“Oh thank God,” I said as we reached the park. I promptly threw myself down in the snow.
“Are you okay?” She peered down at me, her nose crinkling as she inspected me. “I thought you ran a lot.”
“I do. I just don’t usually run twelve miles.”
“We only ran five!”
“Right, but I also ran seven with Matthew this morning,” I admitted.
She chuckled. “So you just wanted to run with me, huh?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Want to do it again tomorrow?” she asked.
“I’d love to,” I said, and I meant it.
And for once, maybe because I was too exhausted, I didn’t let myself think about why that was such a bad idea.
Matthew was waiting for me when I got back to the house, sitting on my front steps with two beers.
“Is one of those for me?” I asked, hopefully.
“No—they’re for my other best friend,” Matthew joked.
Still sore, I winced as I sat down beside him and took the IPA. “What’s up? You hiding from your wife and kids, or from John?”
He took a swig of beer. “I wanted to talk to you. About life.”
I rolled my eyes and drank some beer. “I’m listening. Even though I wish I wasn’t.”
Matthew wagged a finger at me. “You’ve been through a lot. Megan was a total jerk and we all know that. But in the end, it was good that she showed her true colors. I never liked her, but that’s not an easy thing to tell a friend.”
“You never liked her because she never liked you,” I reminded him.
“She didn’t like me because I didn’t like her first…it was just like Buster. Did I ever tell you about my dog? Buster?”
I shook my head and drank more beer. I had no idea where he was going with this.
“Buster was my dog growing up and he liked everybody. You came into my house and said hi to him, he would roll over onto his back so you could scratch his belly. The dog didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Except when my dad’s business partner came over. Rick.”
“Okay…” I drank more beer, hoping this was going to make sense at some point.
“The only time Rick came over Buster went berserk, barking and growling at him. The dog pulled a nutty, going after Rick’s pant leg. Rick tried to kick him. He never came over the house again.” Matthew took a swig of beer. “Come to find out, Rick swindled my dad out of some money. He was a bad dude, and none of us knew it except for Buster. Buster saw it the whole time.”
I scrubbed my hand across my face. Matthew was the best person to have with you in a fight, because he was built like a meat locker and was loyal to a fault, but sometimes when he talked I didn’t know what the hell he meant. “Is there a point to this?” I asked.
“Yes. The point it, I’m like your Buster. I knew Megan was bad. You should let me meet Charlotte, so I can—”
“Sniff her?” I interrupted.
Matthew shrugged, appearing undeterred. “If she smells good, I’ll sniff her. But what I meant was, let me meet her so I can see if she’s cool or not. You don’t need any more drama this year. You need nice. You need fun. You need to get laid.”
“Is the lecture over now?” I asked.
Matthew nodded, pulling himself up and grabbing his beer. “For now. But you remember what I said: I’m your Buster. I promise to tell you the truth from here on out.”
“Great,” I said, as I watched his jog down the lane to his house. I took another swig of beer. Matthew was family, and family was awesome, but family could get all up in your business like no other. “Just great.”
6
CHARLOTTE
Sean and I met every day after work that week and went for a run. And then he asked me to go to his company Christmas party.
“You mean, like a date?” I asked. I blurted out the question before I could take it back.
“Um.” It looked like Sean was biting his cheek. Hard. “No. Not like a date.”
My stomach plummeted. “Oh.” I had absolutely zero idea what to say.
“Ugh.” Sean blew out a deep breath. “I don’t know why I said that—well, yeah I do—it’s because I was backpedaling. But it’s not what I meant. What I meant was, yes, like a date.” He paused for a beat, his face reddening. “If you could stand it.”
I punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Of course I could stand it. I don’t know why I asked you that—well, yeah I do. I wanted to know.” I felt a blush of my own start to creep up.
“Is that a yes?” Sean sounded skeptical.
“It was a hell yes,” I said, trying to make up for my initial lack of enthusiasm.
Sean smiled and shrugged. “Okay, then. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven.”
Flash forward to today, where Riley and I had closed up shop promptly at five, after we’d sent over the three dozen Christmas cookies that Liberty had ordered for the party. Then we’d proceeded to tear through the limited number of dresses in my closet.
“Too big,” she said of the first one.
“Too shiny,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the next one.
“Just right,” she cooed over the third. “You look beautiful and it shows off your body. Sean’s gonna have a heart attack when he sees you.”
“Stop!” I wailed. I tried on my heels with it and looked in the mirror. I sucked in a breath. “It’s a little tight…”
“That’s why God made Spanx,” Riley said.
I arched an eyebrow at her. “There is no way that God made Spanx. Maybe the devil did…” I wrestled the restricting undergarment up, pulled the dress back down and looked at myself in the mirror again. “Better. If only I could breathe.”
“You look gorgeous,” Riley said, “and you don’t need the Spanx.”
“They make me feel better. I mean, they don’t actually make me feel better—”
“I get it,” she laughed. “Either way, you look beautiful.”
I gave her a hug. “Thank you for helping. You know I’m a nervous wreck.”
“I think it’s good for you,” she said, hugging me back. “But have fun. It’s a Christmas party. At a mansion. With Sean, of the big muscles and the nice smile.”
Before I could swat her, my sister left me alone to take a shower and finish getting ready. I was, I realized as I applied my blush with shaky hands, completely petrified of being on an actual date with Sean. Because although we’d been running, and we’d had coffee, and we’d cyber-stalked my ex-boyfriend after dinner one night, everything had been just as friends. It’d been easy, and hanging out with him had been fun, and of course I’d been ogling his big muscles every chance I’d got, but there’d been no pressure.
Now there was a push-up bra and Spanx. And lipstick. All of that felt like pressure.
The doorbell rang and Gypsy, dozing on his bed, lifted his head. “Don’t worry, boy. I got it.” I grabbed my coat and opened the door.
“Hey,” Sean said, stepping inside. And then his jaw dropped as he looked me up and down. “Wow.”
“Is that…good?” I asked.
“Of course it is,” he said immediately. “Jesus Charlotte, I’m sorry. I’m acting like an animal. What I meant to say was ‘Hi. You look lovely, as usual.’”
“I was okay with wow,” I assured him.
“Okay then,” he said. “You totally look wow.”
“Thank you.” I grinned, feeling my nerves subside a little. “And you look handsome in a suit.”
“Thank you.”
We grinned at each other like a couple of teenagers, which was inappropriate, because we were old now. Still, I felt giddy as we said goodbye to Gypsy and locked up the house. I sat in Sean’s truck, admiring the Christmas lights from the passing houses.
“Are there going to be a lot of people at this party?” I asked. I’d been totally focused on being nervous about seeing Sean, and now that we were together, I started to worry about making small talk with strangers.
“Yeah�
�about fifty or so. Everyone’s nice. Plus, you made the cookies and everyone will love the cookies. Don’t sweat it.”
“Okay.” But my jitters increased as we pulled through the gate and past Sean’s house to the enormous mansion where John and Liberty lived.
Sean parked the car and reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’ve got your back,” he assured me. “Let’s just have fun.”
We went into the house, greeted at the entrance by a smiling and very pregnant Liberty, wearing a black velvet dress, her curls cascading down her shoulders. A tall, gorgeous man had his arm protectively around her shoulder. “Charlotte!” she cried, trying to throw her arms around me but bumping me with her belly instead. “Ugh, I’m sorry. My whole body’s out of whack!”
“You look beautiful,” I said, giving her a side hug. “You’re literally glowing. Thank you so much for having me.”
“Are you kidding?” she asked, her blue eyes popping. “We’re so excited that you’re here with Sean! This is huge! It’s all we’ve been talking about—”
“Liberty,” her husband interrupted her gently, “can I meet the poor girl before we launch into all the mortifying details?”
“Oh,” she said and laughed, “sure. Charlotte, this is my husband, John. He’s such a guy. He doesn’t love mortifying details the way that I do.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” John said warmly. “Please come in and feel free to hide from my wife. She’ll cross-examine you until midnight.” His eyes sparkled with warmth.
“I heard that!” she said.
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Of course you did, babe. You hear everything.”
Sean maneuvered me away from them and through the foyer, taking my coat. He hung it up as I ogled the enormous Christmas tree and the garland hanging tastefully around the grand room. “It’s so beautiful,” I whispered.
“Wait till you see the living room,” he said. “How about some wine?”
He offered his arm and I accepted it gratefully. Then a waiter came by with wine, and we met some more of his friends from work. And then I proceeded, against my better judgment, to have an incredibly good time.
The wine, the incredible decorations and the fun Christmas music worked their magic on me. Soon, Sean and I were dancing to Michael Buble’s “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and I found myself putting my cheek on his shoulder, completely lost in the moment.
Then a large hand clapped me on the back and I heard Sean groan. “This is Charlotte?” a voice boomed. I turned to find an enormous guy beaming at us, his wife rolling her eyes at his side. “She’s hot, dude!” he said to Sean.
“Charlotte,” Sean groaned, “this is my best friend, Matthew. You have my standing apology for his behavior. You’re going to need it.”
“Aw, c’mon.” Matthew turned to his pretty blonde wife, who was laughing and shaking her head. “You know you don’t have any competition, right babe? I’m just being supportive.”
“It’s fine. You’re crazy, but it’s fine.” She turned and smiled at me. “I’m Meredith. Please forgive my husband—he’s just excited for Sean.” She turned back to him. “Right, babe?”
“That’s right.” He grinned at her and pulled her into his arms, where they started dancing right next to us.
“The dancefloor’s feeling crowded,” Sean said to Matthew, who wouldn’t stop grinning at us.
“Aw, come on—don’t be a buzzkill,” Matthew said good-naturedly. “So…” Matthew said, continuing to talk through the music.
“So?” Sean asked.
“Charlotte, how do you know Sean?” he asked.
I briefly looked at Sean for guidance, but he was just shaking his head at his friend. “Um…we dated in high school. Sean was my first boyfriend.”
“Nice,” Matthew said, looking solemn. “And now?”
“And now we’re dancing,” I said, smiling at him nervously.
“How do you feel about that?” Matthew asked.
I heard his wife groan. “Have you been reading Men’s Health again?” she asked suspiciously.
He shot her a look and turned his attention back to me. I realized that Meredith and Sean were watching me, too.
I smiled at them bravely. “I feel great about it.” It was the truth.
Matthew nodded at me appreciatively. “Buster approves,” he told Sean.
“Huh?” I asked, but Sean’s face was turning red and Matthew was laughing too hard to answer me. The song ended and Sean laced his fingers through mine, leading me away from his friends.
“Where you going?” Matthew asked.
“It’s nothing personal,” Sean called, “I just need to get my date a drink!”
“I don’t need a drink,” I whispered to Sean as we headed toward the bar.
“I know,” Sean whispered back, “but I just wanted to keep you to myself for a little while longer.”
“Who’s Buster?” I asked.
Sean groaned. “Matthew’s dog when he was little. Long story.”
“I’ll hear it some other time, I guess.” I grinned at him, but then I noticed the time on a nearby stately grandfather clock. “I have to go soon—tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”
Sean held my hand and leveled his gaze on mine. “That’s a shame.”
Electricity crackled between us and I blew out a shaky breath. “Sucks to be a responsible adult.”
He smiled at me and brushed my lower lip with his finger. “No it doesn’t. I like you like this.”
Heat spread through me as I stood underneath his gaze. “You’re right—it doesn’t suck,” I agreed, a little breathlessly. “And I like you like this, too.”
We stood like that for a moment, with him leaning over me, as if I magnetic field was connecting us. There was certainly something holding us together; I wouldn’t have been able to tear myself away if I’d tried. I wished somewhat desperately that there was mistletoe above us so I had an objective excuse to launch myself at him.
“I should get you home,” Sean said. Ever the gentleman, he took a step back.
“Right.” I blew out a shaky breath. “Because we’re being responsible adults.”
“Maybe it does suck. A little.” He smiled at me and my heart did a cartwheel.
I smiled back. “I agree.”
“Since when were you so agreeable?” Sean asked, lacing his fingers through mine and leading me back out to the foyer.
Since I realized there wasn’t anybody better than you. “I figure, it’s Christmas. I should make an effort to be agreeable.” He helped me into my coat and we headed outside. The house looked amazing from the outside, all lit up. I could hear the ocean and felt the cold sting my cheeks. Sean squeezed my hand one last time as we looked at the house, standing together.
And I realized, all at once, that I was happy.
So I squeezed his hand back.
7
SEAN
It was good that she had to go to work, I reminded myself as I lay in bed that night. Even though I wished she was with me. For some reason, sleep eluded me. Probably because I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
After tossing and turning all night, I got up at the crack of dawn and threw on my running clothes. I wasn’t planning on running to the bakery, but that’s where I ended up—on Main Street, jogging down the sidewalk toward Charley’s, the sun just beginning to break over the horizon. I stopped, trying to catch my breath, wondering what the hell was up with me.
I’d warned myself about this. About not getting too wrapped up too soon. I’d loved Charlotte when I was younger—really loved her. She was my first love. Nothing quite compared to that. And when she left me, nothing quite compared to that particular heartache. Not even what Megan had done.
So here I was again, back at her doorstop. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same, I guess. But this time, we were adults. She’d grown up, too—I knew she had. Maybe with all the time that had passed, it was finally time for us…to figur
e out if there was time for us.
There was only one way to find out. Taking a deep breath, I went into the bakery.
Charlotte was behind the counter, dark circles under her eyes, looking pale. The way she looked was a sharp contrast to her vibrancy the night before “Hey?” I said. It came out sounding like a question.
She gave me a tired smile, but it fell flat. “Hey.”
I took a step toward her. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She was clearly lying. “What’re you doing here?”
I felt my cheeks start to flame, and not just from the four-mile run that had brought me to her door. “Uh…coffee. I went for a run and realized I needed a coffee.”
She nodded and went and poured me one. She put it on the counter. “It’s on the house,” she said. Her face looked pinched and she wouldn’t look at me.
“Thanks.” What the fuck?
“Well, I have to get back to work now,” she said, nodding at me jerkily. “Thanks again for last night. It was really fun.”
“Yeah,” I said, a rush disappointment flooding me. “Right.”
I grabbed the coffee and left before I could make an ass out of myself further. I’d clearly messed something up. I wracked my brain, running over the details from last night, but I couldn’t pinpoint what I’d done wrong. But it didn’t really matter, because it was obvious that something had gone sour: Charlotte had turned on me, put that big wall of hers back up.
I dumped my coffee in the trash and sprinted the whole way home, trying to outrun my miserable thoughts.
The ugly thoughts kept at me all day, though. There was no getting away from them, no escape from the sick feeling in my gut that I’d made some irrevocably wrong move.
Maybe I should have kissed her. Maybe I should have asked her to stay.
Maybe I should have stayed the hell away from her in the first place.
That last thought seemed like the winner, but I couldn’t focus on it: I’d had too many beers as I’d sat staring at my Christmas tree. She hadn’t called me all day. Not a text, not a word, nothing. And I’d sure as hell learned my lesson this morning; being over eager certainly wasn’t working out too well for me. There was no way I was calling her.
Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology Page 28