A Dusty Christmas

by Lilliana Rose

  “Tonight was just a taste, you know?” Dusty kissed him softly on the lips.

  “Well, I enjoyed my entrée, and I’m looking forward to when I might get my main course and dessert.”

  “Oh, expecting a three-course meal?”

  Blaise chuckled. “Absolutely.” He nuzzled along the side of her neck, enjoying the shiver it caused in her.

  “You’re too good for me,” she mumbled in an absentminded tone.

  “Likewise, you know.”

  “Hmmm… what a pair we are.”

  He kissed her. “Does that mean I can move in?”

  “I don’t know.” Her stomach churned.

  “Dusty…” His voice soft, full of disappointment.

  She wasn’t at all good at having conversations after they’d had sex. It was as if her mind was all muddled from the bliss or something.

  “Just… I …. we need to talk about what this means. And you know—”

  “Dusty? You out there? Dinner’s getting cold.”

  “Fuck.” Dusty jumped up and started to grab her clothes. “We can’t let Mom find us like this.”

  “We took a little too long?” Blaise bolted upright.

  “A little.”

  He reached up and grabbed her arm, pulling her back down. “We need to have this conversation, you know?”

  The flutter of fear she felt few away when she looked into his eyes. “I know.”

  “Blaise, you out there, too?” called Clare loudly.

  “Shit,” said Blaise.

  “Come on, I’ll turn off the engine of the combine, and then we better go in for dinner before Mom comes looking for us.” Dusty shimmied on her dirty jeans glancing at Blaise while he dressed. He grinned at her, and warmth built inside of her.

  It had been difficult to let the last of the walls down around her heart, but she was so glad she did.

  Could she take the next step with him?

  She hated how the question lingered, and the answer always felt so far out of her reach.

  “Another delicious meal, thank you.” Blaise put his spoon onto the plate, a floral design around the edge. It amused him that Claire brought out the best china whenever he ate with them. The apple pie and fresh cream had been nothing like he’d eaten before. He was glad he’d taken out a gym membership here at Wilkton, otherwise with all this great home-cooked food, he’d be packing on the pounds.

  “I’ll help you clean the dishes.” Blaise stood from the chair at the kitchen table where he, Dusty, and her mom had been eating their very late dinner.

  “You will not.” Claire waved her finger at him. “You two should go into the living room. I’ll clean up.”

  “Mom, I can help. It won’t take long.”

  Claire opened her mouth as if to say no.

  Blaise interjected. “Good idea. If we all help, then it will be a lot quicker. You’ve had a big day, too.” He took his plate to the sink and began running the water to start washing the dishes.

  “Did you Mom? What did you get up to?” Dusty collected her mom’s plate.

  “Just the usual.”

  “Trip into town went well?” Blaise couldn’t help trying to find out what she’d gotten up to in town. He was getting to know Claire, and she was normally so open with what she was up to. Though, at this time of the year, maybe it was the Christmas gift shopping she was doing. Another reminder that he hadn’t gotten anything for Dusty yet. It was hard to come up with an idea of what to get her when he wasn’t sure what their future together was going to be.

  “It did, thanks,” Claire answered. She put the cream away in the fridge and packed the leftover apple pie for later.

  “Coffee with the girls?” asked Blaise as he began to scrub the plates.

  “Not today, I will tomorrow.”

  Dusty pulled the tea towel off the oven handle and stood waiting to dry the dishes. She flicked the tea towel and said, “Come on, you’re way too slow.”

  “I don’t want to break your mom’s good china.”

  Dusty rolled her eyes. “No, you don’t.”

  Blaise put the first plate in the rack, he was building into a rhythm. “Just you wait, you’ll be struggling to keep up.”

  “This isn’t a race,” interjected Claire with a laugh.

  Blaise grinned. “I’m not competing.”

  He could see this as being the future with Dusty. A family. He glanced at her as she concentrated drying the plates and staking them on the kitchen table for her mom to put away.

  “Like hell you aren’t.” Dusty flicked the towel onto his backside.

  “Ow.” He jumped. “That’s not fair, you’re distracting me.”

  Dusty laughed, so he grabbed a handful of bubbles and blew them on her face.

  “Hey, you’re playing dirty.” She wiped her face with the tea towel.

  “I learned from the best.” He stacked the last bowl on the rack, then started on the cutlery.

  Dusty winked at him.

  Heat flowed through him, pushing away the hurt at the lack of response to his question earlier about moving in. Sure, it hadn’t been the best timing to ask, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know. He still wanted to know. For now, though, he was content with at least getting some time with Dusty. It was good seeing her laugh—it was almost melting the tired lines away from under her eyes.

  “Done.” Blaise pulled the plug in the sink, then grabbed the tea towel from Dusty to wipe his hands.

  “Hey.” Dusty tried unsuccessfully to get it off him, her hands grabbing wildly at him.

  Blaise kept turning, keeping her chasing him. “Oh, you want the tea towel back?” He stepped back, then gave it a sharp flick, snapping it on her hip.

  “Ow.”

  It was a little too hard than he’d aimed for. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get you back.” She snatched the towel from him and finished drying the last of the dishes.

  Claire smiled and wiped her eyes.

  “Mom, you okay?” Dusty went over to her.

  “Of course, it’s just… I enjoy seeing you two… you know… in love together. It makes this house feel like a home again after your dad passed.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Dusty hugged her.

  They’d been through so much and just kept going on without missing a beat. It warmed Blaise’s heart to see them like this.

  “Enough of that. It’s time for me to go to bed.” Claire patted her daughter on the shoulder and then pulled away.

  “You don’t have to,” said Blaise. “Not on account of us.” He was sure Dusty wouldn’t mind him saying this. If he got to simply spend a little time with her cuddled together on the couch, then that was going to be a good way to end a long day.

  “Yeah, Mom, don’t go to bed on account of us.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not. I’ve got a new book I want to read.”

  Blaise had a sneaking feeling that wasn’t the case at all. He was still very suspicious that she was up to something.

  “How about you two put the Christmas tree up? It doesn’t feel like Christmas without it in the living room.”

  “We can do that.” Blaise smiled as he looked at Dusty, hoping she would agree. Despite Claire’s motivations to give them space, he rather liked the idea of putting up the Christmas tree with Dusty.

  “All right then, we’ll put up the tree,” said Dusty.

  “Yes.” Blaise did a little sport-like victory dance.

  “You like putting up the Christmas tree or something?” Dusty asked him.

  “Yeah, don’t you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Oh, but you haven’t put up a Christmas tree with me before.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  Blaise shook his head and scooped her into an embrace. “But you should be afraid.”

  He saw her eyes relax, then sparkle with joy. He kissed her gently on the lips.

  “I’m going to bed. Night, you love birds.”

  Love birds? Blaise w
as glad they looked like a couple together.

  Dusty pulled away. Her cheeks flamed red. “Night, Mom.”

  Blaise kept his arms around her not wanting to let go. He wasn’t sure why she was embarrassed to show affection to him in front of her mom. It was only a kiss. If she’d walked in on them earlier when they were in the shed, that would’ve been different, of course. But here, right now, in the kitchen, this was natural, something that didn’t need to be done behind closed doors.

  “You embarrassed to kiss me in front of your mom?” he asked softly when her mom had left the room.

  “It’s not how my family behaves.”

  Blaise could feel her squirming in his embrace. “What about now?” He rubbed his nose against her as if testing the waters before kissing her.

  “You do like to push the boundaries.” She moved her lips closer.

  “You can’t talk.” He pressed his lips to hers, enjoying how their spirits seemed to join when they kissed. It was helping to alleviate the doubt which was building inside of him and giving him hope there would be a future together.

  Dusty pulled away slowly, eyes closed as if enjoying the lingering sensation of the kiss. He enjoyed seeing the soft expression on her face.

  “Let’s go put up the Christmas tree?” she said.

  “Where is it kept?” Dusty paused and thought. “That’s right, in the garage. Come on.”

  Blaise followed her to the garage, the outside lights pushing away the shadows of the night which always seemed darker here in the country than in the city. A few of the cats trotted in with them to check out what was going on.

  “It’s on top of the cabinet…” Dusty pointed as she went to get it down. “There.”

  “Let me.” Blaise nearly had to push her out of the way. “I want to help, you know.”

  Dusty stopped. Her expression a little confused. “I know.”

  “You don’t let me, though.”

  “I don’t mean to, it’s just that I’m so used to doing things myself. It’s just the way it is on the farm.”

  Blaise nodded. He was beginning to realize that. “Just remember, I’m here.” He ran his hand down her arm.

  “I will try.”

  It was the best answer he could’ve gotten from her. He reached up and shimmied the large box to the edge, then pulled it down with a little grunt. It wasn’t heavy, just oversized and awkward to maneuver.

  “I’ll grab the decorations. They should be in a box over here.” Dusty moved a couple of boxes which were stacked up along the far side of the garage wall. “Here they are.”

  “We’re set then.”

  “We are.”

  Blaise carried the Christmas tree box back inside with Dusty following behind juggling two boxes of decorations.

  “I would’ve guessed you’d have a real tree for Christmas.” He put the box down on the carpet in the middle of the living room and began to open it.

  Dusty shrugged her shoulders. “Never had the time to bother with getting a real tree.”

  “Not with the harvest, I get it.” He should’ve realized.

  “Yeah, and to get the right-size pine, we’d have to go to the Adelaide Hills, which is too far away.”

  Blaise nodded as he pulled out the parts of the plastic Christmas tree. “This is a good one.”

  “We did think about getting a eucalyptus branch one year, but again, there’s just not time for something like that. Hell, I haven’t even done my Christmas shopping.”

  “What?” Blaise pretended to be surprised. “You mean to tell me you haven’t bought me a gift?”

  “I haven’t. But I will, when the harvest is done.”

  “Well, I guess I should be grateful that you’re going to buy me something, and that you don’t think I’ve been too naughty to get a gift.” He paused from unfolding the branches of the tree and winked at her. “I could be naughtier, though, if you like?”

  She laughed and took out the gold tinsel from one of the boxes she’d carried inside. “Come here and let me wrap you then.”

  Blaise stepped to her. She put the tinsel around his neck and used it to pull him to her. She kissed him, her lips setting a blazing heat on his. He moaned softly, feeling his body beginning to respond, despite the release they’d only had hours ago.

  “Cool down, boy, we’ve got a Christmas tree to decorate,” Dusty said breaking the kiss and letting the tinsel fall around him.

  “I thought you wanted me to be naughtier?” He lifted an eyebrow.

  She laughed. “Later.”

  He sighed with disappointment. “You do say that a lot, you know.”

  “Hey, weren’t you satisfied in the shed?”

  “Hmmm… well…”

  Dusty playfully hit him on the arm.

  “Don’t hurt me.” He rubbed the spot she’d hit.

  “Toughen up, city boy.”

  “You’re a hard taskmaster.”

  “You remember that.” She pointed her finger at him, her eyes dancing with fun. He loved seeing her more relaxed, and to have this time with her was great. It was helping so much for him to think of a future with her, even if she were reluctant to let him move in.

  She picked up a homemade bauble. “This is the first one I made. I remember Mom teaching me how to thread the sequins on a pin, and then where to stick it into on the foam sphere.”

  “Very clever. I guess each decoration has a story?”

  “They do.” She stepped over the box and hung the bauble on the tree.

  “I look forward to hearing about them.” Blaise picked up a piece of woven wheat. “Tell me the story for this one?”

  Dusty took it from him, her fingers brushed against his sending an electrifying bolt right through him.

  “Mom made that for the first Christmas she and Dad had together.”

  He saw the emotion build in her eyes. “You miss him.”

  She nodded, turned her back, and hung it on the tree. Blaise moved in behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She leaned back into him, letting him support her, and he squeezed her tightly. Glad that for once, she was willing to fully open her heart to him.

  Dusty patted his arm. “We should get this tree decorated.”

  He reluctantly let go. “We should.” He bent down and picked up a tangled string of electric lights. “Tackle this first?”

  “Yes.” She hated how the lights always ended up in a knotty mess. They worked together, untangling the lights and managing not to get in to an argument. Dusty hung them carefully around the branches. Then they started on placing the ornaments. Settling into a routine where Blaise would pick up a decoration and Dusty would share the story behind it as she hung it on the tree.

  Blaise felt like they were finally bonding. This time together was precious, more so because he’d waited so long to get a moment where they could both be themselves together. And he was learning so much about her family through the stories of each decoration.

  “Now, for the star on the top.” Dusty took out the big glitter gold star from its own box. “This is what Dad got Mom the Christmas before they were married.”

  She went over to the tree, stood on her tippy toes trying to reach the top.

  “Here.” Blaise put his arms around her. “I’ll lift you. Ready?”

  She nodded. “Don’t drop me.”

  “Geez, have some faith.” He chuckled. He’d learned ages ago her sense of humor was more on the sarcastic side.

  “Okay… one, two, three.” He lifted her from the ground, holding her tight around the waist.

  “Nearly… a little to the right… no the other right… got it.”

  Blaise let her down a little too quickly, and she stumbled back into him but he caught her. “We’re done.”

  She looked up at him. “You nearly dropped me.”

  “I contest that. Besides, I caught you easily enough.” Before she could say anything else, he kissed her, dancing his lips with hers until he felt her relax into him.

  “Should
we turn on the Christmas tree lights?” he asked.

  She stepped back. “I’ll turn them on, you get the living room lights.”

  With a flick of the switch, Blaise plunged the room into darkness for a second before it flooded with colorful flickering lights from the tree. He smiled. “They work.”

  “A job well done.” She slipped her arms around him, and he hugged her back.

  This was turning out to be one of the best nights together. They stood, embraced, while the lights danced to a mesmerizing rhythm.

  Dusty yawned.

  Blaise squeezed her tight. He’d forgotten how tired she was and the long hours she’d been working.

  “Bedtime,” he said softly in her ear. She nodded. He realized this would be the point when he normally would drive back to Wilkton, but he didn’t want to leave her tonight.

  “Can I stay the night?” The question had been burning on his lips since dinner. Sure, he’d stayed over periodically over the last year, her mom making herself scarce and subtly giving them the space they needed to get to know each other, both in and out of the bedroom. But recently, Dusty had been too busy and then too tired, and he felt that the harvest, while important for the survival of the farm, was getting between them. Even though they’d had been intimate earlier, Blaise wanted to stay the night and share a bed with the woman he loved.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I need to be up early,” replied Dusty.

  “Bloody hell, Dusty. Sometimes I think you really don’t want to be in any sort of relationship with me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “What’s wrong with me staying the night?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re ashamed of me?”

  “No.” Her answer lacked conviction. “Blaise, sorry, I’m just not used to this.”

  “Do you think you could be? It’s been nearly a year, and sometimes I don’t feel any closer to you.”

  “I can be.”

  “You sure.”

  She nodded. “It’s just that mom’s here.” She lowered her voice.

  “Your mom doesn’t care. And it’s not like anything’s going to happen between us tonight other than sleeping.”

  She paused.

  “Dusty, I’ll respect whatever you decide, but think about where you’d like our relationship to go. I don’t want to keep going back to my place at night, not after spending a wonderful evening with you.”