Mistletoe in Paradise Read online

  “It’s not like I don’t choose to be happy,” she said. “But it’s not what drives me. My work drives me.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “Maybe you should tell me what’s going on at work. What is it about this case that has you and your boss working around the clock?”

  Once upon a time they’d told each other everything. Just as once upon a time, they’d been magic together. If that hadn’t changed—and given the sheer magnitude of their chemistry, it hadn’t—then she could tell him anything. She knew that. But this . . . this was going to hit him hard. “Are you sure?” she asked. “It might be difficult to hear.”

  His eyes held her, serious, solemn. “Lay it on me.”

  “I’m advocating for a patient who needs her fifteenth surgery on her heart. She’s four. Her insurance company refused to approve the surgery because there’s only a forty percent chance of her survival. But to her parents, forty percent is everything.” She met his gaze, knowing she was telling him a story his family had also been through. “She needs the surgery to live, James.”

  He got to his feet and walked to the water.

  Her gut sank as she took in the breadth of his shoulders and the weight on them. Because Jason had died according to this exact scenario—waiting on insurance approval.

  Chapter 6

  James stood at the water’s edge looking out at . . . nothing. Normally just the soothing sound of the waves lapping at the shore would lower his heart rate and blood pressure, but not this time. His heart was pounding in his ears, the blood rushing through his veins. Because of Jason, yes. But also for Hannah. Here he’d always believed she’d misunderstood him, but he’d been the one to misunderstand her.

  She came up at his side, her bare feet sinking into the wet sand, her loose brunette waves blowing around her face.

  “I had no idea,” he said quietly. “No idea what you actually did, what your job entailed. It’s . . . incredible.” He reached for her hand, turning her to face him. “You’re incredible.” When her eyes went shiny, he pulled her closer. “I’ve always thought that, Hannah, with or without your job, but even more so now. You’re changing lives, making sure that some people get to live a healthier, longer life than they would’ve otherwise.”

  She nodded and gave him a small smile, which he helplessly returned. “So I guess you were hoping to hand-deliver a pretty big Christmas present to the girl’s family this week,” he said. “Instead your boss gets to.”

  “Assuming we win. Only, as you know, that’s never a given.” She paused, as if searching for the right words. “It’s always great when I get to see the looks on their faces, but in the end, it doesn’t matter who delivers the news. All that matters is that the patient gets what they need.”

  He shook his head, still marveling at her. “How did you end up with a job like that? Your degree was in business. You started out at a bank, right?”

  “I did.” She met his gaze. “But after watching what your family suffered and struggled through with Jason’s health, I knew I wanted to do something else. I kept the bank job while I looked around. It took me a couple of years, but when the position for health care advocate at my local hospital opened up, I applied.”

  He felt overwhelmed by her revelation. That last Christmas they’d spent together had been only a few months after Jason had died. He’d been messed up and hard on everyone, especially Hannah. He didn’t like to look back on that time because it made him feel like there was an elephant sitting on his chest, but memories were coming in fast and hot now.

  He’d been so caught up in his own grief and issues that he’d overlooked that she, too, had loved and lost Jason. Her parents were split up by then, and all of this had hit her hard as well, but none of it had stopped her. While he’d been running from continent to continent and then building his business, not dealing with his grief, Hannah had chosen to make a difference by working with families just like his every day.

  So really, who had let whom down? “Hannah—”

  “Look.” She pointed out at the water, where they could see The Therapist setting anchor.

  “Ahoy!” rang out across the water.

  Captain Harry, with his impeccable timing.

  Chapter 7

  Much later that night back on the ship, Hannah was helping her dad hang some new sparkling holiday lights that he’d not yet gotten up. Her mind kept drifting, playing the day on repeat—jumping off the bluffs, kissing James . . .

  I thought you ran because you were scared . . .

  “Well, if that’s not a crock of french fried baloney,” she muttered to herself, even knowing there’d actually been a lot of truth to his statement. She had hidden behind her scholarship and internship, when the truth was, what she’d had with James had been more real than anything else in her life, and well worth fighting for.

  Something she’d never told him.

  Harry stopped trying to untangle a ball of electrical cord and looked at her. “What are you muttering about?”

  “Nothing.” She paused. “Love is dumb.”

  He laughed and wobbled as he climbed a ladder, making her gasp and wrap her arms around the ladder and the bottoms of his legs. “Dad!”

  “I’m fine.”

  Sure. He was fine. And three sheets to the wind as well. “Seriously, please let one of us do this for you.”

  “Are you kidding me? Trust my baby to a youngster?”

  Of course the boat was his baby. It certainly wasn’t her—she wasn’t even his real daughter. Even though he’d raised her since she was a toddler, she always knew where she stood in the lineup. When it came to Harry, his priorities went: boat, fun, family—meaning her mom—and then finally Hannah.

  She’d always understood that, accepted that, and even understood that was why James and Jason and their parents had been so important to her.

  But sometimes deep down, when she let herself think about it too long, it stirred up feelings inside her she didn’t like. She was jealous of a damn boat. “Dad, you always trusted one of your ‘youngster’ crew to watch me when I was little.”

  “Well, that’s different, kiddo. The boat needed my attention more than you did.”

  Hannah sucked in a breath just as someone came up behind her. Turning, she met James’s gaze, warm with concern.

  “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  Embarrassed without really understanding why, she nodded.

  James looked up at her dad. “How about you come down before you hurt anyone else?”

  “What are you talking about? I’d never hurt my boat.”

  “Yeah, I was talking about your daughter. Come on.” And then, without waiting for Harry to agree, James moved close enough to reach up and take ahold of the back of Harry’s shirt. “Slowly.”

  Harry sighed. “I’m not an invalid.” But as he backed down the ladder, he missed the second-to-last rung and would’ve fallen if James hadn’t been standing there to steady him.

  On the deck, Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve made a mess of this.”

  James set a hand on her dad’s shoulder. “Go sleep it off.”

  Harry nodded, then paused. “Thanks, James.”

  James looked surprised as he met Harry’s gaze, probably because in all these years, she didn’t think her dad had ever called James by his given name. He had always referred to him as WK. She’d always figured that was her dad’s way of reminding James that he still thought of him as a kid.

  Harry nodded at them both and walked off.

  James stepped closer and tilted her face up to his. “I’m going to ask you again. You okay?”

  “Yeah. That was just Harry being Harry.”

  “He’d been drinking.”

  “Yes, which makes him even more stubborn than usual,” she said. “Don’t worry, Vacation Harry is much nicer and easier to deal with. He’ll show up when your parents do.”

  “Hannah . . . you deserve Vacation Harry as Everyday Harry.”

  S
he shrugged and moved to walk off, but he caught her hand and slowly, almost gently, reeled her in, entangling their fingers together. “About today . . .”

  “What about it?”

  “I know we’re two very different people,” he said, carrying on their earlier conversation like no time had gone by. “But we’ve got the important stuff in common.”

  She stared into his Caribbean eyes and saw the depth of his emotions there. He was letting her in, letting her see everything: his hopes, his dreams, his pain, even the truth about how he felt for her. It all made her heart squeeze hard. “James, how we feel about each other has never been the problem.”

  He gave a small smile and brought her hand up to his mouth, brushing a kiss across her palm. “No, it hasn’t.”

  Slowly, regretfully, she pulled free. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “When are you going to tell your dad about the divorce?”

  The nerves in her belly took flight again. “I was going to do it tonight, but obviously that didn’t work out. I need to do it before the day we dock in Puerto Rico and meet up with your parents.”

  He nodded slowly. “Do you want company when you tell him?”

  “You’d be with me?”

  “Always.”

  It wasn’t just the word, but the way he said it, voice low and serious. He had her back in a way no one else ever had.

  “Let’s have breakfast in the morning,” he said. “We’ll figure out the best way to tell him.”

  She nodded, and he climbed the ladder, hanging the lights with no problem, his T-shirt stretched tight over his shoulders and biceps as he moved, his long legs affording him an easy reach. His body was a finely honed machine that spoke of long days of rowing, climbing, or pursuing his latest adventure, those board shorts of his lovingly cupping a world-class—

  “You’re staring at my ass,” he said, voice laced with amusement.

  “Figured it was only fair.”

  He laughed softly as he climbed back down the ladder. And then he suddenly turned, putting them toe to toe, thigh to thigh. Chest to chest . . .

  His hands came up and cupped her face as he slowly drew her mouth to his, giving her plenty of time to back away if she wanted.

  She didn’t. In fact she leaned in breathlessly as he kissed her, softly at first, teasing her a little before gently taking her bottom lip between his teeth. She moaned and clutched for purchase in a spinning world, twining her arms around his neck as he fisted his hands in her hair, kissing her hungrily now. When they finally broke apart for air, she stared at him. “Why does that just get better and better?”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “One of life’s little mysteries, I guess.”

  She stared at him, knowing she needed to walk away now or she wasn’t going to walk away at all. “I should probably go get some work done.”

  Nodding, he took her hand and walked with her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Walking you to your room.”

  “This isn’t a date.”

  He smiled again. “Feels like one whenever I’m with you.”

  She stared into his eyes and then lowered her gaze to his mouth.

  He groaned softly. “Hannah. I want to kiss you when you look at me like that.”

  “Good, because I want you to kiss me.”

  With a rough laugh, he pulled her to him and did just that until they’d both lost themselves. “Tell me this doesn’t feel like a date to you, too,” he murmured.

  They didn’t see eye to eye on . . . well, almost anything, but there was an undeniable heart and soul connection with him unlike anything else she’d ever experienced. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But I’m out of dating practice, so . . .”

  “Don’t overthink it.”

  “Hi, have you met me?”

  He smiled, then leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, making her realize they were in front of their rooms. “Good night,” he murmured.

  She absolutely wanted one. A good night, that was. His door was closest, so she caught his hand and tugged him inside to ensure one.

  Chapter 8

  James found himself up against his bedroom door, an incredibly sexy and determined woman holding him there, her lips making their way down his jaw toward his mouth. The rest of his body went on high, hopeful alert. “Hannah.”

  “Hmm?” she murmured, mouth busy.

  “I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

  She gave a throaty laugh, as if amused by his thick voice and the way he could barely speak with her mouth on him. “Feels like we’ve been dating forever.”

  “It started in the seventh grade,” he said. “You showed up with that new cute haircut.”

  “I thought maybe it was eighth grade, when I showed up with boobs.”

  He smiled, holding her tight against him. “Yeah. Maybe. Eighth-grade boys are assholes.”

  She took her mouth off him and met his gaze. “Why did we never admit we crushed on each other?”

  He stared at her. “Wait, you’re serious? You crushed on me?”

  “Hard,” she admitted. “Come on. I followed you around and pretended to want to do stupid boy stuff just to get your attention.”

  He shook his head, his brain not in gear. “Stupid boy stuff?”

  “Yeah, like when you all caught fish and you were gutting them to cook for dinner, remember that?”

  “Of course. You were great at it.”

  She shook her head. “When we were done, I staggered to the back of the boat where no one could see me and threw up.”

  “Hannah . . .” He laughed softly, full of sympathy. “How long until you got used to prepping the fish?”

  “How many times did we have to gut them?” she asked.

  “We must have done that, like, what? Ten years in a row.”

  “Then ten.” She looked at him. “You really didn’t know how I felt about you?”

  He gave a small, disgusted-with-himself shake of his head. All of this was news to him. What an idiot he’d been. “Never. I always thought it was about Jason for you.”

  “No,” she whispered, giving him a delicious shiver. Or maybe that was her mouth, making its wicked way up to his ear now, which she nipped, pulling a rough groan from him. “It was always you, James. Always.” She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “I’ve had a crush on you since that first Christmas, but it didn’t really take hold until I was fourteen and my dad taught us to drive the boat, wanting us to know how to handle ourselves in an emergency. I was terrified I’d kill us all, but he just kept saying that there was no crying on the boat. You came over and held my hand.”

  He remembered. She’d been so frightened, and he’d been pissed at Harry, who’d been clueless, treating her like any other crew member. Hannah had been shaking too hard to get a good grip on the helm, so he’d helped her.

  “You made me feel . . . protected,” she said. “Safe. Like you wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Like you thought I was special.”

  “You are,” he said, intensely enough to have her looking surprised. He was starting to realize just how scarred she’d been by two well-meaning but clueless parents, people who were supposed to love her and put her first, but who instead somehow always made her feel like an afterthought.

  He’d been no better, expecting her to dump everything she knew and loved to travel the world with him—no plan, no safety net.

  He’d been a selfish asshole.

  “You actually fell into the water that day on purpose,” Hannah said. “To show me it wasn’t scary. Then you climbed back on board and held my hand.”

  He nodded and slid his hand into her hair to tip her face up to his. “Yeah, but that’s not all I was thinking about back then.”

  “No? What else were you thinking about?”

  He smiled and lifted her up against him, groaning when she climbed him like a tree. “The same thing I’m thinking about now.”

  “Which is?” she asked brea
thlessly.

  “Some things are better suited for show, not tell.”

  When she smiled at him, he felt like he’d just won a pot of gold.

  Hannah was feeling a little bit like how she’d felt earlier when jumping off the bluffs with James. Adventurous. Exhilarated. But there was more, too. A lot more.

  James let her body slide down his with a delicious, electric friction before pinning her to the door in much the same way she’d done to him only moments ago.

  “Showing is good,” she whispered.

  Their gazes met and held until James lowered his head and kissed her with a hunger that matched her own, until they were practically having sex while still fully dressed, up against the wall.

  “James,” she finally gasped, “I can’t stand up anymore.”

  He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around him as he headed toward the bed.

  “I’ve missed this with you,” she confessed, mouth on his sexy throat.

  “Yeah?”

  “When you boarded the other day and looked at me, my heart stopped. I couldn’t imagine you ever wanting me again.”

  “I never stopped, Hannah. Can’t you feel it?”

  She rocked against an impressive erection, and he let out a sexy laugh. “Not just with your body, babe. Inside, in your heart. Feel how much I want you, all of you.”

  She stared at him, seeing the truth in his eyes, and it freed her somehow. Wriggling free, she beamed at him. He smiled back, letting out a surprised laugh when she gave him a shove to the bed. He lay back on his elbows, eyes hot as he watched her crawl up his body. “Feeling aggressive?” he asked mildly.

  “I’m feeling something.” She tugged his shirt up, and when he took his hands from her to help pull the shirt over his head, she took advantage, leaning in to kiss her way across his yummy chest. As she headed south, he made a rough male noise and stopped her.

  “Be sure, Hannah.”

  He was looking at her as if she was the most important thing in his entire world. “I am,” she said. “I’ve never been more sure.”