sandy. No one but her… She took her roll of town clerk very seriously, but this… this was going over and above the call of duty. Yet all she could think of was the kids of Lucky Harbor, and how disappointed they’d be without Santa. Dammit. She sighed and took one last look at herself. She did actually look a little bit like Santa, albeit a very short one.

“You, Sandy Jansen,” she told her reflection. “Are a sucker.”

The biggest. And she had a broken heart to prove it. With a sigh, she reached around behind her to unzip the Santa costume, but the zipper wouldn’t budge. She tried again. And then again. “Really?” she said to the room in general, most specifically to her karma. “Are you kidding me?”

Karma wasn’t listening. The zipper was stuck.

“Dammit,” she said, and tried again to no avail. “Well, isn’t this just perfect.” With an eye roll, she snatched up her purse and her keys and headed out into the night, hoping a neighbor was still up. But if anyone so much as smiled at this I Love Lucy predicament, Sandy was going to smack them. “Christmas,” she muttered, but it wasn’t annoyance she felt so much as bone-deep sadness. Her family was back East. She didn’t have a date, and she felt… alone. It was a feeling that someone who’d grown up as the nerd, the bookworm in a family of charismatic, outgoing people, should be familiar with by now. Shaking her head at herself, she hurried out to her car, her heels clicking on the asphalt, and she realized how she must look in the Santa costume-with her heels.

Santa in drag…

Good thing she was all alone. Except she wasn’t.

The lot was empty but for her rundown Toyota and another car, a convertible BMW.

And leaning against her car as if he belonged there was the cool, sophisticated, gorgeous Logan Perrish, as if she’d conjured him out of her nightly fantasies. Except in her nightly fantasies, he returned her rambling but heartfelt e-mails…

Clearly she was hallucinating. Because no way would karma be so cruel as to stick her in the Santa costume and then produce the man who’d crushed her.

“Sandy?”

At the low, almost unbearably familiar voice that she’d expected to never hear again, she dropped her keys. To give herself a desperately needed moment, she bent over, and her hat and wig fell off. What were the chances he’d believe she really was Santa?

“Sandy.”

Dammit! Oh, how she wished she could turn back time. Because then, when she’d gotten that sexy “hey, babe” voice mail message a few days after he’d left, she wouldn’t have then poured her heart out to him via e-mail.

To which he’d never responded…

She scooped up both the hat and the keys and hugged them to her padded belly as she straightened and shook her head wildly. Nope, not Sandy. No Sandy here-

“It is. It’s you,” he murmured, and then laughed.

Which settled it. He’d hurt her and laughed at her. She tended toward a mild-mannered and easygoing temperament, but this was too much for her. She was going to have to kill him.

Chapter 2

Logan pushed off of Sandy’s car and shook his head. He couldn’t believe it when, through the mist of the frosty night, came a very short, round Santa, wobbling through the lot toward Sandy’s car.

In four-inch FMPs.

It hadn’t been until Santa dropped the hat and wig that he realized he recognized that wavy mass of dark hair. Choking out a laugh, he took a step toward her. His smiled faded when she just stared at him. Her baby blues, usually so soft and warm, were putting out a chill to rival the December night air.

Not exactly the welcome he’d envisioned. And he had envisioned. His fantasies had involved her throwing herself at him, and shortly thereafter divesting them both of all clothing.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Hmm. That didn’t sound like she was gearing up to throw herself at him at all, much less anything indecent after that. Logan looked at her thoughtfully, rubbing his jaw. In his world, decisions were made in split seconds. Sandy had always made him want to slow down and enjoy. Take his time… It was to his shame that he hadn’t realized how much she meant to him until he left Lucky Harbor.

He was going to have to leave again, but not until he’d made her his. Which apparently wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought. He took another step toward her, but her hand came up, eyes flashing, and she pointed at him. “No. Do not touch me.”

They’d spent a week together, during which she’d spent a fair amount of time begging him to touch her. He’d loved touching her. In fact, he’d spent seven long nights doing just that… every inch.

Logan wasn’t unsure of much. Of anything, really, not that he could think of. Things tended to go his way. Sure, there’d been a failure or two along the way, and disappointments, even heartbreak.

But mostly things fell right into his lap. His mom had always told him it was because he was the last of seven kids, born early. He’d been in a rush to get ahead of the pack from the get-go, and that had never changed. Which is what made the sweet, warm Sandy Jansen so confusing. He’d wanted her, he’d had her, and that should have been the end of the story.

Except that after their one-week, holy-shit-hot affair, he’d left Lucky Harbor, gone back to the racing world, and then proceeded to do nothing but think of her. He’d called her. What had he said? Hell, he couldn’t remember. Probably just “hey,” but she hadn’t returned the call. He’d had his manager send a round-trip ticket to his next race, but she hadn’t shown up.

He could admit, he’d been surprised. Disconcerted.

And utterly bewildered.

People called him back. Women called him back. He’d busied himself with his season, telling himself it didn’t matter. There were other women, lots of them.

But not a single one had attracted him. It’d been five months since he’d seen or heard from Sandy, and he should have been over it, but he wasn’t. So he’d come to see why…

Sexy Claus was tugging at something behind her, and swearing the air blue. “Goddamn, stupid, shitty, crappy, piece-of-shit zipper…”

“Do you kiss Mrs. Claus with that mouth?” he teased.

She stopped wriggling and narrowed her eyes at him.

Okay, so she wasn’t amused. He’d figured they’d be naked by now, sweaty and working their way toward round two.

And three…

“Need help?” he asked.

“Not from you.”

There was no one else in the parking lot. Across the street was the diner and the pier, and that lot was full. There was a group of Christmas carolers standing outside the diner, doing a rowdy rendition of “Jingle Bells.”

Sandy yanked off the wire-rimmed glasses and began to look more like herself. Well, except for that red suit, which was making her look wider than she was tall.

“And what are you even doing here?” she asked, but then, without waiting for an answer, she reached past him and unlocked her door, tossing in her purse, the Santa hat, and the wig. She tried to slide in behind the wheel, but she wouldn’t fit with her padded belly. “Cheese and rice!” she burst out, and with a deep sigh, dropped her head to the roof of her car and thunked it a few times.

“You’re going to rattle something loose,” Logan said.

She turned only her head and gave him an eat-shit-and-die look. “It’s been five months, Logan.”

Right to the heart. That was Sandy. She knew no other way. Out of all the women he’d known-and there’d been quite a few-she was the most open, the most direct. The most hardheaded. It was a huge part of the attraction for him, how she kept her own mind and didn’t take any shit from him. He dropped the smile and got serious. “I told you I’d be back.”

“Someday. You said you’d be back someday. You tell all the women that!”

Well, he’d meant it when he’d said it. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t. Maybe it had been a line, but he’d changed. From the moment he’d left her, he’d changed. Not that she wanted to hear that from him right now. “It was a busy season, and I couldn’t get away. If you’d have come to see me, this would have been a lot easier.”

“I didn’t want to be that girl.”

“What girl?”

She sighed. “The one who e-mails you her entire heart and then chases you around the whole frigging world.”

“I usually stay within the continental United States.”

This earned him another sigh.

Across the street, the carolers switched to “Oh Holy Night.”

“And what e-mail?” Logan asked.

“You know what e-mail,” she said, and she turned slightly, presenting him with her back. “Undo me.”

“Is this a sexual invitation?”

She craned her neck and eyed him long and hard.

Okay, not a sexual invitation. Got it. He gently stroked her hair from her nape and reached for the zipper of the Santa costume, brushing her creamy skin with his fingertips.

She shivered, and he went still. Coincidence? To test, he ran the pad of his thumb over the same spot, and she shivered again. Ah, he thought with a surge of fierce relief. She wasn’t completely over him, at least not yet. “I didn’t get any e-mails, Sandy.”

“Fine, so I went to spam. Whatever. I didn’t get any e-mails from you at all.”

This was true. He was more of an in-person sort of guy. “Know what I wished for from Santa?” he asked quietly.

She remained silent, but he knew by the stillness of her body that she was listening. She’d always listened to him, like no other. She’d listened, and she’d cared. He’d underestimated how much that meant to him. His fault. He’d clearly hurt her. Also his fault. But he was good at turning shit around.

“I wished for you,” he said, and slowly unzipped her. His heart caught as the costume opened, revealing more creamy skin.

And nothing else.

Her breathing quickened, and so did his.

“Logan,” she whispered.

“Yeah, babe?” Anything. God, anything you want. My car, my wallet, my life…

At the base of her spine, he ran into red silk. Before he could get any farther, she stepped clear and shrugged, and the Santa suit fell away, revealing the petite but lushly curved Sandy wearing a slinky red dress that made his mouth water. “There you are,” he managed.

“Thanks.” Bending, she scooped up the costume and shoved it into her car. “Appreciate it.”

“What are you doing now?” he asked.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now. Let’s go talk.”

“I have a very busy schedule,” she said. She glanced around her and narrowed her gaze on a group of carolers standing outside the diner across the street. “I’m supposed to be caroling. I have a date to be caroling.”

She was making that up right on the spot. He knew it. She knew it. “You have a date. Caroling.”

“That’s right. He’s probably over there right now, wondering why I’m standing here talking to you instead of holding his hand and singing with him.” She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You don’t believe I could get a date? Because I have lots of dates.”

She was warm, soft, sexy, and adorable. He believed she could date anyone she set her mind to. But no, he didn’t believe she had a date tonight, caroling. “You’d best hurry over there then. Looks like they’re getting ready to move on. I wouldn’t want you to stand anyone up.”

She lifted her chin to nose-bleed heights and crossed the street.

Logan remained where he was, watching. When Sandy walked up to the group of carolers, she glanced back.

He waved.

It was dark so he couldn’t be sure, but he thought maybe she bared her teeth at him before sidling up to one of the men. Then she glanced back again and shot Logan a “see?” look.

Logan gestured that she should do her thing. Sandy hesitated, then slipped her arm in the man’s.

This earned her a startled stare; then the guy disentangled himself and shifted closer to the man on the other side of him. That man then curled a possessive arm around Sandy’s “date,” and they both shifted away from her.

Logan grinned.

The carolers finished their song and moved on.

Sandy came back across the street, and without a word to him, slid behind the wheel of her car, clearly intending to leave. She was a speedy thing.

But he was speedier. He blocked her move by stepping close, one hand on the roof, the other on the door, as he crouched down to look into her face.

Her eyes met his and softened, but then she shook her head and closed them. “Okay, so I didn’t have a date tonight. Dammit.”

“Sandy.”

With a sigh, she opened them again, and leveled him with those killer baby blues, which were filled with a shocking, staggering sadness. “Hey,” he said gently, and unable to help himself, leaned in and kissed her lightly. “Missed you.”

“Oh, Logan,” she whispered, as if maybe she’d missed him too, but there was something in her voice that disturbed him.

She didn’t believe him. “I should have told you sooner,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you. Wanting you.”

“So this is what, a booty call?”

“I wanted to see you,” he said, smart enough not to touch that question with a ten-foot pole.

“Your season’s over now, right? Everyone’s off for Christmas, and you got bored. You were probably on the West Coast visiting your San Francisco relatives, so you thought why the hell not look up that cute little brunette you hooked up with from Lucky Harbor because she was easy enough?”

He stared at her, stunned that she’d think that. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” And he pulled her into his arms and kissed her to prove it.

Chapter 3

One moment, Sandy was sitting there behind the wheel of her car in her righteous resentment, and the next, Logan’s lips had covered hers. His hand cupped her jaw, and he sucked hungrily on her bottom lip, like a starving man in search of a meal.

Confused, dizzy, and extremely turned on, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed even closer. Logan answered with a low, rough groan and stood up, pulling her out of the car with him. He threaded his fingers into her hair while his other arm slid around her hips, hauling her up onto her tiptoes for a better lineup of their parts.

And, oh Lord, how their parts lined up.

She heard herself moan with the sheer pleasure of his hard body. He broke the kiss to stare down at her with a triumphant gleam.

“What was that?” she demanded.

“A reminder of what we had.”

“What we had was a fling,” Sandy said. “A very hot, wonderful fling, but then you left.”

“I had contractual obligations,” he reminded her. “And you’re not remembering all of it.” He brushed his lips across hers. “We said we’d keep in touch because we had something.”

“Chemistry.”

“Yeah. Let me remind you just how much.”

This kiss was deeper, hotter, and far more intimate as he opened his mouth over hers. She told herself to shove him away, to regain some badly needed dignity, but her brain sent the wrong message to her fingertips, and she hauled him closer instead, pushing herself against him. He was hard. Everywhere. She was on the edge, and he’d barely touched her. This did not say much about her will to resist him.

And truth be told, she had just about forgotten why she wanted to.

Because he made you fall for him-hard-and then he walked his sweet ass right out of your life. It hit her like a bucket of cold water. She unfisted her hands from his shirt and gave him a push.

Logan stepped back and looked at her from beneath his sexy, hooded eyes.

“Don’t do that,” she said, annoyed at her own breathlessness.

“Don’t kiss you?”

“Don’t kiss me. Don’t touch me.”

He smiled. “Because you can’t resist me?”

His smile weakened her knees. She gave him another push and then slid into her car again. “And don’t do that either.”

“Talk?”

“Smile.” She turned the key and started her car. “In fact, don’t anything in my presence. Go back to your bigger-than-life world, where women drape their panties on your hotel room doorknob and scream your name and want to be with you.”

“I don’t want to be with any of them. It’s Christmas, and I want to be with you.”

But could she really believe that? “You should go home, Logan.”

He was quiet, too quiet, and she made the mistake of looking at him. He was standing there all leanly muscled and gorgeous by moonlight. “That’s the thing, Sandy,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I am home.”

Until the season starts up again, she told herself, and revved her engine. “Stand back. I don’t want to run over your foot.”

Not a stupid man by any means, he took a step back, but his eyes never left hers. “I’m going to prove myself to you, Sandy.”

Afraid of him doing just that, she hit the gas and drove off into the night. Don’t look back…

She totally looked back. Logan was standing in the middle of the lot watching her go.

Sandy spent the evening staring at her bedroom ceiling, her body bereft and achy, like she’d betrayed it by not taking Logan home with her.

Sleep, she ordered herself. Concentrate.

But the truth was, she hadn’t been able to concentrate in months. Sleeping through the night had become a forgotten luxury. Instead, she’d toss and turn, remembering the feel of Logan’s hands and mouth on her body, and how he’d made her burn for him…

You could be burning right now, instead of lying here staring at the ceiling.

Ignoring herself, she gave up trying to sleep and showered, then drove to work. She pulled into the lot and blinked in surprise. The old ’72 Buick was gone, replaced by a… BMW.

She stared at it, then strode into the building. “Where’s the Buick?” she asked Kali, the front-desk clerk.

Kali was twenty-four, an avid snowboarder who supported her habit with this minimum-wage position, along with her minimum experience. She was quivering with excitement. “I can’t tell you.”

“Excuse me?”

Kali flipped her cute blond ponytail to the left and then the right, and when she’d satisfied herself that no one was looking or listening, she leaned close and whispered, “He paid me not to tell you.”

Sandy already knew damn well who “he” was, but she asked anyway. “Who paid you not to tell me what?”

“Well, not me exactly…” Kali swiveled her chair and pointed to the side counter, which was set up with three large money jars, each for a different charity, the Humane Society, the senior center, and disabled athletes.

Each was full. Shocked, Sandy moved closer. “Oh my God.” Each jar had been crammed with money.

“And those aren’t just one-dollar bills, either,” Kali said in an awed whisper. “Those are twenties. He said he’d have done it in hundreds, but the bank wasn’t prepared to give him that many hundreds on such short notice.”

Sandy’s eyes narrowed as a bad feeling came over her. “He.”

Kali smiled. “The cutest guy in the history of all cute guys.” From her desk, she pulled out last week’s People magazine and opened it to the Star Track page. There was Logan in full color in his racing gear, hot, sweaty, gorgeous… holding up a trophy and giving the grin that never failed to melt her panties.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no… this was bad. “Logan,” she hissed through her teeth.

“Yes!” Kali beamed at her. “Got it in one.”

He was just trying to impress her with the charity jars, she told herself. That was all. And he had more money than God himself, so it wasn’t like he’d done that much.

Except stay up all night and get the old Buick piece-of-shit towed away.

Replace it with his BMW.

Go to the bank and clean them out of twenties.

And stuff the charity money jars full. “Kali, you have one thing to do today.”

“What’s that?”

“Find me a Santa.”

Sandy was head deep in a mountain of paperwork at noon when sushi was delivered.

From a little place in Seattle, her favorite.

She eyed the small card that had come with it. She blew out a breath and opened it.

Sandy,

Enjoy.

Love, Logan.

Love? He wouldn’t know love if it bit him on his very fine ass. But then again, she admitted with a soft sigh, she wasn’t sure she would know love either. Mostly she preferred books or work over men, not that they were beating down her door.

All she knew was that Logan was back in town-for how long she had no idea. She couldn’t imagine it would be more than a few days-and she couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything but think of him.

She eyed the sushi, and her mouth watered. Okay, maybe she could eat, just a little…

Jax Cullen, town mayor and longtime friend, walked by her office and stopped, brows up. “You went out for sushi and didn’t ask me?”

Jax was leanly muscled and broad shouldered and… well, gorgeous. They’d almost had a thing once, a very long time ago, but they’d settled for a friendship, a comfortable one. “I didn’t go out,” she said. “This was delivered.”

“You have a secret admirer?”

“Not so secret. Logan’s back in town.”

Jax leaned against the doorway, settling in. “You going to admit to him that you’ve been pouting since he left?”

“Hell, no,” Sandy said.

“You going to admit to him that you’ve always wanted to stop being a small-town homebody and travel the world?”

“Hell, no.”

Jax shook his head. “Are you going to admit anything?”

“Would you?”

Jax smiled at that. “You suggesting I out-stubborn you?”

“I’m not suggesting,” she said. “I’m flat out saying it.”

“Yeah.” Jax nodded with a laugh. “Maybe. But I’ve changed my ways, and now I’ve got the woman I want in my bed every night. Change your ways, Sandy. He might surprise you.”

She wasn’t ready to go there. “Don’t let the door hit you on your very fine ass,” she said.

He laughed again and left, and Sandy spent the afternoon at her desk, with one ear glued for Kali’s footsteps to come down the hall and tell her that she’d located a Santa replacement.

“Nothing,” Kali said at the end of the day.

Sandy put her pen down. “Are you telling me that there’s not one man in this entire county willing to be Santa for the kids of Lucky Harbor?”

Kali rolled her lips together. “Um. Yes. No. I mean, not exactly.”

Sandy narrowed her eyes. “Then, what exactly?”

Kali covered her face. “Okay, so there was something else he paid me to do.” She said “he” like he was the second coming. “He paid me not to find you a Santa.”

This took a full moment to compute. “So… you didn’t make the calls.”

Kali bit her lip. “He said-”

“He who?” she asked, knowing damn well who.

“Logan. The one in my People magazine.”

“I know who he is, thank you.”

“Right.” Kali giggled.

Sandy worked on not completely losing her ever-loving mind. “So what was it?”

“What was what?”

“Why weren’t you supposed to find me a Santa?” Sandy asked with what she felt was remarkable calm, even though she wasn’t calm. Not even close to calm.

“It’s a secret,” Kali said; then with a softly uttered apology, she whirled and ran off. “See you at the parade in an hour!” she yelled back.

Sandy turned and stared at the costume in the corner chair. She was wearing her favorite emerald-green wraparound dress, but that was about to change. “Great. I’m going to be merry and fat for Christmas.”

“I think we can do better than that.”

With a startled gasp, Sandy whirled to find Logan lounging in her doorway, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Logan.”

His eyes heated. “You look like a Christmas treat. Good enough to eat.”

She pointed at him. “No. No charming me, remember?”

“You said no talking, touching, kissing.” He pushed off the doorjamb and stalked her across the office. “You didn’t say anything about charming.”

Well, shit. She was in big trouble.

Chapter 4

Logan didn’t have to get any closer to Sandy to see that she was stressed, anxious, and exhausted. Poor baby needed some TLC, and he was just the man to give it to her.

“This isn’t going to work,” Sandy told him, backing away as he advanced. When she nearly tripped over her own office chair, he put his hands on her hips to hold her steady. Surprised to find her quivering beneath his touch, he softened his hold. “Sandy,” he murmured softly while brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek.

“You can’t charm me.” She shook her head from side to side. “You can’t.” She fisted her hands in his shirt and glared up at him, her eyes huge and wide. “I don’t have time to be charmed, Logan!”

“I know.” He ran his hands up and down her arms. “I know.”

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but having Kali not get me a Santa… There are kids out there. Kids, Logan, and they came to see Santa. So no matter what the hell you think you’re doing here playing with me, I can’t have it, not now. You’re not what I need right now.”

“I’m exactly what you need.”

She stared up at him, then dropped her head to his chest with a little moan. Because he couldn’t help himself, he stroked a hand down her slim back and brushed his cheek along her hair, loving the scent of her, the feel of her against him. “I’ll prove it,” he said.

“What?” She lifted her head and leveled him with her pretty eyes.

He slid his fingers into her hair and stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. God, he’d missed the feel of her skin. The way she looked at him. How she challenged him at every turn, treating him like…

A regular guy. “I’ll prove it,” he said again. “That I’m exactly what you need.” He gestured to the Santa suit lying lifeless in her spare chair.

She stared at it, then at him. “You? But you’re a national celebrity, and you’re… gorgeous, and you have a lot of really good qualities, but sweet isn’t one of them, and-”

He yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it to her desk.

She abruptly stopped talking and stared at him.

Nice to know that he had that power. He kicked off his shoes, unbuckled his belt and slid it out, tossing it down on his shirt.

Sandy’s mouth was open, as if maybe she needed it that way to breathe. “Um…”

He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and shoved them down, kicking them off. She took in his only item of clothing left-black knit boxers-and drew in a shaky breath. She seemed to like what she saw. Ditto. Maybe he did have a few good qualities as she’d pointed out, but if that was true, she was his best quality.

The very best.

And he couldn’t lose her.

“Logan?” she whispered, her eyes glued to his body in a way that was working for him. So was her new breathlessness.

“Toss me the Santa suit, babe.”

She didn’t move.

“Sandy?”

She nibbled on her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth, making it all plump, her eyes locked on his abs-which wasn’t even his best part. “Hmm?”

“The Santa suit.”

She blinked, then jerked her eyes to his. “You’re actually going to wear the Santa suit. For me.”

She sounded bowled over at this, so utterly shocked that he felt a tightening in his chest. Hadn’t anyone ever offered to do something nice for her? “Yeah. I’m going to wear the Santa suit.”

“It’s going to be cold on the pier. Don’t you think you should leave your clothes on?”

Yeah, he probably should have. “I was trying to make a statement.”

She shook her head, still looking bowled over. Because she wasn’t moving, he walked by her and grabbed the suit, pulling it on.

It was thick and itchy. And Christ, what was up with the fat belly? “Santa needs a gym,” he said, looking down at himself. “And a whole hell lot less carbs and fat in his diet.”

Sandy snorted, then covered her mouth, still staring at him.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Hand still clamped over her mouth, she shook her head. Then she nodded. Yes. Yes, she was laughing at him. Her eyes were sparkling. She was smiling. She was beautiful. Leaning in, he kissed her on the end of her adorable nose. “You can trust me to have your back.”

She hesitated, then nodded, but he could tell she didn’t believe him, not wholly. That was okay. He was well used to proving himself, over and over again. It was one thing he could do and do well.

Or so he hoped. Because this wasn’t a race, and it wasn’t a game. Getting Sandy to believe in him, in them, was going to be the most important thing he’d ever done.

Sandy stood at the end of the parade, watching as the crowd celebrated and the kids rushed Santa.

Logan.

He was in the hat, glasses, wig, and beard, and he’d even let her redden his nose. The costume was too short for him, but they’d stuffed the hem of the red pants into the black boots to be less noticeable. The belly was over-the-top-hell, the whole thing was over-the-top-but Logan was completely immersed into the role.

It shocked her.

He shocked her. She had the world-famous NASCAR driver wearing a Santa costume for a small town he’d never even heard of until five months ago.

He isn’t for me. She’d finally convinced herself that he was too into his career and the glitz and glam world that went with it, that he’d never be interested in making anything work with a small-town girl like herself.

But then he’d shown up.

For how long?

He glanced up and looked at her with that soft, tender, heated expression, the one that told her that she was the only woman on his mind.

Her.

When he could have had anyone. He sat on the throne at the end of the pier that had been set up for Santa, complete with a faux winter wonderland and lights and all the decorations the evening called for. As Sandy mingled and made sure the line stayed in control and that everyone was enjoying themselves, she kept one eye on Logan. Kid after kid jumped into his lap and whispered their greatest wishes for Christmas morning.

He had a smile for each of them, and she had to admit, she couldn’t tear her eyes off of him. He was doing this, coming through for her like no one else ever had, and he was doing it with good grace and utter sweetness.

Realizing that the line had died down, she slowly walked toward him. The only part recognizable was his eyes. Eyes that tracked her approach.

He let out a slow smile. “Got a wish, little girl?”

Yes, for you to stay. “I’m a little old for wishes.”

His smile went from playful to serious. “You’re never too old for wishes.”

Chapter 5

Logan watched Sandy absorb his words and realized that she wanted to have faith in him; she wanted that badly.

But she wasn’t sure she could.

His own fault. He’d had things pretty fucking easy most of his life, and he knew it. He was spoiled, and he knew that, too. But now was the time to change, time to learn from his mistakes.

Time to work his ass off for what he wanted, for what really mattered.

And that was Sandy. She mattered. She was his.

She just didn’t know it yet.

She hadn’t had anything easy, ever. She gave so freely of herself to others, and she cared. Deeply. She wasn’t used to people noticing, but he noticed. He wanted to kiss away her worries and keep them away forever.

The crowd was gone. He gave her a “come here” crook of his finger, and she surprised him by sitting on his lap. “I can’t tell you my wish,” she said softly, hooking her arms around his neck. “Or it won’t come true.”

He would have liked to make her tell him. He could have done it too, sliding his hands under her dress until she lost herself. But he’d prefer somewhere far more private. Rising, he set her on her feet, stretching, going still when she laughed.

“You look like an old man,” she said.

“An old, fat man,” he corrected, and narrowed his eyes when she laughed again. Enjoying her amusement, he grabbed her hand. “In fact, I’m so old, you’d better take me home.” He led her up the pier to the BMW, which she stared at with open fascination. He knew for a fact that she had several speeding tickets and a few fender benders, so it was a real testament to his feelings for her when he handed her his keys.

She stared down at them in her hand, then lifted her face to his. “I can take it for a spin?”

“Yeah,” he said, sliding into the passenger seat. “Though I should have installed a three-point seat belt system.”

“You don’t have to let me do this.”

He knew she didn’t want to be in any more debt to him. But he was in debt to her, for opening his heart. “Just watch fifth gear,” he said. “It’s an instant ticket maker.”

“ ’Kay.” But she chirped out of the lot on two wheels, and he grabbed the “oh shit” bar. In a Santa costume and he’d lost his balls. She flashed him a wide grin that made putting his life in her hands worth every second.

Half an hour later, after tearing up the mountainous roads with wicked glee, Sandy pulled back into the pier lot and regretfully turned off the car. “Thanks for that, Logan. Thanks for everything. Tonight was-”

He leaned in and kissed her. Kissed her until she let out a soft little moan that went straight through him as she slid her arms around his neck. Cupping her face, he stared into her eyes and saw his own hunger reflected back at him, so he dove back into the kiss, plundering her mouth until they were both panting for air.

Invite me to your place, he wished on a Christmas spirit he wasn’t even sure he believed in. Invite me into your heart.

“Good night,” she whispered instead, starting to get out of the car.

He grabbed her wrist, meeting her gaze, unable to let her go.

“I’m running a soup kitchen at Vet’s Hall until midnight,” she said softly. “I’m the only one of my staff without family in town. I always do it. I’ve got to go.”

Slowly he released her and nodded. She got out of the car, walked to hers, and drove off into the night.

Logan drove to the Lucky Harbor B &B. He knew one of the owners well.

His ex-wife, Tara Daniels.

They’d burned hard and bright in their early twenties, back in his wild days. He’d been an ass then, and hadn’t any idea how to nurture a relationship, much less a woman.

Tara was Southern, a real Steel Magnolia. Tough as hell, with a soft, warm heart.

She’d forgiven him, and they’d even become friends, of all things. He sat with her in the B &B’s big, homey kitchen that she ran like a drill sergeant.

“Word around town is that you’re whipped,” she drawled.

“Whipped is such a strong word.”

She laughed at him. “Sugar, you’re here in Lucky Harbor, when you could be on a warm, deserted island with an assortment of babes. Give it up. You’ve finally fallen. Hard.”

He looked into her amused eyes and admitted defeat. Not easy for him. “I was a lousy bet in my twenties,” he said in way of apology to her, though she already knew this. “I screwed up, made mistakes. I’m better now. And I know what I want.”

“Don’t you even think about screwing this up,” Tara said. “Sandy’s a friend, a good one. She’s too sweet and kind for the likes of you.”

“I know.”

“You go after her this time, you have to keep her.”

“I know that, too,” he said, and pulled the small ring box from his pocket. He’d been carrying it around for a month now, ever since he’d realized he couldn’t live without her. “I wanted to wrap it in something she couldn’t resist. I was thinking something sweet. Can’t you make me a fruitcake or something?”

“Bless your heart,” Tara said. “But no one likes fruitcake. I’ll fix you up with just the thing. You’d best be sure, Logan Perrish. If you screw this up…”

“I won’t.” And God, how he hoped that was true.

It was twelve thirty a.m. before Sandy let herself into her house. Her place was high above the town on the bluffs. It was a tiny little thing, but she loved it because it was all hers.

Inside, she turned on the lights to her Christmas tree but nothing else. For a long moment, she just looked at the cute little tree, flickering for all it was worth. She very carefully avoided peeking beneath it, where there were no presents. Her family was all back East, but she couldn’t afford to go this year. Her parents had sent her a check, but she hadn’t bought herself anything yet. Now she wished she had. When her phone rang, she jumped, startled. It was Logan.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

She melted at the sound of his voice, even as her heart panged hard. She imagined he was already back in San Francisco, maybe celebrating with friends and family. “Same to you. How’s your Christmas so far?”

“To be determined. There’s a present at your door.”

“No,” she said. “I just came in…” Biting her lip, she whirled to the door and pulled it open.

Logan stood there with a smile brighter than her Christmas tree, one hand braced above him, the other holding his cell to his ear. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said breathlessly. Because she was a chronic idiot, she just stared at him. He shoved his cell phone into his pocket, and she walked into his arms. He wrapped them around her and kicked the door closed behind them as he eyed her tree. “It’s missing something.”

“It is not,” she said, insulted.

He set her loose and pulled a brightly wrapped present from his pocket and set it beneath the tree.

Her heart stopped. How had he known? She stared at the present, then dropped to her knees in front of it. “I bought myself a new hair straightener the other day. I almost wrapped it and stuck it beneath the tree just to have a present to unwrap on Christmas. This is much better.”

“Babe.” His voice was low, husky, and full of far too much understanding.

Her heart took a direct hit, and she busied herself with fixing an already perfectly placed decoration.

“Sandy, look at me.”

No. If she did, her mouth might run away with her good sense and ask how long he was sticking this time. Another week?

Less?

If she asked, he might feel the need to be honest, to remind her that come next season, he still had an entire world counting on him, a world that was far from here. It was also a world that she secretly yearned to see and experience-but how could she ask that of him? She knew she could have gone and seen him these past few months. She should have, but the truth was she wanted to go as his one woman, not as one of his women. And worse, if she looked at him, he’d see all of that along with her entire heart. That would be the biggest mistake of all.

Logan crouched before the woman he knew he’d never get enough of. She had her head bowed away from him, and she was breaking his heart. He reached for the box and handed it to her.

She pulled on the ribbon and gently tore away the paper, then sucked in a breath at the robin-blue Tiffany box. “Logan,” she breathed.

“Open it.”

She pulled off the lid and gasped, then lifted the diamond pendant necklace from the box. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, and her eyes filled.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Hey, it’s supposed to make you happy.”

She flashed a brilliant smile, if not a little soggy. “I am,” she assured him. “It’s just the most wonderful gift anyone’s ever given me.” She saw the card on the bottom of the box and reached for it.

For Sandy,

The only woman I want to be with for Christmas.

Love, Logan.

He took the necklace from her and placed it around her neck. She fisted her hand around the pendant and held it to her heart. “I love it, Logan. Thank you.”

“Looks good on you.” He looked at her for a moment, hoping she was starting to understand how serious he was. Cupping her face, he stared into her eyes, slowly leaned in, and caressed her mouth with his in a gentle kiss. “I have another present for you. I’ve had this one for a while.”

“No,” she said. “You’ve given me too much. It’s my turn to give you your present,” she whispered against his lips. “It’s wrapped and everything.” She took his hand in hers and brought it to the bow at her hip, the one that appeared to hold her wraparound dress together.

“Mmm,” he said, pulse leaping. “My favorite kind of present.” The bow came loose, and her dress fell away, revealing a black silk bra and thong, and the soft, curvy body he’d been dreaming about every night for six months. “Exactly what I wanted,” he whispered, and pulled her down to the rug.

Sprawled out over her, he felt his heart roll over, and his smile slowly faded. “Sandy, about the other present. I-”

“Later,” she murmured. “Much later.” And she pulled his head down to hers.

Chapter 6

Logan’s mouth ravaging hers again after all this time sent a thrill through Sandy. She’d accepted that she loved him, that this was what he had to give her, and for tonight, it was enough. It would have to be. So she dug her fingers into his shoulders and arched up into him.

She was rewarded when his mouth continued its quest to own hers, his tongue stroking in tune to his hands on her body, which felt like a tightly strung instrument, playing just for him.

Only for him.

“Tell me what you want, Sandy.”

She was pretty sure he didn’t want the answer to that, because the answer was everything. She wanted everything from him. “Well… you’re overdressed,” she managed to say, and tugged at his shirt.

He reared up and stripped out of his clothes, leaving nothing but muscle and sinew and testosterone wrapped up in sleek, smooth skin. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

He didn’t come back over her. Instead, he kneeled between her thighs and slowly slid her bra straps off her shoulders. “Tell me, Sandy…”

“I want you to keep going.”

He smiled, then reached beneath her with one hand and unhooked the clasp of her bra. “I am going to keep going.” He tossed the scrap of lace over his shoulder and then set his attention to her panties.

He removed those with his teeth.

She was panting by the time he crawled back up her body, touching every inch, following each of those touches by nips and kisses and licks of his tongue. She was panting, begging, and beyond desperate as he finally settled his weight over her.

With a moan, she arched her back, lifting herself to him. He smiled as if she’d given him the best Christmas present of his life, then went back to stoking her inner fire, caressing her until the flames consumed her, making her breath catch with each new touch. She wanted more, she wanted him, all of him, but hell if she’d beg.

For anything.

Then he stopped.

“What?” she gasped. There’d better be a fire…

“Just wanted to look at you.”

Oh, she thought, melting. Oh, damn. It had taken her five months to get over him, she still wasn’t over him, and now she wasn’t sure she wanted to be.

He leaned over her, his eyes telling her he could read her thoughts. “Trust me,” he said, his lips so close that they brushed hers as he spoke. “Trust me with you.”

She opened her mouth to tell him that she did, in spite of herself, she really did trust him, but he’d produced a condom and slid home and what came out was an erotic, sensual cry.

His attention was on her body, his gaze heating every inch of her skin as he trailed his fingers in a line from her breasts to her legs, which he wrapped around his hips. He slid in deep, and with a rough groan, dropped to his elbows so that he covered her completely. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and then his lips were on hers as he began to move.

She lost herself in the delicious, overwhelming sensations, unable to think or even remember the reasons she’d hesitated to let him love her again like this. His arms slid beneath her, pulling her even closer to him, plunging deep, then deeper still, until she burst. He went over the edge with her, pulsing inside her until they collapsed together, spent.

Afterward, he carried her to her bed and started over…

Much later, she snuggled in against him and everything was forgotten as she fell asleep. She awoke to the sun poking her in the eyes and panicked. It was eight o’clock on Christmas morning! She was supposed to be at the diner for the breakfast buffet. Everyone in town was coming and she was in charge. She tried to jump out of bed but found she couldn’t.

Because a very warm, tousled, leanly muscled man had her wrapped up tight in his arms. “Got to go!” she said, and kissed him on the jaw before shimmying loose.

He rolled over to catch her, but she was too fast, making quick work of pulling on jeans and a sweater. “I’m late!”

“It’s Christmas,” he said in a rough morning voice, and sexy as hell.

“Exactly!” She shoved her feet into boots, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door, but something bright nearly blinded her.

Her necklace.

She looked down at it, then at the naked man sprawled in her bed. “Thanks for last night.”

“And this morning?” he asked in that husky male morning voice that made her tremble.

They’d dozed and woken each other up somewhere around three a.m. to tear up her sheets again. Her thighs rubbed together, and she felt the slight sting of the whisker burn there. Her face heated. “That too.”

“I wanted to talk to you last night,” he said, rolling off the bed and coming toward her, completely unconcerned about his nudity.

And if she were him and looked that good, she’d be unconcerned too. “It’s okay,” she said, and patted his chest. “I understand now. We’re… explosive. I couldn’t resist you, and vice versa. No regrets, Logan.” And with a soft kiss, she left him alone.

And if maybe she shed a tear or two in the car on the way to the diner, well, no one had to know but her.

She arrived just in time. She jumped behind the counter to help the owner, Jan, and her waitress, Amy, serve the crowd. And it was a big crowd. Everyone was inhaling stacks of pancakes and eggs, and bacon and sausage, when suddenly the low level of mayhem ceased altogether as the diner door opened.

Sandy looked up just as Logan strode in.

The squeals of delight were genuine and real. The residents of Lucky Harbor had fallen in love with Logan on his first visit, all those months ago. Logan smiled but moved through the crowd, heading straight for Sandy. “Hope you don’t mind if I steal Sandy away for a second,” he said.

Sandy told herself to be brave, but she wasn’t feeling brave. She stood there in a bright red apron, a serving spoon in one hand and a coffee carafe in the other, and shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I’m busy.”

Logan looked at her for a long beat. He took the spoon from her hand and set it down, then did the same with the coffee. He cupped her face. “I’ve been trying to tell you something. But I’ll do it right here if I have to.”

Oh, God. He was going to end things now. She wasn’t ready. Maybe tomorrow she’d be ready. “No, that’s not necessary-”

“I know you thought this was just a fling. Hell, I thought this was just a fling. I wanted it to be. I wasn’t looking for this, and I sure as hell never wanted you to get hurt.”

Someone in the crowd “ahhed” at that.

Logan ignored it. “But there’s something about you, Sandy. Something that I just can’t get enough of. That was proven when I left here and thought of nothing but you.”

“You raced every weekend,” she murmured, trying not to think about their audience. “You were too busy to think of me.”

“Believe me, I had room to think of you no matter what I was doing. Just don’t tell my team. That sort of thing is frowned upon since it tends to get people killed.” He flashed a grin. “I would fly you out every weekend to ensure my safety, if you’d let me.”

Her heart felt instantly lightened, and now butterflies were bouncing off the walls of her stomach. The good kind of butterflies. “Oh my God.”

“Tell him you love him back!” someone yelled.

“Hurry, before he changes his mind!” someone else called out.

“How about hurry, my eggs are getting cold?” a third party griped.

Logan never took his eyes off Sandy. “I don’t want anyone’s eggs to get cold. Let’s speed this up.” He handed her the basket. “They’re peach muffins. Because apparently no one likes fruitcake.”

“What?”

He sighed and pulled out the muffins. Beneath, nestled in the bottom of the basket, was another Tiffany box, this one smaller than the first.

A ring box.

Her mouth fell open, and she slowly reached into the basket. Her fingers were shaking so badly that Logan took over and opened the box, revealing the diamond ring he’d picked out for her.

“There is no other woman for me,” he said. “You’re it, Sandy Jansen. You’re warm and sweet and kind and funny, and you make me feel like I’m more than just a good driver. You make me feel… everything.” He removed the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. “I love you,” he told her. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. I want you to marry me, even though you drive like a crazy person.”

There was a collective “ohmigod” around them, but Sandy paid them no mind. She stared at the ring, then up into his face, clearly stunned. “You do? Really?”

He was going to work on that, on making sure she never doubted or wondered how he felt. Ever. “I do.” He loved the dreamy look in her eyes, but she hadn’t said anything, and he was starting to feel a little bit like he was out in public without a stitch of clothing. He slid a look at their avid audience, then leaned in closer. “This is the part where maybe you could say you want me, too. I’ve kinda got my ass hanging out here. Say yes, and I’ll throw in the BMW. You know you love that thing as much as you love me.”

“Hey.” A little kid tapped Logan on the arm. “You look a lot like Santa.”

Sandy choked out a laugh and covered her mouth.

Logan looked down at the kid. “Santa already came this year. Did you get what you wanted?”

“Yeah,” the kid said, waving a handheld game. “Did you?”

“I don’t know.” Logan looked at Sandy. “Did I?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and threw herself at him. “You got everything you ever wanted. Forever.”

“Does this mean you love me, too?”

“It means I love you. With or without the BMW.” She waited a beat, grinning up at him mischievously. “But with is better.”