Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)

Carter flew into the kitchen, Webster at his heels.

“I’m going to take him out,” he said, crossing to Felicia and hugging her. “Then I’ll be back. I’m going to peel the potatoes. You remember that, right?”

“Yes. I remember,” Felicia told him.

The boy and the dog headed outside.

When he was gone, Felicia turned to them. “He wants to help. It’s so nice. We’ve been very fortunate with his personality and how he was raised. His mother did an excellent job. I hope when Gideon and I begin a family that I can be half as skilled.”

Karen moved toward her and touched her shoulder. “You’ll do great.”

“I have doubts,” Felicia admitted.

Noelle was about to reassure her when she heard a sharp, angry voice. It took her a second to realize it came from downstairs. Karen and Felicia both turned in that direction.

“No,” Karen said firmly. “They’re not going to fight on Thanksgiving.”

She spoke as if this had happened before, but didn’t explain any further. But when she started for the stairs, Felicia and Noelle went with her, all three women hurrying down to the lower story.

The voices grew louder.

“This isn’t about you,” Gideon growled. “It’s not your choice.”

“I get a say,” Norm shouted. “You’re both my sons and you will respect my opinion.”

The three women raced into the family room. The men faced each other. Tension was thick with more than a hint of anger. Noelle saw Gabriel’s back was stiff, his shoulders set. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

She had no idea what the fight had been about, but she knew he was in pain. As she moved toward him, Karen grabbed Norm’s hand and physically pulled him toward the stairs.

“You stay out of this,” he told her.

“No,” Karen said, still pulling. “You’re coming with me until you can cool off. We talked about this.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand plenty.”

Felicia went to Gideon and murmured something. He nodded and they went down the hall behind the family room. Which left Noelle with Gabriel.

He crossed to the window and stared out toward the mountainside. “Sorry about that. It’s a family thing. My dad has... He has expectations.”

She thought about making a joke that he was a doctor and what more did his father want. Only she didn’t know what the fight was about and couldn’t be sure she wasn’t stepping on toes. She wanted to help and didn’t know how. A frustrating combination.

Gabriel stood alone and in that moment, as she watched him, she wondered how much of his life he spent like that. Solitary.

Without knowing what else to do, she crossed to him.

“Hey,” she said, touching his good hand.

He turned his face to her. Pain darkened his eyes, along with something she could only assume was hope. Hope that she would somehow make it all better.

Panic seized her. She had no idea what to say. What to do. A distraction was called for but short of yelling “Fire,” there was nothing that...

“You could kiss me again,” she blurted.

In that split second before he responded, she braced herself for dismissal, sarcasm or pity. Which probably didn’t make her a poster girl for mental health, but then she’d never believed in lying to herself. The fact that she found him attractive didn’t mean the interest was returned.

One eyebrow rose. “I could,” Gabriel said, right before he lowered his head and did just that.

The first touch of his mouth on hers was soft. Not tentative, she thought, closing her eyes. More discovery than passion.

He had nice lips. Warm and tender, but masculine enough to keep things interesting. Although she expected him to straighten right away like he had that morning, he didn’t. He lingered.

Nerve endings began to fire. Instinctively, she stepped toward him just as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. They touched everywhere and still it wasn’t enough.

She rested her hands on his shoulders. He was muscled and strong. He shifted slightly so he was kissing her cheek, her chin, her jaw. Heat radiated from every point of contact. When he trailed light kisses down her neck, her breath caught.

It wasn’t just that she hadn’t been kissed in what felt like forever. It was that she hadn’t ever been kissed by this man before. She hadn’t felt the solid pressure of his chest flattening her br**sts, hadn’t experienced his large hands splayed against her back, hadn’t known the depth of wanting that left her practically trembling.