by Aria Ford
I bit my lip and followed the kids back to the kitchen for breakfast.
“Hello?”
The voice that spoke from the door behind me made my entire body shiver. It was Carson. I turned around. He was standing in the doorway, a slightly sheepish grin on his face. He had remembered the tradition and dressed in jeans but with a tweed blazer that looked absolutely rugged and stunning on him. I felt my belly warm with longing and I stood, turning to face him. I saw his eyes widen and then narrow as they took in my appearance and my heart soared, cheeks flaming.
“Hello,” I said simply.
He held out a hand and I took it. My thumb rubbed the roughness of his knuckles and I looked into those dark eyes. He smiled at me.
“Carson! You want coffee?” Brett said from behind me. Carson nodded.
“Yes, thanks Brett. That would be awesome.”
We all sat down for breakfast together. He was sitting beside me. My whole body tingled at his presence. He was not looking at me, but every now and then I caught his eye swiveling toward me, often as mine glanced at him. The third time it happened, I saw him bite back a grin. My whole body melted.
“So,” Reese was saying, passing me a tray of toast. “Are we going to open gifts now?”
“Gifts!” Josh exclaimed loudly, as if it was the most exciting thing in the world.
We all laughed.
“Okay,” Brett said, swallowing the last of his coffee. “Let’s go and find some.”
“Hurray!”
Both kids vaulted from their seats and followed Brett into the sitting room. The three of us looked at each other in contented silence.
“I should go and fetch my things from upstairs,” I said, feeling nervous. Now, more than ever, I wished I’d brought something for Carson. He had turned and was looking into my eyes. He smiled warmly.
“Great plan. So should I.”
We went out into the hallway together. I walked next to him, my eyes rigidly ahead, not wanting to touch him. As I drifted past, my hand slid against his and I tensed, feeling the jolt of longing that had been there all morning suddenly spark like tinder.
“I’ll be down in two seconds,” I said through a dry throat, hurrying up the stairs ahead of him. I grabbed my bags of gifts, lamenting the lack of a fifth one, and hurried to the sitting room.
Once there, we all took a place in the chairs while the kids dove under the tree, where their presents had been piled up, gleaming with shiny wrapping and ribbon.
“Okay,” Reese said, taking over as master of ceremonies, “let’s start unwrapping.”
“Whee!”
“Hurray!”
The enthusiastic shouts from under the tree were echoed by soft smiles from the adults. I was opposite Carson and the look on his face was so tender that I blinked rapidly so as not to start crying again.
“Aw, sweetie!”
“You shouldn’t have!”
Brett and Reese were opening their gifts from each other. Carson and I watched, soft smiles on our faces, as the two of them expressed their love for one another. Reese had perfume, which she sprayed on herself liberally, filling the room with a sudden soft floral scent. Brett breathed in appreciatively and she giggled.
“Just what I needed,” Brett explained, showing us his gift, which turned out to be a voucher for a fancy menswear store.
“Oh, nice,” I said, nodding appreciatively.
“So much better than having to guess myself,” Reese said, rolling her eyes, making me chuckle.
“I got a sword! Look!” Josh said, producing a handsomely-crafted wooden saber. He brandished it with immense pride.
“I’ll show you how to use that later,” Carson promised, making me raise a brow at him inquiringly.
“My dad did fencing at college,” Carson explained softly. “He taught me the basics. You can’t start them too young, you know.” He winked.
I smiled back. “I didn’t know you did fencing. You should show me.”
“I’m too shy.”
I felt my heart melt at that smile. He couldn’t have said something more guaranteed to move me. I had never realized it before, but his aloofness really was shyness, not snobbery. I wished I had realized that ten years ago. It might have made things easier to understand.
“Okay,” I said, through a tight throat. “I promise not to watch.”
“Okay,” he chuckled.
“Come on, you two!” Brett interrupted. “You’re not opening presents.”
“You’re right!” I said.
He laughed. “Come on. Yours are over there, Amelia. And yours are by the fireplace, Carson.”
We both stood and, feeling like a little kid, I started to unwrap my gifts. There were three parcels. The first was predictable—a raincoat from the store for which Reese worked; an upmarket boutique for women. It was classic and elegant and I loved it. The second was from Brett—an external hard drive. I rolled my eyes at him.
“Well? It’s so you can save your photos on something,” Brett said with a smile.
“You really are my big brother, aren’t you?” I hugged him.
When we moved apart, we were both blinking back tears. I loved my brother so much it hurt.
I looked over at Carson, who had received a deluxe box of chocolates and a silk tie. He looked absurdly pleased with both gifts, and was already opening the chocolates. I looked at my last gift.
Who is it from?
It was small—very small—and wrapped in plain gold paper, the latter slightly rumpled as if it had been carried in a case or pocket over distance. I frowned.
It isn’t. It can’t be.
But it must have been. It must be from Carson.
Fingers trembling, I started to open it. As I worried at the sticky tape—it was really well-fastened down—I felt his gaze on me. I looked up into his level brown eyes and then looked away again, feeling my heart shiver.
I opened the parcel. Looked at the small, oblong box in my hands. I felt my heart stop.
He wouldn’t have. It isn’t.
But it was. In the box, coiled on its plump red cushioning was the little heart-shaped locket he had given me when I was seventeen. I had given it back when we split up. I hadn’t wanted to see it after that. But here, winking up at me in the light of a brace of candles, it was.
“Carson! I…oh…” I sighed. There were no words for this. I felt my throat close and swallowed hard, trying to work away the lump that filled my throat so I could speak again. But what could I say?
Reese was watching us thoughtfully. Brett was on his knees on the floor, collecting spent wrapping-paper and the kids were racing cars around the tree. I was dimly aware of all of it, but my eyes were glued to Carson.
He was smiling.
“You like it?” he whispered.
I nodded. “Oh, Carson. I…”
I sniffed. I suddenly needed to be elsewhere. I stood and walked quickly to the kitchen, heels clicking on the tiles. He followed me in.
“Oh, Carson,” I whispered. I reached out and took his hands. He held mine steadily. His fingers worked over the skin of my knuckles, caressing it softly.
“First,” he said in a ragged whisper, “I have something to say.” He swallowed and began again. “I have to say I’m sorry.”
“No, you don’t,” I said gently. “Carson, you don’t have to say sorry for anything.”
The old, familiar words between us took on a new layer of meaning. I leaned forward and he leaned forward and his mouth was soft on mine. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his chest and his arms closed around me, holding me tight against him.
Enveloped in the warmth of his embrace, his firm lips tender on mine, we stood there, rocking gently, as the CD player played “Angels from the realms of Glory.”
“Oh, Carson,” I murmured against his mouth as he broke away and looked into my eyes.
“I wanted you to have it,” he whispered. “It’s like my heart. It was always yours.”
I really
did cry then. Burying my face in his shirt, I sobbed and sobbed. He stroked my back and held me close and together we healed something in the cozy, spice-scented space of the kitchen. At length, my nose twitched.
“Oh, heck.”
“Is that…”
“My cookies!”
Reese, her cool composure shattered temporarily, burst into the kitchen and threw open the oven door, emitting smoke.
We all laughed. After a moment of horror, she laughed too. We all stood in the kitchen, bracing ourselves on the table, as we laughed and tears of merriment poured down our faces to the strains of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.”
Brett arrived in the kitchen with the kids, took one look at the smoke and, laughing, wrapped his arms around Reese tenderly.
“My beloved, all is not hopeless: we can make trifle.”
We all laughed. Reese kissed his cheek. “My gallant husband.”
Seeing them together, I felt a lump in my throat. Carson caught my eye and the look on his face was so tender I felt my heart melt.
The kids, sensing something momentous and happy had occurred in the sitting room, were dancing around the kitchen, singing along with the carol. There was an infinity of happiness in those four small walls and my heart soared.
Yes, there really was such a thing as Christmas magic, I decided.
We all set about preparing dinner after that. My gravy was a success, which was as much a proof of Christmas magic as any. I was nervous about how it would taste, but at least, as I put it aside to stay warm until required, I knew it was smooth and well-mixed.
“Okay,” Reese announced, sighing, “now all we have to do is wait for the oven to work.”
The kids, who had been helping, raced back out to the sitting room to play on the hearth with their new cards from Reese’s mother. We all sat around the table, peaceful and expectant, the crackle of the fire the only real sound in the room, Carson stood and excused himself.
“Sorry, guys. I have to make a phone-call.”
“Sure, Carson,” Brett called amiably after him. “Just don’t take long. I want to play snap, and I intend to beat you.”
“You keep on thinking that, Brett Carlyle. I’ll be back in a moment.”
We all laughed. When Carson had gone out, I caught Brett and Reese exchanging a strange look. I frowned.
They can’ t still be worried he’s going to get drunk again! Can they?
I sighed. Carson hadn’t touched any booze since that day, though the rest of us had shared a bottle of champagne. He and the kids had stuck to fruit juice and he seemed happy with that. I was sure he wasn’t going to make a scene. I wondered what Reese and Brett thought.
Oh, well, I sighed, looking up at the ceiling as I listened to the gentle murmur of conversation, the crackle of a fire and the distant sound of carols from the sitting room. Whatever it is, I’ll find out soon.
Right now, all I wanted to do was sit in the warm, spicy space of the kitchen and enjoy the warmth and love that filled every corner of it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Amelia
Christmas lunch happened an hour after midday. The first course was a winter salad, supplied by Reese. It was delicious. Sweet, sour and crunchy, I made a mental note to ask her for the recipe.
“I’ll have to fetch the roast,” Brett smiled. He was seated one place down from me. I was beside Josh, Reese on my right. Carson was across the table.
“Let me help,” he said. He had been watching me covertly through lunch and I felt my heart lurch as he stood, as if even temporary loss of his presence was hard to bear. I grinned at myself.
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 l
ooked 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.
