by Toni Blake
It left an inevitable question in the air. “So do you think I’m an ass now?”
Like the last question he’d asked her, she seemed to consider her answer carefully before replying. “Overall, you’re still probably one of the best people I know. And making out is less of a crime than sex. But . . . ”
He sucked in his breath, his chest going hollow. “But?”
Instead of answering, she simply sighed, letting her eyes drop from his face to his chest. “Well, I guess I’m just sensitive about that sort of thing right now. But for what it’s worth, this kind of answers my original question. I get it now.”
“Get what?”
She felt his pointed glance. “What you’re really upset about. Sort of, anyway.”
“Is that so?” he asked.
“Like I thought, it’s not just the boys’ trip—it’s all of this.”
“All of this?” he asked cynically.
She turned her head, bringing them face-to-face on the pillow they still shared. “You feel just like I do. You had a family and a home and you thought you knew exactly what your life was going to be—and then it suddenly wasn’t that way. You walk around acting like everything’s fine, but deep down inside, you don’t like being divorced any more than I do.”
Huh. Was she right? Was that what he was really upset about? Well, who cared? And if she was waiting for him to agree with her, she had another thing coming. He kept his reply simple. “Are you done, Dr. Sue Ann Freud?”
Next to him, she shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Well then, if you’ve grilled me enough, I suggest we go back to sleep.”
The first rays of daylight brought Sue Ann’s eyes open.
Sun shone through the window across the room, telling her the snow must have ended.
Good.
And the cabin was nice and toasty—a glance to the stone hearth revealed a roaring fire, something Adam must have tended to in the night.
Also good.
And a glimpse downward reminded her that . . . uh-oh. She was naked. She was a naked, casual-sex-having wanton who’d gone wild with Adam Becker last night like it was nothing! Oh boy.
First things first—where was he? A glance to her right revealed that, okay, he was approximately one inch from her naked body—and equally naked. And awake, too. Sheesh. “Morning,” he said.
Oh Lord, the warmth of a blush climbed her cheeks, just from that. “Morning,” she returned. But she couldn’t quite look at him.
He stayed quiet for a second, then said, “This is gonna be weird, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” she said, nodding. It was something about the morning bringing back the concept of real life. It was something about the sun shining a bright light on things that had been easier to accept in the dark. A nervousness far more severe than anything she’d experienced with him last night suddenly raced through her veins.
She heard his sigh next to her and grew unwittingly aware of the warmth of his body against hers beneath the covers. “Look, Sue Ann, there’s no reason we have to act any differently to each other. This doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
Uh-huh, yeah, sure. “Easy for you to say,” she spat out before thinking.
“It is?” he asked, sounding so surprised that she had to look at him now. And oh. My. He was especially sexy in the morning, all rumpled and mussed.
“Well, you probably do this all the time,” she declared a bit too hysterically for her liking.
“Do what?”
“Have sex.”
He looked unsure how to reply.
And she felt unsure about this entire conversation. Why had she started acting like having sex was the most heinous act on the planet?
“Um, yeah, sometimes,” he admitted. “But . . . not with friends.”
“Well, I haven’t exactly been having sex with anybody lately, friend or foe, so you’re one up on me. Or more than one, actually. However many women you’ve done it with since your divorce.” Dear God, be quiet. What’s wrong with you?
But she knew what was wrong. This “morning after” business would have been awkward enough on its own, but knowing what she knew now made it a little worse. Not only because it stung to think of Adam cheating on his wife, but because . . . she’d thought she knew him. And after what they’d just done, the comfort she’d taken with him, the intimacy they’d shared . . . well, she’d wanted to know him. She’d wanted to believe he was the same perfect guy she’d always thought him. She was tired of getting surprises about men, tired of thinking they were something they weren’t. So it had broken her heart just a little—and changed her world still a bit more—to find out Adam wasn’t completely who she’d thought he was.
And her reaction to what he’d shared wasn’t his fault—she knew that. But . . . well, there for a little while, she’d felt so crazily, sexily, intimately close to him—and now, unfortunately, she’d woken up feeling closer to the opposite.
“Okay, here’s the thing,” she said, trying to sound smarter and more rational than she had so far this morning. “Last night was . . . um, pretty great, but—”
“You said spectacular.”
“Huh?”
He looked matter-of-fact. “I’m just pointing out that you said it was spectacular.”
Oh dear. The reminder warmed her face with a blush and brought back memories. Spectacular ones, of course. “Still,” she tried to move on, “my point is that . . . we were both drinking, and in a weird situation, and . . . I think it’s best if we just forget about it after we leave here. Forget about it and act normal.”
“Of course,” Adam said. As if it had never crossed his mind that it could possibly turn into more than a one-time thing. As if this were clearly the only way to handle it.
So why did she feel a little disappointed? After all, she was the one declaring they should forget it.
But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that his quick agreement shored up her original conclusions. Adam might be a great guy most of the time, but when it came to romance—or sex, or whatever—she didn’t need to be getting involved with him. She supposed things like trust just felt even more important to her than usual right now. And it was far too soon for something like this after her breakup anyway. And besides, he was Jeff’s best friend! And ugh, he apparently wasn’t even interested in her, for God’s sake!
“Cold?” he asked then, pulling the covers up snugger around her shoulders. So he was suddenly back to being sweet and sexy again? Oh boy.
“Um, a little,” she lied. And there was a part of her that wanted Adam to take the opportunity to cuddle against her to warm her up—even though she wasn’t really cold—but a bigger, wiser part of her immediately remembered concepts like cheating and too soon and ex’s BFF, so she said, “I wonder how the roads are.”
“I heard a plow come through about an hour ago, so that’s a good sign. I can probably get out of your hair this morning.”
Hmm. Funny. One minute he’d been an intruder, the next he’d been giving her multiple orgasms. “You can have the cabin for the rest of the weekend,” she told him on impulse.
He blinked, looking almost skeptical, like she might be trying to pull the wool over his eyes. “Why? Last night I got the idea you really needed some peace and quiet.”
Um, yeah, this is no longer a place of peace and quiet for me. This will now and forever be the place where I had hot sex with you. She resisted telling him that, though, and instead fell back on another version of the truth. “Well, I’m not sure it was really working—I’m more of a keep-busy kinda gal. And God knows I have plenty to do at home—gifts to wrap, trees to trim, jobs to find, all that.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, despite how it might have seemed, I don’t want to run you out.”
But she shook her head, wondering if she was acting as nervous as she continued to feel. “Yeah, I’m sure. Christmas is coming, whether I like it or not. Along with wondering how I’m going to support myself. Merry Chris
tmas to me, right?” she asked cynically, more to the bunk bed above her than to Adam, but she still regretted it instantly. She was waking up to the troubles of real life, but there was no reason to shove them down anyone else’s throat.
And from there, she simply tugged the top blanket from the bed to wrap it around her—still shy now about being naked—eased out of the lower bunk, then plucked up her overnight bag from the floor and headed to the bathroom.
She tried not to think as she stepped beneath the spray of a hot shower—she tried not to remember the way Adam had touched her or kissed her, or that her body felt . . . almost brand new in some odd sense. Because yeah, thoughts like that were still a damn nice distraction from the problems facing her now, but in another way, they were just as troubling. I was so aggressive at moments—yikes. I don’t even know if men like that. Although . . . wow—I know I liked the stuff he did to me. But stop thinking about it. So she tried to focus instead on just rushing to get in and out, out of the shower, and out of the cabin.
By the time she exited the bathroom wearing a thick sweater and blue jeans, Adam had dressed and gone out to assess the road situation, informing her that a path had been cleared and that the old man in the office had assured him the hill had been salted hours ago and traffic could come and go freely in the valley again.
Well, that was a relief.
And so, as she prepared to depart, Sue Ann tried her best to start acting at least a little bit normal—especially since that’s what she’d told him they should do. She made a point of asking how his parents were, and of telling him Sophie and she would be by to pick out a tree soon, since he ran a Christmas tree lot at his landscaping business every December.
Meanwhile, he used the broom she’d defended herself with the night before to clear the snow from her car, then helped her load her things in the trunk. And there were moments when, if she tried really hard, she was almost able to pretend everything really was normal between them. Even though it wasn’t. But that’s okay—it’s bound to take a little time.
Heading back inside the cabin with Adam to grab the last couple of things, she took a look around—at the rug where they’d lain together, the chair where they’d taken Act Two—and her stomach contracted a little. She wasn’t sure why, though—if it was because of the weirdness of it all or . . . if it was the memory of the thick, burning passion they’d shared.
Bundled up in her parka with the fur-trimmed hood, keys in hand, she headed to the door where she scooped up her purse, her unopened real estate manual, and the box of finished Christmas cards. Adam had just returned the broom to its spot near the hearth, and he turned to say, “All set?”
She simply nodded.
“Um, sorry I was a crazed cabin killer last night.”
She squinted slightly, not understanding. “You weren’t really a crazed . . .”
“I just mean—sorry about busting in on your privacy and acting like a jerk.”
She shook her head, mainly just eager to leave now and put this all behind her. No matter how hot he looked all unshaven and bundled up in flannel. And why the hell was that suddenly sexy? “Everybody’s entitled now and then,” she replied. “And . . . it was a weird situation.”
Now he was the one who nodded, and—oh God—she was just about to get caught up in recalling how blue his eyes had been when he’d been moving inside her . . . when a funny, almost amused look came over his face.
“What?” she asked.
“I just remembered something, that’s all.”
“What is it?”
But he shook his head. “Nothing.”
Okay, whatever—it was time to go.
And she had just opened the door when Adam said, “All right, it’s that I never got a chance to tell you something. About yesterday.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s that I was the, uh . . .” He stopped, chuckled silently, then said, “Let’s put it this way. It was nice playing reindeer games with you.”
Reindeer games?
Then she gasped, suddenly understanding—oh God, Adam had been the reindeer in the department store!
In reply, she simply bit her lip, met his gaze, and—despite herself—let a small smile sneak out before pulling the cabin door closed behind her.
Wow. One more surprise this weekend.
But it was time to head back to real life now. No matter how fun those reindeer games had been.
Five
“Every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.”
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
Adam swung his truck into the parking area of Becker Landscaping—newly transformed into a Christmas tree lot—just after noon on Sunday, on his way back from the cabin. He hadn’t planned to return to Destiny so early, but in the end, it had seemed easier than staying at the lake. He’d thought he’d be happy when Sue Ann left, yet it had seemed . . . hell, boring after that. So boring that he’d actually ended up having dinner with Grayson last night.
So maybe going there alone hadn’t been such a hot idea, after all. Sue Ann had been right—he didn’t like being divorced; the radical life changes involved in that just hadn’t suited him. He enjoyed being around people, had liked having someone to come home to, and he especially loved being around his kids.
Though he’d been a little taken aback by her revelation on the topic. Because he hadn’t ever really bothered to draw the lines connecting them in his head, but . . . damn, the more he’d thought about it, the more he’d realized it was all true. Having his boys gone had somehow brought the divorce back, front and center, on his personal radar screen. Maybe it just reminded him that . . . well, his life hadn’t turned out the way he’d planned. And that if he’d just been a little stronger and toughed things out, he might still have a family—and the normal family life he’d wanted for his kids.
As he got out of the truck, he immediately spotted a few things that irked him, making his jaw clench.
“Hey boss, didn’t expect to see ya so soon,” said Chuck Whaley, an amiable young guy who’d worked for him year-round since his high school graduation five years ago.
“Well, I came back early,” Adam snapped. He didn‘t mean to snap, but he could tell from the expression on Chuck’s face that he had. Shit, apparently he hadn’t returned from his trip in any better mood than when he’d gone.
“Um, okay,” Chuck said—then looked like he was tiptoeing on a thin sheet of ice when he timidly asked, “Did ya have a nice time?”
Adam took a deep breath, tried to be civil. “Not really,” he replied. “And how come the snow hasn’t been cleared from the parking lot? Church just let out—we’ll have tree shoppers this afternoon.” The accumulation wasn’t deep—nothing like what he and Sue Ann had seen at Bear Lake—but it would become a slushy mess soon.
“Sorry,” Chuck said, his face coloring slightly. “I’ll get right on it.”
And that’s when Adam realized he was still acting like a jerk, civil tone or not. Until now, he’d never had a cross word with Chuck in five years.
“Chuck,” he called as the young man headed for a company truck sporting a snowplow.
Chuck stopped, looked over his shoulder.
“Sorry I’m acting pissy. It’s me, not you.”
Chuck just nodded and said, “No problem,” but Adam thought he still appeared wary as he went on his way.
Damn, I gotta stop taking my troubles out on everybody. First it had been Sue Ann in the cabin, and now Chuck. But hell . . . if he was honest with himself, he felt even Scroogier today than when he’d first arrived at the lake.
And at least part of that was Sue Ann’s fault. For prying into the details of his divorce.
Because he didn’t talk about that. To anyone. Ever. He just didn’t like airing his troubles far and wide. He and Sheila didn’t get along great, even now, but he’d once loved her, and to him, that
was reason enough to keep their problems to himself.
As he walked over to inspect some fir trees with broken branches, he let out a sigh. Shit. Nobody wanted a damaged tree.
So he called to another employee who’d just entered his line of sight. “Tyler!”
Tyler Fleet, a senior at Destiny High who did seasonal work for Adam on weekends, looked up with a start.
“What the hell happened to these trees?”
Tyler swallowed visibly. “Uh . . . what trees?”
For God’s sake. Adam’s jaw clenched tighter. Then he pointed. “The ones with the broken branches!”
“Um . . . I don’t know.” He swallowed again—by which point Adam realized Tyler was the wrong guy to be yelling at; he probably hadn’t even been here when they were delivered.
“All right—never mind,” Adam muttered. And when Tyler just stood there, like a deer in headlights, Adam finally shooed him away. “Go back to whatever you were doing.”
As Tyler wandered off, Adam blew out his breath, then tried to calm down. So much for being nicer. But the conversation with Sue Ann about his divorce still weighed on him. Maybe he didn’t like being reminded of his broken marriage, or having it pointed out that it still bothered him so much.
So he couldn’t help feeling a little mad at her.
Of course, at the same time, he kind of wanted to be kissing her again—those deep, rhythmic kisses that ran all through him, slow and potent. He’d never been a guy who liked to rush things when it came to sex, and kissing—simple as it was—had always been one of his favorite things.
Naturally, though, that led to thoughts of the other things they’d done together, the activities that went far beyond kissing. The way she’d parted her legs for him to taste her. And—mmm, God—the way she’d knelt before him and returned the favor. He hadn’t seen that coming, and the mere memory had him getting hard again.
But you might as well forget all about it because you aren’t gonna be kissing her anymore, or doing any of those other things with her, either.
