But that didn’t mean love wasn’t a worthy pursuit or that he didn’t want it.
“You’re not going to talk me out of it,” she said softly. “I’m happy. I have lots of friends and a wonderful, exciting job. Those things fill my life with all the companionship and intimacy and love I need. I get that there are exceptions to the rule, that romance and relationships work for some people. That it doesn’t hurt them like it has hurt me. But they’re the exceptions.”
He nodded and rolled over onto his back. Her words shouldn’t have gutted him, but they did.
“I understand why you feel that way. I wish … Well, I like you, but I respect that you don’t want that with me.”
“It’s not only you, Perry. It’s everyone. Anyone. You and I—we could be friends. We could definitely fuck again. But not—”
“I get it.” He didn’t want to hear her reject him again. He took an unsteady breath. “I think … Maybe I crave security and love, especially with my life all over the place. That’s what I want.”
Two nights with Sasha and his emotions were already getting away from him. There was no way he could do this regularly, not without falling for her.
I don’t want to get hurt.
“It’s a good thing to want,” she said. “It’s important to know yourself, to know what works for you and what doesn’t.”
“But that means that this”— he gestured between them—“doesn’t work. Or, that it won’t, eventually.”
Her jaw clenched, and sadness flooded her eyes for a second before she blinked it away. “Yeah. We had a fun two days, though.”
She pulled the sheet up over their heads until they were enclosed in it, intimate and warm. They stared into each other’s eyes, memorizing the moment. And each other. He had been in a lot of relationships and had believed himself in love a time or two, but he’d never felt this stripped down. Never wished that morning would never come.
After a few minutes, Sasha yawned, and he pulled her deeper into his arms.
“Is sex always like this for you? Always so … close?” he whispered.
She reached up and cupped his jaw sloppily, her eyelids losing their fight against sleep.
“No. Not like this.”
Chapter Eight
The sound of large machinery crunching through the snow woke Sasha up at eight in the morning.
Snowplow.
The snowfall was supposed to have stopped around seven, and Valerie had obviously hired a plow to clear the driveway. The temperature was set to jump above freezing around eight thirty, which should melt the remaining ice on the hill and make it possible for Sasha to leave. There was only a short window, though, as a second round of snow and freezing temperatures was on its way later in the morning.
She watched Perry sleep for several minutes, trying to urge her body out of bed and away from him. Easier said than done. He was warm and cuddly, his handsome face slack with sleep. She wanted to run her fingers through his messy mop of hair and touch the fine bones of his face.
But she did neither of those things.
Sasha didn’t want to have an emotional goodbye with Perry. She didn’t want to have to see the hurt in his eyes again, because last night it had gutted her.
He didn’t stir as she slithered out of bed and silently put her clothes back on. Maybe he was a deep sleeper. What else could she learn about him if she allowed herself to stick around?
As she was about to make the walk-of-shame through the adjoining bathroom, she froze. She wanted to give him something, needed to actually. A gift to remember her by.
She quietly unzipped her red bag and pulled out a box. There was a bright green ribbon on the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, so she filched it and tied a bow around the box. If only she weren’t such a Scrooge, she’d be the best Santa in all the land.
As she placed Perry’s gift on the bedside table, he reached out and caressed her wrist. She jumped out of her skin and dropped the box onto the hardwood floor.
“Sweet baby Jesus, you scared me. You’re always making me fumble shit.”
“Maybe you’re just not very observant.” His voice was sleep-roughened and sweet. She smiled at him.
“That’s true.”
“Is that for me?”
“Yes. I like giving you presents.”
He blinked sleepily. “I think you’re better at this Christmas thing than you give yourself credit for. You have a generous spirit.”
His words hit her in the chest and filled her with a strange longing.
“Go back to sleep. You’re not making any sense.”
His gaze flitted to the box on the floor, and she had to stifle a giggle. She was ridiculous.
“Is that a prostate massager?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s a parting gift.”
He laughed. “Well, Happy Holidays to me, I guess.”
“You think you’ll enjoy it?”
“I do.” A blush rose up through his beard. “I’ve never used one, but fingers are a thing, and I happen to know I like that.”
“You’re a diamond in the rough, Perry.” She leaned in and kissed his mouth tenderly. “You’ll be the highlight of my Christmas.”
He caught her chin and kissed her harder, but then he let her go.
He let her go.
She shouldn’t be sad about that. She wanted him to let her go, but part of her rebelled. Some soft, gooey piece of her heart wanted to spend the perfect Christmas with this man who loved the holiday in a way she’d never understand.
But she wanted safety more. Wanted her heart intact. Wanted to muddle through another holiday season without being heartbroken.
“Bye, Perry.”
He shook his head, as if he was trying to wake himself up, but his eyes were already closing.
“Give me a second, and I’ll walk you out. To say goodbye.”
“No. I want to remember you like this. Warm and rosy and half-asleep. Beautiful. I don’t want to drag it out.”
His body seemed to slump back on the bed, though he hadn’t moved. Maybe it was more of an emotional reaction that she could read in every line of his being.
She patted his leg awkwardly when he didn’t say anything. Then she grabbed her bag and moved toward the bathroom door.
“It was nice to meet you,” he said.
Such simple words. Meaningless really and cold. Formal. Not full of the emotion she’d seen from him for two days, and it hurt. Hurt worse than she ever could have imagined, which was ironic since heartache was what she’d so wanted to avoid.
“Yep. You too.”
She snuck back into her room. She needed to pack her shit and then get the hell out of this Christmas nightmare. Her Lady Robin’s bags were easily reassembled. She’d left the Fancy Fleshstroker, the P-Spot Pulse, the Shake and Shimmy Cock Ring, and the Chained Melody Clamps with Perry. She put her red velvet cocktail dress back on, along with the thigh highs for a tad more warmth. It felt like a walk of shame, but she’d walk it with as much confidence and sass as possible.
After making her bed, she took one last look around the room. She wasn’t sad to be leaving. She wasn’t going to miss this room with its extravagant Christmas decorations, but a strange emptiness was pushing against her ribs. It was a physical weight in her chest, a pain she wasn’t sure what to do with.
She deposited the clothes she’d borrowed from Valerie through a laundry chute and dragged her sorry self and her roller bags downstairs.
Valerie was bopping around the kitchen, making donuts in a FryDaddy and putting muffins in the oven.
“Hey, you!” Valerie said when she spotted her, rushing over to give her a hug. “You seem all ready to depart.”
“Good morning.”
“The ice is already melting off the driveway, and we salted and sanded it, which should help. I think you’d be fine to leave at any time in the next hour or so.”
“Have you heard about road conditions back into the city?”
“I s
aw on the news this morning that the interstate is open.” Valerie whisked a cream mixture in a bowl as she talked. Evidently both Winters siblings could multitask. “It will be slow going, especially on the city streets, but the crews have been clearing roads since around three this morning. You should be fine, if you avoid the big hills. And you have my number and Perry’s so if you run into any trouble, please call us. Perry’s big-ass SUV could make it to you in a jiff.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Yeah, there was no way in hell Sasha was going to call Perry after their awkward goodbye.
“You have to at least have an apple cider donut before you leave. Fresh out of the fryer.”
“Sure.”
Sasha would never turn down a donut. Valerie handed her a piping-hot donut sprinkled in powdered sugar, and Sasha took a big bite.
As Sasha was chewing, Valerie said, “So what’s the deal with you and my brother?”
“Hmmm?” Sasha tried to swallow, but the yeasty dough stuck in her throat.
“Just wondering if we’d be seeing you again. You know we have the Winterberry Christmas Couples’ Soiree. It’s very romantic.”
Sasha finally got the lump of donut choked down.
“Oh, well, I don’t think so.”
“I thought you guys had hit it off.”
Sasha stared at her, eyes wide, and all rational thought completely fled her mind. What could she say to that?
I did hit it off with your hot brother, but I’m an emotionally repressed Scrooge with commitment issues. I don’t believe in romance or Christmas or any of the tenants of this beautiful business you’ve created here, the one that’s the Winters’ legacy.
Valerie laughed. “Holy shit, I put you majorly on the spot. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Damn. On that awkward-as-fuck note, let me walk you out.”
Sasha nodded. “Okay.”
They trudged out onto the porch together. Water dripped from large icicles hanging from the eaves, and snow blanketed the front lawn. It was still shadowy outside, with the sun low on the horizon, but the snow cover lightened up the dimness. The snow was slushy on the walkways, which was a good sign. It wasn’t slick, but it was wet.
The temperature was probably pushing forty, which would make the roads treacherous with black ice in three hours when it re-froze.
Sasha loaded her bags into the backseat of her Bug before turning to Valerie. “I’m happy I met you. All of you.”
“Me too. I wish you lived closer so you could be in our book club.”
“Will you pass my goodbyes along to Karen, Andie, and Louise?”
“Of course. What about Perry?”
“I said ‘bon voyage’ to him this morning.”
“Okay. That’s … something.” Valerie frowned, and panic exploded in Sasha’s chest. She had to get out of here. This hurt too much.
“Yep.” Sasha opened her car door, then turned back to Valerie. “You should ask her out. Louise. She’ll say yes.”
Valerie smiled and nodded once in acknowledgment. Then Sasha climbed behind the wheel, started the engine, and began the stressful trek up the sloped driveway.
Like two nights ago, her little car struggled at the steepest part in the middle, but this time, it powered through it. It almost felt easy when she crested the top of the hill. She glanced in her rearview mirror to get one last peek at the Winterberry Inn.
It was sparkling with strings of red and green lights and looked like a Christmas card with pillows of snow on every inch of the yard and roof. But it wasn’t the Victorian house itself that pulled her attention.
No, it was Perry standing next to his sister, his arm around her shoulders, watching Sasha leave him.
She pulled onto the main road, going through the motions of driving, as her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Her breath pitched and caught in her throat. She made it to the interstate in a daze before she had to shake herself. It wasn’t safe to drive if she couldn’t focus.
But that image of Perry, leaning on his sister for comfort, had superimposed itself in her mind’s eye. She couldn’t unsee it. She couldn’t believe it would be her last glimpse of him.
Maybe they could continue the friends-with-benefits situation she’d originally suggested.
No.
He’d made it obvious that wouldn’t work for him, which she respected. She could compromise, try to open her heart, even though it was the last thing she could imagine doing, especially around Christmas, when she had to be so on guard all the time.
But you’ve already opened up, said the awful tiny voice in her head. She’d allowed him to burrow beneath her walls, to touch that soft, sensitive part of her heart that she thought was permanently closed for business.
Son of a bitch. Why did he have to be so different? So wonderful?
As she bumped along the snow-packed interstate at less than thirty miles per hour, her vision fuzzed, and she wiped her cheek.
A tear.
Oh shit. She was crying. Was that why her chest hurt? Why her head was pounding?
An easy exit, with a clear path to a gas station, came into view, so she pulled over and called her sister.
“Rosie, I think I fucked up,” she said once the call connected. Her voice was strained, and she hiccupped a sob at the end.
Without missing a beat, her strong, take-charge older sister said, “Emergency brunch. How soon can you get to Jolly’s Café? They don’t close for anything, and we got less snow on this side of the city.”
Jolly’s Café was a breakfast and brunch place that was within a mile of all their apartments, because she and her two siblings were obviously co-dependent and lived in each other’s pockets. Her brother and sister could walk there.
“It’ll be at least an hour and forty-five minutes if I don’t go home to change first. Longer if I do.”
“Brunch first. Then clean clothes.”
“I’m kind of last-night’s-mistress this morning.” She hadn’t even showered off the extraordinary sex and only had a velvet holiday dress to wear.
“Is this walk-of-shame the reason you think you fucked up?”
“Yep.”
Rosie paused for a second, probably shocked by that. Any show of emotion from Sasha over a partner was unusual.
“Then I’d say mimosas are more important than clean undies.”
Sasha wasn’t wearing undies, but otherwise, she tended to agree.
Sasha fell unceremoniously into the seat across from Rosie and Benji. They’d beaten her to Jolly’s Café—the roads had been extra slow-going for most of the drive—and claimed their normal booth. Her siblings both sat up straighter, their eyes wide, when she settled in. She took her coat off.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Benji asked. “It’s fab, don’t get me wrong. Very Naughty Mrs. Claus, which I love, but wow.”
“Shut up.”
“And that beard burn. Damn!”
“What happened at this bed and breakfast?” Rosie said before Benji could lend more color commentary to the situation. “You’d told me it’d be a boring day of Christmas movies and baked goods.”
“And that’s what it was.” The waitress came by, verified Sasha’s ID, then deposited their requisite carafe of mimosas. Once she was gone, Sasha said, “Then I fucked up.”
“How?” Rosie asked.
“The Lady Robin’s party was hosted by Valerie, the owner of the inn. Her brother, Perry, showed up a day earlier than she expected to try to beat the storm. And he was wonderful.” She stopped there, not sure how to explain the hole in her chest or how it pained her to breathe.
She’d told Perry there couldn’t ever be anything meaningful between them, just like she’d told countless other people in the last year. Why did it hurt so badly this morning?
“And?” Benji asked. “You murdered him? What do you mean you fucked up?”
“She fell for him,” Rosie said, a small smile curling the edges of her mouth. Sasha and Rosie lo
oked a lot alike, but Rosie was contained and reserved, whereas Sasha was loud and brash and wild. Right now, Rosie seemed way too proud of herself.
“I don’t want a boyfriend,” Sasha said stubbornly. “Or a girlfriend. Or a significant other. I want nothing to do with that bullshit.”
Benji’s big green eyes widened, and he gaped at her. “Holy shit. You fell for some rando at a sex-toy party? You truly are living the best life, sis.”
“I didn’t fall for some rando.”
The waitress came back to take their orders and they each requested the sourdough pancakes, as was emergency brunch tradition, but Benji added the spruce-tip-birch syrup because he was feeling “Christmassy.”
Once they were alone again, Rosie reached across the sticky table and grabbed her hand. “P.J. hurt you.” Sasha tensed at the mention of her ex, but the ever-solid Rosie didn’t pause. “And I understand your reasons for not wanting to settle down right now.”
“If by ‘not wanting to settle down’ you mean she’s a free woman with all the sexual agency in the world, then yes,” Benji added diplomatically, and Sasha laughed.
God, she loved her siblings.
“Whatever,” Rosie said with an eye roll and a bigger smile. “But why do you refuse to consider a deeper relationship? It doesn’t have to be a lifetime commitment or even monogamous. We’ve tried to set you up with people, but it’s always like Rejection City up in here. Or No-Strings Poundtown. Help us understand. Is it because you’re not ready? Are you still in love with P.J.? Is it because you don’t believe in love at all, or you haven’t found the right person? Or perhaps you’re—”
“Scared,” Benji said, suddenly serious, no diplomatic question mark in his voice.
“I’m not scared,” Sasha hissed and jerked her hand away.
Their waitress came back with their food, and Rosie ordered a peppermint mocha. Evidently everyone was in the holiday spirit today, except Sasha. She drank down another huge swallow of mimosa, the champagne tickling her nose.
“Then why do you think you fucked up?” Benji asked. “If you don’t want to break your relationship embargo for him, then he’s obviously not that important.”
Stocking Stuffers Page 11
