by Hazel Kelly
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” I asked, leaning back to look at him.
“For not embarrassing me in front of Hermione.”
F I F T Y T H R E E
- James -
I wanted to say something comforting so Brie would stop squeezing my hand so hard, but I was out of ideas. Still, I paused before we rounded the corner and turned to face her.
“Sorry,” she said, noticing her death grip and loosening it.
“Take a deep breath.”
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
“Me neither.”
She shot me a disapproving look.
“This was her idea, remember? And she’s always liked you.”
“I know, but I haven’t seen her since the divorce.”
“No one’s going to mention that,” I said. “She’s way more likely to bring up her hanging tomato plants.”
“But she’s your mom.”
“All the more reason for her to root for us,” I said, willing my confidence to rub off on her.
“Did you tell her about me moving in?”
“Of course.”
“Like, not on the phone,” she said. “Like, you saw her face, and she was genuinely happy about it.”
I started around the corner towards the café’s entrance. “How about you let me worry about that, and you worry about the tomato plants.”
“I don’t know shit about tomato plants,” she said, chasing after me.
I pulled the café door open and stepped aside so she could lead the way, our entrance announced by a jingling bell overhead. She looked at me nervously as she passed, but her expression changed when she spotted my mom, who stood from her chair and waved us over.
She was in a plain blue cardigan that matched her sparkly earrings, and I wanted to kiss her for the warmth she was emanating towards the woman I loved.
“Brie.” My mom spread her arms wide and pulled Brie into a hug. “It’s been too long, sweetie.”
My chest loosened as I pulled a chair out for Brie so she could sit in the middle.
“How are you?” my mom asked, straightening her arms and shamelessly checking her out like parents were always doing.
“I’m good,” Brie said, glancing at me. “Great, actually.”
“Sit, sit,” my mom said, gesturing towards the chairs around the table like she owned the place.
Brie smiled gratefully before taking a seat at the small, round table and scooting her legs under the harvest print tablecloth.
“Gosh, you haven’t changed a bit,” my mom said, still studying her too closely and smiling too hard.
“Actually, I’ve grown an inch since you last saw me,” Brie joked, her shoulders relaxing a bit.
"Of course,” my mom backpedaled. “You do look…”
“She was joking, Mom.” I shot her a pleading look that I hoped would encourage her to chill the fuck out. “Relax.”
“Sorry,” she said, smoothing her hands over the tablecloth. “I’m just so excited to see you both. Together like this. Happy.”
“That means a lot,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Really.”
“Yeah,” Brie added. “My mom hasn’t been quite as understanding.”
My mom’s expression drooped. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Can’t say Dad’s been much better,” I mumbled.
Mom scoffed. “Don’t mind him. Your father’s always been good at ignoring anything that wasn’t convenient for him.”
“Anyway,” I said, dragging out the word so everyone would know I didn’t want to go down that road, least of all because Brie was nervous enough as it was.
“She can’t seem to get over the fact that this isn’t about her,” Brie said.
Or maybe the women will discuss whatever the hell they want.
Brie wrung her hands in her lap. “She thinks it reflects poorly on her as a mom or something.”
My mom’s eyes softened. “Change is hard. Your mother just wants you to be happy.”
“But I am happy,” Brie insisted.
“Maybe she’ll feel differently when she sees you guys together,” my mom said. “You really do make a lovely couple.”
I smiled appreciatively and hoped the compliment would set Brie at ease.
“And you don’t even look ridiculously short next to him anymore,” she continued. “Like you did as a kid, which is a relief.”
I scowled across the table. “Mom.”
“It’s okay,” Brie said. “I was a pretty short kid.”
“Anyywaaay,” my mom mocked, clearly vindicated by Brie’s eagerness to please.
I rolled my eyes.
“I’d welcome you to the family, Brie, but you’ve always been a part of it.”
Brie’s eyes bent into little crescents. “Thanks, Ms. Mason.”
“Oh Jesus, call me Joan,” she said, waving a hand through the air. “No one’s called me Ms. Mason since I retired from the school run.”
“Sure,” Brie said. “Joan it is.”
“Much better.” My mom straightened in her chair. “Now, before I forget, there’s something I wanted to say to you.”
My eyebrows stretched towards her.
“About your article,” she said, angling towards Brie as I held my breath.
Brie’s eyes widened. “You read it?”
“Of course,” she said. “I went out and got a copy of BELLE as soon as Maddy told me you’d been published.”
Brie’s mouth twitched like she was trying to guess the direction the conversation.
“And I want to compliment you on your writing,” my mom said, as if she’d always been a fan of the classics. “I knew you were good with words because Maddy always wanted your help with her book reports instead of mine, but I never thought you’d grow up to write something so…”
Brie bit the inside of her cheek.
“Powerful.” My mom folded her hands in her lap. “Really, Brie. I found it quite moving.”
“Thanks, Ms—Joan.”
My mom smiled when Brie corrected herself mid-sentence before letting her expression grow serious again. “Obviously, I’m terribly sorry for what you went through.”
Brie swallowed.
“What your professor did…” My mom shook her head as genuine pain filled her eyes. “It’s absolutely unacceptable.”
“He got fired,” Brie said. “Did you hear? Two other girls came forward after I did. He’s not even allowed on campus now.”
“Good,” my mom said, the set of her jaw hardening. “That’s the least he deserves.”
“No shit,” I mumbled, remembering how that rock felt in my hand the day I followed him home, a swell of rage rising through me so fast my fists clenched.
“I was groped by a boss I had once,” my mom continued, her lip curling with disgust.
My stomach dropped through my chair.
“Never breathed a word of it to anyone.”
Brie’s face filled with concern.
“It’s one of those things I still carry,” she said, taking a deep breath. “That guilt. For the terrible thoughts I humored about myself afterwards and the gnawing suspicion that I wasn’t the only woman he laid his hands on.”
I felt sick.
“My point is, I’m glad you spoke up,” she said. “I’m glad times are changing. I know it’s not easy to come forward when something like that happens, especially when you can’t know what the consequences will be. But I really admire you for having the strength to speak out.”
“Thanks,” Brie said, glancing back at me.
“Regret is a terrible thing to live with,” she added, looking between us. “That’s why I’m so glad James finally grew a pair and asked you out.”
Brie laughed, and I hung my head, squeezing the bridge of my nose as I waited for the moment to pass.
“I’m just kidding, honey. Don’t go all red on me.” My mom laughed across the table. “Do you ever make him go pink like th
at?” she asked Brie. “Isn’t it the most fun ever?”
I dropped my hand and looked towards Brie, confirming my suspicion that she’d be the one changing colors after that question.
“Oh dear,” my mom cackled. “Now I’ve gone and embarrassed everyone all at once.”
Brie’s eyes pleaded with me to make the awkwardness stop, but all I could do was shrug. “I’d say welcome to the family, but you knew what you were getting into.”
Her lips dragged towards a smile, and she slid a hand across the table. But this time, she only squeezed mine hard enough to let me know she was okay.
I knew then we always would be.
F I F T Y F O U R
- Brie -
My arms were elbow deep in the soapy sink when a timer went off, a timer I couldn’t remember setting.
“I feel like a tool for buying ice,” James said as he stepped in the back door. “Have you seen the icicles on the garage?”
“I have,” I said, loading the dishwasher as I tried to remember what that timer was for. The cocktail sausages had been done for ages, and the brownies had only been in for a few minutes.
James dropped two bags of ice atop the cooler on the kitchen floor. I hated how it looked there, but the fridge was nearly full, and I didn’t want to worry all night about whether everyone’s drink of choice was properly chilled. “Did you put salt on the sidewalk, so no one breaks their neck on the way to the door?” I asked as he strolled up to me at a relaxed pace.
“Breathe,” he said, his chilled fingers weaving through my soapy ones as he turned me towards him.
I sighed, relaxing against his chest and trying to forget my worries. After all, we’d only invited a few people to our housewarming party, and no one was due to arrive for another hour. Plus, it’s not like we were going to hand out scorecards and ask for feedback on our first attempt at hosting as a couple. As long as everyone was sufficiently wined and dined, the night would be a success, right?
“It smells great in here,” James said. “I thought you couldn’t cook?”
“It’s the cocktail weenies. They’re in the top oven.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked, tilting my chin up.
I grabbed a tea towel off the counter and dried my hands between us. “Like I understand why my mom always got sloshed before she had company over.”
He scowled at me and slid his hands around my lower back.
“Speaking of which, don’t let Quinn near the Christmas cider.” I straightened the collar of James’s green and blue flannel shirt. “I mean, he can have some, but it’s already made to measure.”
He smoothed his palms over my ass, my sweater dress doing little to buffer the feel of his strong fingers. “What do you say I put on those reindeer antlers you got me and take you for a quick ride upstairs?” He leaned his hips against mine, letting me feel his need against my stomach.
“We don’t have time.”
“So I’ll skip the antlers,” he said, flashing his brows at me and pulling me against him until my lower belly burned.
“It’s not that I don’t want to give your Christmas bells a good jingling.” I slid a hand between us and cupped the outside of his jeans. “I just still have so much to do before people arrive.”
His expression twisted with pain. “Like what?”
“Like dump the spinach dip and guacamole in regular bowls and destroy the evidence that they’re store bought.”
“No one cares about that.” He dropped his face to my neck.
“And I have to light the cinnamon candles in the bathrooms.” I closed my eyes when his lips grazed my flesh, my whole body erupting in goosebumps.
“You’re such a sexy homemaker,” he teased, his voice low as his breath warmed my skin. “Tell me what else you have to do.”
“Keep the brownies from burning,” I said, my voice weakening as his teeth nipped at my neck. “And set the table.”
One of his hands shoved up against my breast hungrily, as if he were a beast looking for the most delicate place to tear me open. “No time to go upstairs then,” he said, pinning me against the counter as his free hand fumbled with his fly.
I moved to help him, the slap of his leather belt making my mouth water as I popped the buttons of his fly open, freeing a heat that burned my fingers. “My tights,” I breathed between kisses. “I don’t want to rip them.”
His teeth snagged my lip before he took a step back. “Take them off then.”
I slid my fingers under the waistband of my tights and pulled them down with my underwear so I was barefoot in the kitchen. When I stood up, he was on me again, his hand shoving my thighs apart and stealing my breath away.
My eyelids were heavy, but I watched his jaw flex as he curled his fingers through my silk and thrust them inside me, stretching me wide as my body gushed for him. Fumbling for the counter, I gripped the edge of it, bracing myself as his twisting wrist made me lightheaded.
I reached for James’s cock and pulled it from his boxers, stroking it hard as I panted through parted lips.
A moment later, he guided himself inside me, savoring the way my body drew him in. And once he’d slid as deep as he could, he held himself there, letting me feel how full I was of him before he pulled my dress off over my head.
I thought he’d start fucking me then, but instead, he leaned forward, burying his face in my hair as he dragged my leg up his side. “Fuck, Brie,” he growled. “Being inside you is all I want for Christmas.”
Adrenaline and desire coursed through my veins as he backed his hips up and gave himself to me again and again, splashing against my molten core until I couldn’t feel the leg I was standing on or the one he’d pinned to his hip. Meanwhile, his other hand forced its way under my bra and claimed a handful of breast, making my nipples strain towards him likes flowers strain towards the sun.
In the next room, the Christmas CD ended, and the only music after that was the breathless whimpers of pleasure James drew from me. And soon, he was close. I knew because he paused to massage my swollen bud, working it against the base of his shaft until I couldn’t see straight.
I came with a jerk, and he fucked my orgasm right through me, meeting every wave of it so the intense ripples reached my fingers and toes and the ends of my lashes. And when I gasped for breath, he spilled inside me, holding himself deep as my desire poured over him.
My head dropped back against the cabinet behind me, my body bowed over the edge of the counter, one breast hanging outside my disheveled bra. When I lifted my face again, a goofy look of satisfaction had replaced his formerly pained expression.
“You have a lovely holiday glow about you,” he said, plucking my bottom lip with his finger.
“Why thank you,” I said, waiting for my scattered body to come together like a bunch of light particles. “I think that’s because I just remembered the beers need to come out of the freezer.”
He laughed and leaned forward to kiss me one more time. “Thank you for being the hostess with the mostess.”
“Thank you for lighting the bathroom candles and setting the table,” I said, smiling sweetly as I held the side of his face.
He lowered my leg and pulled away to redress. “Your wish is my command,” he said. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”
I bent over to scoop my tights off the floor. “I’m sure I can think of something.”
He grabbed my dress off the counter and handed it to me. “I’m only giving this back because you’re so damn fun to unwrap.”
I bit back a smile as I disappeared into my green sweater dress.
“See,” he said, making the most blatant just-got-laid face I’ve ever seen. “No harm done.”
“When you’re in the bathroom, do me a favor and wipe that smug look off your face so you don’t give the impression we just had sex among the appetizers.”
He feigned a pout. “But that’s my favorite festive look.”
I laughed and pointed at him. “I mean it. The
theme tonight is Wholesome Holiday Fun.”
He glanced at the food on the butcher block. “I thought the theme was More Dips Than People.”
I squinted at him. “Smartass.”
“Hey.” He stepped up and pulled me close again. “I’m really looking forward to tonight. All my favorite people under one roof. Our roof.” He pushed a piece of hair away from my face. “It’s a dream come true, don’t you think?”
I blinked at him. “Cinnamon-scented bathrooms are a dream come true.”
“Okay, God. I can take a hint,” he said, letting me go. “Don’t forget the freezer beers.”
“Oh right!” I hurried over to take them out, relieved I’d finally solved The Mystery of the Curious Timer.
“Oh, and Brie,” James said, pausing before he disappeared from the room.
I set a few frosted bottles of Budweiser on the counter. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for the ride,” he said, his brows flashing at me. “I’m feeling very festive now.”
“Feel festive while you light those candles!”
His laugh bounced off the walls as he disappeared around the corner, and moments later, I heard Rod Stewart’s Christmas album start again from the beginning.
And as I transferred the beers to the cooler, dumped the spinach dip in a Santa-shaped bowl, and pulled the brownies from the oven, I couldn’t help but smile.
Because for the first time in my life, I felt like I was stepping into my own happy ending. And not only did I have a safe place to call home, but I had a hero to share it with.
F I F T Y F I V E
- James -
Six months ago, I thought I bought a bachelor pad.
But as I looked around the living room, which was full of pine garland and my favorite people on earth, I felt like I finally understood why I’d been unhappy for so long.
I thought the pressure I was under was a bad thing. But the truth was, being the man my mom and sisters counted on was a privilege. So it’s no wonder I couldn’t find myself in London or see myself with women who were nothing like the ones I grew up with. And it’s no wonder I liked Brie from the moment I first laid eyes on her. She’d been carefully vetted by the women I loved most.
