Stranded for Christmas

by Noelle Adams

  “You loved your dad, and he betrayed your trust. You gave your body to an asshole one night, and he treated you and his own son like you meant nothing. You’ve learned that the only person who you can really depend on is yourself.”

  She shifted her head so she could look up on him. “I trust my sisters.”

  “Yes. And your sisters. But no one else. Not really.”

  She thought about that for a long time. “I trust you.”

  “Do you?” The words weren’t an accusation. They were a genuine question and a very gentle one.

  “Yes. I meant what I said earlier. That there’s never been anyone who I want to work with as much as you. That wouldn’t be true if I didn’t trust you.”

  “You trust me as a partner. Do you trust me as a man?” His amber eyes were searching but still gentle, as if he were treading very carefully.

  She swallowed. “I... I think so.”

  “I’m not blaming you, Laura. I have a hard time trusting people too. Why do you think I’ve never been married or even had a serious relationship? It’s not because I’m some secret romantic.”

  She smiled, briefly rubbing her cheek against his heart. “You are a secret romantic.”

  “Maybe. But I have trust issues too, just like you do. My family taught me you always had to be strong and in control and never, ever vulnerable.”

  Laura asked softly, “How did they do that?”

  He let out a thick sigh and slouched more on the couch. “Just in... small ways.” After a pause, he continued, “On Christmas Day when I was six, my dad drank too much at dinner. He wasn’t as bad as my brother about drinking and getting mean, but he did it occasionally. Anyway, he drank too much, and then he took it out on my mom. He never hit her or anything. He was just... mean. I was six. I didn’t really know what was happening, but I knew she was upset. So I went into the kitchen after we ate where she was washing the dishes.”

  When he stopped talking, Laura lifted a hand to rub his chest. “What happened, Russ?”

  He gave a faint shrug. “She was crying. Not really crying. Just kind of shaking as she stood over the sink. I’d never seen her crying before, and it terrified me, so I started to cry too.”

  Laura was nervous. Way too nervous for a normal conversation as she waited to hear the end of the story. There was something strained, pained, in Russ’s too-calm voice.

  “Tell me what happened next.” Her hand lifted, and she rubbed the bristles on his jaw with her thumb.

  “My dad came in and saw me crying. I was bawling, so fortunately he didn’t even notice my mom. He hauled me up to my bedroom and spanked me and told me...” He had to clear his throat. He wasn’t meeting her eyes. “He told me I wasn’t a baby anymore. Only babies cry. I was to get control of myself and not let him see me act like that again.”

  “Oh my God, Russ. Oh my God.” She was horrified by the story. She took his face in both her hands and held it.

  He cleared his throat again. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. When I compare my childhood to what other kids have to go through, it’s really nothing. He was half-drunk, and he wasn’t always like that. But he was always... stoic. You had to work hard. You could never let anyone see you be weak. I was able to go to college and change my lifestyle and try to make something of myself, but I’m not sure I ever really escaped from that lesson.”

  “He never should have done that to a six-year-old boy.”

  Not just any six-year-old boy. Russ at six years old. Her heart ached for him.

  Tommy was six right now. It was wrenching to think about someone treating him that way.

  “I know. We all have our unique damage, and I guess that’s part of mine.” Russ smiled at her. “I didn’t tell that story to get sympathy. I told it so you’d know that we’re not that different. It’s hard for me to be vulnerable and trust people too.”

  “So then why isn’t this... us... why isn’t it hard for you?”

  “Because I’ve had a long time to wrap my mind around it.”

  “How long?”

  He gave a faint shrug.

  “How long?” she demanded.

  “I don’t even know. I’ve been attracted to you since I started working for Holiday Acres, if that’s what you want to know.”

  She sat up straight, pulling out of his arm. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I know you didn’t.” He was giving her that adorably dry Russ smile. “That’s what I’m trying to say. It took me a long time to work my mind around the idea that it was even... okay for me to be attracted to you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? I’m fourteen years older than you. I knew you as a little girl, remember? You think I didn’t feel like a total sleaze for imagining you naked way too often?”

  “Oh.” She blinked and thought for a minute. “I didn’t think about that.”

  “I did. I thought about it over and over again, every time I wanted to touch you. For at least two years I tried to talk myself out of it, telling myself it was wrong. It didn’t work.”

  “You didn’t really know me when I was a kid. You only showed up occasionally, and we never even had a conversation until I was almost out of high school.”

  “Yeah.” He was smiling again, and he put his arm around her once more, pulling her body against his.

  She relaxed, putting one hand on his firm belly. “Do you remember what we talked about?”

  “Of course I remember. You asked me if I ever laughed.”

  “What did you think about me then?”

  “I wasn’t nursing secret fantasies about taking you to bed back then, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

  “It’s not!”

  “Mostly, I was disturbed by the conversation, by the question. I’d never thought about it before, but you were right. I almost never laughed.” He sighed. “The truth is, I learned to be stoic from my dad. I never learned to laugh until I came to work at Holiday Acres.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I’m happier here than I’ve ever been before. And even if this... this doesn’t work out, I’ll still have more in my life than I ever had before. And a lot of that is thanks to you.”

  She pulled out of his arm and turned to face him, feeling far too much to easily contain. She stared at him for a minute. Then made a little whimpering sound and wrapped her arms around him.

  He hugged her back. Tightly.

  Very tightly.

  She could feel emotion shuddering in him, the way it was shuddering in her.

  They hugged for a long time without speaking.

  Then he finally said against her shoulder, “All this to say that you don’t have to feel any pressure about deciding what’s best for you. I’ll be all right, no matter what you decide. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  She felt like crying, which was ridiculous.

  She had no idea how Russ was doing this to her.

  She felt like she should say something, but she didn’t know what to say. So she just pulled her head back and gave him a wobbly smile.

  He kissed her then. Softly at first.

  But as soon as his lips pressed against hers, she felt a surge of hunger the likes of which she’d never experienced before.

  It was so much more than physical.

  She slid her hands up to his hair, tangling her fingers in it so she could get a grip on him. Then she parted her lips and slid her tongue into his mouth.

  He responded immediately. Enthusiastically.

  He put his hands on the small of her back and eased her body closer to his as their tongues dueled and danced. After a minute, he pulled her over into his lap so she was straddling his hips, and that was even better. She could feel him everywhere. In her mouth. Between her legs. Against her chest. His hands running up and down her back.

  A deep, throbbing ache had begun between her thighs, and it was getting stronger by the second.

  His hands moved down to cup her bottom, and she moaned into his mouth.

  H
e was hard now. She could feel his arousal, the hard bulge in his pants.

  This was Russ. Touching her this way. Wanting her this way.

  So openly eager he made a throaty moan in the back of his throat.

  She’d never dreamed she would ever see him this way.

  She’d never dreamed she would feel this way. About him. Or anyone else.

  She pulled his robe open so she could get her hands beneath it to feel his skin.

  She needed to touch him. She needed it.

  Like she couldn’t breathe if she didn’t.

  “Oh fuck, baby,” he muttered, squeezing her butt as she ground against him and dragged her fingernails over the tight bare skin she’d finally reached on his back. “You’re going to kill me before this is over.”

  “Only if you don’t kill me first.” She rubbed against his erection, completely shameless.

  He moaned helplessly, dropping his head back away from the kiss.

  They both panted, tangled together on the couch.

  Finally Russ rasped, “If you still want to go slow, then we better stop this soon. I’ll kiss you as much as you want without going any further, but if you’re in my lap this way, my body is going to expect something more to happen.”

  She stared at his flushed face and hot eyes.

  She wanted more. Desperately. But he was trying to be a good guy, to give her the space she’d said she needed, and she appreciated it.

  Going slow was smarter.

  Neither one of them were good at this sort of thing.

  And she was still so scared of ruining everything she had with him.

  So she swung her leg off his lap with a pained groan, collapsing on the couch beside him. “Okay. We’ll be good.”

  “Yeah. We’ll be good.” He sounded just as strained as she felt.

  She huffed softly. “Being good isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  She reached over to squeeze his hands. “But I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

  He gave her a little smile that proved the feeling was mutual. “Good. I’m glad.”

  Six

  AFTER ANOTHER HOUR, it became obvious that they weren’t getting out of this cottage before morning.

  The wind slacked off some, but the snow continued. It would be midday tomorrow before the roads became passable again, and that was assuming the snow stopped fairly early during the night and the temperature started to rise so they didn’t have much freezing.

  Russ wasn’t worried about the snow, and he wasn’t worried about being stranded. There were plenty of supplies in this cottage for them to manage for a while even without power.

  What he was worried about was making it through the night without giving in to temptation.

  What he was worried about was keeping his hands off Laura the way he was supposed to.

  He’d thought he was a master at restraint, at holding back, at keeping his desires to himself. But his armor had been cracked, and now he was having trouble keeping the tidal wave of need and desire at bay.

  At nine o’clock in the evening, it was dark in the cottage, dark in the world. The only light came from the fireplace, although they’d found a couple of flashlights to use when they moved around the rest of the cottage.

  They’d finished the bottle of wine, and Laura was stretched out on the couch with her head in Russ’s lap.

  He wasn’t even sure how they’d gotten into that position, but he was doing his best to keep control of his body so he wouldn’t have to ask her to move.

  He stroked her soft hair, the skin of her cheek. They hadn’t spoken in several minutes—not since Laura had called to check in on Tommy one more time before bedtime—but she wasn’t asleep. Her eyes were open, focused on the fire.

  He’d never dreamed of seeing her so unguarded.

  That wasn’t true. He’d dreamed of it. He just hadn’t believed it would ever actually happen.

  “This doesn’t feel like the real world, does it?”

  Russ blinked at Laura’s unexpected question. “I don’t know.”

  “It feels... different. Cut off. Not real.”

  “It is real. Just because it’s snowing outside and the lights are off doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

  “I know.”

  “Why doesn’t it feel real to you?” he asked softly.

  “Because I don’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Do the normal thing. Do... what other girls do.”

  He frowned and stroked down the line of her cheekbone with his fingertips. “Why shouldn’t you do what anyone else would do?”

  “I’m not saying I shouldn’t. I’m saying I don’t. I’m saying I’ve always been... different. I’ve always felt... different. Like normal things that happen to other people are never going to happen to me. I don’t know if I can explain it. Even things I want. Like love and... and marriage. When I was younger, I’d dream of them. I’d get all excited when it looked like they might happen. But then they’d always fall apart. They’d never work out. They don’t happen to me.”

  She sighed and rolled over onto her back so she was staring up at him. “I’ve always felt different. Not better and not worse. Just different. It feels like God has it in for me—always breaking things off whenever I get close. But it’s probably more that I’m just not cut out for normal relationships. It’s not God. It’s me... always keeping it from happening. Even when I want it. Even when I think I’m trying.”

  She was being serious. Utterly serious. Her voice was hoarse with it.

  Russ had to answer it. The pressure of needing to ached in his chest.

  “Laura, nobody feels normal. Normal is a made-up construct that we all compare ourselves to. We’re all individuals, and because of that we all sometimes feel different, lonely. I feel that way all the time. Like I’m walking through life without really... living it. Like I’m watching other people take hold of what I want and can never have. I feel that way all the time.”

  She sucked in a breath and sat up, turning around so she was facing him. She reached out to take the front of his robe in both her hands, holding on to it like the grip was keeping her grounded. “You do?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “I love Tommy. I love my family. I have plenty of friends. I don’t understand why I still feel this way.”

  Russ could hardly hear past the pounding in his ears. “I don’t know. But it’s not because you’re destined to be alone all your life. I know that for sure.”

  “How do you know? Some people are.”

  “I know because the only way you’ll be alone is because you’ve chosen to be. If you don’t want to be alone, then you’ll never have to be. I’ll always be right here.”

  He saw her take a ragged breath. He saw the hitch of her shoulders, the slight parting of her lips. Her features broke slightly, and one tear slipped down her cheek. It was significant because Laura almost never cried.

  They sat together on the couch like that for a minute, staring at each other with intense emotion shuddering between them. Her hands were fisted in his robe, and his were fisted at his sides.

  Then she finally relaxed. “Thank you, Russ.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I guess we might as well go to bed early since it’s dark and there’s nothing to do.”

  “That sounds reasonable.”

  They were going slow. Laura wasn’t sure about all of this. They weren’t going to go to bed together. She’d made it very clear that would be moving too fast.

  Russ kept reminding himself of that.

  Laura had finally released his robe. She was rubbing at the fabric, and her hands on his chest felt way too good. He gently eased back and then stood up, using the excuse of going to stoke the fire.

  “You take the master bedroom,” he said, his back to her. “There’s a fireplace in there so you’ll keep warm. I’ll sleep out here on the couch.”

  “Why should you s
leep on the couch?”

  “The second bedroom doesn’t have a fireplace. It will be too cold in there.”

  “I know that. But you could sleep in the master bedroom with me.”

  His body tightened before he could stop it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Laura had gotten up, and she came over to touch his shoulder. “Just to sleep. It’s a huge bed. I don’t mind if you sleep with me, Russ.”

  “It’s not a good idea.”

  “We’re both adults. We can control ourselves.”

  He turned around to face her. “Maybe you can control yourself. But I’ve wanted you for too long. If we’re in the same bed, I can’t promise to keep my hands off you.”

  She swallowed visibly. “Oh.”

  “So I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “Okay.” She gave him a little smile. “I’ll bring out a pillow and blankets for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  She went in to make the fire in the bedroom while he put up their wineglasses and wiped down the kitchen counter. A look outside proved it had almost stopped snowing. He checked the locks on the door and closed the blinds.

  When Laura came out with the bedding, she helped him make up the couch with a spare set of sheets and extra blanket and pillow. Then she stood and looked up at him for a moment.

  “Okay,” she said at last.

  “Okay.” He had to fight the instinct to reach out for her, to pull her down onto the couch and press into her.

  “Good night.”

  “Good night.” He leaned down enough to brush his lips against hers, keeping his hands at his side by the force of his will. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay. Good night.” She was flushed and breathless when she pulled out of the kiss. Her hair was tousled, static making it fly out from its normally smooth layers.

  She stared up at him for a minute with big brown eyes. Then took a weird little breath, turned on her heel, and hurried into the bedroom.

  She left the door halfway open.

  Russ went to the bathroom and then came back out. He took off his bathrobe and lay down on the couch, pulling the covers up. He was wearing nothing but his underwear, but it was plenty warm in front of the fire this way.