Grounded for Christmas

by Savannah J. Frierson

  “Do you not want me to follow you?” Mary asked, then she cringed, looking sheepish and a little defensive. “Of course you don’t. Why would I even—?”

  He took her free hand and squeezed. “I didn’t want you to think I was leaving you behind.”

  “Oh.”

  He stepped closer to her, well aware they were creating a hindrance in the concourse’s flow of traffic, but he didn’t care. “I’m glad you’re with me. Better than being stranded alone, right?”

  “Hmm.”

  The sound was full of humor and doubt, her expression wary. He smiled and squeezed her hand again, choosing to focus on the humor and tackle her doubt later. “Hold my hand? You’ll keep me from running off without you.”

  “I’ll slow you down. Just tell me where you’re going.”

  Sometimes, she was too pragmatic. “I need to slow down. Right now, I’m in a hurry to go nowhere.”

  “You have a destination. The rental cars. Just tell me and I’ll meet you.”

  She was right, but she wasn’t. “It’s best if we get there together so you can be on the reservation.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s more believable to call you my domestic partner that way.”

  Chapter 3

  “It’s so unfortunate you guys have to be stuck here,” the car rental agent said with a tsk, but her eyes kept flicking from her screen to where Joseph stood off to the side, the phone at his ear again. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, his eyes focused on a point only he could see, his pilot’s hat tucked securely under the arm of the hand holding his phone.

  “But if I had him to keep me warm at night, I don’t think I’d be complaining too much!”

  Mary, very glad she was too dark for her blush to be visible, gave a strangled laugh in agreement. His arms had been very nice when she’d seen and felt them last, lean and muscular and deliberate. There had been nothing tentative or unsure about the way he’d held her, to the point she’d convinced herself he’d mean their embraces during the day and not just under the cover of night. And now, because their flight was canceled and the Houston airport was closed through at least tomorrow, she’d have to endure two of those nights with him instead of just one.

  How lucky for her.

  “Oh, my goodness, that was so inappropriate of me,” the agent said, her whispered apology full of embarrassment, yet sincerity. “I’m so sorry!”

  “It’s fine,” Mary said, hoping her voice sounded neutral and not too wry. She was supposed to be Joseph’s domestic partner, after all, so his company wouldn’t have to pay for an extra driver. Although, weren’t airlines rolling in profits?

  Whatever.

  “You two don’t live together?” the ticketing agent asked, looking at the address on her license and comparing it to Joseph’s profile. They lived on opposite ends of the east coast: she in Boston and he in Fort Lauderdale.

  “I’m based in Florida for the job,” Joseph said, coming back up to the desk. He put his arm around Mary’s waist and she let him, allowing her body curve into his to sell the yarn he was spinning. “But we just got off a flight from Boston that was diverted here. I’m up there quite frequently, and it just made sense to leave together from there than to meet up in Houston, maximize our time together. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

  Her mind snagged on the endearment. She liked the way his voice sounded around the word and let herself relish in the flush of pleasure at being called that again. He’d whispered it into her ear and against her jaw with so many of the thrusts he’d made that night five years ago.

  “Mmm.”

  His lips were soft when they pressed against her temple. She closed her eyes to feel the full impact of the contact. The nuzzle he gave her before drawing away made her melt into him. He held her as securely as he’d held his cap moments before, as patiently as he’d done on that flight from hell. He was so warm and solid, smelled so, so good too. If only this “domestic partnership” were a real thing. But she’d learned five years ago that he knew how to turn on and off that charm. It wasn’t his fault her ass was so thirsty for affection that she’d lap it up like a kitten with a bowl of milk. This didn’t mean anything beyond the moment.

  “She’s eating it up,” Joseph whispered in her ear.

  “You do a good job of looking like you like me like that.”

  His response took some time to come; but when it did, his voice wasn’t as warm. “Right. Same to you.”

  She shuddered and almost tightened her scarf around her collar. Blessedly, the agent was printing out their receipt and handing him the keys, so they would be going outside anyway.

  “Happy Holidays!” the car rental agent said. “And good luck!”

  They returned the holiday well-wishes and went to their vehicle. The SUV was such a behemoth that Joseph had to give her a boost into the cab. After he put their bags inside, he hopped in behind the steering wheel and closed the door. Once he turned on the vehicle, they sat there for a moment in silence. Heat from the vents filled the interior. The automatic running headlights spotlighted the car in front of them. His cell phone’s ringing pierced the stillness between them, and he answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

  “Hey, man. You got something?”

  Mary perked up a little when she heard her brother’s voice come through the line, but she decided to remain silent. No need to fan the gossip flames any higher than they probably were.

  “Yeah! Old buddy of mine has a cottage up by Lake Norman you can use. It’s a homestay rental, so everything should be clean and ready for use. Said you’re welcome to anything in the fridge because they have it stocked with basics every two weeks.”

  “Does it have a generator? Or a fireplace just in case the electricity goes out?” Joseph asked.

  “Now, I didn’t ask all that,” Deon said, sounding a little exasperated, but she didn’t know if it were at Joseph for asking or for himself for not asking. “Either way, I’ll text you his number.”

  “Thanks, man. And I’m happy to pay—”

  “He said not to worry about it. In fact, he’s fuckin’ tickled. ‘It’s Christmas and Mary and Joseph have no room at an inn!’”

  “Ha-ha,” Joseph said dryly, and Mary also rolled her eyes. She hadn’t realized that coincidence until right then, but goodness, how corny. This was nothing like that. She wasn’t a vessel for humanity’s savior, that was for damn sure.

  “At least there’s not gonna be a virgin birth, since you made sure that wasn’t possible—”

  “Deon—”

  “Then again, do born-again virgins count?”

  Joseph rolled his eyes. “Later, Deon.”

  He ended the call and Mary could breathe again. Damn, but Deon could be a fucking asshole.

  “He’s such a fucking asshole sometimes,” Joseph muttered.

  Mary smothered a smile and nodded. “Yep.”

  He started to say something else, but the phone vibrated in his hand, indicating an incoming text. After some exchanges of texts, a GPS app opened on his phone and Joseph handed the device to her.

  “Mind navigating?”

  Mary shook her head. “Least I could do. Thanks. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck in that terminal for God knows how long.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “So no longer annoyed I bummed a ride on your flight?”

  Her smile faded a little at the reminder of her earlier behavior. She didn’t apologize for it because she wasn’t sorry, and a large part of her was still sore at how things had gone down after their one night together. Nevertheless, Joseph had been kind to her the entire trip so far. “Right now, no annoyance at you here.”

  He nodded. “We’ll start with that, then.”

  They drove for an hour and mostly in silence, letting only the music from Joseph’s holiday playlist fill the car. She wished she weren’t so charmed he had one, but she was. Sometimes, Joseph would sing along to a track, and she would let his voice wrap around her. It was s
o resonant and warm, pleasant no matter what he did with it, and she prayed for fortitude that she wouldn’t fall for it again. When one knew better, one did better. She didn’t need to be made a fool for a second time.

  Eventually, they pulled up to a small structure on the edge of a lake. Because it was well dark with no moon and no floodlights shone around the home, Mary couldn’t get a good look at the exterior beyond the fact it was shaped a little like a barn or a shed. She eyed it with dismay, careful not to look at Joseph, who blew out a heavy breath.

  “I should’ve asked for pictures,” he mumbled, making Mary laugh.

  “If he rents it out as a homestay, wouldn’t it be on one of those websites?”

  Joseph shrugged. “Maybe it’s a more informal thing. But it’s a warm place to stay rent-free. I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.”

  He insisted she stay in the vehicle while he checked out the premises, wanting her to stay warm. He returned a few minutes later, tapping on her window. She rolled it down.

  “So, there’s food in the pantry and in the refrigerator as promised, but really just basic staples. We can try for a grocery store and see if they’ll have anything; but considering Charlotte’s gonna get what Houston’s getting now in a few days, there may not be much food.”

  “And keeping warm if the power goes out?”

  He shook his head. “No fireplace and I didn’t see a generator. We’ll have to get a propane heater.”

  “And the propane,” Mary added. She did the math. If they bought that, it was the same as booking a room for two nights, so six of one, half a dozen of the other to her.

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, can I take a look? At least put my things inside?

  He glanced off to the side, his feet shuffling in the dirt drive. “Um, there’s also only one bedroom and one bed.”

  She nodded slowly. “Are you asking me to sleep on the couch?”

  His head popped up. “What?”

  She shrugged and faced the dashboard, unable to say the next while looking at him. “The last time we shared a bed, it didn’t go well—”

  “I thought it went very well,” he said, his voice soft, but it might as well have been a bellow the way his words affected her. “It was the morning after that wasn’t so great. Or really, the afternoon.”

  She frowned. “The afternoon?”

  “You were on a plane instead of with me. In that bed.”

  Chapter 4

  Joseph was just as big of an asshole as Mary’s brother—more so, in fact. Why had he said such a thing to her? The way she’d shuttered down after that comment had Joseph mentally kicking himself from the moment they’d put her things into the house until the moment they’d returned with their purchases from the various not-so-nearby stores that were still stocked and open.

  Because Mary was brilliant, she’d shopped ahead online for the items they’d gotten at the home improvement store, making sure their propane heater and their two tanks of propane tanks would be there and waiting instead of risking arrival and all and sundry were gone. The grocery store didn’t have a pickup option, but at least most of the items they’d wanted or needed were still around. Mary had said many were probably waiting until the last possible moment, hoping the storm would shift course and they wouldn’t have to worry about ice and sleet and maybe snow.

  “You wouldn’t wait, though,” Joseph had said. “You like to plan.”

  “I don’t like to be surprised,” she’d corrected. “I like that less than planning.”

  She’d been as silent on the trip from the store as she’d been to it; yet now, she couldn’t avoid speaking to him. They had to discuss sleeping arrangements.

  The bed, admittedly, was large enough for them to share and never touch. However, if she was prone next to him on the bed, all he’d want to do was touch her, and he’d get no rest. In fact, he wanted to touch her now, looking at her all soft in her blue cashmere turtleneck, her wool slacks, and her feet adorned with Christmas elf socks. She kept her cropped hair longer than she used to, more like an inch instead of shaved close to her scalp, and he wanted to sink his hands into the soft curls. But Deon’s wife, Layla, had warned him against touching a Black woman’s hair without permission, which was a good rule of thumb in general. No one should touch anyone without their permission.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He couldn’t bear to hear her no.

  At least she’d agreed to the tabletop Christmas tree he’d bought from the home improvement store. Her little smile at it had filled him with the warmth of the tropics. It was the same smile she’d given him when she’d started to thaw around him during the wedding weekend. Maybe she was thawing for him once again, which meant she’d talk to him eventually.

  For a start.

  Joseph carried the bulk of the conversation during their pizza dinner, which was expected. Mary was still feeling him out, although he wished she would do that with her hands and not just her eyes. He remembered those hands. They were capable—soft and strong when they needed to be, insistent and soothing, full of pleasure and just the right amount of pain. He could still feel her scoring his back with her nails as she came underneath him, her hands squeezing his sides and shoulders as she clutched him during her climax. He had kissed those hands in the aftermath, drifted his nose along the knuckles and nuzzled the digits as she cuddled close and fell into a well-earned slumber.

  But he kept his composure and the topics to safe ones like turbulent flights and overly aggressive and inebriated passengers attempting to rush the cockpit. However, he noticed the more he spoke, the more relaxed she became, bringing out the Mary he’d gotten to know during Deon and Layla’s wedding weekend instead of the frosty stranger she’d been presenting thus far.

  Except for those terrifying moments of flying when she’d been so close, but he’d never, ever count those.

  A holiday movie streamed from the media player connected to the television but neither of them was watching it. The plot was hackneyed and acting wasn’t good enough to compensate for it. Besides, Joseph wanted to talk about something not as safe as emergency landings, and his mouth ran away from him before he could get a good grasp on the reins.

  “What happened that morning?”

  He watched her body go absolutely still even though she hadn’t been moving, not even an energy-expelling bounce of her knees. Her lungs stopped working, and he imagined seeing her brain grind to a halt. He hadn’t needed to clarify what morning he’d meant, as they’d only shared the one. Joseph didn’t think they could share another without squaring that one away first.

  Even if they weren’t sharing a bed along with it.

  They weren’t even sharing the couch currently. She curled in an overstuffed easy chair caddy-corner to the couch he was sitting on, looking like she were bundled in a foxhole out in the cold despite the thermostat reading a comfortable seventy-three degrees. He didn’t move from his own position, which projected a false sense of ease with his long legs propped on the coffee table and his hands loose in his lap. They’d both changed into loungewear before eating dinner, needing to shed the hell of a day they’d had off of them. But their tension had stuck around, tensing and slackening at moments, but it was tight as a drum now.

  All because of one question.

  “Did my breath stink too much and you couldn’t bear being in my presence?” Joseph asked, going for levity even if a part of him was serious. Lord only knew what morning breath smelled like after a wedding reception.

  “No,” she said after a moment and something inside him unclenched. She didn’t look at him, her eyes transfixed on the obligatory magical snow scene that was now commencing on the television screen. He waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. However, her mouth was no longer still, her lips pressing together as if she didn’t want to release the words building up inside her.

  “You can be honest with me,” Joseph said, trying to encourage her. He wanted to shut off the television. But
he suspected if he did that, Mary would shut down too.

  Her shoulders relaxed a little but her eyes remained transfixed to the screen. “I enjoyed our night, Joseph.”

  Something else unclenched in him, yet not fully because the unspoken “but” echoed throughout her pronouncement. He remained in his relaxed position even though his muscles were coiled under his skin. He wanted to go to her, sink to his knees and promise that whatever he’d done to make her run away he’d never do again.

  That thought made him sit up. Was he really that sprung over Mary after one night? He hadn’t lived like a monk in the five years that had passed, had even been in “relationships” for a few months here and there. The nature of his job made long-term romances impractical, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t ask the flight attendants if her name was on the manifest whenever he had a route to or from Boston. It’d gotten so bad one of his regular attendants would tell him no before he could even ask.

  Was it Mary he’d been missing, or a chance? A goodbye? A nice, neat bow on a night that didn’t have to go beyond those few hours and those four walls?

  “My brother and his friends found out about it and you were angry, so I left.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought it would be best.”

  “For me?”

  “For me too,” Mary said, huffing out a sardonic laugh. “I was tripping and I didn’t need to fall all over you.”

  “I would’ve caught you,” Joseph said, his voice so low the bells and cheers from the television almost drowned him out. But Mary heard him, for she finally looked at him with wide, hesitant eyes that seemed to be filling with hope. He smiled crookedly, the feelings inside him now unfurling with vigor. His night with Mary had changed him irrevocably, an experience he’d been trying to recapture since the moment he’d returned to that empty hotel room all those years ago.