Beach Blanket Santa

more than taking Sarah in his arms. Kissing her soundly. Making love to her… Matt’s neck flashed hot at the memory. There’d been something almost hypnotic about her, and the way their bodies had molded together on the dance floor had held the promise of something more. He’d secretly liked her since that first wedding party held on Elaine’s outdoor patio. Elaine and Robert had just gotten engaged and wanted to share their newfound joy with a close circle of friends. As it turned out, the dinner guests were also top picks for the wedding party, with Sarah selected as the maid of honor and Matt designated as the best man. He’d taken Sarah a beer, spouting some stupid line about how that meant they’d be working together. She’d narrowed her eyes with a laugh and said, “Don’t bet on us working together too closely.” From that moment, he’d been desperate to hold her and learn more about what made her beautiful brain tick. Sarah wasn’t just the best-looking woman in the place, she was also funny and fiery, a bright mischief burning behind those pretty brown eyes. He’d flirted with her all evening and at every prenuptial event after. It wasn’t until the wedding reception that she’d finally caved just a little, indicating that all along she’d equally been interested in him.
    “You going to get that?”
    Matt blinked hard at the kettle squealing on the stovetop before him. He’d been so lost in his reverie, he hadn’t heard it go off. “Yeah, sure,” he replied as casually as he could. “Just waiting on things to get nice and hot.”
    Sarah’s eyes flashed. “It… I meant, the water… Yeah.”
    He shot her a tight smile, then turned his back on her to make tea. Hang on, this wasn’t right. All this while he’d been thinking she was the skittish one, but just look at him. Let’s build a fire… Let things get nice and hot. If he was going to come on to her, he could at least man up and do it directly. Not that this was in his plan. It hadn’t been his idea to walk out last time. Sarah had been the one to tell him to hit the road. And, given that the roads around here were certainly washed over, Matt decided that now wasn’t the time to bring up any touchy-feely subjects.
    He strode across the living room with two steaming mugs of tea and sat down beside her, handing one over. Nearly imperceptibly, she rearranged herself on the sofa, scooting just the tiniest bit away from him. This was it, then. No sign could be clearer than that. Sarah wasn’t any more interested in Matt getting close than she’d been three years ago. Fine. He could deal with that. He was just here for one night, anyway.

    Sarah took a sip of peppermint tea as the rain beat down harder and the winds wailed. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”
    “I’m sorry?” he said beneath the commotion slamming their cottage from every direction.
    Sarah raised her voice just a tad. “I said thanks for the tea! It’s delicious.”
    “Glad that you like it,” Matt called back. The lights flickered, and they both stared at each other.
    “You don’t think we’ll lose power, do you?”
    “Robert put in a generator,” Matt said in an effort to reassure her. But all Sarah could think of was being alone here. With Matt. In the dark. It was hard enough to resist him with all the lights blazing, Sarah thought, feeling overheated again. She inched away from him on the sofa, then laughed when he gave her a quizzical look.
    “Just getting comfortable, that’s all.” As if to prove it, she stuffed a large throw pillow behind her back. “Ah. Much better!”
    Matt drank from his tea, then set it down. “Hmm. Yes.”
    “When do you think they’ll reopen the ferry?”
    “I suppose as soon as the water calms down.”
    Outside the large glass door, the ocean tumbled about furiously, giving no indication that would be anytime soon. “Sarah,” Matt said, studying her sincerely. “I don’t want you to worry. Don’t think anything will happen here just because you and I—”
    “No, of course not,” she rushed in, feeling idiotic.
    “I mean, we do have separate bedrooms, after all.”
    “I know,” she answered, wishing with all her might he hadn’t said that. Bedrooms plus Matt Salvatore in her mind led to one terribly embarrassing memory. Not that she totally blamed her formerly drunken self. She’d been a little younger and a whole less wiser back then. These days she understood what keeping her distance meant. It