by Aria Ford
Brett and Carson appeared a few minutes later, bearing trays of roast vegetables and meat, for those who ate it. I breathed in the savory scents and felt my mouth water expectantly.
“I have to give credit to Carson for the vegetables,” Brett admitted.
“Brett, giving me credit? Wow!” Carson grinned, teasing his friend. “Not really, Brett. I’m glad you prepared the meat—it’s better than I would have done with it.”
“We haven’t tasted it yet,” Reese said blankly, making everyone laugh.
“I did,” Carson said.
“He stole a bit while we were cutting it,” Brett grinned. We all laughed again.
I remembered my gravy and went to fetch it, ladling it out over the meat and vegetables. As I bent over beside Carson, his cologne intoxicating me, I smiled.
“You didn’t used to cook vegetables?”
“I was inspired to learn,” he said, his eyes on mine.
I swallowed. I had stopped eating meat at round about the time I met him. Had he remembered for all these years? Something so simple said volumes.
“I also want some gravy,” Josh grinned from around the table.
“Patience, partner,” Carson teased. We all chuckled.
“The patient person proves the pudding,” Brett opined. He grinned.
“Pudding!” Josh declared. I breathed in, smelling the delicious, spicy fragrance that wafted from the kitchen as I gave Josh his gravy.
“It smells great, Reese,” I mentioned.
“I hope it isn’t burned.” She grimaced wryly.
“It smells wonderful,” Brett assured her.
We ate the main course slowly. There was much exchange of compliments.
“The sauce is great.”
I smiled at Carson. “You should teach me how to make this,” I commented, indicating the mix of roast vegetables he’d prepared.
“I’d be pleased to.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“Can I have more gravy?” Brett interrupted.
“I thought you weren’t sure if you’d like it?” I teased.
“Well, strawberry jam seemed weird to me.”
“Well, it seems to work,” I said contentedly. He laughed.
“Okay, I’m no longer a skeptic!”
I grinned and supplied the extra sauce.
We moved on to the dessert—again, courtesy of Reese—and I sighed contentedly as I ate my favorite seasonal thing: Christmas pudding. Afterward, as we all sat around, too full to really do anything but sip coffee and wait for our digestion to relieve us of comfortable aches in the belly, Carson stood quickly.
“Sorry, guys. Phone. Be right back…”
As he rushed out into the hallway, I frowned. I caught that same odd look on the face of my brother as had been there before and a little unease moved through me.
It’s Christmas day. It could be his mom, some relative. A friend.
I still felt uneasy, though, and only felt better when he came back to the table after a while.
He looked strained, his face tight. He looked at me, but his eyes held a question. I shivered.
Don’t be silly, Miss Carlyle. It’s nothing bad.
I leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, letting the mood from earlier fill me. I could still smell ginger and custard and I was delightfully full, the sweet coffee slowly bringing me to my senses. I could hear Christmas carols on the radio and Josh and Cayley giggling as they tried to solve the brainteasers from their grandmother’s parcel.
My eyes half closed, I let myself forget my residual worries and remember the magic of the day. My hand moved to my pocket and my heart thumped as I felt the shape of the gift I left there.
I looked across the table, a soft smile on my face, and caught Carson looking at me, an expression of such sweetness on his face that my heart clenched; and I knew that, whatever happened, I would never forget this Christmas time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Carson
That night I couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of Amelia preyed on my mind, making me toss and turn and unable to find rest.
“She’s so beautiful.”
I sighed, recalling how her eyes had lit up when she saw the gift. How she had melted against me in the kitchen, making my blood race. The sweetness of her lips.
“Oh, hell.”
I sat up, unable to take it anymore. I looked at the clock. It was one am. I shook my head. It was stupid just to lie here, restless, thinking about her. Besides, my mouth was dry. I slid slippers on and walked quietly to the bathroom.
“Carson?”
I whipped round. Amelia was in the hallway. She looked tired but alert, her hair loose around her pale shoulders. I felt my heart start to thud inside me.
“Amelia?” I whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“I can’t sleep.”
I sighed. “Nor can I.”
We looked at each other. I felt myself start to tremble inside. She stepped over the threshold, hand outstretched to me. I shuddered as I took it, her flesh warm and vital against my cold palms.
“You’re cold,” she whispered, frowning.
“Just my fingers,” I said. I moved closer to her and I wasn’t sure whether it was me bending or her leaning back that brought our lips together, but my mouth slid against hers and my tongue probed her mouth and we kissed.
“Oh…” she moaned, looking up at me. Her pupils were wide in the half-light and the look in her eyes ignited my need.
“Amelia?” I asked, hesitant.
“Come on,” she whispered.
She took my hand and guided me to her bedroom. I sighed. “I shouldn’t.”
“Yes,” she said briefly. “You should.”
I chuckled. “You argue well.”
She smiled. “Only when I’m motivated by the cause.”
“Well, this cause is very…motivating,” I breathed as I held her against my chest. She smelled of floral perfume and sweet spices and something that was indiscernible and uniquely her. My cock was throbbing with need as we kissed.
“Mm,” she agreed. Her eyes on mine were a little wild and I caught her and held her against me, stroking my hands down her back.
I pushed her down against the bed and she lay back, smiling up at me. She looked so happy and irresistible at once. My hands undressed her carefully and I buried my face in her hair, then kissed her throat.
She groaned and I loved the sound. I moved lower, taking one of her big, pale nipples in my mouth and sucking gently. She murmured and stroked my shoulder and I knew I was the luckiest person in the world.
I buried my face between her breasts and kissed her there, then moved to the other nipple, sucking on the smooth skin. I could smell her scent, and it was driving me crazy. I moved lower, lingering at her bellybutton. The musky smell of her womanhood drifted to me and I licked lower, feeling a rising urgency building inside me as I slipped between her thighs.
She cried out as I licked at her. I felt my cock throb as I sucked on the damp, slippery folds of her body, probing them for the hard nodule beneath. I found it and worked it with my tongue and she gasped and tensed and pressed closer.
I was completely overwhelmed. My body took over and my brain shut down and all I wanted was to go on licking and sucking and mouthing and making her shudder.
She was shuddering now, and I could feel she was about to climax. I worked harder, pressing and biting just a little, drawing her into my mouth.
When she cried out, I felt my own body almost reach the pinnacle too. Without thinking further, I threw off my night-robe and underpants and plunged into her.
She gasped with longing and I thought I might die as her warmth and wetness enveloped me. I slid into her and she held me tight as I shuddered and groaned and moved.
We were moving together, first slowly and then faster as I thrust into her, faster and faster.
“Oh!”
I gasped as an orgasm like I would never have imagined built to a crescendo ins
ide me. I collapsed against her, moaning and shivering, feeling my body still pulse in her.
We lay like that for ages. I think I slept. My face was pressed to her neck, her arms around me, her body still warm on mine.
I woke up some unfathomable time later, realizing it was cold. I shivered and sat up.
“Carson,” she whispered. “Stay here?”
“No,” I whispered. Kissed her brow. Shook my head. I couldn’t stay the night. If I fell asleep holding her, I would never be able to walk away. And, despite myself, I knew I still should. Today had been an indulgence; a weakness I should not have permitted in myself. I had let myself show her how I really felt and, in so doing, had come perilously close to ruining both of our futures forever.
She can’t live with me. I can’t stay with her.
I was a train-wreck. And I had history. There was no way I could bring Amelia into the crazy mess that was my post-war life.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because,” I said softly. She looked confused and upset and I wished, more than anything, that I could stay with her. That I could slide under the cover and lie with her until morning. That I could show her, so clearly, how deeply I felt for her.
But I couldn’t.
I squeezed her hand, set my face to cold neutrality, and walked, briskly and quietly, to my own room.
Once there, I drew on my underpants, put my night-robe on the cupboard-door and slid into bed. I was sleepy, but no less confused.
I was, however, tense with resolve.
That was the last time I would spend a night with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Amelia
The next morning, I rolled over feeling dazed and confused. My whole body ached in a wonderful way, my lips bruised with kissing.
I wished more than ever that Carson was there beside me, so I could kiss him again. But he had gone. I wondered, not for the first time, why he’d left.
He doesn’t want to get that close to you.
That was the clearest answer. What else was I supposed to think? He was sending such mixed messages that I found it hard to keep up, but it seemed obvious to me that he was reluctant to make any sort of move in the direction of a relationship.
He’s still attracted to you, but that’s as far as he goes.
It made sense, really. I had been his first real girlfriend, he my first boyfriend. We still felt the flare of that whenever we saw each other. But it was a fire that would not last. I should have known that.
If that’s true, why do I want him so?
I sighed. Sat up. Looked at myself in the mirror opposite the bed. My skin was pale, my eyes huge with bruising around the edges from lack of sleep. I looked happy, but tired. And there was an uncertain, haunted look on my face that hadn’t been there when I arrived at my brother’s house six days ago.
Tomorrow is the twenty-seventh, I reminded myself. My last day here. I would drive away and never see Carson again. That was the way it should be, I told myself firmly. He wasn’t really interested in me.
“But I’m interested in him.”
It was tragic, but true. I really did still want him. He was the only man who made me feel the way he did. I sighed. Told myself to stop being stupid. To enjoy my days here. It wasn’t often I got to see my brother.
I slid out of bed and drew on jeans and a blue blouse that was almost the same color as my eyes. I topped it off with a blue cardigan that was a shade paler, slipped my feet into comfortable flats and headed downstairs for breakfast.
In the kitchen I found Reese, a cup of coffee balanced between her palms. She looked stunning and relaxed as ever.
“Hey, sister,” she said peaceably.
“Good morning,” I smiled, stifling a yawn. “Where is everyone?”
“Good question,” she laughed. “Well, Carson is jogging, I think. And Brett took the kids to the park for a walk. So it’s just us for the next hour or so. You want some toast?”
“Yes, please,” I added, noticing how hungry I was. I bit my lip, remembering how active I had been the previous night. I was always starving after making love.
“Two pieces?” Reese said, back turned to me as she loaded the toaster.
“Please, Reese, yes.” I nodded. I went to the coffee-machine to make coffee and settled back in the chair, breathing in the inviting scents of breakfast.
“You’re leaving us tomorrow?” Reese frowned, coming to sit opposite me, a fresh coffee between her palms.
“Yeah, I am.”
“We’ll miss you,” Reese said sincerely. “The kids have especially loved it. You’re a favorite of theirs, Auntie.” She chuckled.
I was touched. “Thanks. They’re great.”
“They are,” Reese nodded. “We’ll all miss you.”
“Really?” I frowned.
“Amelia Carlyle, you are as insecure as your brother sometimes,” Reese chuckled.
I laughed. I had never thought about Brett as insecure before, but Reese would know better than anyone if he needed reassurance of love. “Thanks,” I said. “I think.”
We laughed. Reese sighed.
“Amelia, I had wanted to talk to you alone.”
“Really?” I frowned for a second time.
“Yes. I know it’s personal, but…oh, there isn’t an easy way to say this!” she sighed. “I see you and Carson together.”
“What?” I put down my coffee cup, not sure whether to be interested or insulted by her words.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I’m not spying. But…be fair, a blind man would notice you have feelings for each other.”
“Reese, I…” I started. She probably had no idea of our history! What did she think?
“Amelia, I’m not being judgy. I just want to warn you.”
“Warn me?” I frowned. “Of what?”
She sighed. “Carson is…difficult.”
I laughed. “I know that!”
“I know you do, Amelia but…” she ran a hand through her shiny hair distractedly. “It’s not the drink. Or the trauma. I know you know about those. It’s…there were a lot of girls, when he came back.”
“Really?” I frowned. This was news to me, I had to admit. Carson as a womanizer was something I was finding it hard to imagine. I’d sooner imagine him stealing stuff than going after the ladies in a bad sort of way.
“I’m not meaning to put you off, Amelia,” Reese said cautiously. “I just want you to know that…well…Carson doesn’t stick to one woman. Let’s say that.”
I stared at her. “Reese. What are you telling me?”
Reese looked up at the roof. Then back to me. “I’m telling you, be careful, Amelia.”
I laughed, feeling desperate. “Reese, I’m always careful. I’ve been careful all my life. If you mean that I should expect Carson to two-time me, then say it.”
Reese let out a sigh. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“That’s what I meant, Amelia. I’m sorry. I really, really didn’t want to have to be the one to say that. But someone must.”
“So you decided to just hurt me yourself, so he couldn’t?” I asked. I was angry and I knew it was unfair of me to direct that anger at my brother’s wife. But she had been the one who hurt me and I couldn’t very well lie about it.
“Amelia, please.” Reese closed her eyes wearily.
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling bad. “It’s just…yes, this is painful for me. Very.” I blinked, looked at the ceiling, determined not to cry here and now.
“I’m sorry, Amelia,” Reese said. She reached across the table to pat my hand. I tensed and she drew away, the gesture incomplete.
“Well, you never know,” I said laughingly. “It’s as well you did. Who knows where he is now?”
“Amelia, don’t be silly,” Reese admonished lightly.
“I’m not silly. I’m serious,” I said, standing and pushing my chair back. “I fully expect he’s next door with the Brownleys, having a marvelous threesome.”
> “Amelia, you’re being silly,” Reese warned.
“No, I’m not,” I said tightly. “I’m trying not to cry.”
I turned and walked upstairs, my eyes misting with angry tears as I collapsed on the top step. That was where I was sitting when the front door opened and two pairs of eyes met mine.
“Hello, auntie,” Cayley said cautiously. I sniffed.
“Hey, niece.”
“Is auntie okay?” Josh demanded. “You hurt yourself?”
I sighed, swallowing the fresh lump their concern built in my throat. “No, sweetness. Auntie’s fine. I’m just tired.”
“Hey, auntie!” Brett called up to me, oblivious of my sadness. “You want to join me for a walk? We were planning to go to the cafe for lunch. Will you join in?”
“Please come, Auntie,” Cayley said gently. “You need to have some fun.”
I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly. Her concern moved me more than anything else. “Thanks, Cayley,” I whispered. “Yes, I’ll come along.”
We all wrapped up warmly and soon I was walking with my brother and his kids along the pavement. Reese was there too, but I wasn’t talking to her. I was still angry. She seemed to accept my ire with a kind of indifferent serenity. I was glad she wasn’t angry with me for it.
I still can’t believe she said it. I don’t want to believe it. But she’s not the kind of person to lie.
Reese was the kind of person who hardly ever voiced an opinion, never mind actually told lies. If she said something, she was fairly sure of her facts. I knew she was telling the truth when she said she only had my best interests at heart.
How can I trust him? Or her? Or anyone?
My mind was in a whirl for most of the lunch. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and the food was high-quality and wonderful, but I was distracted.
When we got home, my heart leaped to find Carson already there. He was in the kitchen, the paper spread out, coffee at his right hand. Now maybe I could find some time to be alone with him, to talk and find out the truth.
“I’m going to have a shower,” Brett announced, stamping his feet on the kitchen mat by the back door.
“You do that, sweetie,” Reese called in from behind him. “Kids? Who wants to help mommy with the washing?”
