All I Want for Christmas: A Contemporary Romance Holiday Collection

by S. L. Sterling

  “Did he hurt you?”

  I shook my head no. Brody would kill him if he found out that yes, he had, in fact, hurt me.

  “Are you sure?” He pulled me in tighter, and I could feel myself relax in the safety of his arms.

  “I'm sure,” I mumbled into his chest.

  He held me, letting me cry until I had totally calmed down, his strong arms keeping me safe. “Alright, well how about we eat?” he finally whispered.

  As soon as dinner was over, we were just about to make our way over to the couch when Brody’s cell phone rang. He pulled his phone from his front pocket and glanced at the screen.

  “I've got to take this, it’s work.”

  I watched as he walked back into his bedroom for a couple minutes, and the next thing I knew, he was running to the door.

  “I hate to do this Cass, but I've got to go. Are you okay to clean everything up?”

  “Of course. Just be careful.”

  “Always am.”

  I watched him go, praying for his safe return.

  13

  Cass

  The last couple of days had been a blur. I was still angry with Ray, so it was probably better that he hadn't bothered coming around. After Brody had left the other night, I had cleaned the kitchen and gone to bed, but sleep was nowhere to be found. When my head hit the pillow, the tears started. It wasn't that Ray had hurt me, it was more he'd scared me. I was a mess, and it had taken me a much longer time to calm down than I thought it would. I was glad Brody had been called to work because it would have only been a matter of time before I would have told him everything and probably would have spent the night crying in his arms, instead of into my pillow.

  I was so thankful the day was over. I was about halfway up my driveway when suddenly, the house lit up like a Christmas tree, white lights running along the edge of the peaked roof and around the windows. That was when I spotted Brody's truck pulled in and under the trees that lined the driveway. The call must have been serious, this was the first time he had been home since he left the other night. Judging from all of this, he had been home for a while. At least long enough to put up Christmas lights. I pulled my car into the garage and headed into the house.

  The smell of roast beef crashed into me the second I walked through the door, and my stomach let out a huge growl. Again, another day had gone by where I had nothing to eat but cookies. I dropped my purse onto the dryer and hung up my coat. Walking around the corner, I was greeted by Brody's ass in tight jeans, bent over the open oven door. When he stood up, I couldn't help taking in his bare back, muscles flexing as he picked up the pot on the stove and drained it in the sink. I leaned against the door frame, watching him work around the kitchen. He looked so much stronger and much more built than I remembered.

  “What do we have here?” I said smiling.

  “Cass! I hope you don't mind, I figured you might like to come home to dinner, so I got us a roast, cooked some potatoes, and I was just about to steam some broccoli.”

  “Do you always cook half naked?” I said, my eyes traveling down his bare chest to his tight abs. I could feel the heat in my face as my eyes skimmed over his body—he was in top physical shape.

  “Yeah, I'm sorry, it got a little hot in here with the fire going and the oven. Come in, sit down, let me pour you some wine.”

  I walked in and took a seat at the breakfast bar, watching Brody as he poured two glasses of wine.

  “Thanks, but you better be careful, I could get used to this,” I said, grabbing the glass from his hand and taking a sip, letting the cold liquid roll down my throat.

  “What? Me half-naked in your kitchen?” he chuckled. “I hope you do,” he winked. “Are you feeling better than you were the other night? Did you get a chance to talk with Ray?”

  “Don't be silly, everything is fine,” I lied, looking away from him. “Here, I'll grab the plates.” I jumped off the stool and gathered some plates and cutlery.

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yep, we talked everything over, we're good,” I nodded. I don't know why I was lying to him, but I didn't want to give Brody the wrong impression of Ray by telling him the truth about what had happened.

  “I see you put up Christmas lights.” I dropped the plates onto the table, trying to change the subject.

  “I did, I hope you don't mind, this place needed a little Christmas pick-me-up.”

  “Not at all, Brody, they look nice.”

  We sat in the living room after dinner, eating dessert while relaxing by the fire. When we were finished, I took our empty plates and set them both on the living room coffee table. Grabbing the remote, I started searching through the channels for a movie. It seriously felt like nothing had changed between us in all the time we had been apart. Everything about being around Brody had such an ease and comfort to it, something I wasn't used to anymore. I grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over my legs, leaning back into the couch.

  “You cold?”

  “A little.” Brody's arm was resting across the back of the couch right behind me, his hand draped over, touching my shoulder.

  “Why don't you snuggle up here? You remember, I'm like a human furnace.”

  I felt a little uncomfortable when my arm brushed against Brody's side, but it wasn't like we had never cuddled before. As I relaxed against him, I couldn't help but breathe in his scent, the scent of him mixed with his cologne smelled so good. He pulled me into him and rested his arm around me. I seemed to be very aware of his every move, and it would have been okay if I didn't have a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. I took a sip of my wine, trying to ignore the voice in the back of my head that was wondering why Brody had come back after so many years.

  I had just started to relax against him when he spoke, “So what made you start working at the bookstore?”

  I looked down at my half-filled glass of wine before I answered the question—he wasn’t going to like the answer, considering I lied to him the other night. I was sure he already knew that though. Brody had never wanted me to give up on my writing, and after Jackson died, he always pushed me to do my best. I took another sip of wine and a deep breath before I answered him.

  “I don't just work there Brody.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I own it. I'm the sole owner and sole employee.” My eyes finally met his.

  “How can you do both?”

  “Well, I have to be there, anyway, so there really isn't any point to hire someone and have a payroll to worry about—I'm barely turning a profit. That’s why for the book drive I have been looking for volunteers.”

  “That's not what I meant, Cass. How can you write full-time and work full-time?”

  I took another sip of wine, not looking in his direction. He knew the truth, I wasn't fooling anyone, and he also knew the hours I used to spend writing which back then had left little to no time for anything else.

  “Cass? What about your writing?”

  “It's a long story, Brody.” I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, I couldn't look at him.

  “So, tell me.”

  “I'm trying hard to start up again. I had the option to write a part for a romance anthology with a few author friends of mine, so I took it. The other book I told you about, I made up.”

  “So, you lied to me the other night.” He went silent, grabbing his wine.

  “I didn't want you to be disappointed in me.”

  “I'm more disappointed you wouldn't tell me the truth. At least you’re starting again I guess. That's what really matters. I hope Ray is supportive of the idea. It's not my place, but I didn't like his comment to you the other day.”

  “He's not really that supportive.” My finger ran around the rim of my wine glass. “He doesn't understand, he was raised to be a worker, and he doesn't look at it as work. He thinks it’s just a waste of time, and I should focus all my time on the store.”

  “I see. Well, I'm going to try not
to make any comments on that, but I'm happy for you. You were a great writer.”

  “How would you know?”

  A light blush rose to his cheeks. “I may or may not have read a couple of your books.”

  I smiled a little at his admission and took a sip of wine. “You read my books?”

  “Let's just forget about that, but in the meantime, if you need help with your writing, I was serious when I said you can bounce ideas off me. Remember, Jackson would never have wanted you to quit.”

  I took a drink, the mention of Jackson's name making me a bit uncomfortable. I looked at the picture that sat on the table beside Brody, his eyes following mine.

  “I miss him, Cass. A lot. It's weird being here. The last time I was here, I was with him on that fishing trip, just a couple of months before the fire. Not much has changed, you've kept it pretty much the same.” He turned his attention back to me after looking around the room.

  “That's not true, a lot has changed, Brody.”

  Brody continued to look around the room, and I watched him. He hadn't changed. For the first time since he had returned, I really looked at him. He was still as handsome as he ever was—Those blue eyes set against his dark hair, his chiseled jaw set tight with a couple days worth of growth. I couldn't help take in his features as he looked around the room, his eyes falling back to the photo. When our eyes met, I remembered Jackson's words the night he died.

  “I don't want you to spend the rest of your life alone if ever I don't come home. I want you to go on and meet someone, get remarried, have kids, and live your life and never give up.”

  I hadn’t done a great job following his wishes. Here I was in a relationship with a man who was twenty years older than me. I knew he was past the stage of wanting children, he had made that very clear, and I doubted if he wanted to get remarried. So, here I was in a relationship with very little hope or want of it moving forward, and I had totally given up on everything I had worked hard for. There had been so many days in the last three years that had been a struggle to even get up out of bed.

  For whatever reason, it could have been the memory I just had or the fact I was sitting here with the first man I had slept with after Jackson had died, but I could feel the tension between us. Perhaps it was the three bottles of wine we had consumed or all the unsaid things that lay there, hidden between us, but whatever it was, for me to be able to move on and start over with Brody, the air needed to be cleared.

  We sat in complete silence, studying one another. At one point, I almost thought Brody was going to kiss me, but he didn't. When I couldn't take the tension anymore, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

  “Brody, seriously, why did you come back?” I knew exactly how this question sounded, but it had been gnawing at me since Josie had sent me that text, letting me know he was looking for me.

  “I had to see you.”

  “What for, Brody? You think you can just come walking back into my life just to leave me again?”

  “I suppose that’s fair.”

  “You suppose that’s fair? What the hell, Brody?”

  “Cass, don't get angry.”

  “Don't get angry? What did you expect, I would welcome you with open arms, and I wasn't ever going to say anything? Fuck, Brody.”

  “You sort of did. That kiss Cass, I can't get it out of my head,” he said, taking my hand in his.

  I ripped my hand away. He'd struck a chord with that comment. I knew I had made a mistake by not pushing him away, but fuck, the man could kiss, it had been a nice fucking mistake. Still, I stood up and headed to the kitchen. I didn't want this to turn into an argument, things were getting too heated. We’d had too much to drink, and nothing good could come out of two people arguing under the influence. I ought to know, it was a recurring situation with Ray.

  “I feel like shit, I didn't plan on leaving you, Cass. Please, just let me explain.”

  I crossed my arms and stood glaring at him. “I'm waiting.”

  “That night, after you pushed me away, I felt this tremendous amount of guilt for acting on my feelings for you. The way I felt about you, I'd never felt that way about anyone. It scared me. I was supposed to be there to look after you. I promised Jackson I would look out for you, take care of you. Instead, for months, all I wanted to do was get you fucking naked and make you moan and writhe underneath me. Then when it happened, I couldn't get enough of you, I wanted to consume every fucking inch of you every time I was with you.”

  I felt myself blush at his admission. I wanted to stop him right there, but I continued to listen.

  “But when you stopped me that night, for whatever reason, I realized maybe my feelings may have gotten out of control, and maybe you weren't as ready and wanting as I was. So, I did what I thought was right. I had to find some way to get you out of my head because I'm pretty sure that wasn’t what he meant by 'take care of you.' So, as much as it hurt me to leave you, I figured it was the best and only solution for the both of us. It wasn't supposed to be for three years, Cass, just until I got things under control. Only, I soon found out I was wrong by leaving and these feelings weren't going to go away quickly, if ever. I thought about you and wanted you more and more as time passed.”

  My anger took over as soon as he stopped talking. I was angry he left, angry at myself that I stopped him that night, and angry at him because he hadn’t ignored me and taken me again that night like I had really wanted him to, like he should have.

  “So, instead of facing your feelings, you left when I needed you the most, Brody. It wasn't enough that I had just lost Jackson, you had to walk out of my life too, just like that, without even a fucking goodbye.”

  “I left you a letter.”

  “Yes, you left me a letter. A letter that almost fucking killed me after I read it. I struggled and struggled to make sense of why you left, and to be honest, I haven't been able to. And after all this time, I'm still not able to because your reason isn't good enough. We're fucking adults, Brody, all you needed to do was talk to me.” I could feel the tears burning my eyes, but there was no way I was going to cry in front of him.

  “I never said it was a good enough reason, Cass. I was a coward.”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I would call it. You promised me, and you promised him, Brody. I know you did because I fucking heard it when I got to the hospital that day.” I slammed my fist down on the counter.

  “Yes, you're right, I promised him. I fucked up, I know that. I know what I did was wrong. I live with the memory of that promise every damn day. He's disappointed, I know it, I feel it.”

  The room was silent as I fought with myself about what direction to go next. I wanted to say I forgave him, and no matter how much time had passed, I still had feelings for him—but I couldn't. I couldn't let those words pass my lips, not yet, I wasn't sure I was ready. My heart was pounding, and I could hear my pulse whooshing in my ears, and I felt dizzy. Instead of saying what my heart wanted me to, my anger came back in full force.

  “After you left, I fucking lost everything. I didn't leave my bed for almost four fucking months, my mom had to come stay with me, I was a mess. I couldn't write, my career died, and after that happened, everything that was left spiraled out of control. I came close to losing the house. Luckily, I was able to sell it and got a bit of money, but it only made things worse. I had to leave the home I loved, Brody. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, and those nightmares, they returned and just kept getting worse. Suddenly, it wasn't just Jackson who had died in that fire, Brody, it was you too. It was like I lost you both all over again. You not only fucked up with him, Brody, but you fucked up with me too.”

  I was so angry and hurt, I had to turn away from him. I had been holding onto all of that since the night he had walked down the front steps of my house. The tension in my shoulders and back was unbearable, my hands balled so tight into fists, my nails were biting into my flesh.

  “And just so you know, I had feelings for you too, Br
ody. I wanted you just as bad that night, and every night before, just as much as you wanted me, maybe even more. And no matter how right or wrong it may have been, those feelings were and still are very real. You weren't the only one who was scared. That’s why I stopped you, I wanted to tell you.”

  “Why didn't you say anything?”

  “Why didn't you?” I shot back. I kept my back to him, a couple tears escaping—I couldn't stop them now. Suddenly, I could feel the heat from his body behind me, his hands on my shoulders, his breath on my neck.

  “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you, and I'll never forgive myself for what you went through. I was selfish.” He squeezed my shoulders in his strong hands. “All this time apart has done is show me I need you in my life, Cass. But now, you’re with him. Tell me what I can do to get you back. I'll do whatever it takes!” He wrapped his hand around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

  “I don't know, Brody. I needed you in so many ways—to comfort me, to make me laugh, make me forget, make me feel loved.” Those were the things I still needed, the things I never received from Ray.

  “I know you did, I wanted you so fucking bad, I still do. It just took me this long to accept it’s okay, Cass, okay to want you and to have you.” He kissed the back of my neck, lightly grazing his lips over my skin, sending a warm chill through my body.

  “Brody, don't do this,” I whispered. As soon as I blinked, I felt more tears fall over the rim of my eyes.