Cocktails & Dreams

by Autumn Markus

  Just as he tossed it blindly over the side of the bed, they heard Conor shout Nick’s name from downstairs. Heavy footsteps started up the stairs, and then they heard Carmen call to him. There was a chuckle outside the bedroom door, and then the footsteps faded.

  Jena closed her eyes and sighed. “Well, that’s that, I suppose,” she said. She leaned up, resting a hand on Nick’s chest and pressing a firm, brief kiss on his lips before lying back, apparently expecting him to move away from her.

  “Bullshit,” Nicholas said, capturing her head in his hand and covering her mouth with his, teasing her lips with his tongue until she opened her mouth and allowed him to intensify the kiss. Nicholas grasped underneath her knee and drew her leg around him again, his lips tracing a path along her jaw and down her neck.

  “Conor’s waiting,” she said without conviction, whimpering as Nicholas peppered her chest with kisses.

  “Let him wait,” he murmured, palming her breast and gently squeezing. “I don’t give a damn about what anyone wants but you, Jena.” He loved feeling her tremble as he ghosted his hand over her skin while he kissed her again and again. He drew a shuddering breath and stared into her eyes, knowing she was seeing the naked desire in his and not caring. “Tell me you want me,” he whispered, “because I need this so fucking bad.”

  Jena held his gaze, stroking his cheek as she wrapped the other leg over his thigh. “I want you more than I want to breathe.” She cupped his face in her hands. “You’re right. Nothing else matters. Love me.”

  “God, I do. So much.” Nicholas rested his forehead against hers, and she arched her neck until her lips could reach his mouth in a soft, searching kiss.

  “I do, too,” she said quietly into his neck as she kissed her way down from his mouth. “Just you. Always.” Her warm palms stroked his shoulder blades, and she tightened her legs around him. “Please. Now,” she murmured.

  All thoughts apart from the woman beneath him, the way she felt, her scent, her soft cries and the feeling of her body clenching and releasing around him, left Nicholas’s mind, and he lost himself in the moment, in her warmth and softness. In her.

  Jena rested against him after he eased to her side, her eyes closed. “I love you, Nicholas,” she murmured, relaxed and near sleep again. His heart thumped against her hand, and she smiled. “You don’t like hearing that or anything?” she joked, kissing the hollow of his throat.

  “Hate it. Don’t ever say that again,” he tossed back, and then sighed. “I need to clean up a bit. Want to join me?”

  “Nope. This little bed leaves no place to shift, and a warm wet spot beats a cold one any day.” She pushed at his chest when he burst out laughing and chuckled herself. “Go fast, before you have a crack-glaze on your parts. I’ll be waiting.”

  Nicholas slid out from under the covers, shivering a little in the cool air, and grabbed his pajama bottoms. After slipping them on, he turned and saw that Jena was watching him with obvious enjoyment. He leaned over, brushing her hair off her face and kissing her hard. “I hope you never outgrow saying exactly what’s on your mind. Who needs a filter?”

  She smiled and rolled over to snuggle her head in his pillow. “Me. Hurry back.”

  After a quick trip to the bathroom, Nicholas peeked in the door to find Jena sound asleep, her arms wrapped around his pillow and a peaceful expression on her face. He pulled the blankets up over her exposed shoulders and grabbed a shirt before quietly closing the door and descending the stairs.

  Nicholas heard Conor and Carmen laughing over something as he entered the large kitchen. Conor turned on his chair that was pulled up to the central island where Carmen was rolling out sugar cookie dough and grinned. “Look what the cat dragged in. Or some sort of feline anyway.” Carmen’s shoulders shook as she carefully kept her eyes on her work. Conor pointed with his pinky and said, “You have a huge fucking hickey on your shoulder, by the way.”

  That was too much for Carmen, and she bustled toward the pantry, muttering something about flour. She almost made it, too, before she started giggling.

  Yanking his shirt over his head, Nick pushed the sleeves to his elbows. “Shut the fuck up, Conor.” He opened the cupboard and grabbed a mug, pouring himself a cup of coffee before nabbing a cookie off the cooling rack and leaning against the counter.

  Conor’s eyebrows rose. “Nicky grows a set. Impressive.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “Jealous that I have female company?”

  Con sighed. “Fuck, yes.” He rested his forearms on the counter and thumped his forehead on them as Nicholas laughed.

  “Have you seen my mom, by the way?” Nick asked, taking a bite of cookie.

  “Yep. She was just pulling out of the driveway when I drove up. Carmen said she had a Children’s Hospital Christmas party.” His eyes were sympathetic. “I guess she wants to keep busy, huh?”

  Nick nodded. After the funeral, Laura had carried on with the things she had planned before William’s stroke, claiming that the routine soothed her better than anything but Nicholas.

  “Hey!” Conor’s voice made Nick jump. “I actually had a mission to accomplish here. Mom wants you guys to come over tomorrow night, and you can’t say no. She already put your names in the Christmas Eve present drawing as honorary Grady children. You guys got me and Shannon.” He grinned at Nick’s blank look. “Did you seriously think you’d get left out this year? I have a few suggestions for my present, so let’s go. Thought you might need to get your female company something, too.” He smiled.

  “I don’t know, Con…” Nick hedged. “Jena—”

  Conor looked at his watch and jumped up. “Oh, crap. Speaking of—wake Jena up. The girls will be here to get her in twenty minutes to take her out, too.” He looked at Nick expectantly. “Well? Get to it, man.”

  Nick shook his head. “I’ll let you do the honors. First door on the left.” Nicholas raised his eyebrows and grinned wickedly at Conor as he headed for the stairs to wake Jena and then listened to her shriek when she was told she had fifteen minutes to get ready to go out. She dashed down the stairs, showered and dressed, just as a honk sounded outside.

  She pointed at Conor as she pushed her foot into a boot. “I will so get you for this, Conor. You’re just lucky I washed my hair last night.”

  “I wouldn’t think that your hair would be the issue—” he started, but stopped abruptly when Jena’s other boot hit him in the neck. He caught it before it hit the floor and looked at her in amazement before bursting into loud guffaws.

  “Too far, Conor. Too fucking far,” Jena growled, grabbing her boot out of his hands and shoving it on her other foot. She pulled on a hat and stretched her face up for a kiss from Nicholas. The horn honked again and she sighed. “Impatient wenches. Be home soon, I hope. I’ll get the idiot’s present.” She cast Conor an evil grin and leaned in to whisper in Nick’s ear, “Don’t get me anything big, okay? I already got my best present.” Nicholas agreed, and she headed out the door after a final kiss.

  Conor slung his arm around Nicholas’s neck. “I like that girl, Nick. A lot. Aren’t you glad we went to San Fran for New Year’s? And that I broke your shoulder?” He chuckled. “I take full credit for her, of course.”

  “Of course.” Nicholas rolled his eyes and headed for the stairs to get dressed.

  Jena chuckled off and on all the way to Conor’s family home, cradling his gift in her lap. She wouldn’t tell Nick what it was and wouldn’t let him hold it, saying that he’d know what it was right away if he did. Nick kept stealing glances at her as he drove carefully along the snowy streets, wondering if she would like the presents he had planned and enjoying the simple happiness on her face as she hummed along with the carols on the radio. He had a moment’s fleeting guilt for not being with his mother, but Laura had shooed them out the door, saying that she had plans with a friend for her first Christmas without William in many years.

  The usual chaos reigned at Conor’s. His dad, a tall, burly man with a round f
ace and thinning red hair, greeted them at the door, slapping Nicholas on the back and swiftly bending to kiss Jena’s cheek before ushering them in.

  “Let me take your coats, kids,” he said genially, draping them over a chair. “That’s a lovely color on you, my dear,” he said to Jena, admiring her crimson sweater before gesturing around the room, which rapidly emptied and refilled as people drifted in and out. “Find a place to sit, will ya? Though God alone knows where. It’s times like this, when everyone and their loves are here, that I find myself wondering where the hell all these kids came from.”

  “More balls than brains, Dad?” Conor’s redheaded brother, Kevin, tossed out the comment coolly as he passed through the room; Nicholas heard Emma shriek in horror from the kitchen. Another brother and sister burst into giggles and high-fived.

  Mr. Grady, however, just shrugged. “Perhaps he’s right,” he said philosophically. “At any rate, mind the animals, Jena. Nicholas is semi-used to us by now, but you’re such a sweet lass. I’d hate to see them scare you off.”

  Jena laughed hard and wrapped one hand around his thick arm as she set Conor’s present down carefully on a table and pointed a warning finger at Nick. “If you’d ever met my parents, Mr. Grady, you wouldn’t worry. What do you have to drink?”

  They walked off, chatting about drinks, and Nicholas looked around for Conor, finding him stretched out on the floor in front of the TV and watching It’s a Wonderful Life. Nicholas sank down beside him, leaning against the front of the chair in which Meghan sat. She smiled down at him and ruffled his hair before returning her eyes to the screen.

  “Welcome to the jungle, baby.” Conor smiled happily. Spotting Ryan settling on the couch with a snack, he grabbed the pillow out from under his head and shot it across the room, smacking his brother directly in the face and smearing frosting from the cookie Ryan had been raising to his mouth across his cheek.

  “What?” Conor demanded with a grin, chuckling as Ryan stalked out of the room muttering about a napkin and asshole brothers.

  “Gotta keep the young ’uns on their toes,” Conor said complacently. He looked around for Jena. “How’s my favorite girl? Surviving all the boom-boom?”

  Emma bustled in with a bowl of chips and flicked Conor on the ear. “None of that, my boy. Sarah’s wee ones are around here somewhere. You—” She pointed at Meghan, who just grinned as her mother clearly searched for a name. Emma finally gave up with an exasperated shake of her finger. “Child. You know who you are and that I’m talking to you. Find your sister’s kids. She and Doug will be back later, but they needed a few minutes peace.”

  “Fancy that,” Meghan murmured as she rose from her chair, tossing her mother a smile before she yelled, “I’m gonna get you,” and roared like a bear. Nicholas heard tiny voices respond with shrieks from upstairs, and Meghan groaned. “My room. Crap.” She dashed up the stairs.

  Emma handed Conor the bowl of chips, cocked an eyebrow at Nicholas, and held out her arms for her hug, which Nick obligingly gave. She plopped on the couch, smiling at Jena as she re-entered the room and slid her arm around Nick’s waist.

  After getting settled, Emma called out, “Present time.”

  Within a minute, the room was full of Gradys and friends. Gifts were exchanged, paper flew, and cries of pleasure mixed with groans of laughter. Nicholas had been a part of this for the last couple of years, and it was never boring. Conor had explained early on his family’s tradition of each child drawing another child’s name for a gift. They continued it when they got older because it was fun, especially as new friends and significant others were added into the mix.

  Nicholas was just pocketing his gift card from Conor’s brother-in-law when Jena handed the last present to Conor. A roar of laughter went through the room when he pulled out a gigantic jingle bell threaded on a velvet ribbon, and Nicholas was almost nudged off the couch by Emma.

  “Guess he won’t be surprising anyone again,” she whispered in his ear, and Nicholas realized people were stealing sly glances at him as they laughed. He blushed, and they roared again. Conor had the biggest grin of all as he allowed Jena to tie the ribbon around his neck before irritating the crap out of Nicholas by following him everywhere and ringing his bell.

  The party dispersed to various rooms again, and Nicholas found himself a bit melancholy as he watched people laughing and joking around him. It seemed wrong to be having fun this Christmas, and he wondered how Laura was doing on her night out. Settling into a chair in the corner by the tree, Nick watched the party continue around him. He could see Conor stealthily reaching to grab Jena’s sides and realized Conor hadn’t seen the painfinger in action. Sure enough, a second later Conor shrieked at the same time as she did, backing away and cradling his hand to his chest. He looked his mother for sympathy, but she was laughing along with the rest.

  Emma sat on the arm of Nick’s chair with a sigh. “How in the world I got such a mad yoke for a son, I’ll never know.” They both laughed, watching Ryan and Kevin prance around the living room, holding their arms and pretending to cry. “Still he’s no worse than the rest of them, I suppose.” She cast Nick a sideways glance. “He should have learned his lesson about sneaking up on people a day or two ago, yeah?”

  Nicholas felt his face flame again, and Emma laughed heartily before she wrapped her arm around him and rubbed his shoulder briskly. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, my boy,” she said. “It’s a part of life. Something to remind us that we’re alive, even if it seems like we shouldn’t be, yeah?” Nicholas nodded silently. “Conor is a horse’s ass for blabbing, of course, but you have to give him a little leeway. He’s an eejit.”

  “I heard that, Mom,” Conor yelled from the dining room.

  “I certainly hope so, since it was for your benefit,” Emma called back smartly and then she rose, pulling Nicholas from the chair. “No more dwelling, Nicholas. Come play games with the rest of the kids until it’s time to go to midnight mass.” A general chorus of groans came from the other room and Emma sighed as she linked her arm through Nick’s. “I still hold out hope that at least one of my children will turn out not to be a heathen.”

  Christmas morning began with the shrilling of Jena’s phone. Nicholas lay with his arm over his face, listening to Leisa’s excited greeting and chatter about presents, her and Travis’s trip to Arkansas, detailed updates about each of her family’s seventy thousand pets, a recipe for real southern eggnog, inquiries about their families and Conor, and gloating about how much her family loved Travis after all.

  Nicholas drifted off again, listening to the low murmur of Jena’s voice. He only awoke when he felt the slight shaking of the bed as she slid off the side and slipped on her pajamas. Stepping into his own bottoms, Nicholas caught Jena at the door and traced his hands up her arms from her elbows to her shoulders before leaning down to cover the back of her neck with slow kisses, concentrating on the bone at the base of her neck that unhinged her knees.

  Jena sagged as he wrapped an arm around her waist and cradled her against him. “Wow,” she said in an uneven voice “Where did that come from? Not that I’m complaining, but now I want to get you back in bed.”

  Nick’s stomach clenched as he contemplated Jena’s present, and he wondered if it was a stupid idea after all. “I’ll tell you downstairs. And don’t even tempt me with the bed. Conor almost interrupting is one thing, but my mom will be waking up soon…”

  “Too horrible to contemplate,” Jena agreed. “I can’t wait to get you home.” She linked her hand with Nick’s, and they went downstairs, flipping on the lights of the small Christmas tree that had appeared in the living room after one of Emma’s visits. After Nick built a small fire, he led Jena to a loveseat between the fireplace and a bookshelf and sat down, patting the spot next to him. Jena smiled and settled next to him.

  “This is nice,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

  Nicholas kissed the top of her head and leaned across her to study the volumes on a
shelf near her shoulder. He picked one and laid it on his knee. “Yep.” He hesitated for a minute, running his fingers over the cover nervously before he jiggled his shoulder for Jena to raise her head. He turned slightly to face her. “I was thinking, Jena. The other morning…?” She smiled and nodded. “You were telling me about that first morning in San Francisco, and about the things you wished you’d done differently…and you did them. You touched me, and I gave you beard burn and kissed that curve I fucking dreamed about for months and—” He stopped himself, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Crap, you were there. This isn’t coming out right.” He thought for a minute as Jena waited curiously.

  Nicholas picked up her hand. “My point is, it felt great. Remember when you asked for a do-over? When you talked about being a doctor’s wife?” Jena blushed and nodded. “That’s what I want to give you. Do-overs for things I wish I’d done, or I wish I’d done differently. Like upstairs? That day you guys helped me move in, I was watching you arrange books on my shelf, and your hair was up, and I wanted to kiss your neck so damned bad. And I left the room.” Nicholas watched delight blossom on Jena’s face.

  “I would have loved that, Nicholas. I kept thinking about you kissing me, all day. You know, I dreamed very naughty things about you the night before, and I was stressed that I’d just jump you as soon as we walked in your door.” She laughed at herself as Nicholas cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “That’s something I definitely want to revisit. Or are dreams still off the table?” Jena just smiled and shook her head. “Okay, so one do-over down, not counting the ones from the other morning,” he said, opening the volume on his lap and searching for the page he needed. “It’s been a while since I read aloud. The last time was when I was trying to impress you, I think—” he laughed at himself “—so ignore any fuck-ups.” Nicholas cleared his throat and glanced at her again before plunging into a Yeats poem that he knew she loved.