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Christmas Overnighted

Page 8

by Lara Norman


  “It looks like my day just got a whole lot brighter,” he said as he pulled out of the parking lot, and she laughed.

  Nineteen

  Cora’s power was still out. She ended up being the one to pack a bag, and she had to use a flashlight to do so. She wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen between them, but she made a point of bringing more than she thought she would need, just in case. Warren laughed at the overstuffed suitcase when she wheeled it out to the living room where he was waiting.

  “What in the world did you pack, Cora?”

  “I like to be prepared,” was all she would say.

  She wasn't going to tell him she’d packed a few of her best pieces of lingerie.

  He took the suitcase to his car and started it up so the heater would get to work while Cora locked up.

  “I called the power company and asked them to let me know when the power was back on,” she said as she got in the car. “I sure wish I could have gone ahead and decorated for Christmas.”

  “I’m just impressed that you’re having a change of heart about the holidays. There’s something special about using this time of year to slow down and spend time with the ones you love.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to start a new tradition, then. With the one . . . I love,” she mumbled. Though she wanted to avoid his gaze and keep hers focused out the window, she faced him, instead.

  Warren’s head whipped around to hers. He stared at her for a second before forcefully gluing his eyes back to the road. “Did you say with the one you love?”

  “Maybe.”

  He couldn't believe it. He’d been fighting feelings of love for her, unsure and afraid of how she felt in return. He was terrified of having his heart broken again, and he almost hadn't dared to hope. Now here Cora was, telling him unceremoniously that she loved him.

  “I don’t know what to say to that, Cora. Don't think I don’t have any feelings for you in return, but when I say it to you, I want it to be more special than sitting in my car in a snowstorm trying desperately to safely navigate the streets to my house.”

  He glanced quickly at her again and saw that she was grinning at him. “Okay,” she said simply.

  He tried not to groan. Even though the snow plow had been through recently, the streets were barely illuminated, making it slow going at best. Warren was unwilling to put them in a ditch somewhere simply because he found himself in a hurry to get to his house so he could take off Cora’s sweater and jeans and finally see what she looked like underneath. He knew that dinner would come first, but he was looking forward to being with Cora more intimately than that. The anticipation was making him jumpy.

  Cora was nervous about letting him into her life, but she wasn't nervous about her decision to let him have her body. She was ready, and more than that, she was happy to move forward. She was just worried that he’d spend a few weeks with her and find that she was unyielding and overbearing, or whatever it was that sent all other men running for cover. She also knew that she couldn't be anybody but herself. The small changes she’d made that month involved her bitterness toward her parents and what that meant for the holidays and opening up to people, not changing who she was as a person. Maybe she was desperately afraid that Warren wouldn't like her after he spent more than a few hours in her company. She supposed the next few days would be the ultimate test; she only hoped her heart

  remained intact when the new year came around.

  Warren pulled up to a modest colonial house. The siding was white, the roof gray, and the front door black. She could almost picture it in the spring without the snow, fresh buds on the tree in the back corner of the yard. There was a small detached garage, and Warren got out to unlock it and open it before pulling the car in. He insisted on getting Cora’s suitcase, and she waited in the middle of the snowfall for him to close and lock the garage. The snow wasn't exactly flaky as much as it was blobs, and she almost couldn't keep her eyes open. Warren held her hand with his free one as he led her down the paved walkway to the back of the house. When he let them in, the atmosphere of the house almost overwhelmed her.

  Cora and Warren took their outerwear off and left it all by the back door. She ventured further inside, noting that the kitchen was mostly white with dark granite countertops. The appliances were stainless, and large windows lined the back wall, letting in the muted light and the view of the backyard covered in snow. Cora got a sense of his taste as she looked at the tidy space. There were a few bits of mail on the counter and a basket of odds and ends, but otherwise, it was clean. She could see his living room through the open doorway and noted that he had logs laid at the ready in the fireplace. She wanted to cuddle up with him in front of it and spend hours talking and, of course, other things. She turned to him with the words to suggest exactly that on her lips and found him directly behind her. Her body bumped into his, and his arms went around her in a near-crushing hug. She sucked in a breath at the hunger in his gaze right before he pressed his mouth to hers. He took his time, stroking her tongue with his and pressing a hand to the small of her back. She made a noise in the back of her throat that spurred him on, and he backed her up to the wall and molded himself to her. Their bodies fit so perfectly, he felt like surely they were made to be together.

  He had to drag his mouth away from her to speak. “You need to tell me if you want to

  eat dinner now, or if you want me to spread you out on my bed and devour you.” He nipped at the skin along the side of her neck, leaving marks on the delicate skin. She whimpered, incredibly aroused.

  “Warren.” It was the best she could choke out at that moment, other than shifting her hips into his groin and tilting her head to give him better access.

  “If you want to take this slow, you’d better say so now.” He figured he’d better give her one last chance to answer him, though he actually assumed she would want the slow route that included dinner and a touch of romance first. With that bit of knowledge in mind, he stepped back from her, keeping his hands on her upper arms so he could hold her steady.

  Her right hand went to her heart, feeling how fast it beat in its need for him. Her other hand went to his face, positive that she would discover upon touching him that he was an apparition. Instead, she felt a strong jaw covered in several days’ worth of stubble. He was real. He was right in front of her, and he was offering her everything she wanted. She knew that his offer had been dinner or sex, but she felt deep inside her that he would offer her the world without hesitation.

  “I could eat.” It was the only thing she could think to say.

  He watched her, saw the tic in her cheek and the light of lust in her eyes. He understood her sincerity, even though her body said something opposite of the flippant words. “I can cook us something easy.”

  “That would be lovely.” She didn't mean to fall into the formal persona she carried around with her, but it was a defense mechanism that she couldn't avoid when she was nervous.

  “You can sit at the kitchen island and I’ll pour you a glass of wine. I’m pretty sure I have some pasta in the pantry.”

  She smiled at him, and it showed all the way to her eyes. She was ready to settle in and feel at home with him. “I’d love a tour of your house after we eat.”

  “Oh, absolutely. I didn’t realize it until now, but I haven't even brought your suitcase past the mudroom.” Usually, he had more manners than he’d shown her so far, but he had no regrets after the kiss they’d shared.

  She sat and watched him rummage in the refrigerator and the cupboards. He pulled out fettuccine noodles and a bag of frozen peas, a thick slab of ham, and butter and cream. She was pleased that he knew his way around at least a simple meal and watched as he made a sauce and stirred the peas and the ham he’d cubed into it. It would pair nicely with the crisp white wine he’d poured, and soon he was seated next to her for an informal supper.

  “This is nice,” she murmured as he handed her a small tub of shredded parmesan. “I’m a sucker for p
asta.”

  “I noticed that’s what you chose when we had dinner at the seafood restaurant.”

  “Mm.” She only made a small sound of agreement as she ate. He’d done a good job, and she suddenly realized how hungry she was. It was likely she’d forgotten to eat lunch again in her hurry to finish what she absolutely had to have completed in order to take the time off to be with Warren. She honestly couldn't remember if she had taken the time to eat anything, which was generally the hint that she hadn't. Her last meal had been the coffee and bagel she’d gotten when he drove her to the office.

  “Did you get that account finished, the one you had to make changes to?”

  “I did.” She took a sip of wine and wiped her mouth. “I had Andy help me with what she could. Julia went home to be with her grown kids. They come to visit often, as many holidays as they can manage.”

  “That’s nice of them. Will they stay through New Year’s?” He turned to face her as he swirled his wine before having a drink of it.

  “They’ll stay until the day after Hanukkah. They celebrated Rosh Hashanah in September, which is basically the Jewish new year. It’s a completely different type of holiday, and her children don’t do anything special for December thirty-first. Julia has been known to stay up on the last day of December to ring in a new calendar year.”

  He was staring at her with an open mouth and a quirked eyebrow. “How do you know anything about Rosh Hashanah?”

  “Oh, Julia has taught me all about Judaism.” Cora waved a hand through the air. “I don’t always remember the finer points, but as her boss, I keep track of the holidays that require her to practice Shabbat.”

  “And what is that?” Warren was thoroughly intrigued that Cora had learned about an entire religion for her coworker’s benefit.

  “It’s the times where no work of any nature is allowed. On Saturdays and other high holy days, like the days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.”

  She spoke so casually about it all, but he knew nothing about it outside of a few of the holiday names he’d seen on the calendar. “What is Yom Kippur?” His dinner was mostly forgotten as he listened to her talk.

  “Oh, their most important holy day.” She set her fork down and faced him. “See, Rosh Hashanah is the day that God finished creating the world. It’s the day he opens the book of life, so to speak. They remember those they’ve lost by lighting candles in their memory, and they celebrate with big meals and prayers. God closes that book at the end of Yom Kippur for the rest of the year, so in order to have a blessed year they attend five prayers at their synagogue and are forbidden to lift a finger. There’s no eating or drinking, no bathing, no sex, and just focusing on forgiveness and repentance so that God will write favorably in the book before it's closed. At least, that’s how she described it to me.”

  “Wow.” He didn't know what else to say. She was engaging when she spoke, and he could see that she was invested in Julia as a person and not simply an employee.

  “There’s so much to remember, like observing Shabbat starting at sundown, separate beds, and not turning on lights because that’s considered work. I’d be horrible at observing properly, like mixing milk and meat. They have separate sets of dishes and every- thing. I just know I’d screw that one up since I love cheeseburgers.”

  “Um, okay?” He didn’t know what light switches and separate beds had to do with Judaism.

  She laughed. “Sorry. I just find it a fascinating religion.”

  “That’s okay, it makes for interesting conversation.”

  “Yeah, it probably doesn’t.” She laughed again, especially since he didn't deny it.

  “No worries. I could listen to you talk about anything at all for days.”

  She smiled into her wine glass and leaned her shoulder against his. If she hadn't already fallen in love with him, he would have sealed it just then.

  Twenty

  Cora tried to do the dishes, but Warren wouldn't let her. She wandered into the living room instead, carrying her glass of wine while she listened to the sounds of Warren loading the dishwasher. There was a decent sized tree in the corner with white lights strung on it and a slew of various ornaments, and a garland above the fireplace. That garland drew her eye to the pictures on the wood beam mantel that had to be Warren’s parents. They looked very much like they loved each other, and Cora wondered what that was like. She could see how Warren took after Mr. Kline with the deep tan and striking blue eyes. Mrs. Kline had blonde hair, and she was a woman with a bright smile that reached her eyes.

  “My parents, Roberta and David,” he said as he came up behind her.

  She set her wine glass on the mantel and picked up a black-framed picture of the three of them smiling out at the photographer. The ocean was huge behind them and felt overwhelming to her.

  “Before we moved.”

  She figured as much, based on the age he looked in the picture. “You look young.”

  “I was nineteen. That was shortly before Heather’s death. I haven't been back to the beach since then. I do enjoy the water here, I suppose because it’s the exact opposite of the ocean back home.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “It’s something I’ve grown used to dealing with for the most part.”

  “It’s sad that you’ve had to come to terms with the death of someone so close to you, and that it had to happen at such a young age.”

  “I can’t pretend it didn't affect me, but I’ve grown from it and learned about myself. I do have lingering issues in some areas, such as being terrified the worst had happened when you didn't show up to work.” He kissed her ear and she set the frame back on the mantel. It was time to ask him her questions and hope he allayed her fears.

  “Did you ever . . . did it make you do anything you normally wouldn't, other than the fact that you moved across the country?”

  “What do you mean by that? I wouldn't normally fall into a depression, but I did. I wouldn't normally have dropped out of school, but I did. I wouldn't normally have spent my days not eating or showering or speaking to anyone, but I did. I didn't get out of bed unless it was an absolute necessity. But, Cora, I was only nineteen. I didn't know how to handle grief. I was just a kid.”

  She turned to look him in the eyes. “None of those things are what I was referring to. I suppose I’m afraid of hurting your feelings by asking if you dabbled in drugs or if you turned to alcohol to cope. If I’m going to be involved with you, and I would love to think that I am, then I want to be prepared. If you have any issues that might rear up later in life for whatever reason, I want to know now so I can decide what to do.”

  “If you’re looking for guarantees in life and love, you’re not going to find them. I learned that lesson the hardest way possible.” His expression wasn't just confused, it had turned tragic.

  She bit her lip, thinking that she didn't want to answer in a way that would come across harshly. “I understand that part. I just want to know, yes or no, if you were an addict?”

  He frowned deeply and took a step back. “No. Why?” She was pissed at herself for rubbing salt in old wounds when all she wanted was to commit herself to him completely. Her overthinking brain was going to get her in trouble.

  “I’m a planner.” She sighed, afraid she’d offended him after all. She tried her best

  to explain her thoughts. “You might have noticed that I need to have contingency plans for my contingency plans. I just want to be prepared, I guess. If you had struggled with drugs and might relapse in years to come, I would want to know so I wouldn't be blind- sided.” Cora moved forward to close the gap he’d created. “I was sleepless the other night after we went to dinner and you opened up to me about Heather. I was worried over more than I needed to be and fretting over what it all meant. I’ve since come to realize that none of it would have changed my mind about you. I've never felt more comfortable with someone before. I don’t feel like I have to hide my neuroses because you won’t judge me.”
<
br />   “And here I was worried you’d decided to judge me.”

  She smiled and rested a hand on his chest. The pattern of his sweater was coarse under her fingertips, so she moved them up to his jaw. The prickle of his stubble sent a wave of need through her. She wanted to feel it all over her skin. “Not judging, just overly efficient, I suppose. Too worried about lining up my ducks and all that.” She kissed his jaw lightly. “I can’t get you out of my mind, Warren Kline.”

  “That makes two of us, Cora.” He angled his head to catch her lips in a slow kiss, seducing her with his mouth and tongue in a way that she eagerly welcomed.

  When he released her, she felt her head go around in a dizzy spin. “I think you owe me that tour, now.”

  His grin was what she was looking for. She’d spent enough time on heavier conversation that she wanted to move back to something light.

  “Let me get your suitcase and I’ll take you upstairs to show you around.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He came back quickly, and she could admit to herself that she loved watching his ass in his jeans as he climbed the stairs.

  “Here’s the guest bedroom. It’s not very fancy, just a bed and a dresser. My parents have used it a few times when they visit, but otherwise, it collects dust.”

  She glanced in the open door at the blank room with nothing on the walls and just plain blinds on the windows. “As long as you don’t expect me to stay in here.”

  He chuckled. “Not at all.”

  They moved further down the hall. “Here’s the bathroom. I try to keep it clean, but I don't use this one very often.”

  She glanced in at the black and white subway tiles and the custom pedestal sink. “It’s nice to look at.”

  “I remodeled it a bit when I moved in. Here’s my room,” he continued as he took a few steps down the hall.

 

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