by Shara Azod
He realized at that moment why he couldn’t get her out of his head. She intoxicated him, and he couldn’t deny that any more than he could refute her claim about Momma Caruthers’ meatloaf.
“Yes, I would’ve given it all up to spend ten minutes with you.” The air in his lung escaped. Tight. Tension. He needed her for release, and he reached out to her, caught himself, and picked up a glass of champagne instead.
“Right.” She took another bite of the fruitcake.
“It does look good.” Kevin took her hand and guided the last piece of her fruitcake into his mouth. “I’m ready to try something new.”
Chloe’s stunned face made him laugh. “I’m sorry. That was rude…”
She jerked her hand back, put her flute on the table, and held up the now-empty hand to his eye level. “Yes, it was!”
“…but it looked so good.”
“You. What the hell am I supposed to do with you?”
With that, Chloe left the room.
He had a few ideas, but it didn’t seem like Chloe wanted to hear them. He’d managed to make her upset, and that didn’t sit well with him at all. His bold action had invaded her personal space, but he hadn’t been thinking about that at the time. So enchanted with her, he had completely bungled the situation again. Just being near her made him clumsy, goofy, and well, foolish.
And it had been going so well.
I could really use some Christmas luck here. He glanced down at the fruitcake slices. Chloe had been right. It wasn’t terrible. In fact, the small edge he ate held a lot of flavor. He picked up another piece and bit into it. This combination of candied fruits, nuts, and cake tasted different, but still good.
His mind went back to Chloe’s words about fruitcake. He’d been so greedy trying to eat the entire cake by himself, devouring women left and right—date after date–he wondered now if he hadn’t missed out.
What if he only tried a commitment, like he had the fruitcake? One yummy woman who filled his life, plugging all those empty holes and pangs he pretended weren’t there. How would he stomach that? How would his life handle it?
Probably as well as he handled that slice of fruitcake.
A soft smile flitted around his lips.
Yes, he would have to try.
After all, it was the holiday.
Chapter 6: Bake for 350 Degrees
Chloe’s heart raced. Standing in the hallway, she tried to regain her usual cool, which became incredibly elusive around Kevin O’Bryan. He managed to expose all she struggled to keep secret.
Shivers still rippled through her from his touch, his soft lips brushing her fingers when he ate her fruitcake. God, if his lips felt that incredible eating cake…damn, he must be quite talented when eating, well, other things.
With her cheeks hot, she fanned herself with her hands, and tried to calm down. Kevin rattled her and weakened not only her knees, but her resolve to not get involved with womanizing bastards.
“Hey, you okay?” Cree touched her arm. She slipped out from the dining room. “You look upset.”
“I’m fine.”
“Right. As you have I’m fine stretched across your face.” Cree crossed her arms. “Whose ass do I need to string up?”
Chloe forced a smile. “No one. Really. I’m fine. Just got a chill.”
Cree searched her face, and then cocked her hip. “No, I know exactly why you’re wearing that face. The handsome ginger whose first name starts with a K. What’d he do?”
Chloe shook her head. How could she put into words the range of emotions coursing through her right now? She liked the man. That she couldn’t deny. Their chemistry threatened to explode into an evening of straight up hardcore adult s-e-x. He made her hot and cold at the same time. Utterly frustrating one moment and perfectly tender the next, Kevin kept her guessing.
“Did he touch you? Hurt you? Stephen will toss him right now.” Cree inched closer to her. “Chloe?”
She rolled her eyes and huffed out a sigh. “No, Cree. It’s nothing like that, because you already know, I would’ve kicked him in his balls. He’d be singing the soprano version of Jingle Bells.
Cree laughed. “So, what’s the problem?”
“I met him yesterday at C.A.K.E. He asked me out. I declined, but Cree, you know me.”
Cree sighed, and gave her a one-arm hug. “I do.”
“I like him.” Chloe confessed. “He’s funny…”
Cree held her hand. “Chloe…”
“…and a clear womanizer.” Chloe finished.
Cree took her arm and led her down the hall to what Cree commonly called The Carolina room. Cree flipped on the wall light switch. Decorated in soft Carolina blue, the rectangular room had been washed in Tarheel décor. It crawled over the walls, into picture frames and across the single bed’s comforter, sheets and pillowcases. Cree shut the door behind her.
“Real talk.” Cree sat down beside Chloe on the bed. “When I met Stephen, the man couldn’t be any less desirable. He put the whoa in womanizer.”
“Not everyone is Stephen, you know. Plus, I don’t pick well.” Chloe adjusted her sweater. She couldn’t just sit here and mope. Determination ran through her. She’d get herself together, and get through this dinner with her wit and humor.
Cree shot her frown. “Listen, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m only offering a different perspective. You said you pick poorly. Love is risk. So is reward. Why not have dinner with him? You can’t keep kicking aside every man who resembles your father.”
Chloe stiffened. “Really, Cree?”
Cree squeezed her shoulder. “I’m your friend, and because I am, I’m not going to bullshit you. You are a grown woman. If you want to try Kevin out, do it. Go in with your eyes wide open. Don’t let fear fuck up your chance at happiness. I’ve worked with him and underneath all of his show and bravado is a man terrified of rejection and deeply longing to love someone. I know what the office women said about him, and I’ve caught how he looks at you.”
Chloe swallowed the snarky words she wanted to give Cree. Her sorority sister didn’t mince words. Had the situation been reversed, she would’ve given her the exact same advice. Kevin wasn’t her father, and at times during their conversation in the dining room, the man seemed genuine and warm. It didn’t feel like an act.
“You’re right.” Chloe whispered after some time.
“You remember Kenyatta? She ended up marrying that fine Irish man from accounting.”
Chloe nodded. She did indeed. Handsome man, but Kenyatta had been more than a little skittish. It didn’t have to do with the man himself, but they were co-workers.
“I got an invitation. I had to fly to Denver, so I missed the wedding. Before I left, I sent them a gift.”
Cree hugged her again. “Remember how nervous she was about even dating him when he clearly wanted her? No risk, no reward.”
“This isn’t Sparta, Cree.” Chloe laughed, feeling better, and getting to her feet.
Cree did the same. “I know and I’m not asking you to sacrifice yourself for bullshit. This isn’t me saying go for it, but you seem like you want to try him.”
Chloe did want to try and see what Kevin had under his, ahem, proverbial hat. That had never been in question. But should she? “I’m starving.”
“I bet you are.” Cree elbowed her playfully and they dissolved into giggles.
“That’s a sound I like to hear,” Stephen said as he met them in the hallway. “There you are. Thought I was going to have to send out a search party. Kenyatta and Doran are here. I think your Aunt Grace is here, too. I heard your mother singing Free at Last in the kitchen.”
“Yep. That’s my Aunt Grace coming in to save Momma from the dressing recipe.” Cree squeezed Chloe’s hand before releasing it. “Come on.”
Chloe followed them into the dining room. Everyone stood behind their selected seat. Kenyatta waved at her, but was deep in a conversation with a woman who looked just like her; probably Cree’s Aunt Gra
ce, since Kenyatta and Cree were cousins.
Doran raised a glass at Chloe. He stood on the other side of Kenyatta. Across from Doran, Kevin stood beside a seat, and gestured to her to sit by him. She inclined her head, accepting his challenge, even though there weren’t any other empty seats. He pulled the chair out.
Stephen came in and stood at one end of the table, and Cree at the other. Intimate, the table didn’t feel too cozy or close, and despite the volume of crystal, silver, and cloth on the table, it didn’t feel overdone, either.
“Please, sit everyone,” Stephen gestured and everyone moved at once.
Kevin drew her chair out, and helped her sit down, pushing it behind her. An act of chivalry and a bit outdated, but Chloe found it sweet. At the head of the table, she spied Stephen’s shocked face. He recovered fast, but not quickly enough.
Momma Caruthers came into the room as Percy and Aunt Grace helped bring out the food for them to consume. “Now, let’s bow our heads and give grace.”
Aunt Grace said, “You’re welcome.”
Chloe smiled, and then bowed her head. Momma Caruthers shook her head, cleared her throat, and began, “Lord, on this day, or thereabouts, you sent your son down to the earth…”
With a small smile at Kevin, she draped her napkin over her lap, and closed her eyes. When her stomach rumbled, Kevin giggled softly beside her. She placed her index finger up to her lips and shushed him.
He nodded and closed his eyes, but she couldn’t take hers off of him.
*****
After dinner, coffee and cake were served out on the terrace.
The double French balcony doors had been thrown open and the cool night rushed in. It felt great against Kevin’s face. He strolled across the balcony with coffee in hand to warm him. Overhead, the expanse of night sky sparkled as if illuminating the way for St. Nicholas’s famous ride.
The chill of winter had erased the garden’s many fragrances and perfumes. Even though the landscaped grounds no longer delighted the sense of smell, they were a feast for the eyes. Decorated in white Christmas lights, the garden looked as festive as the seasonal decorations inside the mansion. All across the gently rolling land, soft illumination exposed trees, bushes, and benches. Draped in holiday décor, the gardens warranted a walk, if not for the cold.
“It’s freezing out here,” Chloe proclaimed as she joined him on the balcony.
Kevin leaned onto the stone railing, and held his cup with both hands, not only to keep warm, but to stop himself from touching her. He didn’t mean just sexually. Chloe’s skin glowed; she looked airbrushed.
Temptation…to touch her cheek, to kiss her nose, to cup her face…all of those impulses raced through him simultaneously. Since he couldn’t do even one of those actions, he, well, held his cup.
“Here.” Placing his cup on the flat railing, he took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.
“Aren’t you cold?” She held her cup in both hands, too.
“Not really.” Kevin tore his eyes away and glanced across the garden again. “Doesn’t matter what season, this area is always so beautiful. Fall. Winter. Spring. Summer’s humid as hell, but still gorgeous.”
Chloe leaned across the balcony’s overhang. “I’ve only been here during the evenings, for parties and formal dinners. This place feels like a fairytale made real.”
Kevin shook his head and pointed to the northeast. “See there. That blinking light at the edge, just by that tree with the reindeer? That’s the driveway.”
Chloe frowned. “It seems so far away.”
“It’s an illusion because of the way the house is designed in conjunction with the shape of the land.”
Chloe smiled as she turned to face him. “So everything isn’t what it seems.”
“Stephen is good people, and is Cree, but a fairy tale this isn’t. Life isn’t. They work hard for what they have.” Kevin sipped his coffee to chase off the chill.
“You are cold. Here!” Chloe started removing his jacket, balancing her coffee in one hand and trying not to drop his jacket to the ground with the other. She kept twirling around in an attempt to grab the jacket without spilling her coffee.
“No, I’m not. Just keep it.” Kevin rebuffed her, shaking his head.
“Seriously, you’re turning pink,” Chloe cajoled. “I won’t be responsible for you catching pneumonia.”
Kevin saw her coffee slipping and stuck out his hand to steady her. He caught hold of her just as her ankle twisted awkwardly, sending her right into his arms. Her coffee sloshed all over his shirt.
“Damn it! Are you okay? Did I burn you?” Chloe looked up at him. Wide-eyed and beautiful, she searched his face. “Are you hurt?”
Kevin sighed. “I won’t complain about Cree’s lukewarm coffee again.”
Chloe laughed, and pushed herself to a standing position, but still stayed loosely in his embrace. She didn’t break eye contact, but she had stopped talking. When she bit her lower lip, Kevin drew her in closer, thinking I should be doing that.
Wet. Cold. He didn’t feel a damn thing, except the weight of Chloe as he dipped his head, and with a slight breath of hesitation, kissed her. She melted into him, and the light press of lips deepened considerably, surprising Kevin at Chloe’s sparked passion.
When she ended the kiss, she didn’t pull away, but rather, drew back for a deeper breath. She shuddered, holding the cup up at the apex between her breasts. He adjusted his jacket around her shoulders, and hugged her a little tighter, her cup digging into his chest.
“Was that so bad?” he teased.
“You smell strongly of Christmas blend coffee,” she said back.
“Christmas cheer isn’t just in my spirit, it’s on my shirt.”
She smirked up at him. “That was not a funny joke.”
“Well, they can’t all be gems—like you.”
When she shivered again, Kevin, with his arms still around Chloe, stepped back from the balcony and started toward the mansion. “Let’s go be back inside. You’re shivering.”
“It was nice out here.” Chloe laid her head against him as they walked, arm-and-arm, back into the house.
“It’s nice wherever you are,” Kevin whispered against her hair. “And that’s where I want to be, Chloe. Wherever you are.”
Chapter 7: Packaging
Only a few hours before Christmas Day began, Kevin walked arm- in-arm with Chloe to her car. Her ankle tweaked a little, she’d kicked off her heels and carried them in her hand. Beside her, Kevin—now dressed now in a long-sleeved Carolina T-shirt, but still reeking of coffee—insisted he help her to her car. He’d driven her car up to the front door, but the long walkway from the mansion’s door to the idling car seemed to take forever. Cree had given her a candy cane-patterned sock to protect her foot from the cold. Stephen and Cree stood in the open mansion front doors and waved good-bye.
After they’d come back in from the cold, Stephen had fetched Kevin a clean shirt, but didn’t inquire about the circumstances requiring it. Cree gave her the It ain’t none of my business look as they all went into the media room for a movie. They watched a movie about marriage and Christmas for another two hours before finally calling it quits.
Now, alone with him again, she had to think about her actions. He kissed her and she nearly sucked his face off. How hungry she’d been for touch, for human contact, for affection. She folded like a tent the moment his lips touched hers.
“You’re very quiet. Are you okay?” Kevin asked.
“Just thinking.” To be honest, she didn’t know what to say. Where did they go from here? Did they need to go anywhere? For goodness’ sake, it was just a kiss, not a marriage proposal. Kevin himself had declared there weren’t any fairytales, not that she needed him to tell her.
Kevin stopped at her SUV, and turned her to face him. “Chloe, I meant what I said on the balcony. I like being with you.”
“Look, Kevin, I…” Chloe rolled her eyes, but then stopped when she saw the
expression on his face. At first, when he said it on the balcony, it sounded like so much insincere talk she’d heard from other men she’d dated.
But Kevin’s face seemed pinched in sincerity, also like admitting the truth had been difficult for him to do.
“Are you all right?”
Kevin swallowed and nodded. “Sure. Yeah.”
He didn’t try to rush in to stop her, or to convince her he wasn’t a womanizer. In fact, he waited to hear what she had to say next.
“I need to get home. Tomorrow’s Christmas and I have a ton of running around to do,” Chloe said.
“Yeah. Me too.” Kevin stepped back so she could climb into the SUV. “Let me help you. Your, uh, ankle.”
He looked like he was in pain, but he didn’t acknowledge it, and Chloe didn’t want to embarrass him by inquiring again. With surprisingly strong arms and hands, he hoisted her up into the driver’s seat. She put her clutch in the passenger’s seat before turning back to him.
Kevin leaned inside the driver’s side door, and smiled. His skin still glowed pink, perhaps from cold, since she still had his dinner jacket wrapped around her. “Oh, Kevin. Your jacket!”
Again, she moved to take it off and return it, but he waved her off. “Keep it for now. The next time you’re by the office, just drop it off.”
That sounded a lot like he’d given up on dating her. Saddened by this, Chloe could only nod. She started the vehicle.
“Hey, Chloe?” Kevin shut her door and squatted down beside it.
She lowered the window with her heart pounding. Now, he’d ask her out on a date. Maybe New Year’s Eve. She smiled and panted a little as she clutched the wheel.
“Yes?”
“You’re right about the fruitcake. I’ve been missing out.”
“What?” Chloe blinked as she tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about.
“The fruitcake. Remember? Before dinner. I’d never had it before, but you were right. I tried it, and I liked it. I think I could love it, you know; over time, it might even be my favorite.” Kevin winked at her. “Merry Christmas.”