Chapter 15
Opening her eyes to simple magic—the kind that couldn’t be bought in a store but came from quiet moments like this. He associated gingerbread with Ana, and if anyone understood the true meaning of Christmas, it was his sister.
“This was my sister’s favorite,” he told her as he finished mixing the dough and turned it out onto the counter that she’d floured for him.
He kneaded the dough a little and then they set about cutting out gingerbread people.
Her well-stocked pantry had provided M&Ms, red hots and spice drops. Seeing them made him laugh.
“What?”
“Ana liked to make anatomically correct gingerbread women.”
Cora pressed close to the counter next to him and chuckled. “Sounds like she was a lot of fun.”
“She was.”
“Was?”
“She died a few years ago,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion before he shook his head.
“Everyone gets so intense in December, but she was a big one for dashing outside and making snow angels. Or dropping to the workshop floor and leading the elv—the workers in a rousing rendition of ‘Jingle Bells.’”
“Snow angels? I haven’t made one since elementary school,” Cora admitted.
The frosting would come later but the candy needed to be added before the bake so it would sink into the dough. They sat side by side on the stools at her counter decorating the cookies, and trying to outdo each other with how outrageous the anatomical designs were.
He put the cookie sheets in the oven to bake then sat back to watch Cora move about her kitchen.
There was such freedom and grace in her movements, and Nick knew he would never forget this evening, no matter what happened in the future.
There was something soft about her that called to him in a way he hadn’t expected.
The soft amber bulbs in her lights cast the room in a cozy glow and the scents of nutmeg and ginger filled the air. It felt so good, and not as familiar as it should. Had he also lost touch with the magic of Christmas?
That took him aback. He’d been complaining about Cora commercializing the holiday, but he’d also turned it into nonstop work for himself and the elves of Hearthvale.
They used to have cookie competitions, an annual hockey tournament with teams from different departments and, most importantly, one resident would be crowned Christmas Spirit.
How had he let these things slip? As much as the mortal world fed the Magic Coffers, Hearthvale played a part as well.
His obsession with making Christmas better—read different from his dad’s—had driven him.
He pushed for more innovation and the elves who loved a challenge had risen to it.
But Nick had lost sight of what the season should be about.
Making gingerbread with Cora gave him a glimpse of what he truly wanted for Hearthvale.
“Want to lick the beaters?” she asked.
“My mom used to let me,” he said.
“Sarah used to let me,” she admitted.
“Tell me more about Sarah.”
“She was my neighbor when I was growing up. Mom worked all the time and she sort of realized I was alone a lot. Probably because she was too. I started eating dinner with her when my mom worked late. She taught me to cook… I’m rambling, but she meant the world to me.”
“She’s passed?”
“The first year I started running the festival. She’s the one who inspired me to take on the job. I created the Winter Wonderland for her from stories she used to tell me about her childhood.”
Wow. There was so much more to Cora than he’d thought.
And then she bent over to take a sheet of gingerbread people out of the oven and the short hem of her skirt rode up her thigh … and he was lost.
“Oy, perv! Eyes up!” she teased. “We can lick the beaters and there’s also a bit extra we can eat from the bowl.”
He blushed to have been caught staring, but he wanted to lick more than the beater and the bowl. Being with Cora was on big turn-on. From the moment he glimpsed her in the Yuleglass his hormones had started humming. There was no fighting the pull she had on him.
Winking at him, she handed him one of the beaters before setting the bowl between them. There wasn’t much dough left but it was enough.
Cora closed her eyes as she licked the beater and Nick had to hastily adjust his stance to give his dick room to grow.
There was pure mischief in her eyes as she opened them. “What are you waiting for?” She knew exactly what she was doing.
Cora was playing with him. Joy sparkled in him and in the room. He walked to her side of the counter and leaned against it next to her, noting the moment she clocked his hard-on.
“Wanted to make sure it was safe,” he said, before licking the batter off his own beater.
“I’m not sure it’s totally safe for you,” she teased.
He finished cleaning off the beater and set it on the counter, deliberately brushing his hand over hers as he reached for a spoon. She shivered and a flush moved up her neck to her cheeks. “Why not?”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“It’s a chilly night.” He scooped up some dough and held the spoon out to her.
Her mouth opened and he slipped the spoon in, but she carefully took only half a bite, leaving the rest for him. Keeping eye contact, he brought the spoon to his own mouth, telling himself there was no way this bite was sweeter than the last. After all, it was the same dough.
The fact that it had been in Cora’s mouth shouldn’t have any impact at all. But it did. He was rock hard in his jeans.
“More?” Her husky voice brushed over his aroused senses, and he wasn’t sure who was winning this game they were playing—maybe both of them.
This time he went first, but the way she watched him biting the dough off the spoon made him want to toss it aside and lift her up on the countertop. He wanted to push himself between her legs, until he could rub his cock against her center.
He swallowed hard as he held the spoon out to her, not quite to her mouth so she’d have to come closer.
Putting her hand on his wrist, her long fingers wrapping around it, she went up on her tiptoes and put her mouth around the spoon, cleaning off the rest of the dough.
A haze fell over him. All he could think about in this room that smelled of gingerbread was that they were no longer his favorite.
Cora was fast becoming that. Tossing the spoon down, he licked her lower lip.
Her breath brushed over his lips as she opened her mouth and then her tongue rubbed over his. He lifted her off her feet, pulling her flush against him. His hands were on her butt, lifting her up until he could rub his aching erection against her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as she plunged her tongue into his mouth. He wanted to be closer to her. He needed some skin-on-skin contact.
Pushing his hand under her skirt, he was frustrated to only feel the silky smoothness of her stockings. Her hands went between them, her fingers on the buttons of his flannel shirt, and then her fingers were on his skin. This was getting out of control.
All he wanted was to be buried deep inside of her. He turned her so that her butt rested on the edge of the countertop. Cora’s mouth went on his neck, sucking at that spot where he was sure she could feel his pulse racing.
With less skill than he would have liked, he shoved his hand under the hem of her fluffy sweater.
The moment his fingers were on her smooth skin, the spring inside of his gut coiled tighter.
His other hand curving around her waist to draw them closer until the tips of her breasts brushed his chest. He pushed the hem of her top up until he encountered her bra.
Sleeping with her without coming clean that he was Santa Claus was dumb, no two ways about it. He kept repeating that in his head, hoping the reminder would make him stop.
But nothing could break the spell that Cora had on him. Her body was the kind of temptation that he wanted to explore. He needed to take his time with her.
She was rubbing him through his jeans and he could barely think, let alone stop. And then she scooched her butt forward and wrapped her legs around his waist, and began moving against him, riding him hard with her head thrown back and her breath coming in gasps.
God, she was beautiful like this. His mouth was on her neck, biting and sucking as he fought for control. Cora rode him hard, her nails digging into his shoulders as she did it.
Every fiber of his being felt too tight and the tension kept building until he pulled his hips away from her. He was going to orgasm in her kitchen, both of them fully clothed.
But Cora dug her heels into his thighs and kept them in contact.
She shivered and shuddered in his arms at the same moment as he started to come too.
Her hands were in his hair as her mouth came down hard on his.
She was breathing hard, sucking his tongue deep and riding him until she collapsed in his arms. He held her to him, hands running up and down her back.
This was not what he’d had planned. Not in the least.
The oven timer started going off and she kissed his chin. “Let me down. There’s a bathroom along the hall if you want to clean up. When you come back, I’ll have hot gingerbread and a glass of cold milk waiting.”
He set her on her feet, feeling like he’d been played, yet regretting nothing. He let his hand linger as he pulled it slowly down her spine and she shivered.
The hallway that led to the bathroom had bare walls that had been painted in a seafoam green color. The bathroom itself was quaint, but all Nick could do was put his hands on the edge of the sink and stare at himself in the mirror.
What was he doing?
Could he really convince Cora to marry him? And how would he live without her if she turned him down?
But as he finished cleaning up and glanced at his watch, he saw how much she was boosting the Lumen. He would have to wait until he got back to his office to see if her knot in the Yearweave had changed, but he felt sure it must have.