by Noelle Adams
He gave her a surprised quirk of his lips. “Yeah. I’ll go with you. I’ve got to get some presents too.”
“Just make sure you get something really good for me.”
“I was thinking about maybe some cooking lessons.”
She gasped in outrage, but his teasing expression was impossible to take seriously. “Fine. Then I’m going to get you some auto-repair classes.”
“I’m great at cars!”
“Right.”
“I really am.”
“You’re still not touching mine.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, both of them munching on caramel corn and staring at the fire.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked her at last.
She blushed, since she’d actually been thinking about how amazing and adorable he was. Since she couldn’t possibly admit she’d been thinking fond thoughts about him, she said instead, “Thinking about Christmas. I used to love your family’s Christmas parties.”
“I didn’t.”
“Why not? They were always so beautiful. The house was gorgeously decorated, and everyone would dress up, and the food was delicious and everyone would gather around the piano and sing carols.” She sighed at the memory. “It felt like something out of an old movie. I just loved those parties.”
“You should have seen the flurry that went into preparations. My mom would stress about those parties for weeks beforehand. And I hated to dress up. I hated having to help clean the house and serve the food.”
“Well, that’s too bad. Those parties were really special. I looked forward to them from the time we got the invitation. It was just me and my mom most of the time, but at those parties it always felt like I was part of a…”
“A what?” His voice had changed.
She shrugged and glanced away from him. “I don’t know. Part of a community. A family. Like there were a lot of people who were all connected to me deeply.”
He was silent for a moment after she’d said it, as if he were letting the words soak in. Then, “And yet you always try to hide now.”
“I do not try to hide!” Even as she vehemently disagreed, she wasn’t entirely convinced he was wrong. “Why do you always go on about that? I do like being alone sometimes, but I want to feel connected. And…I don’t. Most of the time I just…I just don’t anymore.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she felt like an absolute idiot. It had been a casual conversation, and she’d just blurted out something really private.
“You are,” he said softly, responding to the newly serious mood. He reached out and put a hand on her thigh.
“I don’t really know that I am.” She couldn’t look at him, so she stared at the crackling fire. Her face blazed with the heat wafting from the flames.
“You’re still part of this town, Jessica.”
“I guess. I just don’t really feel like part if it. It’s not the same.” One of the reasons she’d wanted this marriage was so that she could feel connected again, and it was so frustrating that even marriage hadn’t made her less lonely. Hadn’t made her less alone.
“It is the same. These people know you and love you. You’re the one who holds herself back.”
“I do not hold myself back.” Her voice was a little sharp, since it felt like he was turning on her, when he’d sounded so understanding before. “Name one time I was invited to do something social and refused.”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean holding yourself back emotionally, like you don’t think they’ll love you.”
“Believe it or not, people don’t always love me.” For some reason, the pragmatic words sounded almost poignant to her own ears.
“They do. They would—if you would just take a step out and let them. But you assume they’re all judging you or looking down on you or ignoring you or something.”
“Not all of them.” This was far deeper a conversation than she was expected this evening, and it left her feeling a little off-stride. But she was on the defensive now, and she was determined to stand up for herself. “But you can’t tell me some of these Willow Park women don’t think I’m unnatural for spending time on a career instead of taking care of a house.”
“Some of them might. They’re not perfect. But who is? Narrow views can be incredibly annoying, but these people only know what they’ve been around all their lives. They’ll never realize they’re wrong unless they get to know you, and they’ll never get to know you if you don’t let them.”
Daniel was good at this—seeing people clearly, giving advice, thinking of what other people needed and putting together a convincing case for it. He did it naturally, and it was part of his job.
But, for some reason, it felt like he was invading her soul, and she wasn’t entirely comfortable with what it revealed about her.
“Being connected to other people doesn’t happen magically, you know,” he added, a dry smile in his voice. “You’ve got to do some of it yourself. You have to take a risk. You have to let yourself be vulnerable.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll try to be better. Shall we have a little self-help session with you now?”
He chuckled. “I’d rather not.”
“That’s what I thought. You can dish it out, but can’t take it. Typical.”
He stood up, smiling at her grumpy face. “Do you want some more wine?”
“Yeah.” She handed him her glass and stared at the fire until he returned.
“The tree looks great,” he said sitting down again and grabbing another handful of caramel corn. “Except it’s missing something.”
“What?” She scanned the tree, which she thought looked perfect.
“Why didn’t any of my peanuts end up on the tree?”
She choked as she remembered the peanuts painted in red and green he’d made in elementary school. She’d seen them in his ornament box but had passed them over.
“I don’t know,” she murmured smoothly. “I must have missed them.”
“They’re my favorites. I made them when I was seven.”
“They look like it.”
“Ah ha! I knew you rejected them on purpose!”
“I must have missed them when I was decorating the tree, but I remembered them when you mentioned them just now.”
“Don’t try to con me. You did it on purpose. I’ll find them tomorrow and add them to the tree.”
“I think it looks good now.”
“It will look better with the peanuts.”
“It will look ridiculous with the peanuts.”
“They’ll give it character.”
“Yeah, character like a nursery school.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, if the tree is in a nursery school. Our tree has plenty of character without them.”
“Lila always let me put them on.”
“Well, I’m not Lila.”
The argument had been fun and playful, but suddenly the mood shifted.
Wishing she hadn’t said the final comment, Jessica stared at the fire for a minute. “Sorry,” she said at last.
“Don’t be.”
She glanced at him and saw he didn’t look upset. Poignant but not upset.
It gave her courage enough to pursue the topic. She wanted him to be able to talk about Lila with her. She didn’t want Lila to be this silent, impenetrable barrier between them. “Did you and Lila have any traditions for Christmas?”
He shrugged, and she didn’t think he was going to answer. But then, staring at the fire the way she’d done before, he murmured, “Not many. We always had breakfast in bed on Christmas morning. Then we’d exchanged gifts right there.”
“In bed? You didn’t even do it in front of the tree?”
“No. Our first Christmas, she was so excited that she couldn’t wait until we’d gotten out of bed. So she pulled the present out of the nightstand and thrust it at me.”
“What had she gotten you?”
“A pen. A really nice
one. One I’d always wanted.”
“Oh. That sounds like a great gift.”
Her chest hurt. Lila and Daniel had loved each other so much. She remembered when they first started dating when he was a senior in college and Lila was a sophomore. Jessica well recalled that familiar sense of certainty—the absolute knowledge, from the very beginning, that they would be together forever.
She’d known it for sure. She’d seen their whole future spilling out before then. He and Lila would fall in love, marry, have children, spend their lives together. Love each other until they died.
That future was cut short, and she had a sudden slice of guilt about feeling a little grateful about it, since it meant she could have at least a little part of him now.
Nothing about Lila’s death was good, but, if she hadn’t died, Jessica would never have known, loved, married Daniel.
The thoughts were too hard, too deep, for a winter evening in front of the fire. She shook them off for another time.
To distract herself, she tossed a piece of caramel corn to Bear, who’d be sitting with perfect posture in the hope that her good behavior would prompt an edible reward.
Bear caught the kernel neatly in her mouth.
“You shouldn’t give that dog people-food.” Daniel must have, like her, broken away from the poignancy of the moment before.
“A little caramel corn never hurt anyone.”
“It’s the principle.”
She was tempted to tell him she’d seen him give Bear a piece of roast, but she managed to refrain—since he’d clearly done so in secret. She tossed another piece which was also caught. “She’s very talented.”
“You’re making it easy on her by throwing it right at her mouth.”
She frowned and tossed another piece, slightly misdirected.
Bear reached for it smartly and caught it.
Jessica gave Daniel a triumphant look.
“I’m not sure that was anything to be proud of.” He tossed a piece, not anywhere close to the dog.
Bear jumped up and lunged, grabbing it just after it hit the floor.
“She couldn’t possibly have caught that one! You have to make it achievable!”
“Fine.” He tossed again, this one just slightly closer.
Bear hurried to snatch up the popcorn and didn’t care at all that she hadn’t caught it.
“You’re making her miss on purpose.”
He was about to toss another piece—this one no doubt far afield too—but Jessica reached over and grabbed his wrist before he did.
They had a little wrestling match over the piece of popcorn, broken only by Daniel saving the bowl of popcorn before it spilt and Jessica moving her laptop to the coffee table before it fell to the floor.
He’d clenched his hand over the piece, but she used both of hers to try to pry his fingers open. They were both laughing now, and she was draped on top of them, but she wasn’t about to give up.
He was stronger than her, though, and she couldn’t make his fingers budge.
She groaned in frustration and made like she was going to give up.
When he relaxed slightly, she tickled him under the arm.
He huffed in surprise, and his fist loosened.
She clawed the popcorn out of his palm, in the process disintegrating it completely.
“I got it!” she declared, holding up a tiny piece as a victory prize. “I win! I—”
Her gloating was broken off abruptly when he grabbed her and pushed her back onto the couch, using his weight to hold her in place. “You did not fight fair.”
“It was perfectly fair. You’re just a sore loser.” Her voice wasn’t as authoritative as she’d been trying for. In fact, it was a little shaky.
She was suddenly conscious of his strength and heat and hot brown eyes as he gazed down on her. His skin was slightly damp, and his lower body was pressing into hers.
Her heart hammered wildly when he lowered his face to kiss her.
His mouth was gentle at first, almost sweet, his tongue gently teasing her lips. Then he nudged inside her mouth and started to stroke, and she moaned deep in her throat as her body responded.
Her blood pulsed as she fisted her hands in his shirt, meeting his tongue with her own.
They’d never kissed like this before outside of the bedroom. Before, it had always been in the dark.
The difference didn’t matter, though. She responded as she always did, desperately eager for more.
She arched her neck and gasped loudly as his mouth lowered to that spot on her neck that felt so good. “Daniel.”
He grunted a response, his hands starting to move busily over her body. They slipped under her sweatshirt and tank until they touched her bare skin.
She shivered as he pushed the fabric up to bare her breasts. Then she pressed up into his hands, making a silly breathless squeak as he thumbed her nipples.
He’d been staring hungrily down at her body but now he glanced up at her face. “What was that sound?”
“What sound?”
“That squeak.”
“I didn’t hear a squeak.”
He thumbed her nipples again, and she made the same little squeak at the resulting jolt of pleasure.
He grinned down at her, obviously very pleased with himself. “That sound.”
“It wasn’t a squeak. I was just breathing.”
“I know a squeak when I hear one.” He used the pads of his thumbs to rub circles on her tightened nipples, and she bit her lip to hold back the sound this time.
But he kept it up, and it felt so good, and she couldn’t help but arch up and release a ragged sigh.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “I love that you’re so responsive.”
She adored the possessive sound of his voice, but she couldn’t respond with words until he released her breasts and slid his hands down to her hips.
“What’s to love about that?” she asked, glad to hear at least a tiny bit of irony in her tone.
He grabbed the waistband of her pants. “It makes me feel all manly.”
“It’s not about you, so don’t get a big head about it.”
He raised his eyebrows sky-high.
She gasped. “You know what I meant!”
He laughed as he leaned down to kiss her again. “Yes, I know what you meant.”
He evidently changed his mind about her waistband and instead moved his hands back up to her breasts as he kissed her. He fondled her until she was squirming and had wrapped one leg around his hip, trying to get friction where she needed it.
Their mouths parted for long enough for him to pull her tops over her head, but then he kissed her again. The fire against her bare skin burned, blazed, branded her.
His lips trailed down her neck again, this time descending to her collarbone. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “You’re so beautiful, Jessica. I can’t seem to get enough of you.”
Her heart swelled in pleasure at the words. Then at the sensations as his mouth moved over her breasts, teasing for a minute before they lowered to her belly.
She cried out when he reached up to caress her breasts as he kissed little lines over her abdomen.
The ache between her legs intensified until she couldn’t stand it. “Please, Daniel. Please. I need… I need…”
She writhed beneath his attentions.
He knew what she needed, however inarticulate she was. He pulled down her pants and panties together and dropped them over the side of the couch.
Then he stared down at her completely naked body.
She’d never bared herself like this to anyone in a completely lit room. He could see all of her, and his eyes raked over her body, settling over the juncture of her thighs.
Then his eyes blazed, and his head lowered, and his mouth nuzzled her intimately.
She clutched at his head as he explored with his tongue and lips, fisting her hands in his hair.
When he found her clit, he sucked on it until she was crying out loudly
and her whole body shook through an intense orgasm.
“Oh, wow, oh, wow, oh wow,” she mumbled when he finally raised his head.
He smiled, clearly proud of himself as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
She gazed up at him. He looked so strong and sweet and dryly amused and everything she’d ever wanted.
She grabbed him and pulled him down into a kiss.
He responded eagerly, just as passionate as her. He worked on his pants, and she worked on his shirt until he was naked too.
She couldn’t help but reach out for his erection, stroking it gently with her fingers.
His breath hitched and then hitched again as she caressed him.
She wondered if he’d felt the same pleased pride she did when he’d pleased her.
He let her explore for a minute or so, but then he moved her hands away and eased her onto her back on the couch.
She reached up to grab the armrest above her head and hold on as he slid himself inside her.
His thrusts were fast and steady, and they felt increasingly good—tight and full and intimate.
She panted as he rocked into her, and she fisted her fingers into the leather, her whole body shaking with his motion.
He paused to wrap her legs around his hips, and she locked her ankles and tightened her thighs on each of his thrusts.
“Oh, yeah, oh, yeah,” she gasped, when the penetration shifted inside her. “So good.”
She’d never felt like this before, like pressure inside her was coiling, even deeper than her orgasms before.
“How is it?” He was sweating and huffing with effort, but pleasure twisted on his face.
When she could focus enough to look in his eyes, she saw their expression was strangely primal, dominant.
“So good. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” She was practically begging now as the pleasure kept spiraling through her. She was slammed with waves of heat from the fire and so much more.
“I won’t stop. That’s right, Jessica. That’s right. That’s so good. You’re almost there.”
His voice was another caress. She started to make embarrassing sobbing noises, and her hands flew up to claw at his shoulders as the tension finally broke.