The Wish Maker (The Billionaires 0f Silicon Forest Book 2) Page 11

  “I want to come back next year.”

  “Me, too.”

  But a question lingered. Given the silence, he wondered if she was thinking the same thing as him.

  Who would be with Paige next year?

  Wes didn’t want to think about it. “I’m happy you’re here today with me.”

  “Me, too.” Paige grinned, not the closed-mouth smile, but a full-on one with teeth. “Thanks for the invitation.”

  “Wes!” Mason shouted before pointing to the ceiling. “Look up.”

  A ball of mistletoe hung from a red ribbon.

  Uh-oh. Wes’s heart plummeted to his feet.

  Paige stiffened.

  Things were going well with her tonight. He didn’t want anything to ruin it.

  Henry swirled his date until he stood next to them. “You’d better kiss, or you’ll have bad luck in the new year.”

  “Kiss, kiss, kiss,” Adam and Kieran chanted.

  Dash made a smacking sound with his lips.

  Wes rolled his eyes. By egging him on, his friends were once again proving, despite their billions, they were teenagers in men’s bodies. He got it. This was what they did, juvenile or not. But he hated putting Paige on the spot. “We don’t have to kiss.”

  She shrugged. “It’s tradition. And who wants a year of bad luck?”

  He didn’t. “If you’re game…”

  Something flickered in her eyes but disappeared before he could decipher it. “I am.”

  That was the only invitation he needed.

  Wes lowered his mouth to hers. He would make this brief. A brush of his lips. A peck.

  At the moment of contact, something sparked between them, shooting through him to the tips of his toes.

  What was that? A static shock?

  He might have cared more about the questions if he hadn’t realized they were kissing.

  Her lips were soft and warm. She tasted sweet with a hint of chocolate—the cake. Wanting more, he pressed his mouth harder against hers, his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

  She went eagerly, cutting the distance between them in half.

  Wes’s fingers on his free hand laced with Paige’s—tightened. His mouth moved over hers, exploring and tasting.

  This.

  This is what I’ve been missing.

  Not only when he was sick.

  But his entire life.

  Paige’s kiss rocked him to his core. Nothing had ever felt like this.

  Warning bells sounded in his head.

  He ignored them.

  He wanted to soak up all of her and her kiss…

  Common sense shouted to back away now.

  He didn’t.

  Couldn’t.

  Paige was everything Wes hadn’t known he needed, and he didn’t want to let her go.

  * * *

  Wes was kissing her. Under the mistletoe, and only to ward off bad luck, but it was still a kiss.

  A fantastic one.

  The best one ever?

  She’d need more to know for sure.

  As his lips moved over hers, Paige arched against him, wanting to bridge what small space remained between them. She tasted a tantalizing combination of heat, salt, and chocolate that had her wanting more.

  Just a mistletoe kiss.

  Logically, she knew that.

  A holiday tradition.

  She knew that, too.

  They were only playing along.

  Nothing more.

  But kissing him was like…magic.

  Pleasurable sensations pulsed through Paige. She relished each tingle, every chill, losing herself in the moment.

  In him.

  She splayed her hand, the fabric of his jacket brushing against her palm.

  Solid and strong.

  A moan sounded.

  She froze.

  Wait. Was that her?

  Heat flooded her face.

  What was she doing?

  Paige jerked back, but she didn’t get far with Wes’s arm around her.

  Her lips no longer touched Wes’s, but their faces were close. Not quite kissing distance, but if she moved forward an inch…

  He stared at her. His breathing appeared to be as ragged as hers.

  His friends clapped and cheered.

  Ugh. This was one side of his friends she didn’t appreciate. Given Wes’s frown, he likely agreed.

  “Some kiss,” Blaise said.

  Mason laughed. “Plus-one for the win.”

  “And my streak continues.” Henry beamed.

  Paige’s cheeks burned. She forced herself not to cringe or hunch her shoulders. Standing in the center of the dance floor left her no place to hide from the curious stares of strangers or people she hardly knew. Her muscles tensed. She struggled against the fight-or-flight instinct trying to take over.

  She was used to being in front of other doctors or speaking at medical conferences, but that was different. She hated this kind of attention. And she didn’t appreciate others turning something so personal—so precious and intimate—into a joke with her and Wes as the punchline.

  Not right.

  Especially when she had no idea what had happened.

  It was a kiss.

  Just a kiss.

  Except the kiss felt like so much more.

  Did he feel the same way as her? Or was he thinking about Annabelle?

  That thought doused Paige like a bucket of ice water.

  His and his ex-girlfriend’s words from earlier pounded in her head. That told Paige exactly what this kiss meant to him.

  N-O-T-H-I-N-G.

  Time to regain control and forget the kiss.

  Tomorrow she could forget him.

  Paige inhaled, hoping to slow her heart rate and pulse, but all she got was a whiff of Wes’s scent, tickling her nose and making her want another kiss.

  Ugh.

  This was so not good.

  “Kudos,” Henry said. “Now get out of the way so others can try to up your silver screen romantic kiss.”

  She was happy to step aside, so she shrugged out of Wes’s grasp to let Brett and Laurel take their place under the mistletoe.

  Guess that was the popular spot tonight.

  Paige wasn’t one for regrets, but a part of her wished she hadn’t kissed Wes. She had a feeling all future kisses would be judged against his.

  “Let’s sit.” Wes sounded calm as if the kiss had been no big deal, when he’d redefined her definition of a kiss.

  Paige followed him. He pulled out her chair, and she sat.

  Wes rubbed the back of his neck. He started to speak but then pressed his lips together.

  Something was going on with him. The kiss or maybe Annabelle. Paige might as well ask. “You okay?”

  “I’ll get us drinks.” He didn’t answer her question, so either he was avoiding it or he could be thirsty. “What would you like?”

  “Ginger ale.” She’d only had one glass of Chardonnay with dinner, but that was enough.

  Especially around Wes, who’d left her nerve endings dancing and her lips begging for more kisses.

  Stupid.

  Applause sounded.

  With big grins on their faces and their eyes full of hearts, Brett and Laurel stepped aside.

  Blaise and Hadley took their place under the mistletoe.

  Kissing Wes didn’t mean anything.

  Paige repeated the phrase. Maybe it didn’t, but she’d kissed boyfriends and dates. No one had ever kissed her the way Wes had.

  Made her feel so treasured and alive.

  Her crush suddenly felt like a frustrating annoyance. One she wanted to move on from and forget about ASAP.

  Wes set her drink and a pint of beer on the table before sitting. He picked up his glass and took a sip.

  Her hands trembled, so she didn’t trust herself with a full glass yet. Spilling all over herself wasn’t how she wanted to end the evening. She flexed her fingers.

  “Thanks for playing along,�
� he said finally.

  Did that mean he didn’t think the kiss was out-of-this-world? Of course it did. She forced a smile, one she hoped appeared nonchalant, which was the exact opposite of how she felt discussing what happened on the dance floor.

  “It’s a Christmastime tradition.” Somehow, she kept her voice even and free of emotion. The steadiness surprised her.

  He nodded.

  “You’re a good kisser, too.” Oops, she hadn’t meant to say that.

  “Thanks.” Wes smiled, almost shyly, which was unexpected. “You are, too.”

  So this wasn’t awkward. At least, he hadn’t thought the kiss sucked. “Thanks.”

  Which was how he’d replied, but she didn’t know what else to say.

  “I should have asked Jim and Nora to hang mistletoe at the lodge.”

  Paige wasn’t about to think that meant he wanted to kiss her again. Her hopes—however a longshot they might be—had been dashed this afternoon. “There’s time before Christmas.”

  Wes’s gaze met hers. “I meant for…tonight. For us.”

  Oh. Anticipation rocketed through Paige. She shouldn’t be so excited, but she wiggled her toes. Guess he liked the kiss as much as she did. That was a good thing. It had to be.

  “We’re both smart,” she said. “We can figure something out if you want.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

  She nodded, not feeling as certain as she acted, but being in the medical field had allowed her to hone that skill.

  “Dude.” Dash clapped Wes on the back. “We need to bid. Some guy named Sean Hughes outbid us.”

  “Sean owns Hughes Snowboard, a local manufacturer with a store on Main Street,” Wes explained. “He’s a mountain rescue volunteer.”

  “Good for him, but one of us needs to win.” Dash sounded outraged.

  Wes appeared ready to laugh, but somehow held himself together. “Go show him no one messes with our bidding.”

  “Come with me,” Dash pressed. “So you can outbid me. Or I can let you go first since you’re the old man of the group.”

  “Very funny, kiddo,” Wes said, dryly.

  “Do you mind if he leaves you for a few minutes?” Dash asked her.”

  Wes glanced at Paige, who saw the question in his eyes. For some reason, he appeared to want her permission, which was sweet but unnecessary.

  “Go ahead,” she encouraged. The bidding war was a time-honored tradition between the guys. From what she’d heard earlier, this was Wes’s first fundraising event since his diagnosis. “I need to figure out my wish.”

  “Wish?”

  She motioned to the stars in the centerpiece. “Each is an ornament with a slot in the back. Everyone at the dinner is supposed to write a Christmas wish on their table number card, stick it into a star, and take it home.”

  He glanced from her to the stars. “Why didn’t I know that?”

  “I didn’t know, either,” Dash said.

  She smiled at them. “People with the snowflake lanyards visited each table while you guys were at the silent auction.”

  “Oh.” Dash grinned. “We were too preoccupied to care. That’s what happens at auctions.”

  Not just at auctions, but Paige kept her smile in check. “I have a feeling you might lose sight of a few things whenever you’re together.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Dash admitted. “Let’s go.”

  “Think of a good wish.” Wes kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Paige watched him go and then stared at the closest star ornament. She knew what she wanted, but Wes was making her long for something…more. Should she waste a wish if it had no chance of coming true?

  CHAPTER NINE

  After placing his final bid, Wes returned to the table. He hadn’t wanted to leave Paige earlier, but she’d seemed to want him to go with Dash. For the best. Wes might have kissed her again had he stayed. But they had plenty of time after the dinner ended. Casual kisses with or without mistletoe sounded good to him. He hoped she agreed.

  Until they were alone later, Wes would be on his best behavior around his friends, who watched him with sly glances and lopsided grins. That told him he might have gotten carried away kissing Paige.

  He had.

  And would do it again.

  So sue him.

  If Wes could package the tingles he’d felt with her lips against his, he would make another billion. He couldn’t wait for more kisses, but giving the guys more ammunition wasn’t happening.

  Oh, he could take it, but Paige had been uncomfortable when his friends pointed out the mistletoe and the ribbing ensued. He didn’t want her feeling that way again.

  She stared up at him. “Do you think you’ll win the tasting?”

  “I gave it my best shot, but Dash is determined to walk home with it, and so is Blaise.” Wes had made a final bid before walking away, not caring what his friends did. He would rather spend the rest of the evening with Paige. “No matter who wins, OMSAR will be happy with the money, and all of us will be included when the tasting happens.”

  Paige was part of the “all,” but he wasn’t ready to say that to her right now. Soon, though.

  As the DJ played a popular song, she swayed to the music. That gave Wes an idea. If kissing had to wait, he could think of an alternative. He extended his arm. “May I have this dance?”

  “I’d love to dance again.” Eyes twinkling, Paige took his hand, lacing her fingers with his—a simple gesture but one he could get used to easily—and stood.

  A new song played and then another. At wedding receptions—three during the past five months—Wes couldn’t remember dancing so much or having as much fun.

  Champagne bottles popped.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ announced. “That’s the signal the night is coming to a close. This is the final song.”

  When the music stopped, they returned to their table and sat. Servers passed out champagne-filled flutes. Wes took two and handed one to Paige. Her face was flushed from dancing. A silver star ornament was in front of her. He must have missed that on the table before.

  “Is your wish inside the star?” he asked.

  Staring at the ornament, her gaze softened. “Yes.”

  “What did you wish for?” he asked.

  Paige’s forehead creased. “If you tell someone, it won’t come true.”

  “You told me about the twenty-five million,” he reminded.

  “I thought you were Santa.”

  He had a solution. “Picture me with a beard, glasses, hat, suit, and boots.”

  Paige studied him before shaking her head. “I can’t.”

  Her expression made him laugh. “Okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

  She motioned to the centerpiece where one star remained. “You haven’t made your wish.”

  Wes hadn’t. He didn’t need to. His money could make any wish come true except for…

  “You thought of one,” she said as if reading his mind.

  His lips parted. “How did you know?”

  “Your expression changed.” Perceptive, but her medical training could have taught her that. She pushed his table number card and a pen toward him. “Have at it. I won’t peek.”

  Wes scribbled Remain healthy. Money couldn’t buy him that. As he set the pen on the table, something else came to him.

  Love.

  A word as clear as if someone had spoken. Only this was inside his head.

  Where did that come from?

  His imagination. Either that or he’d had one too many drinks. That made the most sense because that was the last thing he wanted. He dropped the pen onto the table.

  “Finished?” she asked.

  Wes focused on the card. No reason to look anywhere else—at anyone else.

  Nope. What he wrote was a great Christmas wish. He needed nothing more. “Yes.”

  “Fold the card and put it inside the star,” she instructed.

  He did, removed the last sta
r from the centerpiece, and stuck the paper into the back.

  Done.

  Except it didn’t feel finished.

  “Now, you can hang the star on your tree.”

  Maybe once he was home, he’d get his head where it needed to be.

  “And now, a final word before we say goodnight,” the DJ said.

  Bill Paulson, a firefighter and mountain rescuer who Wes had gotten to know over the years, held a microphone in one hand and a flute filled with bubbly in the other.

  “That’s my Billy,” a middle-aged woman said from a nearby table.

  “Hey, Mom,” Bill called out.

  The crowd laughed, and the woman grinned.

  “I want to thank our chairpersons for tonight. This is the third year that Leanne and Christian Welton have run the event, and each Christmas Magic in Hood Hamlet celebration keeps getting better.” Bill raised his glass. “Thanks for the magical day, and good luck next year.”

  As people cheered, Bill drank.

  Paige tapped her glass against Wes’s. Despite the noise in the room, the chime hung in the air. “I wonder what they’ll add.”

  She took a sip.

  So did Wes.

  Seeing her happy pleased him. He leaned closer, putting his arm around the back of her chair. “My guess is candy canes.”

  She tilted her head as if pondering the idea. “I could see that.”

  Instead of lowering his arm, he kept it around her. Scooting closer would be nice, but not with the way Blaise was eyeing him with curiosity.

  Bill raised his glass again. “I also want to acknowledge our sponsors: Welton Winery, Welton Wines and Chocolates, Hood Hamlet Flowers, Hughes Snowboards, and the Mount Hood Brewing Company. Today, and especially this dinner, happened because of their support.”

  The crowd applauded.

  “And a final thanks to all of you,” Bill said sincerely. “For being here and bidding on the great auction items. We couldn’t pull this off without you. Oregon Mountain Search and Rescue and Hood Hamlet Fire and Rescue appreciate your support.”

  The crowd cheered. A few people whistled.

  Bill blew a kiss to a pregnant blonde who smiled at him. “Don’t forget to write your Christmas wish on the card with your table number and place it in a star from the centerpieces. Please take it with you when you leave. A favor you can hang on your tree at home as a thank you from OMSAR and Hood Hamlet Fire and Rescue. Remember, we’re celebrating Christmas magic today, so it’s okay to make a big wish.”