Forever Falling (Sunshine and Moonlight Book 2)

by Paige Randall

  “That smells so good.” Marina comments before whispering, “Callum, what did your mother give you?”

  He shakes his head in disgust. “A bloody plane ticket back to England. She’s forgiven me and now I’m supposed to drop my life and follow her like a good doggie.” His whisper is equally quiet but harsh and angry.

  “I don’t want you to go Callum,” Marina gives him a pitiful, sweet little girl pout.

  “I know Marina. We have a good time together, don’t we?” He is in no hurry to leave and gives her hair a good rumple. She is getting attached to him and the feeling is mutual. Still, he doesn’t want to complicate her life. What type of influence could he have on her? Making pancakes together is one thing, being a responsible adult is another thing entirely.

  “That looks good,” he says pointing to the neatly arranged berries and melon on the tray.

  “Callum. You and my mom…” she doesn’t ask the question, just lets the words hang there.

  He just sighs and doesn’t tell any lies or make promises he can’t keep.

  “I care for her Marina. You know I do.” Victoria walks into the kitchen and cuts the conversation short.

  “Looks wonderful,” she says, popping a berry into her mouth, hugging Marina.

  Callum can see how happy she is. She is happier here than she was in Utah. He turns back to plating the bacon and wonders if there could be something more between them than the impending casual sex and an ongoing friendship.

  After dinner at The Mansion, George takes Caroline’s arm and they walk the gardens to admire the Christmas lights. Marina points out her favorites. Victoria takes Callum’s arm and hangs back by the gates. She shivers, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “Are you cold?” he asks and actually takes the dinner jacket he is wearing and wraps it over her shoulders.

  “Wow. Old fashioned chivalry. That is a first for me,” she smiles. His small act of kindness gives her a tiny bit of distance from her memories of the last time she walked these grounds.

  “You don’t look well Victoria.”

  She doesn’t answer, but she makes a face indicating she really isn’t well, adding a small smile and a shrug. They have spent enough time together at this point that they can read each other’s faces pretty well.

  “Did you enjoy dinner?” he asks.

  A tear slides from the corner of her eye. She is not a crier so the single tear gives him pause. She places a finger over her lips, telling him to keep it between the two of them.

  “Is it this place?” he asks and another tear falls. “Oh my god it happened here, didn’t it?

  She wipes her eyes with the edge of her finger careful not to smudge carefully placed eyeliner. She doesn’t wear eyeliner every day, but it is Christmas.

  “What the fuck are we doing here Victoria?” he asks, appalled that they are spending Christmas at the site of her rape.

  “He doesn’t know it was here,” she says pointing to her father. “He loves it here.” After a moment, she adds, “When I decided to come back here, I decided I wouldn’t hide from anything. All in or all out, right? I’m all in.”

  She smiles before handing him back the jacket, takes a deep breath and joins her daughter to admire the beautiful holiday decorations. He is left standing dumbfounded. If he had handled his problems in England the way she was handling hers now, he would be in a very different situation.

  Later, Callum sits up reading Hunger Games. The house is quiet. By page five, the story became less about sexual fantasy for him and actually quite fascinating. He is a slow reader, but he is steadily managing his way through Katniss’ struggle as a Tribute and he can’t put it down. About one o’clock, he hears tiptoes outside his bedroom door. Victoria taps with a single fingernail.

  “You up?” she whispers.

  “I am. Come in,” he whispers back and straightens his pillow so he looks less slouchy.

  She is wearing a black tank top and red checked flannel bottoms. Her hair is piled on her head and tied into, what he now knows is called, a messy bun. Her face is clean of any make-up and she smells like soap. She is as sexy as any Playboy centerfold.

  “Callum, can we talk?” she asks, leaning against the door. He pats the mattress beside him and she sits, bracing her feet on the wooden bedframe.

  “What a wonderful Christmas,” she stalls. “Having you here with us, meant a lot to me.”

  “It was indeed. Being here meant a lot to me as well,” he says truthfully.

  “Callum, my god this sounds so cliché,” she stalls again. “About us.”

  She sits on the edge of his bed, but he wishes she would lay beside him. He is going all wrong in the head with the young and single thing. It was a good plan and it worked for him for a long time, but he’s having trouble remembering why. At the same time, he doesn’t want to play around with her. There is Marina to consider and he knows how badly these things always end.

  “Are you going to tell me you are full of shame and regret for kissing a shallow bastard like me, and you just want to forget it? I understand, Victoria. I do,” he says it because it is the right thing to say, but he doesn’t mean it. He isn’t sure what he means though.

  She chooses her words carefully. “Actually no. I don’t want to forget it. Just the opposite in fact.”

  “What do you mean the opposite?” He sits up and turns her chin to face him. Crystal blue eyes speak so much more than what is coming out of her mouth. Damn her eyes. Damn her mouth.

  “I know you are still getting over Elizabeth.”

  “No I’m not,” he protests.

  “Whatever,” she says and continues. “I have to deal with everything here. Neither of us is in a position to start something. I don’t even know if we’d like each other if your wings weren’t clipped.” She points to the leg brace. No strings. She’s angling for no strings. I can do no strings.

  “I’d like you even if my wings weren’t clipped,” he protests again. “Sorry, I’m interrupting. What were you going to say?” He asks, even though he knows, as sure as the day is long, exactly what she was going to say.

  “I want you Callum. It’s been a while for me, and I don’t want to feel guilty about it or ashamed of it. I don’t want it to be weird or overly emotional. I don’t want to wonder if you want me. I’m not looking for a proposal here. I just want you.” She waits for a response. “No commitment Callum. I’m not asking you for anything other than this.” She gestures to the bed. “I like having you here, but I know this is temporary.”

  He studies her face for a moment and then two, silently asking questions he isn’t ready to ask out loud. Could you love a sexually impulsive, dyslexic with limited prospects? Are you better off with or without me? What can I possibly offer you? The answers to these questions elude him.

  “Callum?” she asks waiting for some type of reaction.

  Without another thought, he sets Katniss aside for the living, breathing woman in front of him. He tosses the book and misses the nightstand. Katniss falls to the floor.

  Callum slides his hand under Victoria’s tank, up her back, just to test the feel of her skin. It is warm and soft and he thinks he is too late. He is already falling for her, like Elizabeth, not like the others. With the others, it was all about taking. With Elizabeth, maybe now with Victoria, he wants to give something. He just isn’t very good at knowing what to give.

  She closes her eyes and tilts her head to meet his hand rising along her back. When he reaches the nape of her neck he wraps his fingers around it gently easing the tension from her muscles. Her head falls forward to let him, already responding to the skill of his touch. In bed, he knows exactly what to give. It is out there in the world where he gets a little lost.

  “Is there anything I need to know about you?” With her history, she might have concerns with sex that need discussion.

  “I can’t have your weight on top of me at all and I can’t be restrained in any way.” She meets his eyes with her own. “Thanks for
asking that, Callum.”

  She gets up and turns off the bedside light but opens the curtains to let the moonlight in. She releases her hair from the tie and carefully, to avoid his incision, climbs on top of him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He lifts her tank over her head and she does the same with his gray tee shirt. His hands rest on her waist and hers lay over his chest while they both pause and feel the power in this moment.

  He thinks she is more than he expected in every way. Strength and generosity flow from her despite her pain. He takes her in with his eyes. The moonlight shines over her shoulder and glows around her hair. It looks darker, redder in this light. Her fair skin is like cream and feels like silk under his hands. He hesitates kissing her or touching her. For a moment, looking at her is enough. He can feel his defenses falling away and even though it scares the shit out of him, it is probably inevitable. This can’t just be sex. And just like that, he loses his hold.

  “You are so beauti…” he starts to say, but she stops him with her mouth on his. Her tongue finds his and she tastes like honey, intoxicating him more than a kiss should. Damn it.

  Although he has been with nearly a dozen women since Elizabeth, he has not kissed one. Just Victoria. He is motionless as Victoria explores his mouth with her own. She would hate him if she knew the choices he has made these last months. He almost wants to protect her from himself. She’ll regret this, he is sure of it. All women do. But he is no saint and he doesn’t stop it.

  He comes unfrozen and pulls her closer to him. Finally he can touch every inch of her skin, every curve and angle he has been dreaming of since the day they met. Her breathing deepens in his ear. This is where he knows best. No doubts follow him into bed.

  When she unties the string on his pants, Callum pulls back and lays her down. He finds his way over her with his mouth, his tongue. He quickly learns what she likes and slides from the bed taking her pants with him. His tongue leads on the decent of her body and finally he pushes her legs over his shoulders, lifting her hips to bring her closer to his mouth. The tension in her calves dissipates quickly and her sharp intake of breath encourages him on. She hasn’t been in this position many times in her life and he has. He is a man who is all about taste and this is what he has been waiting for. He knows what he is doing and, before long, she comes with a pillow stuffed in her mouth to muffle her sounds.

  He gives her a moment to catch her breath while he finishes undressing, then he picks her up and brings her to the leather chair where she can sit above him, and she won’t have to bear his weight. She hands him a condom because she is a smart, prepared woman. She guides him inside of her and as they move together, he immediately thinks of Elizabeth. He thinks Elizabeth was nothing and Victoria is everything.

  They move together like they have done this a thousand times before, together. Elizabeth leaves his thoughts after just a moment. He holds Victoria’s face because he wants to watch her when she comes this second time. Her eyes close as she finds her way and when she does, she whispers his name, “Callum.” It fills his heart in a way it has never been filled before. He feels like he could climb mountains. This is what falling really feels like. He closes his eyes tight when he comes and lays his forehead against hers. He has just one thought. Fuck, I love her. He clenches his eyes for a long time after, regretting nothing but feeling like a school boy after his first lay. This isn’t love, this is orgasm, just really good orgasm. He lies to himself. I don’t love. Fucking and cooking, that’s all I do.

  “Callum?” she asks searching his eyes. “Is it your leg?”

  He wants to say, It is my fucking heart, damn it, but he doesn’t. “No. That was just amaz..” She stops him with her lips on his again. She won’t let him talk.

  They dress just in case Marina wakes up, and lie together on Callum’s bed. They face each other and stare into each other’s eyes in a way that does not feel casual. Victoria smooths his new beard and he plays with the curls resting on her shoulder.

  “I’m glad Marina took the room down the hall,” Callum says, tucking Victoria into his shoulder. Maybe I can be good to her. Callum catches himself wondering what she is thinking and suddenly wants to jump out the window.

  “Jesus Christ,” he says before he can stop himself. He’s on a rollercoaster and the bottom just dropped out.

  “What?” She gets up, alarmed.

  “Please ignore me. I’m already getting weird. And I never get weird.”

  “Are you regretting it?” she asks sounding hurt.

  “No. Not for a single second. But I don’t do this. I don’t gaze into a woman’s eyes. I don’t snuggle. I don’t wonder. I don’t do any of this.”

  She giggles out loud.

  “You are fucking laughing at me?” He is disgusted. “Shush, you’ll wake Marina.”

  “Callum, are you feeling actual human feelings?” She mocks him.

  He wants to protest but can’t.

  “Callum, for a thirty year old man, you are a hopeless romantic. Sweetie that was great sex. And we are becoming really great friends. But that’s it, okay?”

  Damn her.

  “First of all, I don’t know what you are talking about. Secondly, what is love, if not great sex between great friends?” He really does not know the answer. And then he realizes he said love aloud. He is completely out of control.

  The question stops her giggling. She doesn’t have an answer either and the use of that word is not lost on her. “Well that wasn’t weird for about four minutes,” she says moving toward the door. “Best affair ever, Callum.”

  He hops to the door to stop her exit. “What do you mean? That’s it?”

  “You’re blocking me, Callum. Do not block me,” she warns. He moves away from the door.

  “Don’t go Victoria,” he says as she walks past, into her own room and closes the door.

  Callum is left standing alone.

  Victoria wakes up later than intended. It was a late night. She can smell the pancakes and bacon. There is always bacon. When she passes Callum’s room, the bed is made and his suitcase is no longer in the closet but against the wall by the window. She tiptoes in to see if he has packed and he has not. She wonders if he is taking his mother’s ticket and flying back to England. She sits on the edge of the bed and tries to be honest with herself. She tries to let go of her fear and desire and just be honest. What do I want? Honesty is too difficult with bacon in the air so she goes down to the kitchen.

  They are all seated at the kitchen table. Caroline is dressed in a red suit even at this early hour, formal as usual. Victoria says her good mornings and takes a seat. She gets a cool hello from Callum and bites into a pancake. They are delicious as always. My god he cooks. He makes her daughter happy. He is unbelievable looking. He is fantastic in bed. He is shockingly considerate. He’s absolutely perfect. Except for all the ways he isn’t. He’s shallow, unemployed, in love with another woman and hiding out here from a very different life in England.

  “Callum, we will leave in thirty minutes,” Caroline states. She rarely asks questions.

  “George,” Callum says pointedly. “Is it okay with you if we leave in thirty minutes since you are driving?”

  “Of course it is. Anything you need, Caroline” he says to keep the peace.

  “Are you leaving us already Caroline?” Victoria asks.

  Caroline grimaces slightly at Callum. You tell her, that face says.

  “Mother has decided to go on to Austin to see my sister, a woman she has no biological connection to whatsoever.” He is angry.

  “Oh, well isn’t that nice? She is your sister and if things were different, she would have been a part of your life. She could have been like a daughter to Caroline, right?” Victoria says, not really understanding why Callum is so annoyed.

  “Exactly Vicky. Thank you. She is my stepdaughter and I would like to get to know her better.” All goodwill was lost with the Vicky.

  “Her name is Victoria, Mother. She prefers Victoria.”


  “I apologize Victoria,” she overly annunciates the name of course. “I don’t understand why you are so bothered by my going to Austin, Callum.”

  “Girls, maybe we can finish our breakfast in front of the TV,” George says lifting his plate and rising to give them privacy.”

  “Please George stay,” Callum takes George’s plate from his hand, centering it firmly on the placemat.

  Marina watches Callum and his mother’s back and forth with the excitement of a spectator at a Wimbledon match. Victoria tries to focus on her pancakes, but she is fascinated too. Aside from the first days in the hospital, they have seen very little in the way of irritation from Callum. He looks like he is very quietly seething. Victoria wonders if this is the British way. Hold in ninety-five percent and let the last five percent show.

  “You are going to Austin because you are angry that I won’t come back to England with you. You are again punishing me. Your means of punishment are certainly getting more creative, I have to hand it to you, Mother. You were marvelous with the strap but this, surprisingly, hurts more.”

  Victoria sits up straighter in her chair. “You are staying?” she asks and a smile, brighter and more telling than she would like, sneaks out.

  “George has asked me to stay for the immediate future and I have accepted. Do you have any reservations?”

  Callum’s statement lies heavily over the table. Victoria thinks George wants Callum to be there when he dies so Victoria and Marina are not alone.

  Callum seems to realize the unintended weight of his words and backpedals to soften their meaning. “George has purchased a building with a wonderful storefront downtown. We are considering going into business together.” Callum says a little defensively.

  The jaws of two grown women and a teenage girl drop in unison.

  “Are you both comfortable with this arrangement?” Callum asks Marina and Victoria. They both nod despite their shock.

  Caroline is the first to find her voice. “Do you mean to tell me you are staying here in Asheville, North Carolina? The United damn States of America to be a shopkeeper.” While it is worded as a question, it is not a question.