'Tis the Season

by Jennifer Gracen

  “No,” Charles cut in. “You were dealing with so much pain, and more loss, and a bad breakup, and . . . Lisette, anyone would’ve shut down from all that. Come on.”

  “Yeah, well . . . I called Karen, and she came and stayed with me for two weeks. I quit my job. I didn’t want to stay in the apartment, and I couldn’t have afforded it on my own even if I had wanted to stay. Karen insisted I move in with her, and she’s in upstate New York, near Rochester. So I went. She and her family took care of me for almost three months while I healed. Well, physically healed. The blood loss and the concussion took a lot out of me . . .”

  The large bay window appeared in her mind, clear as could be. She’d spent that winter lying in bed a lot, staring out the window beside her bed at the snowy ground outside, thinking, hurting, thinking . . . “And in the spring, when I was stronger, and I was functional and could be independent again, I started a different path. Forged a new life.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I just wanted to be left alone. So yes, I guess you could say I hid in other people’s families, since I figured I’d never have one of my own.”

  Charles’s jaw clenched so hard, a muscle jumped. “I want to find this bastard and kill him. I swear to God. How could anyone . . . when you needed . . . when you’d just . . . I mean . . .” He shook his head and huffed furiously. “I can’t wrap my head around it! Lisette . . .” He reached for her hands, pulling them into his. “He was dead wrong. He just hit you when you were at your most vulnerable.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you. But back then, I had nothing, Charles. No one but Karen, really . . . In less than two weeks, I lost everything I had. I was devastated. And so I . . . saw myself the way he did.”

  Shaking his head, Charles’s hand lifted to hold her cheek. “He was so wrong. Jesus, I want to find him. I want to hunt him down like the animal he is and—”

  “No!” she said quickly. “Don’t even say that. Because I know very well you could if you wanted to, with the power you have. I don’t ever want to see him again. I don’t care where he is now or what he’s doing.” She sniffed hard, trying to stem the tears, trying to compose herself. “So. Now you know everything. I know it’s a horrible sob story, but it was a long time ago, and like you said, I’m fine now.”

  “You’re not fine, sweetheart.” His eyes scanned her face, searching. “If talking about it still brings you to tears, it still hurts. And of course it would. Horrible things happened. And that man . . . He’s not a man. He’s scum.”

  “You’re right. But I didn’t even date after him,” she said, again sniffing back the unwanted tears. “I didn’t want to get hurt like that ever again. Besides, I didn’t think any man my age would want me. If he wanted a family, I could never give that to him. So I . . . yeah.” She hiccupped out a watery laugh. “Basically, I’ve been a nun. Eleven years, give or take.”

  Charles shook his head, then dropped his gaze to his glass. “I’m disgusted with myself right now, even more than before. God, if I’d known—”

  “Stop it,” she said. “I could’ve said no. But I didn’t.”

  At that his head lifted, and he peered into her eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

  Oh, God. Because I’m crazy about you. But she could tell him most of the truth and still withhold the one crucial piece. “Because you felt so good,” she whispered. “Because of the chemistry we’ve admitted we have. It was instant; it was like wildfire. I got swept away by it.” She couldn’t believe she was saying these things, but they were pouring out. “Because no one had touched me like that in forever, and because I . . . at that moment, I was just so happy to feel something again. I’d been numb for so long. And I . . .” She shook her head, not able to say the rest. I wanted you. I’ve had a thing for you since I met you. You’re beautiful and sexy and a good, decent man, and for that one moment in time, I wanted to be with you. She shot to her feet. “I’ve said too much. Way too much. Oh my God . . .” She looked around wildly, pulling her robe tighter around herself, needing to escape.

  He was at her side in a second. “Don’t run away. Come here.” He tried to pull her into his arms, but she resisted. “Lisette . . .” His eyes radiated kindness. “Goddammit, you just need a hug. Let me.”

  The velvety yet insistent tone of his voice melted what was left of her reserve. He drew her in, nudged her head to rest on his chest, and wrapped her in his embrace. “Shhhh,” he whispered. “It’s all right.” The delicate tenderness of it all brought the tears back and made them spill over. As if her strings had been cut, she melted into him.

  “That’s it,” he whispered, holding her close. “Shhhh.”

  Her mind went blank, and she welcomed it. For a few seconds, the incredible feeling of being held and soothed was like a lifeline, and she let herself take it.

  “That’s all in the past now,” he murmured against her hair, rubbing her back in slow circles. “You made it through all that, and you’re standing tall. You made a good life for yourself. Don’t you know how strong you are?”

  “Army training,” she whispered hoarsely. The tears leaked from her eyes; her boss was holding her, and she was too raw and drained to care.

  He chuckled gently and rested his chin on top of her head. “Maybe so. But you’re also one of the sweetest women I’ve ever known. You have such kindness, such warmth.” His hand swept up and down her back. “That bastard couldn’t kill that in you. No one can. Because you have a beautiful heart, Lisette.”

  Stop saying such wonderful things, dammit. How am I supposed to keep myself steeled against you when you’re so sweet? She went to pull away.

  “Shhhh. Relax,” he murmured, not releasing her. “Everyone needs some comfort sometimes. We’re all only human.” His large, warm hand swept up and down her back again, gentle and assuring, as the other encircled her waist. “Know what I think? That night, with you? I needed comfort. It’s the truth. I was feeling pretty damn sorry for myself that night.” He snorted and added, “It was the absolute wrong way to seek out comfort, of course. But ultimately, you were there for me.” He smoothed his hand down her hair, down her back. “I know you’re not feeling sorry for yourself, and I’m not feeling sorry for you. But your pain . . . it’s palpable. So lean on me. I’m not your boss right now, I’m . . . tonight, I’m just a friend. Okay?”

  His words rocked her to the core. She’d never thought she’d meet a man capable of such kindness, such generosity of spirit—and she hadn’t expected it from him, not like this. Without really being aware of it, her arms squeezed him tighter, welcoming his embrace and returning it. God, he felt so good. Strong, and sure, and good.

  “As for your past,” he continued, still stroking her back, “and everything that happened . . . Honestly, other than how sorry I am, I don’t even know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” she said. Suddenly her mind reeled. She’d told him the truth, all of it, and he was holding her. Trying to soothe her. It felt so good to let herself talk about her demons and not be shunned, but to receive comfort from someone like this . . . She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d really been held. It felt wonderful. It was heavenly.

  He’s your boss, a voice hissed in her head. What the hell are you thinking? Her stomach roiled and clenched. Jesus, what was she doing? Hugging her boss, crying all over him, spilling her deepest secrets? Showing him herself at her most fragile? Humiliation washed over her, cold and cruel. She jerked back, untwisting herself from his embrace.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, brow furrowed.

  “You’re never going to look at me the same way again,” she choked out, anxiety kicking in. “I should just resign right now.”

  “Whoa, stop.” His hands lifted to hold her face and make her look into his eyes. “I’d never judge you based on any of this.”

  “You say that now,” she said. “Until you think about it some more. Poor Lisette and her sob story—”

  “Stop that!” he ordered. “I care. I’
m not looking at you like some broken china doll. Do you think so little of me?”

  “No,” she whispered. “That’s the problem. I think the world of you. So I—”

  Still cradling her face, he pressed his lips to hers, stopping her words with a fiercely tender kiss. He sipped from her lips, slow and savoring, before he whispered against them, “I think the world of you too.”

  His mouth consumed hers, and her mind went hazy. These weren’t the hard, consuming, hungry kisses from that first night. These kisses were long and sweet and sumptuous. Heat flooded her, making her senses reel. He kissed her once more before pulling back to look into her eyes. “I’m so sorry for what you went through. And you’re right, I don’t look at you the same way. But not in the way you implied. Now that I know what you’ve gone through, I have more respect for you than ever. I admire your resilience. Your strength. Your incredible sweetness, in spite of all that happened.” He dropped the gentlest kiss on the top of her head.

  She shook her head, wanting to believe him, but unable to let herself. She was trembling. “Let me go. I should go.”

  “Look at me,” he commanded. Again he held her face, to still her.

  She did as he asked, and her breath caught in her lungs at what she saw in his eyes. The adoration, the sincerity, were unmistakable.

  “I think you’re amazing,” he murmured. “Amazing and warm and wonderful. And so beautiful that sometimes it hurts to look at you, because I want you, and I know I shouldn’t.”

  A startled gasp flew out of her. He leaned in slowly . . . and cradling her head in his hands, pressed his lips to her forehead. Her eyes slipped closed as he lingered there; she was stunned into stillness by the exquisite tenderness of his gesture.

  “But we’ll talk about that another time. Right now, you must be exhausted,” he said against her skin. His hands lowered to rub her arms. “Let me walk you up to your room. Help get you into bed.”

  She startled, looking up at him in shock.

  “Not like that!” he exclaimed. “No! I just . . .” He gently grasped her shoulders. “I just want to get you into your bed and make sure you get some sleep.”

  “Why are you being like this with me?” she whispered in consternation.

  “Because your sadness makes me want to comfort you. It’s really that simple.” Something flickered in his eyes. “Also, because I truly care, which isn’t as simple. You aren’t the only one who’d felt numb for a long time, and now . . .” He cleared his throat. “But most of all, because right now, you need me to be here, and I’m here.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “You were there for me when I needed you. Reciprocation is more than fair play, don’t you think?”

  “I’m too tired to argue that line of thought,” she said. “Actually, all of a sudden, I’m too tired to do much of anything.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her from the study. By the time they reached the stairs, she felt the adrenaline begin to ebb and drain from her limbs. By the time they reached her bedroom, the exhaustion had overwhelmed her, and it was hard to even untie the sash of her robe. She managed to slip it off and lay it over the chair, then went right to her bed and slid beneath the covers. The pillows felt like heaven beneath her achy head.

  Charles was right there, pulling the covers up to her chin. He leaned over her, sweeping loose tendrils of her hair back from her face. “Feels good to lie down after all that, I bet.”

  “Mmmm.” She felt hazy, half-asleep already. She had nothing left.

  He bent to kiss her forehead, again so gently it made her heart smile. “Good night, Lisette. Sleep well. In fact, sleep late tomorrow. That’s an order.”

  “But the kids . . .” She yawned. “School in the morning.”

  “I’ll get them there,” he said. “You sleep as long as you need to, okay? I mean it. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you. It’s totally an order.”

  “If you insist,” she murmured, her eyelids drooping.

  “I insist.”

  “Oh, all right. Charles, wait . . .” With great effort, she opened her eyes enough to meet his. “Thank you for everything tonight.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled sweetly. “Good night.”

  She felt cool air, the lack of his presence beside her. Then she heard the flick of the light switch, and the room went dark. From heavy-lidded eyes, she saw him in shadow, standing in her doorway . . .

  He stood there, leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, watching over her as she quickly fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lisette woke up with a start. Tears leaked from her eyes, and she swiped them away. Her dreams had been so visceral, especially the last one . . . She could smell her mother’s perfume; her mother had felt so real, it was as if she’d visited. It’d been a long time since Lisette had dreamed about her mother looking healthy and vital, not emaciated and sick as the cancer had ravaged her at the end of her life. And seeing her healthy for the first time in a long time was a comfort. Maybe her mom had visited her in her dreams, just to reassure her after such an emotional night.

  Oh, God. Last night she’d told Charles everything. And, holy shit, the kids! She had to get the kids to school and—oh, no, it was nine-thirty. While she looked wildly around the room, she noticed a folded paper taped to her inside doorknob. She flung back the covers and all but jumped across the room to grab it and read it.

  Good morning, Lisette.

  I took the liberty of turning off your cell phone and turning off the alarm on your clock, so you would sleep as long as you needed to. Don’t worry, I managed to get my own kids to school, and on time. I also asked Tina not to disturb you under any circumstances because you hadn’t felt well last night (told her you had a terrible headache, just so we have the same story) and you needed to sleep. Everything’s fine.

  I’m going to be home late tonight. Have a meeting up in Connecticut and likely won’t be home until after 9:00.

  I hope you’re okay. Hope a good night’s sleep recharged you.

  Go get something to eat and have a good day. Call me if you need anything.

  Charles

  Lisette sank onto her mattress and read the note again twice before reaching for her cell phone on the nightstand. She turned it back on, curled up in a more comfortable position, and stared out the window. It was one of those overcast autumn days, but the sun behind the clouds added a silvery glare. She could see the maples and oaks beyond, lining the perimeter of the property, stunning in their peak crimson and gold glory.

  Charles had taken care of everything. Last night, he’d taken care of her. Today, he’d covered for her, and had even done a part of her job for her, and had left her a sweet note on top of it all . . .

  With a deep sigh, she clutched her pillow and held it close. God help her, she loved that man. She couldn’t deny it: she’d fallen in love with him last night, helplessly and deeply. She could almost pinpoint the exact moment she’d felt it hit and swallow up her heart. When he’d held her and leaned in and kissed her forehead, lingering with such tenderness, such earnest sweetness . . . After that, her poor heart never had a chance.

  And even though a part of her wanted to leave while she still could, before she spent the rest of her life loving a man she could never have, she was so grateful that he wanted her to stay. She loved the kids, and she was in love with him, and even just being part of their lives and in their presence would be enough for her. That was her sad truth, and it would stay her most guarded secret. If she could just keep her head on straight and continue to do her job well, she’d be able to stay with them all for a few more years, and at least she’d have that much.

  * * *

  Charles felt himself start to relax the instant Tess opened her door and hugged him. His siblings were the only people in the world he trusted completely, could let down his guard with, could laugh and just be himself with, with no worry over how he was being perceived, if what he said or did was on or off the
record. More than just his brothers and sister, they were his closest friends and confidants; they were the only ones who truly understood what it was to be a Harrison. The pressures had been heavier on him than on the others, but they all understood that and gave him that extra measure of support and respect for it. Even Pierce; Charles and Pierce had forged a new relationship since Pierce had returned to New York, and Charles was glad for it.

  As Charles entered the living room, Dane got up to embrace him, and Pierce crossed the room for a quick but genuine handshake. Pierce lacked Dane’s natural amiability and warmth, but after years of angry self-isolation, he’d finally edged his way back into the fold. Not with their father, hell no, but with his siblings. Charles’s heart lifted at the sight of Pierce relaxing with them, something that would have been unthinkable only a year ago.

  “I heard you were bringing something sweet,” Dane said. “Give it up.”

  Charles lifted the bakery box in his hand for all to see. “Rainbow cookies from Roberto’s.”

  “Yesssss,” Dane said, taking the box with greedy hands. “Gimme gimme.”

  Laughing, Tess took the box from him. “Give me that. We let you have this, there won’t be any left within the hour.”

  “I’ll be good,” Dane said, batting his eyes coquettishly.

  Tess snorted and walked toward the kitchen. “What are you drinking, Charles?” she asked over her shoulder.

  He glanced at the bottles of IPA on the coffee table and said, “Whatever they are, looks fine.”

  “It’s good stuff; you’ll like it,” Dane assured him. He grinned, gave Charles another slap on the back, and sat in one of the three lushly cushioned armchairs.

  “Drinking beer from a bottle, Tripp?” Pierce teased. “How very bourgeois of you. Awesome.” He flopped down on the couch, reaching for his bottle before stretching his legs out. He rested his socked feet on the table and crossed one ankle over the other. “How goes it, biggest brother?”