“Beautiful,” he replied hoarsely, but he wasn’t looking at the tree.
“How does your stomach feel? Are you hungry?” She didn’t know how to respond to him. Maybe the head injury was affecting his behavior.
“It’s after eight. We still have to watch for a concussion…” she was babbling, but stopped when she saw the look on his face. She reddened more, but this time it was with the flush of need racing through her.
He smiled. “I’m starving, and the smell of that sauce has been tantalizing me all afternoon. Can I help?”
“Maybe you could open the wine,” she said. Alcohol probably wasn’t the best thing for him now, but she needed the Dutch courage it would provide. At the very least, she needed to relax. She was twitchier than a high strung race horse.
The domesticity of preparing the table to serve the meal did little to calm her nerves. She removed the Christmas table cloth and replaced it with cheery yellow plastic placemats. She found a partially used green pillar candle, which she put on the candle plate as a centerpiece. After putting the water on for the pasta, she tossed the ready-made salad they had bought with the oil and vinegar dressing she’d made earlier. She took the warm loaf of Italian bread out of the oven and placed it on the breadboard, before handing it to Mark who carried it to the table. Once everything was ready, she drained the pasta and served dinner. With the candlelight, the glow from the fireplace, and the Christmas lights, it would have been impossible to make the place any more romantic.
Mark poured the Chianti he’d bought into wine glasses.
He raised his glass.
“Here’s to the cook and life. As long as there’s life, there’s hope.” He sipped his wine, and so did she.
The conversation over dinner avoided the accident. Mark praised her cooking, and they discussed their favorite foods, some she had not eaten in the last few years. Mark mentioned the Christmas village as if there was a possibility that they could visit it together. She wanted to talk about their relationship, but she didn’t know where to begin, and given the possibility of a head injury, she didn’t want to upset him. When they had finished eating, Mark insisted on helping her clean up, and dried the dishes. It was a household task that they had completed together many times in the past.
Afterward, they carried the rest of the wine into the living area, and since the sofa offered the best place from which to watch the suspense movie they had chosen, they sat together on the couch. She made a bag of microwave popcorn, and placed it in a large bowl. How many times had they watched movies like this? Her heart opened a little wider.
The movie, billed as a thriller, but one that verged on horror, was one that neither of them had seen, and they soon became engrossed. It wasn’t long before they were sitting close together with Georgia burying her face in his left shoulder each time something frightening filled the screen. Mark laughed and teased her as she covered her eyes with her hands to avoid seeing some gruesome sight, only to peek through her fingers. It felt like old times.
Georgia had enjoyed the closeness of the evening, and she suspected that Mark had suffered no ill effects from his accident. She had been able to relax and enjoy his company. Mark hadn’t commented on the closeness, but he hadn’t tried to push her away either. Instead, he had held her nestled against him like in the old days.
The movie ended, and since it was almost midnight, Mark added three logs to the woodstove as Charlie had said. The tree and railing lights would go off soon, so they climbed the stairs. Mark stopped in front of the first room, the one she had prepared for them earlier.
“You can use the bathroom first,” he said, reaching for her arm as she stepped around him. “Thanks again for coming out to look for me. I owe you one.”
Georgia couldn’t help herself. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, the stubble of his beard tickling her. “You’re welcome. No matter what’s happened between us, I wouldn’t want anything to ever happen to you. I hope we can be friends again, Mark. I’d like that, but you aren’t getting rid of me just yet.”
She turned on the light in the hallway that showed the queen-sized bed had been made up with two sleeping bags, side by side, each covered with a blanket. She saw the amazed look on his face.
“We still don’t know if you have a concussion, and I won’t hear you in the next room. I hope you’re okay with this, but after the evening’s scare, I’m not feeling very brave, and I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep in the other room listening for your call.” By the time she finished speaking, she knew she was as red as she could be. “We’ll be in separate bags, but if you need me, I’ll be close enough to help. I’ll use the bathroom first.”
She slipped in and closed the door before he could say anything.
Mark stood and stared at the door. A huge grin split his face. If Georgia were willing to forgive him, he would gladly get hit on the head again. He turned and walked into the room. She might not be ready to share his sleeping bag, but she was ready to let him into her life. That was all he needed. Once he got his foot in the door…
She came out of the bathroom, dressed in old sweats as he was, and she had never looked more appealing. She sat on the left side of the bed and turned to climb into the bag, one of the newer mummy-styled ones, and pulled up the zipper.
“If you need anything, wake me,” she said. “Seriously, if you’re in pain or you feel sick, don’t hesitate. Goodnight.” She snuggled down and closed her eyes.
He turned off the hall light and slipped into the bathroom. He stood staring into the vanity mirror, but could not suppress the smile on his face. He cleaned his teeth and took two more of the tablets she had given him. The headache was not as bad as it had been, but he credited knowing Georgia was willing to forgive him for that far more than any of the analgesic tablets he had taken. It had felt good to just sit and talk as they had, like old friends, and the way she had burrowed into his shoulder during the movie had made his body react in an embarrassing fashion. Thank God for the cushion on his lap! He just hoped he could keep his need in check tonight.
He turned off the light and stretched out in his sleeping bag. He could tell from her breathing that she wasn’t asleep yet, but he didn’t say a word, preferring to just bask in the happiness he felt. The chalet was comfortably warm, but he was sure that it would be cold in the morning when the fire had burned itself out. He let his mind go over the events of the day. Georgia’s tears when he had joked about dying, and her willingness to stay in the room with him now convinced him that she still cared for him. He reached up to touch his cheek where she had kissed him – nothing romantic about it, but he had been so grateful to feel her lips on his skin that he had almost died of pure pleasure. As he felt sleep overtaking him, the sounds of her gentle breathing cocooned him, and his last thought was how nice it felt to be friends with her again. Maybe with time, it could become something more.
Georgia woke to a shadowy room, with a comforting warm body pressed against her back. At some point during the night, he must have flipped his sleeping bag over since his arm was now holding her snugly against him under the wool blanket. He was still asleep, and it sounded like the gentle breathing associated with deep sleep. She checked the digital alarm clock on the table beside her and saw that it was after seven.
Since it was still so dark, no doubt the storm hadn’t ended. She knew the chalet would be cold. The fire would have gone out or had burned down quite low by now. Part of her wanted go down to add wood the fire since her early morning stomach was rumbling, while another part of her, the one that held her heart, wanted to stay like this, snuggled in his arms, forever.
Mark, what was she going to do about him? About them? She had been so scared when she had found him, and just as scared when she realized how she would feel if he had died. She had to tell him what Lucy had done. Although she had thought herself the only one hurt three years ago, she might have been wrong. If he still carried her picture, it had to mean something.
She realized
what had happened three years ago no longer mattered to her, one way or the other. Even if he had been with Lucy, he wasn’t with her now, and Georgia was prepared to fight for the man she wanted this time. No more running away in shame. If she hadn’t been so prideful, if she had waited for an explanation…
Seeing him hurt like that had made her realize how much she loved him, how much she had always loved him. Life could be cut short so easily. The man in New York City hadn’t expected to die in Central Park that day. Gwen had been right. Sometimes the old wishes and dreams were the ones that really mattered. She wanted them to be a couple again. Life was too short for regrets, and she regretted not having listened to him back then.
“Georgia?” Mark said, moving away from her as quickly as he could when he had realized his position. “I know you’re awake. Sorry about that, I must have moved in my sleep. I usually sleep alone and…”
“It’s okay. I appreciated the warmth.” Her heart broke anew because he was not as happy to be snuggled as she was. “How are you feeling? How’s the head?”
“I’m fine. I’m going to go downstairs and stoke the fire. Stay in bed until the place warms up. It’s still snowing, so we aren’t going anywhere soon.”
“Okay. I’m nice and warm, so I don’t mind staying here.”
She felt the bed give as he got up.
“Here, let me throw one of these blankets over you.” He spread the wool blanket over the sleeping bag. “It should be warm downstairs in about ten minutes. I’ll put the kettle on for you.”
“Thank you.” She remembered the way he used to fuss over her. “Are you sure your head isn’t sore.
Heat flashed in his eyes. “The head isn’t what I’m worried about right now.”
She chose not to comment, but she had seen the bulge of his desire. Perhaps his need to move hadn’t been because he wasn’t happy snuggling, but because he was too happy to be there. Could she use their chemistry? Would it be fair to them to do so?
He turned without another word and left the room.
Georgia lay under the covers for a few more minutes trying to decide what to do. She wanted him, more than she had ever wanted anything in her life, but she needed to be honest with him first. Honesty would give her a clear conscience, and if they were going to move ahead, there could be no more secrets between them.
She climbed out of bed, hurried into the bathroom, and took care of business before heading downstairs. Fervently wishing she had brought something better to wear than the old jogging suit she had slept in, one a couple of sizes too large, she walked towards the kitchen where he stood with his back to her. She probably couldn’t look less sexy if she tried! She shook her head. One of the floor boards creaked, and he turned towards her.
Mark smiled as she came into the kitchen. The room was heating nicely.
“Good morning, sleepyhead. Before you ask again, I feel fine—no dizziness, no nausea, my shoulder is a little stiff, but the headache is barely noticeable. The cheek looks worse than it feels.”
She had almost stopped breathing when she had seen the blue-black bruise under his eye, although the eye itself wasn’t swollen shut. The scratches on his face were redder than they had been, and she would need to put more antiseptic on them. There had been flecks of blood on his pillow case, but nothing to cause her concern. He looked wonderful in a ‘battered hero’ sort of way.
“Good morning, yourself. Do I smell peanut butter?”
“Your breakfast awaits.” He indicated a plate on which sat two lightly toasted pieces of bread smothered in peanut butter, and a cup of tea. “I hope you still take it with milk.”
She smiled her thanks and sat down at the breakfast bar.
He watched her eat, but didn’t say a word. He poured them both a second cup and joined her at the counter.
“I’ll need to check the generator and bring in some wood. I think I’ll do that before I clean up. I’ll probably have to move that branch out of the way too.”
“You’ll have to wait for me because you’re not going out there alone. Neither of us is.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted making her laugh. “You’ve gotten bossy all of a sudden.”
Her face got serious. “Mark, we need to talk about what happened.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it. We both had a shock yesterday, but I hope you meant what you said about being friends.”
“Of course, I did, but that’s not what we need to talk about.”
Chapter Twelve
Now she had made the decision to tell him about Lucy, she didn’t know where to begin.
She stood and reached out her hand. “Let’s go sit in front of the fire. It’ll be warmer there. Come sit with me on the couch.” She felt chilled as though her spirit realized that she could be making a huge mistake, but was powerless to stop her.
Mark followed her to the sofa, and when she looked at him, he reminded her of a child who had just lost his best friend.
He’s expecting bad news, she thought. I hope I’m right and he won’t think so. What if I’m boxing him into a corner? What if he doesn’t want things to go back the way they were?
She remembered the early morning reaction of his body, and it gave her the willpower to continue. If all he might want from her was sex, it was a place to start.
He sat on the couch, but Georgia didn’t join him. Instead, she walked over to the window and looked outside. After a few moments, she took a deep breath and turned to face him.
“Before I say anything about three years ago, I want you to understand that it doesn’t matter to me one way or another. What did or what didn’t happen doesn’t make any difference now.” At the crestfallen look on his face, she hurried to continue.
“What I mean is that after yesterday, I realize that I don’t want to spend my life alone, playing what if, and hiding away from my emotions. I want us to be friends again, and maybe, if you want it to happen, we can see if the friendship will lead to something else. We loved one another once and…”
She hadn’t finished speaking when Mark jumped off the couch in a flash and pulled her into his arms, crushing her lips with his in a kiss that spoke of years of loneliness and loss. In her own need, she opened to him, and their tongues met in a dance older than time. The kiss gentled, and when he pulled away, she saw tears in his eyes.
“Georgia, I want that more than anything. We’ll take things as slowly as you want to take them, honey, but if you’re willing to give me a second chance, forgive me for what I’ve done, then, right now, I’m the happiest man on earth.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “Oh, Mark, I’m so sorry. I think all of this may have been my fault, not yours,” she said, trying not to cry. She tried to push out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“There’s no way any of it was your fault,” he insisted, defending her and holding her tighter. “I was the one who got drunk. I was the one in that bed.”
Georgia pushed away savagely and shook her head.
“No, please. You have to listen to me. You have to know the truth. It’s the only way we can ever move on, and maybe find our way back to what we had. That morning, when I went over there, I was crushed when I saw you in Lucy’s bed, and I was so sure that I knew what had happened that I never stopped to listen to anyone. I never gave either of you a chance to explain.”
He moved away frustrated, his eyes as full of tears as hers. “What was there for me to explain? The evidence was certainly condemning, and I don’t remember a damn thing. I blacked out. I was a monster, a beast that tore your heart out and tossed it away. It’s why I rarely drink anymore. I learned just a few weeks ago that I got to her place by cab, someone had given the driver her address, and I wish to hell I knew who.”
“I ran into Lucy on Thursday.”
He stopped pacing and stared at her, his face losing all color. From her face, he knew she was relaying something particularly distasteful to her. He hoped he’d at least called Lucy by Georgia’s name. That was the
other thing that had never made sense. Lucy was the only one of Georgia’s friends that he had really disliked.
“Let’s have the bad news,” he said resigned.
“She told me that it was all a prank. She said I’d overreacted, and deserved what had happened because I wouldn’t listen to anyone, and thought I was better than all of you. She said nothing had happened.”
Mark stood there staring at her. The remaining color drained from his face. How could anyone have been so cruel? It was true that he had spurned Lucy’s advances both before and after he and Georgia had become engaged, but for as long as he could remember, he had always had eyes only for Georgia. Talk about a woman scorned. He hoped that Anton realized what a cruel woman he had married. Right now, he would like to give her a piece of his mind. How dare she hurt Georgia in that way! And to make her feel that it was her fault? Well, that was just low.
“How did she do it? How did she convince one of my friends to give the cabby her address? How could I have gotten so drunk that she was able to pull it off?”
“Eleni’s friend Joe thinks she had someone slip you a mickey,” she said. “Eleni always maintained your innocence, but I was too proud to listen. I’m sorry. Up until Lucy got sick, we were all supposed to end up at her place. I’d forgotten that.” Tears threatened to fall, and she turned back towards the window. She felt him touch her shoulder and turn her around.
“Georgia, darling,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “You have nothing to be sorry about, and none of this is your fault. You reacted exactly the way she expected you to react. She must have said something that made you feel the need to check on her, otherwise, you wouldn’t have. How did you even get in?”
Georgia looked at him, her face showing her confusion. “She had sounded so sick on the phone, that I was worried about her. Lucy never got sick. As to how I got in, she had given me a key, so I could bring over all the food and stuff for the party, and when she got sick, we moved everything to Eleni’s. Lucy asked me to return her keys sometime Sunday morning.” She looked horrified, unable to comprehend the cold, calculated way her so-called friend had almost ruined her life.
Holiday Magic (Second Chance) Page 9
