Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

The following afternoon, Hayden was gliding the sander over the table Gavin and Ginger commissioned him to build when Elle’s soft voice interrupted him.

“My God, Hayden. It’s a work of art.” Her tone was almost reverent.

He turned and smiled in gratitude. Not just for her comment, although he appreciated that her praise was genuine. What he felt was a profound wonder that after months of dreaming about it, their relationship was finally more than “just friends.”

Not only that, but she was sexy as hell seated cross-legged on the chintz loveseat that used to be in his grandparent’s living room. From his angle above her, he had a bird’s-eye view down the V-neck of her soft sweater. The sweater was decorated with Santas complete with puffy beards. All Hayden saw, though, was her soft, creamy skin. Just a peek at the top of her breasts had the zipper on his jeans growing painfully tight.

Her hair was piled up in a messy bun. A single strand stuck to her cheek. The dark circles beneath her eyes had disappeared, only to be replaced by a glowing warmth in her cheeks.

She had her laptop balanced on her thighs, typing away at one of the blogs for Chances Inlet, he assumed. Her bottom lip was shiny from her chewing on it while she wrote. He had to work to keep himself from turning into a Neanderthal and ravishing her right there on the sofa where his grandmother used to sit and watch Wheel of Fortune every night.

“Is that for my brother?”

Hayden was grateful for her question. It redirected his thoughts to more appropriate ones.

“It is. With its leaf, it will seat eight. Seems like overkill for a kitchen table.” He shrugged. “I guess they’re planning on a family the size of yours.”

“It’s weird to think of Gavin not living in his loft,” she said. “I mean, it was the prototype for the lofts he became famous for building in Tribeca. Now, he’ll be living on a golf course ten miles outside of Chances Inlet.”

“Considering he never intended to return to Chances Inlet at all, I’d say that him living ten miles away isn’t so bad.” Hayden swept the sawdust off the big table. “Come to think of it, none of your siblings ever wanted to make their home in the town where they grew up. Yet here they all are.”

It was her turn to shrug. “After they all made a name for themselves,” she said, dashing the kernel of hope blossoming in his chest.

Beula weaved around his legs as if to offer some comfort. Or to urge him to keep pressing her. The cat was fickle most days.

“You never planned on returning home, either,” Elle challenged.

She wasn’t lying. His plan was to head to Oregon after college to train with the elite distance runners. Hopefully, go to the Olympics. He’d come back to Chances Inlet for one of those cheesy parades after he won a medal. Maybe they’d name the high school track in his honor.

Instead, he was sent to a dusty, dangerous hellhole. Then to Texas to rehab his body and his mind. Returning to Chances Inlet felt like paradise after all he’d been through. Eight years later, it was the place he felt the most comfortable. Safe. No one asked him about his trauma. Best of all, he knew what to expect most days. Some people might call it boring, but Hayden wore that predictability like a suit of protective armor.

“We both had goals once,” he remarked.

She snorted. He was a perv because he found the sound to be incredibly sexy.

“Not me. Remember? I couldn’t come up with one besides making my family proud.”

“Your family has always been proud of you.”

“But not for something I’ve accomplished.” She held up her hand to stop his protest. “West called me a nepo baby when we first met. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. My reputation is based on the achievements of my family. The Fab Four. Is it so wrong to want to make a name for myself as Elle McAlister? Not just as one of ‘the McAlisters’?”

He shook his head. “You are making a name for yourself as a journalist. You already had several freelance articles published nationally when you were in college. You’re about to become a lifestyles columnist at Vantage . What am I missing?”

“It’s more about what I’m missing.” Elle sighed. “I’m not like Kate and Miles who knew what they wanted to do with their lives on the first day of kindergarten. Or Ryan with his ridiculous athletic ability. Or even Gavin, who made being a math geek cool. There was never anything that I just had to be doing to make myself happy.” She shrugged. “Writing has always come easy to me. But it was just something I did, you know? Tell stories. It’s not like I’m contributing to anything big in the grand scheme of things.”

He growled in frustration. “Your letters were the only things keeping me sane most days,” he told her. “When I was deployed and . . . those long months after.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “You never told me that,” she whispered. “You barely acknowledged that you even got them.”

Hayden walked over to the file cabinet he kept in the corner of the workshop. He pulled open the bottom drawer and took out an old shoebox. She had risen from the loveseat and stood right behind him when he turned around. He lifted the lid.

Elle gasped. “Are those my letters?”

“Mm-hmm.”

She fingered the envelopes carefully. “I—I . . .” Her eyes were shiny and stunned when they met his. “You kept them? All of them?”

“Yeah. I liked to reread them on days when . . .” Words failed him. There was only so much vulnerability he could show her.

On days when I didn’t want to try anymore.

On days when it felt like you were my only friend.

On days when I miss you so much, it hurts.

He had a sinking feeling he would be in for a lot of those days come the New Year.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, she took the box from his hands and carefully placed it on top of the file cabinet. Tentatively, she placed her palms on his chest. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. He fought to contain his groan. Her hands slid up to behind his neck.

“Oh, Hayden,” she murmured before stretching up on her toes and pressing her lips to his.

She kissed him tenderly, as though he might shatter. He didn’t want her gentleness. Not when it felt too much like pity.

He bit down on her lip before soothing it with his tongue. His fingers gripped her waist tightly as he walked her backward toward the table he’d just finished sanding. She gasped when her legs hit the edge of it. He slipped his palm under her sweater. His fingers traced the warm flush beginning to spread over her skin.

Nothing about her kiss was tender now. A wild keening sound slipped from the back of her throat when his thumb grazed her hard nipple. She pressed her hips against his. He lifted her onto the table as he pulled his mouth from hers.

Her eyes were wild, and her lips swollen when she reached for the hem of his T-shirt. Their arms tangled as he struggled with her sweater while she tried to work his shirt over his head. After some maneuvering, both pieces of clothing landed on the table beside her.

Elle kicked off her shoes as she fingered the button of his jeans. She froze when Hayden leaned down to suck her nipple pebbled against the satin of her bra. Her legs suddenly gripped his waist tightly. When she rubbed her core against his crotch, he nearly exploded right then and there.

He worked her bra over her head before leaning her back and laying her out on the table like a feast. Her long legs still had him in a vise grip. She panted frustrated breaths. Hayden pressed a kiss between her breasts. Her pulse pounded beneath his lips. He tugged at her leggings, but it was no use.

“Elle,” he pleaded. “Pants.”

She loosened her legs while sitting up to reach for the zipper of his jeans. He let out a pained hiss as she worked him free. With a breathy sigh, she shoved his briefs down below his ass, then shimmied out of her leggings and panties.

Hayden groaned like a wounded beast when she wrapped her fingers around his length and began to stroke him. Her legs were back around his waist, guiding him closer. He watched like some voyeur as she angled his length inside her. Her delighted moan was his undoing. Swearing violently, he pressed her back down onto the table with his body before ruthlessly pushing into her.

“Yes!” she cried.

Strands of her long hair were coming undone, their tips stirring up bits of sawdust as her head thrashed from side to side.

“Please, Hayden.” She clawed at the tabletop.

The pleasure built, and her muscles contracted around him. When he reached beneath her ass and tilted it to increase the friction, she shrieked. Her hips bucked frantically right before a silent scream left her lips, and she went limp. Elle was always beautiful to him, but he was suddenly in awe of how much more gorgeous she was when she came.

“Belle,” he whispered reverently.

Her eyes fluttered open. She gifted him with a grin that looked spellbound. “I love it when you call me that,” she whispered back.

It was as if she’d unlocked a secret vault of feelings that Hayden didn’t know existed. Or how to process. He was struggling to wrap his head around them when she squeezed her core tightly. His other head demanded he stop thinking and start acting. Propping his elbows on the table, he leaned over her.

“My Belle,” he grunted next to her ear.

She sighed words of agreement as he thrust into her several more times.

“My Belle!” he shouted as he finally came in a satisfying rush.

They were both breathing hard when the room began to come back into focus. Bits of sawdust clung to Elle’s skin. She giggled when he tried to brush them off her.

“I’ll never be able to eat a meal at Gavin and Ginger’s house after this,” she joked.

He touched his nose to hers. “Knowing Ginger’s lack of kitchen skills, that’s probably a good thing.”

They both laughed before a heavy silence settled over the room. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. He instantly recognized her tell. She was anxious about something. And he had a sneaking suspicion she was also having trouble making sense of the emotions swirling around them.

Elle brushed a piece of hair back from his forehead. “Hayden?—”

He distracted her with a kiss. “Let’s go inside and shower all that sawdust off you,” he murmured against her lips.

Her hands stilled against his back, and he said a little prayer she’d drop it for now. He sighed in relief when she dragged her fingers along his side.

“A shower sounds wonderful.”

Hayden was stretched out on the bed an hour later, watching Elle braid her wet hair, when a chime echoed throughout the house.

“Someone’s at the workshop.” He reluctantly got up, cursing whoever was interrupting them. “It’s probably Xander or Simone. I’ll get rid of them. I have plans for you this evening.” He nuzzled the spot on her neck where he’d left his mark earlier.

Her sigh was filled with relief. “I’m glad you went down and grabbed our clothes. I wouldn’t want a potential client finding my elf panties hanging from one of the chairs.”

He winked at her. “You have no idea how much those elf panties turn me on.”

The chime sounded again, and Elle swatted him on the ass. “Go get rid of whoever it is and put out the closed sign. Or else my elf panties are taking a walk.”

Hayden scrambled out the kitchen door and over to his workshop. Dusk was just beginning to blanket the little town. The Christmas lights he’d hung from the eaves of the old outbuilding glowed festive and welcoming against the weathered wood.

Perhaps he and Elle would get a Christmas tree tonight. He’d never bothered to put one up in previous years. But this Christmas felt a little different. Visions of them snuggling beside a twinkling tree, while watching holiday movies danced in his head.

He was whistling “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” when he opened the door. The tune died on his lips as soon as he saw who waited there.

“Livi.”

She aimed a bright smile at him. As usual, she was dressed impeccably in a pair of white wool pants and a matching sweater that featured a giant gold snowflake. Chunky gold jewelry complemented the look.

“It’s good to see you up and about,” he told her. And he meant it. He liked Livi. Just not the way he “liked” Elle. “What brings you by?”

Her expression dimmed a smidge. Had she expected a more exuberant greeting? Probably. He dragged his fingers through his hair. The last thing he wanted was to hurt this woman.

“I have a few potential clients for you,” she announced.

The news had him rocking back on his heels.

Livi pulled several pieces of paper from her leather satchel. She hesitated for a long moment before placing them on the table in the center of the room. Hayden held his breath, hoping there wasn’t an obvious butt print on the table’s edge.

“Um. One person is looking for a desk similar to the one I bought,” she said. “They want it made from walnut, however. Here are the dimensions they need. The other client would like a kitchen table.” She paused again as she gestured to Gavin and Ginger’s piece. “Modern farmhouse like this one.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

She smiled at him again. “You can work up the price estimates and get back to me.”

“Sure.”

They stood staring at each other, the strained silence becoming more awkward.

“Livi—” he began.

“Are we still on for the snowman-in-the-sand contest?” she asked at the same time.

“Uh . . .”

“You know what? You don’t have to answer me now. Patricia said you are pulling double duty while one of the deputies is sick.” She glanced down at her watch. “I have to get up to Wilmington. I’m headed back to Atlanta tonight to meet with the developers. I’ll be back in time for the contest next week. If you can’t make it, no worries.”

“Livi,” he repeated. He needed to tell her that friendship was the best he could offer her.

Except she wasn’t inclined to hear it. Almost as if she knew what was coming, she rushed over to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Gotta jet. See you when I get back into town.”

She was nearly to the door when she stopped short in front of the sofa. She pointed at the laptop on its cushion. “Is Elle here?”

Hayden’s palms began to sweat. There was no way he could deny the computer belonged to Elle. She’d decorated it with stickers that read “Hot Girls Read” and “Bookmarks Are For Quitters.”

“Um, no. She must have left it when she stopped by earlier,” he hedged.

Livi nodded while avoiding his eyes. “I’ve been looking all over town for her today. I had a tip on a shoe sale I wanted to share with her.” Her smile was a little forlorn when she finally did look back up. “If you see her, tell her I’ll catch up with her next week.”

With a stilted wave, she hurried out the door. Hayden blew out a breath. He spied the shoebox of Elle’s letters and quickly returned them to the file cabinet drawer. When he went to close Elle’s computer, his finger brushed the mouse pad, and the screen lit up. A website titled Lovell Woodworking filled the screen.

What the . . .?

Hayden slumped down onto the sofa and pulled the computer onto his lap. He scrolled through the site. There were photos of his workshop and several pieces of furniture he’d made for friends and family. A picture of the captain’s desk, front and center in his mother’s shop, served as the banner. There was even a testimonial from “a very satisfied customer, interior designer, Olivia Turner.”

“Was that Livi?”

Elle’s question startled him. He’d been so transfixed by whatever this was on her computer that he hadn’t heard her come in.

“What is this?” He turned the computer so she could see the screen.

Her cheeks went immediately pink. She rushed over to where he sat, trying to grab her laptop. Hayden held it out of reach.

“You’re not supposed to see that yet,” she insisted. “It’s your Christmas present.”

“What gave you the idea I wanted a website for Christmas?”

She plopped down beside him. “Actually, it was Livi’s idea.”

Was she serious right now? “Livi is doing just fine bringing me clients without a website. She just showed up with two furniture requests.”

Elle’s face lit up with delight. “She did? That’s fantastic.” She scooched up next to him. “With a bit of good promotion, this doesn’t have to be something you do in your spare time. You can become a full-time artisan and make your living crafting furniture. You can grow it over time. Maybe expand to a bigger workshop somewhere else.”

So that’s where this was going.

His heart sank. “Somewhere else?”

Elle squirmed a little. “Well, yeah. I mean, you don’t have to necessarily stay here in Chances Inlet . . .”

Hayden sighed heavily. He closed the computer and placed it on a cabinet beside them before taking both her hands in his.

“Belle,” he said gently, “I don’t want to live anywhere else. I’m satisfied with my life here in Chances Inlet. It’s what I know. And I don’t need to become a famous artisan to prove to anyone that I’m worthy. And for the record, neither do you.”

He could see the disappointment settle in her eyes before she snuffed it out and adopted a too-cheery, fake smile. “Of course I don’t. Furniture making is not my passion.”

Hayden resisted rolling his eyes at her clever attempt to deflect the discussion away from her hang-ups. Her ridiculous need to prove herself to her family.

“I don’t know. You were pretty passionate on the furniture a little while ago,” he teased.

Elle draped her arms around his neck. “Maybe I should add something to the website alluding to your thorough testing of the furniture before it’s delivered.”

He laughed, thankful they navigated the conversation away from the emotional landmines. She kissed him then. It was enthusiastic and sensuous. But he could taste the hint of disappointment that lingered.

Hayden laid her down on the sofa, desperate to erase any dejection she might be feeling. He ignored the insistent voice in the back of his head telling him he was out of his mind. Convincing Elle to stay in Chances Inlet was a fool’s errand. Believing he could live without her was even more foolish.