A Husband for the Holidays (Made For Matrimony 1)

by Ami Weaver

  Darcy couldn’t bring herself to say it’d been sold and would be parceled off into home lots. “Maybe,” she said noncommittally, and smiled as she gave the woman her change.

  As she watched them go, Wendy came up to her. “I heard her. Tough, isn’t it?”

  Darcy sighed. “She’s not the only one. I’ve heard some variation of that several times each week. Some people aren’t invested, you know? They’ll just get a tree and move on. For others, it’s a tradition. I never realized or appreciated how much that matters.”

  How shameful was that? She’d grown up in a business that catered to people’s traditions and she’d still missed the point. Until now.

  When it was too late.

  Wendy nodded. “It is hard. I’ve made the same wreaths for a decade for the same people. I know who likes a little more spruce, and who to give the most juniper berries to. Who likes a bigger bow, who prefers flatter. I love to see their faces light up when they come pick them up. It’s all part of the package of tradition. I’ll miss it.” She held out her hands and gave a little laugh. “I won’t miss being stabbed fifty times a day by needles, though. Or getting pitch on my clothes.”

  Darcy smiled and shook her head ruefully. “No. I guess not.”

  Wendy went outside to check the wreaths and grave blankets—Darcy had sold a few—and it was quiet for a moment in the barn.

  Until Mack walked in.

  She’d asked him earlier about the dog, whom he’d named Fraser. He’d made it through the night. Mack was cautiously optimistic he’d pull through physically. Emotionally, he couldn’t say.

  She gave him a little smile. “Hey. Staying warm?”

  He walked over and snitched a candy cane from her bowl. “Yep.”

  She frowned at him and teased, “Hey. Those are for paying customers only.”

  He arched an eyebrow and the look in his eyes went hot. Oh, my. An answering heat tugged low in her belly. “What’s your price?”

  Her mind went unhelpfully blank. “Um, well.”

  “How about I suggest one?” He moved behind the register and the plastic wrapper of the candy cane crinkled loudly as he put his hands on her shoulders. She licked her lips and could say nothing as he lowered his mouth to hers. “This okay?” he whispered, so close but still too far. In response, she pressed her mouth to his.

  “Oops,” Wendy’s voice, and laughter, carried through the little cocoon that had woven around them. “Sorry to interrupt you kids.”

  He made a hungry sound in his throat and she pulled away, breathing hard, feeling her face flame. He pressed his lips to her forehead and gave a little chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, not seeing anything humorous in the way her body revved and ached for his. For him. Plus, Wendy had caught them, even if she had stepped back out of the room.

  “I don’t know.” He released her and stepped back. “We’re just like a couple of teenagers sometimes.”

  She closed her eyes. “We’re at work. This is a family place. When you and I kiss...” She trailed off.

  There was a predatory light in his eyes now. “When you and I kiss, what?” he prompted.

  She lifted her chin. “It gets out of control, okay? And this isn’t the place for that.” There. She’d said it.

  He caught her chin. “You’re right. It’s not. Come to my place after we’re done here.”

  He was completely serious. A thrill shivered down her spine. “I don’t know.”

  He leaned down and gave her another quick kiss, and filched another candy cane. “The offer stands,” he said, and sauntered out as another family made their way in. He sent her a wink over their heads and Darcy wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or scream.

  Or risk going over to his place. She knew exactly what was being offered there. But she wasn’t sure she could spend the time with him and walk away whole when it was time for her to go.

  * * *

  Darcy went home afterward, gave her report to her uncle and headed upstairs to shower. As she stood under the steaming water, she wrestled with herself over Mack’s invitation. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go. She did. It was that she was afraid she was getting in too deep already.

  Maybe it didn’t even matter anymore. It was going to hurt when she left either way. This time, though, she could control it. And maybe minimize the regrets.

  She turned off the water and toweled off quickly. In the steamy mirror she couldn’t see the jagged scar on her abdomen, but she was aware it was there. Mack hadn’t been put off by it. In her two sexual encounters in the seven years since her marriage ended, the room had been dark and it had been only one time. Each.

  She dressed and dried her hair, combing it into place and securing it with a clip. A little mascara and she was good to go. She took a deep breath. From the time, she knew Uncle Joe and Aunt Marla would have retired to their room. She tossed a few necessities into a small bag she pulled from the closet and headed out before she lost her nerve.

  Except Marla was in the kitchen.

  Darcy froze, feeling for all the world like a teenager caught sneaking out when Marla’s gaze fell to the bag, then up to Darcy’s face. She surprised Darcy by laughing.

  “Don’t look so guilty, honey. No one here is surprised to see this rekindle with you and Mack.” Then she sobered. “Is it serious, Darcy?”

  Darcy sank down in the chair across from her and let her bag slide to the floor at her feet. “I don’t know, Aunt Marla. There are so many reasons why it can’t be, and yet...” She left the words unsaid.

  “And yet it is anyway,” Marla finished softly. Darcy could only nod. “Tell me again why you are fighting this?”

  “You mean other than the fact that my life is in Chicago?” Was that her only reason?

  Marla nodded. “Where’s your heart?” She held up a hand before Darcy could speak, not that she had any answer for that question. “You don’t have to tell me. You have to be honest with yourself. Go to him. Take some of that pie. And don’t come home until morning.”

  Darcy was pretty sure her face was as red as the flaming red teakettle on the stove. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Marla drew her in for a hug when they both stood up. “We just want you happy, honey. That’s all.”

  * * *

  Mack had half expected Darcy not to show up. As it got later, and he looked at the damn clock every two minutes, he tried to convince himself he didn’t care.

  It wasn’t true.

  He’d checked on Fraser, who looked to be out of immediate danger but not out of the woods by a long shot. Jenn would check on him a couple more times before morning.

  Another look at the clock. The cat sat on the back of the couch and cracked one eye halfway open when Mack leaned forward to check the time on his phone. Again. In case it was different than the time on the wall clock.

  It wasn’t.

  He sat back with a thump, which finally dislodged the cat, who stomped over his lap on her way to the floor, where she sauntered off with a baleful flick of her tail.

  This was stupid. He stared at the game on TV, not even caring what the score was, and usually he was glued to his alma mater’s basketball games.

  It didn’t mean anything if she didn’t come. It meant she didn’t come and that was that. He was a big boy and could handle it. He knew she was wavering on the edge and so was he. Just because things had been good in the past didn’t mean they’d be good now and all that. After all, they’d never dealt with the things in the past.

  He almost had himself convinced she’d done them both a favor by not showing up when there was a knock on the door. He got off the couch as if he were rocket propelled, then forced himself to walk slowly to the door and ignored his stupid racing pulse.

  It was Darcy, looking a little nervous as she
worried her lower lip between her teeth. A lip he had every intention of kissing in the next few minutes. “Hi,” he managed.

  “Hi,” she said, almost shy. She lifted a container. “Marla sent pie. She caught me on my way out.” Then she blushed.

  Mack took the container and Darcy’s arm and drew her inside. Something about the way she’d phrased that bothered him. “Caught you?”

  The blush deepened as she unzipped her coat. “I went in the kitchen and she was there. I was hoping...” She trailed off and Mack’s stomach dropped.

  “You were hoping to avoid anyone knowing you are here?”

  Her eyes widened. “No. I was hoping to avoid acknowledging what was going to happen when I came here. Even as an adult, it’s an awkward thing to share with your relatives.”

  He pulled her in and kissed her, long and slow and deep. “And what’s going to happen now that you’re here?”

  She plucked the container out of his hand with trembling fingers. “We’re going to eat pie, of course.”

  With a laugh he followed her into the kitchen, watching as she greeted the dogs, who wagged at her as if she were a long-lost friend, before setting the dish down. He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her from behind and buried his face in her hair, like he used to do when they were dating, then married. She wrapped her arms around his and tilted her head so he could kiss her neck.

  “Can the pie wait?” he whispered, and pressed against her backside, letting her feel his erection. She made him crazy and hungry and it wasn’t for pie. She pressed back, making him groan her name, then turned in his arms.

  “Make love to me,” she whispered, and he had her mouth, kissing her as if the whole world depended on it, before she could finish the last word.

  They didn’t make it very far, just out to the couch by the Christmas tree, and he’d managed to divest them each of their shirts and her bra by the time they got there.

  With his hands full of Darcy’s glorious breasts, he couldn’t get her pants off, but that was okay because right now these needed his attention. He alternated between each sweet nipple with his tongue and his thumb, feeling her rise beneath him as she fumbled for the snap on his jeans. “Mack,” she pleaded, and he shifted so she could get where they both wanted her to go.

  When she tugged the zipper down and slid her hand into his boxers, closing around him, he groaned. “Darce,” he panted.

  A wicked smile curved her lips as her hand started to move up and down his length. “What?”

  He’d forgotten. “Hell, honey—”

  Her hand moved away and she started tugging on his jeans. “Off,” she commanded, and he was more than happy to oblige. “Now sit and let me,” she whispered. His erection throbbed and jumped and he fisted his hands in her hair as her hot mouth took him to the point the stars exploded around him.

  It took him a minute to refocus and when he did, the only thing he saw was Darcy, kneeling between his legs, a smile on her face. Her breasts brushed the inside of his thighs as she leaned forward to get up. He caught her arms. “Your turn.”

  He had her pants down around her ankles and his mouth on her before she could do much more than gasp. She managed to get one foot out of her jeans and he lifted that leg up on his own thigh so he had better access to her. He wrapped his arm around her rear and held on as she braced her arms on his shoulders. She was so ready for him, so wet and hot, and she tasted like his own personal heaven. Her whimpers turned to cries as she reached her peak, and when she came apart he lowered her into his lap and drove himself home.

  “Darcy,” he growled, and she wrapped her arms around him, her breasts rubbing on his chest, and all that glorious friction and wetness and heat sent him right over the edge again, and by the contractions around him she was right there with him.

  Spent, he lay back on the couch and arranged her next to him. “Wow,” she breathed.

  He pressed a kiss to her head. “Yeah. Wow.” Clearly, they had no problems in the sex department. They never had. But it had never been that—explosive before. And it’d been plenty hot.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sometime later, Darcy woke to feel Mack’s fingers lightly stroking her flank. She blinked and lifted her head. He chuckled.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  She started to sit up and his hand came up to cup her breast. “Did I doze off?”

  “We both did.” He pulled her on top of him and took a nipple in his mouth, giving it a slow, lazy circle with his tongue. The tip of his erection pressed against her thigh. She adjusted so she could slide right down and take him all in. His hips rose to meet her and he let out a low groan.

  This time they moved slow and sweet, and when the climax broke over her, he followed her over and held her while they floated back down, their bodies still joined. This wasn’t sex. This was intimacy. That meant there were feelings involved.

  Her stomach growled and he laughed. She lifted her head off his chest and managed a grin. “I guess it’s time for pie.”

  * * *

  It was a wonderful evening. They ate pie naked and talked—not about the past—and made love one last time, in his bed, before falling asleep. Her last thought, before she drifted off, was this was how it was supposed to be, all those years ago.

  In the morning when she woke, Mack was gone, but she smelled coffee. Her clothes were neatly folded on top of the dresser, and her bag was on the floor in front of it. She stretched and couldn’t help smiling at the slight soreness. They’d been busy and she’d loved every minute of it.

  She got out of bed, took a quick shower, dressed and went in search of the coffee. There was a note on the counter.

  Good morning, sexy. Had to go check on Fraser. See you soon.

  Not a lot, but it made her smile.

  She poured the coffee into the mug he’d left out for her and patted the dogs, who seemed quizzical as to why she was still there. “It’s okay, girls. I’ll be on my way soon.”

  That was true in more ways than one, she knew. She’d be out of Holden’s Crossing in a couple of weeks. And this would all be a wonderful memory. Much better than her last memories of her and Mack. They both deserved better.

  It still meant she had to leave.

  * * *

  “Did you have a nice time, dear?” was all Marla asked when Darcy walked in the kitchen.

  She held out the pie plate, trying not to picture her and Mack eating from it naked, feeding each other straight from the dish. Seemed very inappropriate here in her aunt’s kitchen. “Yes.”

  “That’s good.” Marla turned to the chicken she was preparing. “Joe’s going to go out to the barn tonight with you guys for a bit. Will you help me make sure he stays put and doesn’t wander off to overdo it? You know your uncle. He’ll want to ‘check’—” here she used air quotes “—everything.”

  Darcy smiled, grateful the topic of her and Mack had been dropped. “Oh, yes. He will. Of course. We’ll find a way to keep him busy.” Her phone rang. A local number, but not one she knew. “Hello?” she said as she left the kitchen.

  “It’s Cheryl. Are you free for lunch today? I know it’s short notice.”

  “I’d love that. When and where?”

  Cheryl named a new café Darcy wasn’t familiar with and they agreed to meet just before noon. That would give Darcy enough time to do some catching up with work emails and then be back in time for the evening’s shift at the farm.

  “So nice that you and Cheryl are reconnecting,” Marla commented when Darcy told her her plans. “I was always so sad you let all those friendships go. Wasn’t healthy for you to be so alone.”

  Darcy stood in the kitchen, her briefcase in one hand and her phone in the other. A stab of regret hit her hard. “I know. I just—couldn’t do it. Be reminded.” She’d had to bury her son
and her marriage, too. It had been too much to hold. She’d been afraid that someone would tell her how Mack was doing and she’d never been sure what she’d been more worried about—that he’d be fine, or that he wouldn’t be. Either one made no sense.

  Marta laid her knife on the counter and wiped her hands on the dishrag. “I know. But you never allowed yourself to heal, Darcy. You closed it all off, but never let yourself work through the pain. It was too much for one person.”

  She didn’t want to do this. Not now, not ever. “I’m fine.”

  Marla sighed and nodded. “I won’t push. But let yourself feel, Darcy. You deserve to be happy. So does Mack.”

  Darcy slipped on her boots and walked out into the falling snow. Of course he did. They both did. But the only way she’d ever been able to really make him happy had been in bed. That hadn’t changed, clearly, as they were combustible together. But didn’t that mean they hadn’t changed in other ways—and she hadn’t been enough for him then. Why would now be any different?

  * * *

  Darcy pulled into the café’s parking lot with five minutes to spare. She was looking forward to this, but a little nervous, too. She didn’t want to blow it. She’d love to leave here with her friendship with Cheryl back on track.

  Of course, she might have to come back sometimes for visits. But she wouldn’t let that stop her. She could probably manage to avoid Mack, if it came to that.

  They placed their orders with the cheerful girl behind the counter once Cheryl came in and greeted Darcy with a hug, as if they hadn’t been apart for years. They chatted for a few minutes while waiting for their food, and once they were seated Cheryl asked the question that Darcy had been trying to figure out if she was going to bring up. “So. Tell me about Mack. Are you back together with him?”

  “Ah.” Darcy gave a little laugh and set her sandwich down. She hadn’t even managed a bite. “No. Not really.”

  “Not really isn’t an answer,” Cheryl said slowly. Her expression was sympathetic. “What’s going on, Darce? You don’t have to tell me,” she added quickly. “I understand.”