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John took his cell phone out of his pocket. He pulled up his contact list, then put his phone down. “I’ll call her in the morning. Bella will want to come.”
“Bella will understand. You could invite Rachel over when Bella’s awake.”
John wasn’t sure this was a good idea. He’d be lucky if Rachel spoke to him again. The flimsy excuse of a Christmas present wouldn’t work. She’d see through it, tell him she didn’t want anything to do with him.
Grant grabbed his phone off the coffee table and ran across the room.
“Don’t you dare,” John hissed. “Put that phone down.”
Grant pushed a couple of buttons and smiled. “Oops. My fingers slipped. It’s ringing…”
He passed the phone to John just as Rachel answered the call.
“Hello?”
John glared at his brother. “Hi, Rachel. It’s John. I’ve umm…I’ve got Bella’s Christmas present here that she made for you. Can I bring it around?” The silence on the end of the phone wasn’t reassuring.
“Did you mean now or on another day?”
“Well...it doesn’t really matter, but now would be good.” Grant was busy making high-five actions beside him. John could have quite easily pushed his brother out the door.
“Okay. Now would be fine. I’m at Tess and Logan’s home. I’ll see you soon.” Rachel had disconnected the call before John realized what she’d said.
“Well?” Grant watched him carefully. “Did you hit a home run or strike out?”
“I’m going to see Rachel.”
Grant threw his hand in the air and John slapped his hand against his brother’s high-five. And for the first time in a long time, it felt good to be alive.
***
Rachel ran downstairs and sat in a big, overstuffed chair in the living room. She glanced at the gas fireplace, the candles she’d lit on the coffee table. It was too much. It looked like she was preparing for a night of seduction, not a quick five-minute gift-giving exercise.
She blew the candles out and waved the thin line of black smoke away from the table. The rest of the room looked normal. The cushions were in the right place, sneakers were at the front door and not under the sofa, and all of the magazines were where they should be.
She ran her hands through her hair and tried to look as though she hadn’t just gotten out of bed. She glanced at her watch and the grandfather clock in the living room. They were two minutes apart. John should be here soon.
She wondered if putting a plate of cookies on the table would be a normal thing to do. Bringing over her Christmas present from Bella didn’t exactly mean he wanted to say or do anything more than give her the present. But a plate of cookies was fairly neutral. It was good manners to offer your guest something to eat and drink. Except he wasn’t her guest. He was her boss. Ex-boss. The man who’d fired her.
What was she doing?
The doorbell rang and Rachel leaped out of the chair. Tanner would have stopped whoever was there if it wasn’t John. She wiped her hands down the side of her skirt, hoping the dress she was wearing wasn’t too revealing. She’d worn it to her parents’ house for lunch, so it should have been exactly right for John’s unexpected visit. She tweaked the bodice before opening the door. It was better to be safe than sorry. Or maybe not.
She opened the door. John stood on the front porch in his thick woolen jacket. He looked incredibly sexy in the mountain man versus James Bond way that he had about him. Her imagination was rambling. She needed to say something intelligent instead of ogling him like a sex-starved jellyfish.
She squared her shoulders, opened her mouth, and said, “Hi.”
John smiled, and the sex-starved jellyfish inside of her quivered. She had no shame, no moral compass that would guide her in her hour of need. Or five-minute need. This was so bad.
She stomped down on her hormones for long enough to realize that John looked cold. They’d both turn into Popsicles if she left him standing on the porch, so she opened the door wider. “Do you want to come inside?”
“Thanks. I appreciate you seeing me so late in the day. I mean…it’s not that late, but I tend to go to…”
Rachel stared at him. He was nervous. John Fletcher, the man most likely to be poised and confident in front of any movie star or president, was nervous. Of her. Of being here.
She shouldn’t have left their Christmas presents under the tree.
“It’s okay. I was still awake.” Not quite a lie, but enough to make her blush as red as Rudolph’s nose. “Do you want a cup of coffee? We’ve got hot chocolate or juice if you want something different?”
John looked relieved. “Coffee would be great. Where’s Tess and Logan?”
“They went to visit Logan’s mom for Christmas. They won’t be back for a few days.”
“Oh.” He looked at her dress and frowned.
She glanced down at the red cross-over bodice and full skirt. It was too much. She should have worn her jeans, pretended that this wasn’t a big deal.
“I like your dress.”
Rachel cleared her throat. “Thanks. I don’t often wear dresses, but I thought, seen as it’s Christmas, that I might…” She stopped in mid-sentence.
“…wear one?” John finished.
Rachel took a deep breath. “I’m nervous. I didn’t want you to think that I did anything special for…”
“I changed five times before I came here. My brother skim-read the first chapter of the book you gave me and summarized it so that I don’t mess this up. I nearly turned around twice before ringing the doorbell.” John took a deep breath. “I’m nervous, too.”
“You are? Why?”
“I said things that I didn’t mean. It wasn’t your fault that Bella ran away. She shouldn’t have done that and she knows she made a mistake. You were only trying to make her happy and I guess that’s as good a reason as any to be spontaneous. In case that all came out in a garbled rambling, what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Apology accepted.” Rachel grinned at her ex-boss. Ever since Bella had gone missing she’d been so worried that she’d felt sick to her stomach. In one long sentence, John had made her the happiest person alive. “You can take your coat off and come into the kitchen. I’ll make us coffee.”
John shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the stand.
“I like what you’re wearing,” she teased.
John looked down at his jeans and white button-down shirt. “Grant told me it looked casual without being sloppy. The white shirt is supposed to make my chest look wider and, therefore, more appealing to the feminine eye.”
Rachel’s gaze shot to his face. “Did Grant really say that?”
“No. I made it up. But if you like my white shirt, I’m happy.”
Rachel looked at his white shirt again. It did make his chest look wider. It defined his muscles and left her drooling on the spot. “Are you flirting with me, John Fletcher?”
He took a step forward. “It was the third bullet point in the book you gave me. Is it working?”
Rachel moved a step closer. She ran her hand down the front of his shirt and saw his pulse leap in his throat. “It’s working. What were the other two bullet points?”
“Ring the doorbell and don’t fall flat on your face when you see the beautiful woman waiting for you.”
“Wow. The cover said it was a bestseller, but I didn’t know it was that good.”
John rubbed his nose against the side of her face. “Do you want to know what the fourth bullet point said?”
Rachel was more impressed that he could remember what bullet point they were up to. Her brain had gone into melt-down mode when he’d mentioned his shirt. She licked her lips and let her imagination wander through different bullet point options.
John muttered something under his breath, then plastered his amazing mouth against hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulled him close, and felt a rush of heat melt her common sense away.
John’s tongue slid along the seam of her mouth, dipped between her lips, and teased her until she didn’t care what bullet point four, five, or six, said.
He lifted her into his arms and she wound her legs around his waist. “I think we’re skipping chapter one,” he whispered against her ear.
Rachel nibbled on the sensitive skin under his jaw. She smiled at the groan rumbling out of his chest. “Do you want to call Grant and ask him to summarize chapter two? He did a pretty good job of chapter one.”
John walked across to the sofa and sat down with her in his lap. “We could make it up as we go along?”
“You want to be spontaneous?” Rachel felt the smile on John’s face as she kissed him.
“I have been known to act first and think later.”
She leaned back. “You have?”
“Once or twice.” He closed his eyes and moaned as she wiggled against him.
“Show me…”
“Are you sure?”
Rachel nodded. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
“It will change our relationship.” He tugged at the zip on the back of her dress and ran his hand along her spine.
