My Holiday Reunion: A Second Chance Holiday Romance

by Weston Parker

  I took some too. We left one on the plate after Cal nibbled on it like it was a mini corn on the cob. Then we each took one of the cookies, and shortly before we went to bed, Cal poured half the warm milk down the kitchen sink and washed away the evidence.

  He winked at me as I saw him doing it. “It’s all part of the illusion.”

  I shook my head and folded my arms as I leaned on the kitchen doorframe. “No, it’s all part of the magic.”

  23

  Callum

  There was no warning, but I should have known. It was Christmas morning, after all, and Asher had woken up every year at five in the morning on the dot and come running down the hall to my room to throw himself on top of me while yelling at me to wake up already.

  “Dad! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!”

  Little hands patted my cheeks, and then he was up on his feet with them planted on either side of me, jumping up and down.

  But I was bouncing far too much for just Asher to be jumping.

  I groaned and cracked one eye open. My room was still dark, but I could see her.

  Lina.

  She was kneeling beside me, rocking up and down like a big kid. Her hair was loose and lightly curled. She was wearing red plaid pyjamas, and I could tell she was smiling. “Good morning, Cal,” she called. “Are you awake?”

  “I am now,” I said.

  Lina slid off the bed with a giggle and wrapped her arms around Asher. “Time to get up, Cal. We’re ready to go downstairs and see what Santa left behind!”

  Asher grabbed my hand and pulled. I pretended he was a man of great strength and fell out of the bed, which earned me an uproarious bout of laughter from my son, who collapsed beside me while clutching his ribs. I pulled him in for a hug, messed up his hair, and kissed the top of his head. “Merry Christmas, kiddo.”

  “Merry Christmas, Dad!”

  Asher was up and on his feet again, tugging at my wrist, pleading with me to hurry up. Lina had gone to the doorway and was waiting for us both. She was smiling and had her arms crossed. “Your father was awake and heading downstairs when Asher came to get me. He said he’d start a pot of coffee.”

  I stood up. Asher bolted out the door, down the hall, and stopped at the top of the stairs. He wasn’t allowed to go down until I went down. It was a household family rule that my wife had put in place to guarantee that she and I would be there to see his face when he saw what Santa had left him overnight.

  Lina fell into step beside me as we walked to the top of the stairs. I nudged her in the ribs with my elbow. “You should have led with coffee. It would have helped.”

  Asher peered up at me. “Can we go down now? Please?”

  “All right, Ash, go ahead. Watch your step. Don’t go too fast.”

  Asher took off full speed down the stairs. Lina and I were hot on his heels as he spun himself around with one hand on the final banister. His socked feet slid on the hardwood as he turned to the tree, and he let out a shrill shriek followed by a deep, awe-filled gasp.

  “Look, Dad! Look!”

  Lina and I feigned surprise as we turned in a wide circle in the middle of the room. The stockings were overflowing. The gifts under the tree shimmered under the lights and spread outward like a snow bank.

  My father appeared from the kitchen with a tray of coffees, creamers, and sugar, and a cup of chocolate milk for Asher. We grabbed our drinks and picked our spots on the sofa as Asher flitted from tree to stockings, gushing all the while and talking a mile a minute.

  “All right, Ash,” I said. “Do you want to play Santa and hand out everyone’s stocking stuffers? One at a time?”

  Asher nodded. He darted to the stockings, picked up a wrapped parcel from each of our piles, and then handed them out to us. I watched Lina hold her parcel, which was wrapped in gold wrapping. It wasn’t much. Just a bar of soap that smelled like lavender—a scent I knew was her favorite. I hoped it would help her remember but doubted it would.

  We set to opening the first round after my father confirmed that breakfast was in the oven.

  Lina’s memory wasn’t stirred by any of her stocking stuffers. Not the soap or the bottle of pink nail polish that used to be her favorite color to rock when we were together. Not the box of her favorite candies or the Wilson Phillips CD.

  I did my best to hide my disappointment. Today was about Asher.

  And it was a good day for him.

  He tore through the stocking stuffers like a Tasmanian devil, and by the time we had unwrapped everything, we had massive piles of wrapping paper all over the place. The timer for breakfast went off, and Asher let out a loud groan as he sat on the carpet on his knees. “Can I open one present before breakfast?”

  “One,” I told him. “But that’s it. And you don’t get to pick it. I do.” I went to the tree and picked up a box near the outskirts of the pile. It was wrapped in red paper with little snowmen on it. Lina had wrapped this one. It was tied with a beautiful ribbon with curled ends.

  Asher tore into it to reveal a new winter jacket. He lifted it up, pretended to love it, and be excited about it, and then left it on the sofa as we all went and cut into the breakfast soufflé.

  We brought our plates and fresh cups of coffee back into the living room to eat under the glow of the Christmas tree. My father laughed and joked about the silly things he had opened in his stocking: dental floss, shaving cream, new socks, and a near lifetime supply of gum, among other things.

  After breakfast, we cleaned up our plates, got a big garbage bag, and collected the first big mess of the morning. Asher ran around wadding up balls of wrapping paper, and I held open the bag for him to throw them in. This became a game rather quickly, and soon, everyone was shooting rolled-up pieces of paper at me, rather than at the bag. Naturally, I joined in the fun and used the balls that actually landed in the bag.

  This, of course, only made the clean up take longer. But it was fun.

  By the time we sat down to open the main gifts, it was past seven in the morning. This was always the main event for Asher. I made it a point to make sure he was patient and grateful. Only one person opened a gift at a time. That way, the giver could watch the receiver, and vice versa. It made the whole morning last longer, and it was fun for us adults too. Otherwise, the whole thing would be over in fifteen minutes as Asher tore through present after present like a little madman.

  Lina was shocked that I had managed to get her a present at all. She opened the gift, lifted the box, and gasped at the contents: a red cashmere scarf lined with gold thread. It was quite beautiful, and when I saw it in the store, I knew she had to have it. She lifted it out of the box and rubbed the material between her thumb and forefinger before holding the scarf to her chest. “It’s beautiful, Cal. Thank you.”

  My father was thrilled with his gift, too. In the fall, he had told me about an old toy airplane he used to have when he was a kid. It was a wooden plane attached to a long string. You had to spin it around you fast enough to create wind under the wings, and then you could fly it in a circle, old fashion style. No motors or engines or propellers or batteries. Just physics.

  I had found an original online and ordered it immediately. He was overjoyed, and Asher asked if they could play with it later. I was sure my father was more excited about play time than Asher was.

  I received a new handmade Christmas ornament from Asher, as was our annual tradition. I hung it on the tree and admired the bright colors and swirling patterns he had painted on the orb. My father gave me some new clothes, as well as some new tools he knew I was in need of.

  All in all, it was a great Christmas morning.

  After the second round of clean up, Asher fell asleep on the sofa surrounded by a bunch of his new toys. Lina was kneeling in front of the tree, reorganizing everything so that when Asher woke up, he could see all of his gifts.

  My father pulled me into the kitchen.

  “What’s up, Dad?”

  He lowered his voice. “I think I’m goi
ng to take Asher to my house. Just for the afternoon. I have the tools I need there to build the plane, and he and I can do it together.”

  “Uh, okay. Why?”

  “You need to talk with Lina.”

  I blinked at him. “What?”

  “You need to tell her the truth, Cal. This just… it doesn’t feel right to me anymore. She spent Christmas morning here with us. Doesn’t that seem odd? Not that I didn’t want her here, but if things were different, I think it’s very obvious that this isn’t where she would have chosen to spend the holidays. Am I wrong?”

  I frowned. “No, but—”

  “There’s no way you can spin this to make me think differently, Cal. You know what is right and what is wrong. You always have. And this is certainly not right. Not anymore. You need to come clean. Tell her who you are to her. Then and now.”

  “Right now? On Christmas day? I want to spend the day with my son, Dad.”

  “I was hoping you’d have told her before now, too. But you didn’t. So here we are. I’ll only be gone a couple hours. Tops.”

  I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. “All right, fine.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “It needs to be done.”

  I shrugged him off but nodded. “I know.”

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile before going into the living room. I followed him in and woke Asher, who blinked blurrily up at me and nodded when I told him he was going to Grandpa’s to play with the plane. Lina and I would clean up here, and then when they came home, turkey dinner would be cooking away.

  Asher left without protest but insisted on taking some of his new presents. I put up no argument to that.

  Once they had gone, Lina came and sat beside me on the couch. She tucked her legs up under herself and rested her elbow on the back of the couch. “So, what was that all about? I wasn’t expecting Asher to leave. Or your dad.”

  I rubbed at my eyes. “Yeah, I know. Me neither. It’s sort of complicated.”

  “We don’t have to talk about it.”

  But we do.

  She patted my knee. “I’m going to make us some morning mimosas. How about it?”

  I nodded. She got up and went into the kitchen. I listened to her whip up the drinks. She came back within minutes with two champagne flutes full of bubbling orange liquid. When she handed me mine, I drank thankfully.

  Lina sat cross-legged on the sofa and watched me as she drank hers, too. “Today must be hard without your wife here,” she said after a couple of minutes. “For you and for Asher. Do you miss her?”

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Very much.”

  She nodded. “I can only imagine. Asher is a well-adjusted little boy. You’re doing a great job with him. You can tell he doesn’t feel like he’s missing out, although I’m sure his mother was a very special woman.”

  “She was.”

  Lina looked down at her lap. “What happened to her, Cal?”

  My chest ached. An empty pit opened up inside me and threatened to swallow me whole. I clenched my jaw and fought down the lump in my throat. “It was a long time ago.”

  Lina understood that I couldn’t answer her question. She reached over and put her hand on my knee. “It’s okay. It’s like you said. Life happens, right? And it can be ugly.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I studied her. Her full lips, bright cheeks, and light green eyes. Her lashes, dark and full and casting shadows on her cheeks. “I’m just glad there is such a thing as a second chance.”

  Before I realized what I was doing, I reached out, took her wrist, and pulled her to me. Her lips parted like she knew what I needed from her. Her lips sealed over mine.

  She tasted exactly like she used to. Sweet. Like oranges.

  24

  Lina

  We were kissing.

  Oh God. We’re kissing.

  Cal’s hand cupped my cheek as his tongue slipped between my lips and explored my mouth with curiosity—and hunger. I opened up to him, completely willing to succumb to his demands, and he pushed me back a bit, forcing me to lean back on one hand.

  I didn’t understand how, of all the things I’d done since waking up in the hospital, this felt the most right.

  He tasted like champagne and citrus and smelled like pine and sandalwood. His stubble along my cheek gave me goosebumps and shot white-hot sparks of need from my lips to my center, and then down, down to the spot between my legs that had been aching the previous night as I looked at him up on that rooftop.

  Desire. Lust. Need.

  I gave into it, wrapping my hands in the collar of his shirt and pulling him down on top of me as I laid down on the sofa. He braced himself above me with his tongue still in my mouth. The hand on my cheek moved down my neck, where he traced my jaw with his thumb. Then he was going lower and lower, until he used that same thumb to run along the inside of the waistband of my pajamas.

  I giggled into his mouth and held on to his shirt tighter. Then, without meaning to, I whimpered his name.

  Cal paused, brushed my hair off my face, and smiled down at me. “You’re so beautiful, Lina. So damn beautiful.”

  My cheeks grew hot. I was trapped beneath him, but I didn’t mind. The weight of his body above me and his warmth were reassuring. I wanted him to control me. To put me where he wanted.

  To do to me what he wanted.

  Whatever he wanted.

  But I had no idea how to tell him that. So I decided to show him.

  I released his shirt and held his face in my hands, drawing his down to me for more wet, desperate kisses. He moaned softly into my mouth and slid a hand up the inside of my shirt. His fingers crept over my lace bra, and he cupped my breast, giving it a firm squeeze that had me panting beneath him.

  How was I so susceptible to his touch?

  My skin felt like it was on fire. The place below my belly was burning up, and that tight knot had reformed, but this time much more intensely. The pressure was building by the second, and I knew I needed a release.

  “I want you to fuck me,” I whispered.

  Cal pinched my bottom lip between his teeth. I moaned. He reached beneath me and unclasped my bra. “I’m going to make you forget your own name.”

  I arched an eyebrow at him.

  He smiled sheepishly. “Bad choice of words.”

  I giggled and threw my head back. He rained kisses down my neck, along my jaw, and toward my ear. He nibbled my earlobe and made up for sharp pinches with sweet kisses. Then he took the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. He pulled my bra off my arms, and I lay beneath him, topless.

  I wasn’t shy. Not at all. I wanted him to look at me, at this body that still didn’t feel like mine but was.

  It definitely felt more like mine now than it ever had.

  I peeled his shirt off him.

  Cal was a masterpiece of muscle and veins beneath the fabric. His body was a work of art, and the definition shocked me. I ran my fingers over his shoulders and down his arms as he held himself above me, staring down at me with those big blue eyes of his.

  He traced a hand between my breasts, down the middle of my stomach, and past my navel. He paused at the waistband of my plaid pajamas and then pulled them away from my stomach to slip his hand down the front and inside my panties.

  I gasped when he touched me, and he grinned.

  I bit down hard on my bottom lip as he swirled his finger over my clit, rolling it in a gentle circle that had my insides feeling like they might burst with pleasure. I tried to hold on to the moan that threatened to escape. I had to keep it together a little while longer. I couldn’t fall apart at his first touch. That was—

  “Madness,” I moaned.

  Cal cocked his head and stopped rubbing my clit. “Madness?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You said ‘madness’.”

  I blinked up at him. “I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was just—” I blushed. “It felt really good.”

  Cal smiled, dropped h
is head, and trailed kisses up the side of my neck. He bit my ear. “Good,” he growled.

  Then he slipped a finger inside me. I gripped the sofa cushions and sucked in a sharp breath. Cal knew what he was doing. He curled his fingers up and then flicked them quickly inside of me while he pressed down on my clit with his thumb.

  Little white stars appeared behind my eyelids when I found it impossible to keep my eyes open. Cal continued kissing my neck and then worked his way down, kissing my chest and tits and ribs and stomach. All the while, he fucked me with his fingers, working me over in a way I didn’t know was even possible, until all at once, the pressure and the tension and the heat became too much.

  “I’m going to come,” I moaned.

  “Yes, baby,” Cal said.

  And I came. I cried out as my body took over and trembled. Cal moaned and sucked my nipple as I coated his fingers in my juices. When I was done, he pulled his fingers out and licked them clean.

  That turned me on even more.

  I hurried to pull my pants down. They got tangled up around my ankles, and Cal and I giggled like high school kids as I struggled to get free of them. Once they were off, I worked to pull down Cal’s sweats. He was wearing skin-tight black boxers underneath that left little to the imagination. The swell of his cock beneath the thin fabric had me salivating at the sight of it.

  I swallowed and looked up to meet his eye. He was smiling at me. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he said teasingly.

  “You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  I rolled his boxers down. His cock sprang free and stretched up to his belly button. I couldn’t look away. It was impressive. His length was as glorious as his thickness, and his meaty head glistened with a drop of precum.

  I went to shimmy down between his legs to take him in my mouth, but Cal stopped me. He put me back where I was. The effortless way he moved me around had me panting.