Second Chance Christmas: BWWM Interracial Romance (Holiday Happiness Book 2)

by Roxy Wilson

  Walking back into her room, she pulled down the comforter from the bed and took it outside. He didn’t look up. Gently, she wrapped the blanket around him. “I won’t say anything. Come inside. It’s freezing cold out here.”

  “Give me a few minutes,” he said without looking at her.

  Her heart contracted with pain. She was responsible for putting those lines of misery around his lips. How could she be so cruel and determined? If he didn’t want to talk, she should just leave it alone. Maybe it was something that he couldn’t bear to discuss. Although she longed to give him a hug or plant a kiss on his neck, Brielle contented herself with a mere touch of her fingers on his hair.

  “I’ll give you the phone,” she said. It was over. Fine! She lost. If he would rather sit here and freeze than talk to her then there was no point in continuing this exercise. She needed to give it a rest. She needed to accept defeat. “You can call a cab as soon as the storm is over.”

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  But still he made no move to come inside. Something wrenched at her heart. There was immense pain in his voice, but there was hardly any elation at the admission that he’d won. It was almost as if he didn’t care. There was a time when she would have moved mountains to bring a smile to his face. But now, she had lost that right to even try.

  Brielle left him to his own thoughts as she went inside. She got busy with lunch and much to her relief, he stepped inside after ten minutes. She saw him go to his room, but he didn’t look at her or make an attempt to talk. He didn’t ask her about his phone.

  Feeling like the worst person in the entire world, she bit down hard on her lips as she stopped the tears that sprang to her eyes. She’d cried enough when he left her; she wasn’t going to do it again.

  No way!

  Not ever!

  She was nobody’s fool.

  He wasn’t a part of her life.

  At least not anymore.

  This was the biggest mistake she’d ever made and as soon as possible, she wanted to leave so that she could continue her life as it was before Toby re-entered it.

  Chapter Six

  The woman was a nightmare. How dare she pretend she didn’t know the real reason he left her! Originally, he thought it was a ploy for her to bring him here so that she could seduce him. But she made no such move, even though the attraction between them was palpable. Being with her in the same house gave birth to many memories. He’d really believed they were happy in their marriage. The two years they stayed together constituted the best time of his life. He’d envisioned a life with her. And when it all broke down, right in front of his eyes, he was devastated beyond measure. The pain lingered in his heart even to this day. And now, she managed to reawaken that anguish.

  The wounds were as fresh and raw as they had been the day he severed ties with her.

  Toby stayed in his own room for most of the day. He wanted to avoid her as much as possible. Although he expected her to come in to pester him, she left him alone. Lunch was left on a tray outside his room. A discreet knock was all he heard. When he came out, she wasn’t around.

  By afternoon, Toby made up his mind about something. It was silly to hold old grudges. They were here together with no other soul for company. Why waste the time by sitting alone? Finally, he stepped out of his room. He stood transfixed at the image he saw. Brielle looked altogether too sexy in her elbow-sleeve turtleneck sweater in various shades of blue stripes paired with a pair of blue jeans. His breath hitched in his throat when she swept wayward strands of hair away from her forehead. Such a simple, unconscious gesture had the ability to raise his libido up a notch.

  It was only when she dug into the box that stood at the foot of the tree and grabbed a ceramic angel, that he turned his gaze to the Christmas tree. She’d been busy decorating the tree when he was selfishly sulking in his room. Red and silver balls hung down from the branches, tinsel swung prettily, and she had even put up some fairy lights. For a moment he stood there and was transported to the scene of their first Christmas as husband and wife. They decorated the tree together and later made love in front of the fire. It was one of those perfect moments when everything was right in their world. Toby shook his head to free himself from the memory.

  She took a stool and tried to stand on it. But it wobbled and she nearly fell. In one quick leap, he was by her side. Her eyes widened; her gasp was audible. It was clear she had no idea that she was being observed.

  “Let me do this.” He plucked the white ceramic angel from her hand. Standing on his toes, he tied the angel to the top of the tree. “Done.”

  She wiped a hand on her brow. “Thanks.”

  Toby glanced down at her. In the light that filtered in from the window, her face glowed. Her lips lifted in an uncertain smile. Her smile, her laughter, was always contagious. Toby couldn’t help but smile back. As he glanced into her eyes, both of them rooted to the spot, a strange feeling overcame him. Something frizzled and burned in his veins, and his control snapped. Toby bent his head. His lips hovered over hers. And there it was, a mere touching of their lips. Did she raise her lips just a fraction of an inch to brush against his? Or was he the one who lowered his to touch hers? It didn’t matter to him who’d made the first move. All he knew for certain was that the touch of their lips sent a fission of excitement straight up his spine.

  Immediately, he wanted more.

  But he shouldn’t.

  He couldn’t open himself up to that hurt again.

  Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice…

  Toby took a careful step back, in spite of feeling the loss of the brief contact. He couldn’t help but observe how her tongue darted out to lick her slightly parted lips. At the moment he wanted to echo her tongue’s movements, again and again and again.

  “Need help with anything else?”

  Her eyes were glazed, but she managed to shake her head. She touched her fingers to her lips as if confused. He could see the struggle on her face. She was debating whether to question him about the kiss or to let it go. “If you could string them over that wall, it would be helpful.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. If she’d asked him why he kissed her, he wouldn’t have known what answer to give her. It was an impulsive decision. But next time he would be more careful.

  They spent the evening putting up festive lights in the room. Toby popped open a bottle of wine; she took out her iPod and they listened to carols. He listened to her hum along.

  Brielle glanced around with the air of someone who was just hit with a brilliant idea. “Shouldn’t we put up some fairy lights on the walls? The cabin seems very drab. When Lexi and Janay are with me, we always do that.”

  His mood was buoyed by the wine and the Christmas spirit. And he didn’t want to say no and come across as a badass. “Sure, why not. Do you have some?”

  “I think there’s a box in the storeroom. I’ll get it.”

  “No, allow me, madam.” He bowed a little and bounced to the storeroom. Maybe it was silly of him to act excited, but hell…it was Christmas, the season for forgiveness and love. It wouldn’t hurt to be nice. He brought out the lights. “These are jumbled together.”

  “I’ll help you.” She plucked one end and they began to unravel the strings. Whoever stuck them inside didn’t bother to line them up, because it took Toby and Brielle quite some time to untangle the lot. “There, done!” she declared.

  Toby couldn’t help the laughter that spurted out of his mouth. She’d draped the lights on herself to keep them straight, and now they were all around her. Marching over, he helped. Within minutes, they were tied up in the strings. “Shit!” He knew was grinning like a loon.

  “This is crazy.” Brielle burst out in laughter.

  They stood close together, the strings wrapped around them. The more they tried to untie the jumble, the messier it became. “Wait. Hold up,” Toby said. The more confused she became, the harder she twisted and turned, and the strings tied them together even more clos
ely. “Stay still.”

  With care, he removed each string, allowing it to trail on the floor. Finally, he lifted the last of them off her and allowed it to drop down. He glanced down. Her lips were right under his. Curls of desire wafted through him, urging him on. But he took a careful step back. One kiss was more than enough.

  Perhaps she sensed the conflicting emotions that warred through him because she leapt towards the iPod. “That’s one of my favorite Christmas songs.”

  Toby was quite familiar with the up-tempo love song, “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” “Mariah Carey!” he groaned.

  “Hey, don’t say anything bad about the diva.” She’d always liked the singer. “Want to dance?” Her smile was open and infectious.

  The wine was hitting him hard, but he was having too much fun to think about it. Grabbing her hand, he twisted her. Her body pressed against his. He twirled her around, feeling slightly giddy. It wasn’t just the wine or the fast-paced song with a liberal dose of synthesizers and bell chimes; it was also her company. And it seemed to aptly fit the emotions he felt at the moment. Forget about sealing deals and signing contracts and about what went wrong in his marriage and about why he was here today. In this moment in time, he was content being with Brielle for this Christmas season. She wasn’t the sort who needed material things to be happy. Being with him was always enough—and because she took so much joy in his presence, he found it exhilarating to be with her, too. As Chris Brown’s rendition of “This Christmas” began, he drew her closer into his arms, not that his version of the classic holiday tune was particularly slow. She rested her hand on his shoulder. And they spun slowly.

  It was like being back in the past.

  Nothing much had changed—and yet so much was different.

  When the song came to an end, she moved away. “I…”

  “Let me refill your glass,” he said, seizing on the only thing he could think of to keep his hands occupied. If he didn’t do something, he would probably pull her back and run his hands through her thick hair. His fingers ached to touch her.

  But she wasn’t his wife anymore.

  Another song began. “Ah! Luther Vandross,” he said. “My favorite.” Toby began to sing along in an off-key voice. He knew he didn’t have a good singing voice, but his exuberance more than made up for it.

  She giggled and accepted the wineglass. Much to his delight, she sang along. He didn’t know half the words. And it had been a while since he’d actually sung along to music, but it felt damned good to let go. With Brielle, there were no inhibitions.

  For a long time, they drank wine and sang. It felt so good and right.

  It felt unbelievable.

  It was as perfect a day as it could have been. If they were married, they might have come here to spend time with each other. And they would have been happy. Instead, they were now as apart as any two people could be. That thought took away some of the excitement of the moment.

  ****

  Toby stood at the entrance of the kitchen and observed the vision of loveliness who had briefly been his wife. From the scent that emanated from the pot and drifted towards his nostrils to tickle his palate, he could tell she was cooking hash browns. But it wasn’t the scent that captured his attention most, it was her demeanor, her carriage. It was somewhat different this morning: a contrast from last night.

  He was nobody’s fool. The fact that they had enjoyed last night didn’t mean that everything was okay. More than that, it reminded him how much worse things became and what great potential there had been for their life to be so damned good if she hadn’t ruined everything. Surely, she felt the same way.

  “Good morning, Brielle.”

  She spun around to face him. “Hey, Toby, good morning.” She produced a smile that seemed forced. Toby wanted to hold her, recapture the spontaneity and joviality of last night. She eyed him with what seemed like a combination of remorse and resignation. He strolled towards her, intent on giving in to impulse to comfort her, to ease the discomfort that she probably felt. But he stopped in midstride. Toby’s gaze was drawn to the phone that was sitting on the counter.

  “I put it in to charge since the battery died,” Brielle spun around, picked up a wooden spoon that lay on the stove, and stirred something in a pot.

  A few minutes ago, he’d gotten up, after having a fitful sleep that was filled with images of her. After brushing his teeth and taking a shower, he’d marched towards the kitchen to see what morning delights she had in store for him. What he didn’t expect was to see her looking quite so subdued, even glum. He detected a strange note in her voice. Had she been crying? Her eyes were distinctly red and her cheeks were drawn. Sympathy stirred in his heart. This was as hard on her as it was on him. But she was the one who initiated this mess. Picking up his phone, Toby checked it. The password was intact. She hadn’t fiddled with it.

  A gust of wind rattled the window and he looked out to see the storm that was swirling around. Snow still fell steadily. In fact, it appeared not to have stopped all through the night. “It still doesn’t make any sense to call anyone to pick us up.”

  She didn’t reply. Instead, she poured a cup of tea and pushed it towards him. “What would you like to eat? I’ve got waffles, bacon, and eggs.”

  “No need to go through all that trouble, I’ll take it myself.”

  “The wood is running low again.”

  He picked up a plate and heaped it with bacon and eggs. “It’s impossible to go out in this weather.”

  “There are a lot of pieces in the shed. I should have brought in more yesterday,” she worried.

  He ignored her. If it got too cold, they could always huddle under the blankets. There was no way in hell he was risking his life to go out into that freezing weather. And neither should she. The way the squall was blowing and with that snow all over the place, any one of them could get lost five meters from the house and not find their way back in. The shed that stood outside was nearly fifty feet away. On a normal day, that walk would take two minutes. Today, it might as well be the last time he or she ever walked.

  “Don’t even think about going out there; it’s too dangerous,” he said.

  He dished out his breakfast, took the phone off charge, and brought everything over to the kitchen table so he could check his emails while he ate. There were dozens of messages in his inbox. His employees must have been wondering where he’d disappeared to. It had been three days already. If he remained missing for long, they might lodge a missing persons report. Toby started to send instructions and replies as he checked each email. Brielle was still fiddling with things in the kitchen. Soon, he was too engrossed to notice what she was up to.

  When a door slammed shut, he jumped. “Shit! I can’t believe she’d risk going out there.” Hustling over to the window, he looked out. He didn’t see her. The snow that was flying about made it impossible to see anything past the patio. Maybe he was wrong. No way a sensible woman like Brielle would step outside in that terrible blizzard. She must have gone upstairs when he was busy fiddling with his damn phone, so he didn’t noticed.

  “Brielle!” he called loudly as he rushed from room to room to check where she was. “Damn it, she must have gone outside.” He raked his fingers through his hair.

  He rushed back to the window to peer outside and see if he could find her, in spite of the curtain of snow that made visibility difficult. But she was nowhere to be seen. There was no time to waste. If she was exposed to the snow, he needed to do something fast. Toby hustled into the pantry adjacent to the kitchen, where he’d seen some supplies when he searched for his phone. He found the long coil of rope exactly where he’d seen it. Terror nearly paralyzed his limbs, but he forced himself to continue. He couldn’t afford to slow down even for a minute because that would put her at greater risk.

  He rushed upstairs to grab the jacket he’d found in the cupboard in his room. He donned the gloves and boots that belonged to Cole, Brielle’s brother-in-law. He jammed a woolen
cap on his head, tied the rope around his waist, and hustled outside. The wind was bitterly cold. Visibility was zero beyond a few feet. Once he jogged down the steps of the patio, it would be difficult to find his way back into this cabin. He’d heard of people freezing to death mere steps away from their houses during storms.

  But his heart was bubbling with fear for Brielle. She’d already been gone for more than ten minutes. Why did she come out in a storm just to get wood? In case she’d actually marched towards the shed to collect the wood, he decided to try there first. Hopefully, she didn’t wander away towards the forest. There was no way he would ever find her if she was that far away.

  Muttering under his breath, he tied the other end of the rope to one of the posts on the railing and then gingerly stepped down the steps. There was a good chance that he would not survive, but he couldn’t let her die. Brielle might have caused him immense pain and hurt, but he simply couldn’t let anything happen to her. And when he got hold of her, he was going to give her a thrashing she wouldn’t forget. Visions of bending her over his knees so that he could spank her bottom surged through his brain.

  He’d been right about the intensity of the blizzard. It was impossible to see his feet. If he stood in one place long enough, he would be buried in snow. But his sense of direction had never failed him. And he would be damned if he allowed it to fail him now. He had to get the woman he loved—love?—safe and sound. Fighting the wind all the way, he kept meandering towards the shed. Much to his relief, Toby reached it within a few minutes. He wrenched the door open and rushed inside. Although the door couldn’t close fully because his rope was stuck through it, the noise of the wind died considerably. He shook his head to clear his mind. He scanned the room.

  She isn’t here.

  Fear scurried through his heart. If he lost her…no, no, no, he wouldn’t even finish the thought. He would find her. He just had to. He wouldn’t be able to live if she died on him.