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  Clay cupped the iron-hard erection pressing violently against the front of his jeans. His body’s extreme reaction wasn’t right, especially since they were both still mourning. But he could as soon stop the sun from rising in the morning as stop wanting her.

  Steely determination hit. No way would he let her know how screwed up he was. This was his issue, and he’d be damned if she felt even a moment’s discomfort around him. As much as he wanted her, he wanted to take care of her even more because that’s what she needed.

  He hurried into the guest washroom and turned on the cold water, sticking his head under the tap. It would’ve been better if he could have doused his entire body, but the shock helped ease the urgency of his cock. Clay towel-dried his hair, rubbing rapidly until the dark strands stood in all directions as he glanced into the mirror. “I look like a damn hedgehog,” he muttered.

  He dragged his fingers through it best he could before giving up and straightening everything else.

  Maggie’s brows rose sharply when she joined him in the living room. “New fashion statement?”

  “I need to borrow a comb,” he confessed. “Or get a haircut. It’s too long for me to leave it.”

  “Don’t cut it,” she said over her shoulder, pacing back toward the bedroom. “Your hair looks good this length. Well, it looks good when it’s not acting out violently all over your head.”

  She was back in a moment, ignoring his outreached hand and tidying his hair herself. He stood stock still, unsuccessfully ordering his body to remain unaffected. Unlike him, she was completely focused on her task, smoothing the sides, reaching up to use her fingers on the hair over his forehead. She smiled with satisfaction as she pulled it into place.

  Her gaze lowered to meet his, and there was nothing there but genuine affection and amusement. “There, that’s much better.”

  Clay used every bit of acting ability he had to respond lightly instead of ruining everything by blurting out something inappropriate. Or worse, grabbing hold and kissing her until they were both breathless. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

  All through getting into the car with the baskets she’d made for Katy and his father, she chatted and he drilled his brain with the command to stay on guard.

  Being there for her was the only thing he could offer, and he’d damn well better remember that.

  Chapter Three

  Clay pushed open the door and Maggie stepped in ahead of him, entering a world of warmth and heavenly smells.

  The room was filled with Thompson family. Coloured lights glittered on the Christmas tree in the corner, and piles of brightly wrapped boxes of all shapes and sizes were stacked under its base. Cheerful pillows and blankets rested in the few empty chairs, or were draped over the back of the couch.

  Katy came forward with a smile, reaching to take the basket of goodies. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “Thanks for inviting me.”

  Maggie stumbled for a moment on the shoes and boots left scattered at the door before a pair of hands gripped her firmly, holding her as she caught her balance. For a brief moment she was pulled against Clay’s hard body while Katy’s fiancé sheepishly rushed forward to clear space underfoot.

  “Sorry about that,” Gage apologized. “This is what happens when a hoard of family returns to the house they grew up in—we’re pretty casual around here.”

  “No problem.”

  Clay guided her to a clear spot, and she slipped off her shoes, allowing him to take her coat.

  “It’s like running an obstacle course every time,” he grumbled. “Wall-to-wall clutter.”

  “Says the man who never throws anything away.” Gage offered a hand to his best friend, shaking it firmly as if they hadn’t spent most of the week together at the shop. “You have the original packaging for the clock you got the last year of high school.”

  Maggie glanced over her shoulder surprised to see Clay’s cheeks flush red with embarrassment. “Really?”

  He placed his hand on her lower back, his touch protective as he guided her into the room. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous I can find things when I want.”

  Gage chuckled and offered them both drinks. Maggie made her request then wove her way to the empty space next to Clay’s dad. “Mr. Thompson. Merry Christmas.”

  He rose to his feet and ignored the hand she offered him, instead folding her in an enormous bear hug. “Merry Christmas, and I’ll tell you again, call me Keith.”

  He pulled away and stared into her face for a moment before nodding. She worried for a moment he’d say something encouraging and her current tear-free mood would vanish, but he simply caught her fingers and squeezed them before settling on the couch and patting the space next to him. “Sit by me. You’ll be out of the bedlam and have a good view.”

  She joined him, grateful the rest of them seemed occupied with whatever they were doing. Clay’s brothers lifted their heads and offered waves or nods before going back to their activities, but other than that there was no direct focus placed on her.

  Troy was seated on the floor in front of the couch, bent over something. His dark hair fell across his face, nearly as untidy as Clay’s had been. She leaned sideways for a better view as she tried to figure out what he held in his hands.

  “How long are you going to keep tangling with that before you give up?” Janey asked, the trim, long-legged girl looking up from where she and Len Thompson were wrapping a couple of boxes with bright-red paper.

  “I’m not giving up,” Troy insisted. “The three pieces are supposed to come apart, and they just…” He caught hold of what looked like a metal pretzel and shook it, the loose pieces clanging against it like a convoluted Christmas bell.

  “He’s been working on that all afternoon,” Keith shared, speaking softly. “Came in a box with a note that said ‘bet you can’t do it’.”

  Which would explain Troy’s stubborn determination.

  Maggie glanced over by the tree where Mitch Thompson sat in a rocking chair, his tiny nephew propped in his lap. They were close enough to the fire Mitch wore nothing more than a black T-shirt emblazed with the family garage logo. The full-sleeve flame tattoos on his arms were clear, especially the one wrapped around the baby’s torso holding him upright.

  Mitch chatted with Anna as she put another log on the fire, Tanner staring around the room with enormously wide eyes as if soaking it all in.

  Christmas music played in the background, and Clay’s laugh rumbled as he and Katy stepped from the kitchen with plates of food in their hands. Gage rushed forward to clear space on the coffee table, Keith got up and headed toward the table with the drinks.

  The entire place buzzed with motion and energy, and Maggie found herself smiling in spite of the cold spot that was ever-present in her heart.

  When the cushion beside her dipped, she turned with a light heart to ask Keith a question, stopping with a jerk as she looked into Clay’s deep brown eyes. “Oh.”

  He held out a glass. “Your eggnog.”

  She grasped it eagerly to cover her momentary unease. Balancing the cool concoction gave her something to concentrate on.

  Keith was at the front door, pulling on his coat as he excused himself. “I forgot to bring a couple things. I’ll be back in a minute or two.”

  Clay halfway rose to his feet. “I’ll run over to your apartment and grab them.”

  His dad waved him off. “I can do it. You sit and visit.”

  Keith closed the door, and the conversation picked up as the siblings gathered around the coffee table.

  “I am not a Grinch about Christmas,” Anna retorted in defense. “You’ve been working on that puzzle for too long, Troy, it’s affecting your brain.”

  He didn’t bother to look up, focused on unhooking the metal pieces. “I heard you told old Mr. Pfeiffer to turn off his lights.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Down at Traders. The old-timers were talking about it last night, how the
RCMP pulled up in front of his house and got all up in his business. He was quite outraged.”

  A burst of laughter escaped Mitch. Little Tanner tilted his head back and stared at him, mouth hanging open. His uncle gave his nose a pinch before explaining his amusement.

  “I bet Pfeiffer didn’t mention Anna told him to turn off one section of lights because the crazy old man had arranged the lines up and down his weeping willow so perfectly that when he flipped the switch, it looked like a giant penis had sprouted in his front yard.”

  Laughter rumbled across the room. Janey pressed a hand over her mouth to hide a smile, and Katy leaned against Gage’s side, the two of them shaking with amusement.

  Even Troy gave up on his puzzle momentarily, snickering loudly. “Well, that does change things.”

  “What did you say to him, Anna?” Katy dropped to her knees on the other side of the table and picked up a sugar cookie, raising it in a toast to Maggie before popping it in her mouth.

  “It was one of the most awkward conversations ever. Excuse me, sir, but you seem to have a giant phallic symbol on your front lawn. You might want to rethink your decorating scheme.”

  Len grinned. “Wonder what the congregation at the Presbyterian Church across the street thought?”

  “It didn’t fit very well with their nativity scene.” Anna shook her head. “Of course, that’s how we found out. Pfeiffer turned on the lights right when they were coming out of Saturday evening service.”

  “Somebody got an eyeful,” Janey commented, which just resulted in more laughter from the entire group. She rested her fists on her hips and glared at Len who was snickering the loudest. “Bunch of dirty minds, every single one of you.”

  Maggie listened to the continuing chatter and felt included without obligation.

  Eventually Gage slipped across the room and offered the dinner bell to his son who gripped it with a tiny hand and shook it vigorously, eyes widening in surprise at the loud noise.

  “Dinner.” Katy and Janey together gestured them into the kitchen area.

  “And I promise no one’s getting food poisoning this year,” Katy added.

  Maggie leaned briefly against Clay’s solid side to get his attention as they stood in line to go through the narrow doorway. “Is food poisoning a typical part of your Christmas tradition, and if it is, shouldn’t you have warned me?”

  He leaned down, his cheek brushing hers as he whispered in her ear. “Standing joke. The first time Katy cooked a turkey she didn’t know the giblets and the rest were tucked inside the body. Things kind of went downhill from there.”

  The house was small enough Maggie expected they would fill plates and return to the living room, balancing their meals on their laps.

  She stepped through the doorway amazed to see an addition had been built on the back of the house, with floor-to-ceiling windows that would allow light to spill into the room. A long, trestle table with more than enough room for the crowd of people present sat in the middle of the space, tall tapered candles and holly greens decorating the centerpiece.

  “This is beautiful.” She turned to Katy in surprise. “I didn’t know you were adding onto the house.”

  Katy elbowed her best friend in the side. “Since Handy Gal here decided to stick around town, I put her to work. Just finished last week.”

  Maggie nodded in approval. “Great timing, and this is such a wonderful idea. The dining room in our house is far too small. Cameron always said when we started renovations…”

  The words faded as she remembered there would be no renovations. She’d never see Cameron smile with pride as he welcomed friends around their Christmas table.

  She swallowed hard then forced herself to pretend nothing was wrong. Fighting away the tears that could overwhelm her far too quickly. “I bet it’s very bright in here.”

  Katy kindly went along with the abrupt change in topic. “One of the best parts of my day is sitting at the table in the morning with a cup of coffee.”

  Maggie took her place feeling a little more fragile than she had only moments earlier. Determined to stick it out, though, since that’s what Cameron would’ve wanted.

  The girls had outdone themselves. Clay put another scoop of stuffing on his plate before offering Maggie the nearly empty bowl. “Last chance.”

  She shook her head. “It’s delicious, but I’m full.”

  Clay didn’t say anything, but all his warning buzzers went off. She’d barely eaten anything.

  Katy caught his eye from across the table, shaking her head slightly before she slapped Troy’s fingers as he reached in front of her. “Mind your manners,” she warned. “You want your nephew to grow up copying you?”

  Troy shrugged as he nabbed the bowl of potatoes from under Mitch’s fingers. “Sure. Means he’ll be handsome, talented, and able to charm the birds out of the trees.”

  “And humble,” Len muttered. “You forgot that part.”

  “But of course. That goes without saying.” Troy glanced at his third plateful of food and sighed happily. “I don’t know why we don’t do this every week.”

  The boys took turns teasing him as the meal pulled to a close, but Clay was more interested in the woman at his side than in taunting his youngest brother.

  Maggie had grown quieter as the meal progressed, and Clay stayed alert for the first sign the gathering had become too much for her. But every time he was ready to suggest they leave, she seemed to rally. Adding a small quip to the conversation, or asking one of the girls for a recipe.

  Only when Katy told everyone to return to the living room, and they’d have coffee and dessert there, Clay knew it was time. He laid a hand on Maggie’s thigh, holding her in place as the rest of the family left the room. He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “You want dessert? Or have you had enough?”

  Her shaky exhale let him know he was right. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to leave.”

  “No one minds,” he assured her.

  He stood and smiled at Katy and her best friend. “You girls did a great job, but it’s time I took Maggie home.”

  “What?” Janey joked. “You’re leaving before you devastate the apple pies? What is this world coming to?”

  Maggie was at his side as they moved forward, answered quietly, “It’s been wonderful, but I’m…done.”

  Katy pushed her friend aside and gave her a dirty look. “You are such a brat. You know we made them dessert to go.”

  “You made? Try I did,” Janey interrupted with a grin as she grabbed a bag off the counter and held it to Maggie. “That guarantees it’s edible, by the way. Katy’s getting to be a better cook, but adding in her math problems, when she grabs the salt instead of sugar, ain’t nobody who wants to try her custard.”

  “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about that,” Katy complained.

  Maggie offered Katy a hug. “Well, everything was delicious, and I’m glad I joined you.”

  “Anytime.” Katy wrinkled her nose. She briefly poked her head into the noise-filled front room before popping back with a suggestion. “You guys want to sneak out the back way?”

  Clay could sense Maggie was intrigued by that idea, especially when Janey returned to the kitchen with their coats in her hands.

  “I should say goodbye to everyone,” Maggie spoke softly, hesitation sneaking in.

  Janey waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone enjoyed seeing you. We’re glad you came.”

  “And, Clay, we’re opening presents at eleven tomorrow morning. Don’t be late,” Katy said before she slapped her hand against her forehead. “What am I saying? Of course you won’t be late. You’re I’m always there early Thompson.”

  Clay tweaked her nose much like Mitch had done to Tanner earlier in the evening. “Thanks for the great dinner, sis, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He helped Maggie down the back stairs and around the side of the house.

  They were nearly to her house before she spoke. “I should’ve taken my
own car. You didn’t need to leave the party yet.”

  “Oh, yes, I did.” Clay said, his relief showing. “Every Christmas Eve after dinner Katy comes up with a new way to torment us all. Gage let it slip that she got a karaoke machine that hooks to the TV, and she’s planning on putting everyone into teams and making them sing for the rest of the evening.”

  “Oh dear. I can see why you didn’t want to stay.”

  Some of the tension had drained out of her, even a touch of amusement back in her voice. Clay acted affronted. “Hey, is that a comment about my singing ability?”

  She twisted in her seat to face him. “Yes.”

  Clay chuckled. “How often have you heard me sing?”

  “When you’re sober?”

  He pulled into the driveway in front of her house. “I resent that statement. That makes it sound like I was always drunk around your place.”

  “Not at all. But the few times you and Cameron tied one on…”

  They sat in silence for a moment. Cam was gone, and damn it, Clay missed him.

  He pushed open the door and walked around to help her out, pausing with his hands on top of the door because he had to say something. Had to turn this from a moment where they’d both end up focusing on what they’d lost instead of what they had—great memories of a special man. “You’re right. Cam was terrible when it came to taunting me into making a fool of myself. Every single time he managed to pull one over on me.”

  Her feet slipped on the skiff of fresh snow on the driveway, and he tightened his grip, slipping his arm around her waist as he walked toward the back door. “You were his favourite person to play practical jokes on,” she admitted.

  He walked all the way in, not hesitating when she suggested he join her for a drink. “I made you miss your apple pie, you should share mine.”

  “I didn’t have the heart to tease Janey. That apple-pie incident that she referred to?” Clay followed Maggie into the kitchen and helped her gather plates. “The winter after Mom died, the girls decided to hold a bake sale to raise money for Christmas shopping, and back then neither of them were very good cooks. I snuck a piece from one of the pies and realized they’d forgotten to core the apples.”