by Cora Brent
“Well, I think I’ll jump in the shower and see if Easton used all the hot water.”
Jack laughed. “I would bet that he did.”
“Cold shower it is then.”
The icy onslaught that was blasted out by the showerhead gave new meaning to the world ‘cold’. By the time I was done I was pretty sure I could be classified as hypothermic. My teeth knocked together as I dried off, pulling my flannel pants and sweatshirt back on. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and decided that with my fish-pale face, wide eyes and mangled hair I looked like a drowned ghost. Funny how when I woke up this morning I wasn’t the least bit concerned over my appearance. Then with one knock on the kitchen window my whole comfortable attitude went haywire.
Mercifully, the living room was empty when I passed through on the way upstairs. Slowly my body temperature returned to normal as I dried my hair and then slid into a pair of dark jeans with knee high leather boots and a form-fitting black shirt that complemented my chest.
By the time I was finished grooming myself it was after eleven. As I stepped down the stairs carefully in my heels I thought the house seemed strangely silent. It was Christmas Eve. Where could everyone have gone?
Weak ankles were a lifelong curse. My left foot wobbled on the last step and I stumbled, bounced off a wall and lurched into the kitchen with my arms flailing.
Of course Easton Malone had to be sitting right there at the table, paging idly through Jack’s morning newspaper.
“That’s a bitch,” he said without looking up.
My ankle hurt a little bit when I took a step forward. I crossed my arms in a feeble attempt to seem assertive.
“Nice manners,” I said sarcastically.
He looked up, confused. “What?”
I lowered my voice to a whisper, glancing around to make sure we were alone. “I understand that I’m not your favorite person but that doesn’t mean you have to call me a bitch right off the bat.”
“Jesus Christ, Claudia. You should probably cut off more of your hair because it seems to be blocking your hearing. I said that last step is a bitch.”
“No you didn’t.”
He gave me his full attention then. He had a tan now, courtesy of Florida’s sun. His shoulders looked broader, his eyes an even brighter shade of blue. I must have partially blocked out the memory of just how damn good-looking he was because I felt rather blindsided. He folded the newspaper and looked me up and down in a way that was marginally indecent. Then he sighed.
“Do you always hear what you want to hear?” he asked tiredly.
Suddenly I felt foolish. How long was I going to stand here and argue with this guy over what he may or may not have said?
“I apologize if I misunderstood you,” I said, stiffly sitting down across from him.
Easton let out an exasperated breath and shook his head slightly. “You did misunderstand me.”
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.”
He just stared at me mutely.
“What’s the problem? Would you like me to say it a third time, Easton?”
“No,” he said and reopened the newspaper, burying his face in it.
I hated this. For the last year and a half I’d been avoiding this moment and here it was, inevitable. And pretty awful.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
He was reading the sports page. “Something about a visit with Santa at the fire house. They said they’d be back within an hour.”
“Oh.”
I cleared my throat. Easton continued to read. I cleared it again. Easton turned the page.
“I really am sorry,” I repeated.
“You keep saying that.”
“Could you maybe look in my direction when I’m speaking?”
He threw down the newspaper, pushed his chair back abruptly and slid into the chair right next to mine. There he was, twelve inches away, gazing at me intently, leaning over so close that I felt his body heat.
“There,” he said with maddening artificial politeness, “I’m looking. I’m looking right at you. Speak your mind.”
I was rather uncomfortable but I couldn’t run away, not yet. The air needed to be cleared between us at some point.
“Easton, I know I was a real jerk for bolting the way I did last summer. I shouldn’t have been screwing with your feelings like that.”
He laughed. “You weren’t fucking my feelings, Claudia. You were fucking me.”
I stood up so quickly I knocked my chair over. “What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, what is wrong with you? I’m trying to have an adult conversation.”
“Bullshit. You’re talking to me like I’m some lovesick clinger you need to cut loose.”
“I was just hoping we can move on and be friends. I take full responsibility for what happened between us last year.”
He blinked at me with wide innocence. “Well aren’t you all great and powerful. Listen sweetheart, I don’t stick my dick anywhere I don’t want to stick it.”
“You know Easton, if you don’t want me to treat you like a kid then stop acting like a kid!”
He laughed again and I gave up. He hadn’t matured at all and I could feel myself regressing with every second I spent in his presence. What’s worse, every obnoxious word that tumbled out of his mouth made me want him more.
As far as I was concerned this little episode was over. I tried to step around him but he stood, abruptly grabbing my hips in his hands and massaging them roughly.
“What are you doing?” I gasped.
“You’ve wanted to wrap all this around me since I walked through the door,” he growled.
“Fuck you.”
“You did, honey. And you really want to again.”
He boldly explored between my legs and I felt dizzy. I let out a tiny whimper and shuddered as he pressed and stroked, using his broad thumb.
“I bet you haven’t even spread these for anyone else since I had you. Damn, just how dry is that desert heat, Claudia?”
“Easton, goddammit! We’re in front of the window!”
He abruptly shoved his hard body against me, grabbed my ass in his hands and guided me backwards until I was pressed against the far wall.
“Now we’re not in front of the window,” he said mildly and got my zipper open.
“Wait,” I said but I was already helping him pull my pants down.
“You want me to stop?”
“Easton,” I gasped but at the same time I was moving my hips to the beat of his crude stroking.
“Tell me to stop, Claudia. Yeah, tell me it’s wrong. Tell me why I shouldn’t get down on my knees and shove my tongue up your pussy.”
I couldn’t tell him to stop. I couldn’t beg for him to continue. I couldn’t say anything at all. I could only keep climbing higher and higher. I closed my eyes, preparing to be consumed by the wave, not caring a bit that I was on the verge of climaxing against the kitchen wall with the guy who’d invaded my dreams last summer and refused to leave ever since.
And then, just like that, it all ended.
Easton stood up, flashed me a wicked grin and returned to his newspaper at the table.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, flustered and frantically zipping my jeans. “Are they home?”
“Nope,” he said and turned a page with a smirk on his face.
Then I understood. My face was unbearably hot and I clenched my fists. “You did that just to be an absolute asshole.”
“Yup.”
I was angry, embarrassed and sexually deprived so I said something childish and terribly inadequate. “Easton, you SUCK!”
“You’ll be fine,” he shrugged. “Just go upstairs and finish yourself off. I get the feeling you’re used to it.”
If it wasn’t ten degrees outside I would have run out and slammed the door. If I had a car here I would have put my foot on the accelerator and sped all the way to Montauk Point. If I had a frying pan in my hand I would have used it bludgeon Easton Malone into a senseless pu
ddle.
Instead I trudged upstairs and took his suggestion because, like it or not, everything that insufferable little shit had just said was painfully, completely true.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EASTON
I was so fucking pissed at myself.
I had her in my hands. I had her about to fucking come on my hand.
But instead of carrying her upstairs and finishing what I’d started, what I’d been fantasizing about since last summer, I decided to play games and walk away.
What the hell was it about Claudia that always turned me into an unbearable ass?
After she stomped upstairs and slammed the door I actually smacked myself on the forehead a few times and said the word ‘fuck’ repeatedly. It seemed like the only word I ever remembered when Claudia was around. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I hadn’t expected to see her. I figured I was just blowing into town for a few days to enjoy a nice family Christmas. She hardly ever came home for the holidays and she hadn’t been back here at all since the wedding last June.
If I’d had some time to get my head on straight before barreling into the kitchen and seeing Claudia unexpectedly sitting there, glaring at me like I was the antichrist, I might have handled things differently.
On the other hand, I might have still gotten annoyed by her prissy, superior attitude. It seemed that Miss Giordano had convinced herself that she had seduced me last summer. The chick was fucking delusional. I had been in total control of that shit.
It occurred to me that I ought to chase her upstairs and set her straight when I heard the distinct thump of a car door. My sister’s bright voice floated back to me and I slumped miserably in the chair. That might have been my one chance to be alone with Claudia and I’d made a mess out of it.
What would she have said if I’d told her the truth? That ever since we were together I couldn’t stick it into another girl without thinking about Claudia’s face and imagining it was Claudia’s body I was inside of. She just would have winced and stiffly offered another stupid apology for damaging my tender young heart.
“How was Santa?” I asked as my sister’s family came through the door. I hoped as if I sounded like I had nothing bigger on my mind than the welfare of jolly old St. Nick.
Allie’s little pink face peered at me from beneath a thick snow hood as she clung to her father. They had her all bound up in one of those puffy jackets that made people look like Macy’s parade balloons.
“Look at that,” Anya said proudly, pushing her phone in my face so I could see the picture of Allie reluctantly sitting in the lap of a red-cheeked would-be Santa.
“She looks like she’s about to cry,” I remarked.
“She did cry,” Anya admitted. “About three seconds after I snapped this. Jack scooped her right up and gave poor Santa the evil eye like it was his fault.”
Jack was indignant. “He had one of those raspy smoker’s voices and his ‘ho ho ho-ing’ sounded like glass scraping against a chalkboard. My poor baby. Who wouldn’t be freaked out by that?”
Anya rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “Whatever you say, darling.” She reached over and pushed Allie’s hood from her head. The baby’s face lit up and she practically vaulted into her mother’s arms.
“I know, I know, Mommy is number one,” complained Jack as he gave her over. “Think she’s ready for a nap?”
“No,” Anya yawned, “but I think I am.”
Jack tensed. I saw it. His whole body went stiff and he stared at my sister searchingly. I stared at her too. She did look a little drained but I didn’t see anything wrong. No confusion, no trembling hands. She just looked like a tired but happy mother with a baby in her arms.
“Maybe you should go lie down,” he suggested with an edge to his voice.
She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe you should go lie down, old man.”
Jack touched her cheek. “How about we go lie down together?”
“Gross,” I objected. “Other people over here. Other people who would rather swallow wood splinters than think about you guys doing anything horizontal.”
Jack smirked and gestured to the baby. “Well, how do you think she got here?”
“Stork dropped her off.”
“Do I really need to give you a biology lesson, junior?”
“No. In fact you should never ever mention anything about biology when I’m in the room again.”
“Where’s Claudia?” Anya asked. She was looking at me strangely. Since last summer she’d asked me a few weird questions about Claudia that made me think she might suspect a thing or two. Even if she’d asked me directly I wouldn’t have told her.
“She’s around,” I said in a vague tone, like I couldn’t give a rat’s ass if Claudia was in the next room or sailing to Iceland.
“Have you seen her?”
“I think so. I don’t remember. Maybe.” Yeah, that was smooth. I sounded like a total idiot.
It didn’t matter because Anya dropped the Claudia Inquisition. She asked me what my plans were for the day. I could have called any number of my old buddies since they were probably all home for Christmas. I could have choked back a six pack or two and bragged about the draft and being neck deep in more pussy than I could handle. But I didn’t want to do any of that. I just wanted to be with my family and maybe somehow make things right with the only girl who had ever meant more to me than a quick pounding.
“It’s Christmas Eve,” I said. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere today. I just want to be with you guys.”
That made her happy and I always felt like a million bucks when I did something to make my sister smile. Anya hadn’t been too pleased when I dropped out of school in favor of the uncertain life of a minor league baseball player. She’d argued there would be plenty of time for me to pursue that dream after I secured my future. I was nothing but baffled by the whole school thing though. All that endless talking about the words of dead men. That was all a university education seemed like to me. I was ready for something else. I was ready for it right now.
Anya wanted to bake cookies and we were in her way. She shooed us all into the living room and I wound up sitting on the couch with my niece in my lap as she quietly drank a bottle. Jack was still obsessing over the heating oil so he went to go check the levels and give the supplier another call to see if a delivery could be made today. The sky turned gray outside and scattered snowflakes began to fall.
Allie finished her bottle and dropped it with a little sigh. I switched her to my shoulder, lightly patting her back as I’d seen Jack and Anya do. There was something so peaceful and real about sitting in a quiet room with a baby in my arms. I’d never given any thought to fatherhood and sure as hell wasn’t ready to start thinking about it now. But still, as Anya’s baby girl fell into a light sleep on my shoulder, I could see the appeal for the first time.
Claudia came down the stairs so softly I didn’t hear her until she reached the last step. She didn’t stumble this time. She stood there at the base of the stairs, listening for a moment. To her right, Anya was making a racket in the kitchen and to her left I was silently begging her to turn around.
When she finally did turn around she paused at the sight of me holding Allie. She’d thrown on a heavy black sweater but she still shivered.
“I’m not used to this,” she said with a grimace. “The cold, I mean.”
“Me either,” I replied, glad that she was talking to me when I wasn’t sure I even deserved it.
Claudia didn’t have eyes for me as she crossed the room though. She was watching her sleeping sister. She tentatively reached out and brushed a blonde curl away from the baby’s face.
“You want to take her?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Not now. She seems comfortable where she is.” She looked up and noticed the lightly falling snow. “So we are getting a white Christmas. That’s a surprise.”
“I heard Jack say the forecast has been revised. At first they said flurries and now t
hey’re calling for eight inches.”
“Well I’m sure he’s prepared for it.”
“Maybe. Sometimes surprises catch you a little off guard.”
Claudia nodded absently and I didn’t know if she got my meaning or not. If I had a few more guts beneath my finely tones abs I would blurt out an apology.
“Think I’ll go see what Jack’s up to,” she said and shoved her hands into the pockets of her bulky sweater.
I watched her go with some sadness, thinking about how much I wanted to pull her down here with me. Not for anything dirty, not this time. I just wanted her to sit next to me so I could put my arm around her shoulders and feel her settle against my body as we watched the snowfall on the other side of the window. If I could have that for one simple hour then I wouldn’t need anything else for the next ten Christmases.
But I had too much fucking pride to ask Claudia for anything.
So instead I let the day pass by while we avoided each another. In the evening Rocco and Getty dropped by with their usual overbearing noise. Rocco joined me in the front yard while I tried to shovel the rapidly accumulating snow from the sidewalk.
“Why don’t you wait on that?” he suggested, blowing into his hands for warmth. “It’s still coming down anyway and tomorrow morning I’ll get the blower out.”
“Nah, I’ve got plenty of energy that needs to go somewhere.” I pushed the shovel beneath a blanket of fresh snow and lifted.
Rocco grinned. “Claudia?”
I dropped the shovel. “Where?”
He laughed. “All up in your head, obviously.”
“She tell you that?”
“She tells me nothing. Don’t worry, man. It’s just that sometimes I’m a little more observant than the rest of the Giordanos. I won’t be saying a word to big brother Jack.”
“Nothing to tell anyway.” I leaned on the wooden handle of the shovel and inhaled deeply, letting the frigid air fill my lungs and fight for control. I exhaled a plume of white frost. “So how’s things with you? I hear you’ve got a new lady.”