I wrinkled my nose in surprise. “I bet you would have.”
“No,” Riley said, “I mean it. This was your idea, and you had the vision and the smarts to see it through. Give yourself some credit, Char. You deserve it.”
My sister didn’t give praise lightly. I knew she meant it. “Well… Thanks.” My heart swelled with happiness but it sank again as I watched Riley head outside, dust the snow from her Volkswagen, and warm her car up. Sean wasn’t here and he wasn’t coming.
And I was just going to have to deal with that.
Good thing we were slammed all week, because he didn’t show up to run again. He didn’t call or text me, either. His silence was message enough: the friend zone was not for him.
I could accept that. What I couldn’t tolerate was how much I missed him. How lonely I felt without talking to him. We’d only been back in each other’s lives for a short amount of time, but Sean had already become important to me.
Maybe he’d never stopped. Perhaps I needed to put my big-girl panties on and just recognize that fact, once and for all.
Finally, after an incredibly hectic week, it was Christmas Eve. I had a big order ready for Liberty Quinn. I kept holding my breath all day, perking up every time the door opened, hoping that Sean would come in to pick up the order. Instead, his buddy Matthew and a very-pregnant Liberty came in just before we closed.
“I’m sorry we’re late—it’s been a busy day!” Liberty said, her cheeks flushed.
“Don’t worry! How are you? Are you feeling okay?”
Liberty rested her hand on her belly as Matthew grabbed all the boxes. “I’m good. I saw the doctor…he said any day, now!”
“Aw. I’m so excited for you,” I said. My disappointment was overrun by well wishes for Liberty, who I truly liked.
“How’re you?” Matthew asked pointedly.
I shrugged, not really knowing what to say. “We’re busy, so that’s been good. Otherwise it’s been sort of…quiet.”
Matthew just stood there, waiting. Liberty smiled at me awkwardly. If they weren’t going to say anything, I guess I was going to have to suck it up… “How is he?” I asked, embarrassed heat creeping up my neck. “Sean?”
“So-so,” Liberty offered.
“You should probably talk to him,” was all Matthew said.
“Do you think he wants to? Talk to me?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Matthew said. “Wait—can you come here for a second?”
“Uh, sure?” I came around the corner and stood next to Matthew.
Then he leaned down and sniffed me.
“Ew Matthew,” Liberty said, “Gross!”
I looked up at him. “Are you done?” I asked.
Matthew clapped me on the shoulder. “We’re good,” he said, and smiled at me.
“Merry Christmas, Charlotte. And my apologies for Matthew, even though I have no idea what he was just doing,” Liberty said, rolling her eyes.
“Merry Christmas.”
“And yeah—you should probably talk to Sean,” Liberty smiled at me warmly. “He hasn’t said anything, but he seems kind of down. And it’s Christmas…I hate to see anybody sad around Christmas.”
With that, they were gone. Riley came out, wiping flour from her face. She cranked up the song that was playing, U2’s “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)”—one of my favorites. “Quitting time!” she called. “We did it!”
“Yeah, we did.” I smiled at her, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Sean. I stared out the window, watching Liberty and Matthew drive off.
“I gotta go,” I said, after a minute. Tomorrow was Christmas, so we were closed. I could come back and clean up then. “Go home. I’ll clean tomorrow!”
She looked confused. “It’s Christmas Eve! Where are you going?”
“Running,” I said, and I started right then, as soon as I was out the door and on the sidewalk. The cold wind bit my face as I headed down Main Street. Good thing I wore sneakers and a sports bra to work.
Riley stuck her head out the door behind me. “Be careful!” she called. “It’s supposed to start snowing hard!”
The snow started to fall just then, but I welcomed it as the flakes fell on my warming cheeks. I ran down the hill, away from town. Toward Sean’s.
I’d spent so long running away from him, it felt good to finally know I’d changed course. And it was my choice. I didn’t know what he was going to say, I didn’t know if he’d even want me near him, but I’d been facing the truth about myself and I had to tell him what I’d learned.
Because I was, finally, acting like an adult. And being an adult meant that you had to be brave, even though you knew you had a big, fat chance of failing.
I tried not to think about that as I flew down the road to his house, my lungs burning, my legs pumping. Because now that I finally knew what I wanted, I didn’t want to waste another second.
SEAN
I’d told my parents I was having dinner with the Quinns tonight. I’d told Liberty I was having dinner with my parents. The truth was, I just wanted to be alone. I’d go to my parents’ tomorrow, endure the big family dinner we had every year. Usually I looked forward to it. This year, the holidays weren’t the same. I was fine being without Megan, which surprised me.
I wasn’t fine about being without Charlotte, which didn’t surprise me at all.
But I didn’t think about her as I headed down the beach for a quick run. After this, I was taking a hot shower, ordering Chinese delivery, and spending the evening regarding my fire. Alone. It was time I got used to it.
I hadn’t gone too far down the beach when I heard a voice behind me, barely audible above the winter surf. “Sean!” I turned and saw Charlotte running toward me full throttle, as if she were sprinting at the Olympic trials.
I caught her when she got to me. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
“I’m fine. I’m sort of fine.” She leaned over, trying to catch her breath.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked. I refused to get my hopes up. Absolutely refused.
“I had to see you,” she said, chest still heaving. “I had to tell you something.”
I watched her, waiting.
She watched me back for a second, probably wondering what I was thinking but then she just shook her head. “Merry Christmas, Sean.”
I laughed. “You ran over here to wish me Merry Christmas?”
She nodded. “And to ask what you were doing for New Years. Do you have plans?” She still hadn’t caught her breath.
“Not yet.”
“Would you like to spend New Year’s with me? As my…date?” Now it looked as though she was holding her breath.
“Not as someone perpetually stuck in the friend zone?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You don’t fit in the friend zone. Your muscles are too bulky.” She finally cracked a smile, even though she was still breathing hard.
“Well Charlotte. My muscles and I are honored. We’d love to be your date for New Year’s.” I smiled at her and took a step closer. “Do you have plans for tonight?”
She shook her head. “No. Gypsy and I were going to eat pasta and watch Christmas movies.”
“Would you like to bring Gypsy over for dinner and a movie?” I asked.
“I would love to. But can you drive me back to town to get him? I sprinted all the way here, and I don’t think I’m going to make it back.” She pushed her hair back from her face.
“My pleasure,” I said, and it was though I could feel my heart unfurl from the fist it’d tightened into over the past week…maybe over the past ten years. “My absolute pleasure.”
I drove her home, she took a quick shower, we grabbed Gypsy and some cookies and headed back to my place. I lit a fire, and the turned on all the Christmas lights, and Charlotte opened wine. The Chinese food was delivered and we watched Love Actually while we ate.
“I’m sorry about the other day,” she said, when the movie finished and we
’d cleared the dishes. “My ex-boyfriend called me. And he got me thinking.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Got you thinking what?”
“That I really need to get my act together.”
“I think you have your act together,” I said, softly. “Did he say anything to scare you?”
“No. He was just being a baby. But it made me realize that since we—you and me, I mean—were together, I haven’t been in a good place.” She pursed her lips and looked out the window. “And I want to be in a good place before I start anything new.”
“Anything?” I asked. “Or anyone?”
She looked at me and smiled ruefully. “I think you know what I mean.”
Just then my phone buzzed and I checked it, concerned that it could be a work emergency. Instead, it was a text from Matthew. I forgot to tell you. She is approved, he wrote. She passed the Buster test again today. Give her a chance to let you out of the dreaded friend zone.
“Did you see Matthew today?” I asked.
“Yeah—he, uh…he sniffed me.”
I started laughing. “He just wanted to make sure you were approved.”
“Am I?” she asked.
“I approved you. And he seconded it.”
She leaned back and smiled at me. “Well that’s good.”
I reached over and put my hand on her knee. “Listen…if you’re not ready, you’re not ready. But I missed you every day this week. I want to spend time with you—I want to at least try.”
“You do?” she asked, her voice hopeful.
“We should probably go on another real date before we break up.” I squeezed her knee. “I’m all about taking it slow. Because we’re both responsible, mature adults now and we’ve both been through a lot. Slow and steady wins the race.”
“Slow and steady might be the new sexy,” Charlotte said, a little breathlessly. “I want to try, too.” She gave me a long look and I motioned for her to come to me. She slid over onto my lap and kissed me. Long and deep, our tongues connecting. Finally.
I wanted to show her how I felt. Our tongues connected again. Electricity shot through me, and I ran my hand down her back, loving the feel of having her back in my arms after all these years.
But this was different. Because this time, not only did I know what I was doing, I also knew what being with her meant to me.
“I’d love it if you stayed,” I said. “But I’ll bring you home if you want. You tell me.”
“I want to stay.” She ran her fingertips along my jaw and then kissed me again.
That was all the encouragement I needed. I lifted her and carried her into the bedroom and then laid her gently, reverently, on the bed. My whole body was throbbing in anticipation.
“You have no idea how much I want you,” I said, my voice hoarse. I felt like ten years of need was pent up inside me.
Her eyes shone as she looked up at me. “Yes, I do. Because I feel exactly the same way.”
I leaned down to kiss her deeply. Then I grabbed her hand and placed it over my heart. “Merry Christmas, Charlotte.”
“Merry Christmas, Sean. Now give me my present.” She giggled beneath me. “I want it bad.”
“Deal,” I said, grinning as she unzipped my pants. “I hope you like it.”
“Oh, I know I like it. It’s not like you’re an easy guy to forget.” She tentatively wrapped her fingers around my cock, stroking me slowly. I moaned and moved against her palm. She got bolder, gripping me more firmly, her hands finding a rhythm. Then she leaned down and took the tip of me into her mouth.
“Woah, Charlotte,” I said hotly as she swirled her tongue around my tip and continued to work her hands on me.
“Stop,” I said, laughing and trying not to come all at the same time. I pulled her gently back up so we were face to face. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. I don’t want it to be over in less than a minute.”
She smiled at me. “I’m not going anywhere. You can have all the minutes that you want.”
“That might be the best Christmas present ever,” I said, lifting her sweater over her head. I kissed her and pulled back enough to look at her, stroking her black lacy bra reverently. “You're so beautiful.”
A huge smiled broke out over her face as she pulled me to her. My hands trailed down her silky skin to her lace underwear. I twisted the bikini strap in my fingers and put my cock in between her legs, rubbing against the lace. I’d wanted to be with her like this for so long. I’d missed the way our bodies felt against each other. Still, it was different now. It meant something different to me now, because I knew what it was like to be without her. I heard myself moan in pleasure. I rubbed against her, amazed but not at all surprised at how good she felt.
I undid her bra and cupped her breasts, licking and nuzzling her nipples. I wanted to bury myself inside of her. I tugged on the string of her bikini bottom until it was off, and I could feel her, warm and wet beneath me. My fingers found her clit and swirled it, playfully pinching it until she was moaning and writhing beneath me.
“Sean. Please.”
The fact that she wanted me was what I’d longed to hear. I grabbed a condom, quickly rolled it on, and secured my arm around one of her knees, opening her gorgeous body up for me.
My breath caught as I straddled her, overcome with desire but also with just…feeling.
“Babe. Use some of your minutes.” Charlotte smiled up at me and moved so that the tip of my erection was inside of her. She sighed in anticipation.
“Are you ready for me?” I asked.
Charlotte had that same smile on her face. “I’m more than ready. I’ve been waiting for what seems like forever.” She put her hands on my backside and eased me into her.
I paused as we caught our breath, getting adjusted to each other. And then I buried myself in her, her tight body stretching to accommodate me. Charlotte kept her hands on my ass, guiding me, and I relished the feel of finally being inside her again.
My thrusts became more urgent as waves of pleasure, of feeling, tore through me, taking me to the edge.
“Sean,” she moaned, “Sean…”
“I'm right there with you, babe.”
I could feel her start to unravel beneath me, her orgasm tightening her body around mine. I came in her hard, my body finding sweet release deep inside of hers.
Afterward, we lay together in a sweaty tangle of limbs. She leaned up and ran her fingertip down my face, beaming at me. “Best Christmas present ever,” she said. “I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me in the new year.”
“I can’t wait to show you,” I said, and I meant it.
I woke up to a text message from John. Jeremy Ian Quinn joined the family at 3:21 a.m. this morning, he wrote. He weighs nine pounds eight ounces…both mother and son are doing great. Then he sent a picture of the baby, who had chubby cheeks and little fists and was definitely the cutest baby ever.
I woke up Charlotte to show her.
“Aw,” she said, “He’s the cutest!”
“I know, right? A Christmas miracle.”
Charlotte grinned at me. “It really is a new beginning…”
“…For all of us.” I grinned back. “Merry Christmas, Charlotte.”
She leaned in and gave me a sweet kiss. “Merry Christmas, Sean.”
And then we drifted to sleep in each other’s arms, beginning what I hoped would be a long and happy holiday tradition.
About the Author
Leigh James is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. She is a vocal lover of strapping Alpha males in movies, books and real life, which makes her three kids roll their eyes and makes her husband feel appreciated. When she's not writing, you can usually find her reading or watching Outlander, Game of Thrones, and Vikings (see penchant for Alpha males, above). She has a degree in journalism from the University of New Hampshire (which is good for deadlines and word counts) and a law degree from Suffolk University School of Law (which sounds good in her au
thor bio).
You can sign up for Leigh’s mailing list at www.leighjamesbooks.com.
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Also By Leigh James
The Liberty Series
The Bad Judgment Series
The Escort Collection
Candy Cane Lane
Maggie Marr
1
Santa was high.
Higher than Clarissa could remember him ever being on any Christmas before this one. He leaned to one side as though about to fall from his sleigh. He was high and he was lopsided. The entire angle was off.
Clarissa stopped in the center of the sidewalk. A path that looked like powder sugar sprinkled over brick led to the front wrap-around porch, and up, up, up, above the third floor turret, near the kitchen chimney, higher than he’d ever been in Christmases past, was Santa.
“How in the hell did Daddy get that up there?” What was Mother’s problem? Sending a nearly seventy-year-old man up a snowy, slanted rooftop to place a plastic Santa and reindeer? At an angle. Jeez, Mother was bonkers . . . or Daddy had excellent life insurance . . . or both.
Both.
It was no use instructing Mother on her insanity and complete disregard for Daddy’s life, because Mother would simply say, “This is Candy Cane Lane, and we can’t disappoint our friends and neighbors.”
Incurring neighborly disappointment was a rather large concern for Mother, perhaps in the top ten on Eliza McGovern’s List of Shameful Acts. At the very least, top twenty.
Clarissa glanced behind her. The sun still clung to the horizon, so there was too much light for the cars to begin their slow processional down the street. No, the slow parade of cars to see Christmas lights, decorations, and giant old Victorian homes looking like huge old ladies glittering in their holiday finery didn’t begin until the cover of night.
Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology Page 30