Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology

by Christine Bell

  Ashley gritted her teeth as she hid behind her menu and contemplated murder. After all, she was a smart woman. She was fairly sure she could make Eric and Taylor disappear and cover her tracks. Ryan might even agree to help.

  Here they were, surrounded by romantic lighting, soft music, and the mouthwatering scents of Italian food, and all she could think about was how long they had to stay before they could ditch her family.

  They’d driven separately from Eric and Taylor and had been here twenty minutes, having encountered a wait at the door. In that short amount of time, Eric, who clearly didn’t believe and Ryan’s and her story, managed to slip in some kind of comment about how Ryan had treated Ashley in high school at least three times. Taylor, meantime, practically had them married off, if her questions about their future dating plans were any barometer.

  “Pssst.” Ryan scooted over on the bench and joined his raised menu to hers, putting a wall between them. He placed his lips at her ear and whispered. “Houston, we have a problem.”

  “Ya think?” she hissed back.

  He laid his arm along the back of the booth behind her. “Taylor’s on board, but Eric doesn’t believe we’re into each other. That’s why he’s acting like this.”

  He didn’t sound offended or frustrated, more amused. Ashley turned her head only to become entangled in Ryan’s dark gaze. The man was truly attractive in a breath-stealing way, as her starved lungs could attest on a regular basis, but what she liked best, if she were being honest with herself, were all the indications of his fun-loving personality. Especially those laugh lines set into the deeply tanned skin around his eyes—a hallmark of outdoor work.

  “Hey…you have flecks of gold in your eyes.” Had her thoughts popped out of her mouth? What happened to her filters?

  Those sexy-as-sin laugh lines deepened as he grinned in response. “Maybe I’m good as gold, and it’s showing.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Ashley shocked herself as a giggle escaped her.

  “What are you two talking about behind there?” Taylor asked from across the table.

  Before Ashley responded, Ryan moved the hand resting on the bench behind her to lift a strand of her hair, exposing her neck. He leaned forward and trailed a series of butterfly kisses over her shoulder, now exposed by the wide neckline of her tunic, and up her neck. “You smell so damn amazing, Hughes,” he murmured in her ear, his warm breath sending a shudder of delight through her.

  “It’s my shampoo,” she mumbled, unable and unwilling to pull away from his touch.

  He shook his head. “It’s you.”

  A hand snagged Ashley’s menu and lowered it. Ryan looked over, but didn’t pull away, his hand now playing through her hair.

  “Hey,” Taylor’s grin said she noticed Ashley’s flushed cheeks and the intimate way he touched her. “Don’t forget we’re here, you two.”

  Eric, meanwhile, watched closely. “Ashley never did like public displays of affection,” he lectured, missing Taylor’s questioning glance.

  His claim wasn’t true, anyway. Eric didn’t like it, not her.

  Not wanting to start a “he said/she said” argument, Ashley didn’t address Eric. Instead she turned to Ryan and gave him a slow, soft kiss. “I could get used to it,” she murmured, in a voice supposedly for his ears only, but which she deliberately pitched to carry across the table to her annoying ex-boyfriend.

  Looked like she’d have to put on more of a show than she thought tonight, with Ryan’s help, of course. Problem was, his acting chops were better than hers, and her heart might be in danger of believing the lie. As long as she remembered this was all play, she’d be fine. Another shiver shimmied through her as he stroked a finger down the side of her face, his focus solely on her, as though they were the only two people in the room.

  What had she started?

  Taylor cleared her throat. “I think I’m going to have the spaghetti and meatballs. What about you, Ash?”

  She and Ryan pulled apart, the action appearing reluctant on his side as he left his arm draped across the back of the bench behind her. For her part, she needed the space.

  “The fettucine alfredo here is excellent,” Ryan said.

  She flicked him a surprised glance. “That’s my favorite dish.”

  “I remember.”

  The waiter finally appeared beside her, snagging her attention. “Can I start anyone off with a glass of wine, or, perhaps, a bellini?”

  “Wine sounds good,” Taylor said, with a sweet look for the waiter. “I like white. What would you recommend?”

  “The Napa Pinot Grigio is particularly nice.”

  “I’ll take that.”

  “So will I,” Ashley tacked on. She could use some alcohol to survive the night.

  Eric’s face pinched. He waited to speak until the waiter left. “Is wine such a good idea?” he asked Ashley. “You know how much of a lightweight you are.” He gave Ryan a commiserating grin. “I mean, after Friday night, you agree, don’t you?”

  What had gotten into him? He wasn’t usually such an ass. Across the table, Taylor’s eyebrows flew up. If she didn’t hit Eric soon, Ashley might dump her wine over his head.

  Ryan reached under the table and squeezed her thigh. “Friday involved a large amount of tequila and a good reason to party. One glass of wine won’t hurt her. I’m sure Ashley knows what she can handle. She’s a big girl.”

  Ashley’s anger seeped away in the face of Ryan’s show of solidarity. That, plus she found his large, warm hand on her thigh much more interesting than whatever Eric had to say.

  “Besides,” Ryan turned his head to grin at her. “I’ll take care of her if she decides to let loose.”

  She tried not to quiver as he inched his hand higher. Was there a double meaning in his words? Glory, she was having trouble interpreting his signals. Doubtful Eric or Taylor could see exactly where he touched her, and Ashley had to wonder why he bothered. However, a fog of awareness-induced need took over her brain.

  Ryan chatted amiably with Taylor and Eric, but she had difficulty focusing on the conversation. Mostly stuff about the wedding. Whatever. Her burning question was, would he take his hand away? Or go higher?

  Ryan leaned back in his seat, ostensibly to get more comfortable, and that tormenting hand strayed further up her thigh. Part of Ashley couldn’t believe he was teasing her like this. At the same time, a secret part of her yearned for his hand to continue the torment. The part that hadn’t been able to forget their night together. Ryan, and her reaction to him, overwhelmed her senses and made her feel all woman.

  But that was screwy. She wasn’t the kind of girl who got off on teasing. Holy smokes, his hand inched higher, while at the same time, his long fingers brushed the inside of her thigh. Just shy of the sweet spot which now throbbed in anticipation.

  Only he didn’t continue.

  Instead, their waiter placed their salads in front of them. Ryan removed his hand and sat forward to eat.

  “Tease,” she muttered under her breath.

  He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “Sorry. I forgot for a moment there that this isn’t real. Won’t happen again.” He kissed her cheek and went back to his salad.

  Slowly, because her body still resembled a bundle of live electric wires, she followed suit. Picking up her fork, she took a bite of salad she didn’t taste.

  “Unless you want me to,” he tacked on casually.

  Ashley had to stop chewing. Either that or spew half-chewed salad all over the table as she struggled to inhale.

  “Want you to what?” Taylor asked, glancing between them.

  Ashley froze, then a spark of devilry took over. Two could play this game. She rolled her eyes expressively. “Ryan keeps insisting on getting me this gorgeous set of diamond earrings I saw at Lucy’s. You know, the shop down the street? But I keep telling him it’s too soon in our relationship to spend so much money on a Christmas gift.”

  A quick glance revealed amusement twinkling in those d
ark eyes, rather than irritation or concern. She gave him a sunny smile and reached over to pat his thigh, making sure to brush his crotch as she did. Only to yank back when she discovered he sported a hefty erection. Her heart rate kicked up a couple gears. So Ryan wasn’t unaffected by touching her. Was he thinking about their night together? Cause she sure was. In glorious, technicolor detail.

  Time to focus elsewhere or she’d combust right here on her seat.

  “Where did you get Taylor’s ring, Eric?” Ryan asked casually.

  Had he lost his mind? They’d take that as a sign he was thinking of proposing.

  “Why, Ryan? Are you looking for engagement rings?” The delighted sparkle in Taylor’s eyes had Ashley cringing on the inside. Damn, she hated being right sometimes.

  “Of course not,” Ashley trilled a laugh as she rested a hand on the nape of her fake boyfriend’s neck. “We’ve been dating about five minutes.” For good measure, she pinched the back of his neck, hard.

  To give him credit, Ryan didn’t even jump. Instead, he took Ashley’s hand from his neck and brought it around to kiss it, then held on tightly when she tried to tug away.

  He addressed her rather than their companions. “Not any time soon. But we’ve known each other all our lives. We were good friends once, and I hope again. And I’ve been in love with you since we were fourteen, so there’s no need to wait too long.”

  Ashley blinked, her smile slipping. She knew he was playing his part, but her heart wanted those words to be true.

  “I always wondered if you had a thing for Ashley.”

  He turned his charm her sister’s way. “Alas, Eric beat me to it then. But he’s with the right woman now.” He tipped his wine glass in Taylor’s direction. “And I have a second chance to win the woman for me.”

  Eric reached over to cuddle Taylor, who gazed up at him with adoring eyes. When Eric wasn’t being an ass, like most of tonight, his adoration for her sister, and she for him, practically radiated heat.

  An ache settled in Ashley’s heart as a wish to be loved like that overtook her. Not by Eric, of course. But… suddenly, a crystal-clear mental image of Ryan looking at her in such a way popped into her head, and not for the first time.

  Oh. My. God. I’m in love with Ryan McAdams.

  Sledgehammers had less impact than that realization. Ashley wanted to weep. How had she missed the strength of her feelings for this man all these years? Granted, he’d made it easy in high school when he put as much distance between them as he could in a small town.

  And the bitch of it all, he played a role now. Nothing he said or did with her tonight was true. Granted, he’d taken her to bed, but lust had a lot to answer for. What would it feel like if he actually did care for her? Love her? The knowledge he didn’t intensified the ache in her heart.

  She glanced away from Eric and Taylor to discover Ryan watching her, his face a portrait in disappointment. In her. The same look he gave her all through high school and any time she bumped into him when she came home from college. What did she do now?

  “What?” she mouthed.

  “Nothing,” he mouthed back.

  The waiter arrived just then with their main courses. Rattled, Ashley glanced away and concentrated on forcing herself to eat her meal. World flipped upside down, she had no idea how she’d go back to normal after Christmas.

  Why had she bothered to come home at all?

  “Do you mind if we skip the movie?” Ryan’s question dropped into the silence of his truck cab as they pulled away from the restaurant. “I’m more tired than I expected.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment popped the balloon of anticipation she’d been riding, and she dropped back to earth with a thud. He’d been a bit chilly since their dinners were served. “Sure.”

  He nodded, and the silence between them grew thick with unspoken words. They made it halfway to her house before she spoke up. “Something wrong?”

  She caught his glance. “Wrong? Not really.”

  That was a non-answer if she’d ever heard one. He always had been an internalizer, preferring to work out his issues by himself. “Speak up, McAdams, if you’ve got something to say.”

  His jaw tightened. “You don’t want to hear what I have to say. You never have.”

  “Spit it out anyway. I’d rather deal with—”

  “You’re still in love with Eric.” No accusation rang in his voice, more resignation.

  “How do you figure?”

  “I saw how you were watching him. With Taylor tonight. Your emotions were plain to see. I’ve never seen such longing.”

  So the problem now was, in order to explain the longing, she’d have to fess up about her feelings for Ryan. Too raw and new, she still needed time to process herself. Besides, the mood he was in, he’d probably laugh her out of the truck.

  “I was wishing someone might look at me that way some day.” The most she was willing to admit.

  Doubt flattened his mouth.

  “You don’t believe me?” she asked. Anger started to replace hurt.

  “I get it. You want your sister to be happy, and so you lied.”

  “So you don’t believe me.”

  He blew out a long breath. “Let me put it this way. When you started dating Eric and I said you were spending so much time with him that your other friends were being left in the cold, did you believe me?”

  Ashley crossed her arms. “Those friends should have been happy for me and waited until the initial thrill faded.”

  He grunted his disagreement. “And when I said you were staying with him more out of comfort than true passion, you said…”

  She seemed to remember her exact words were “f off.”

  “And when you were still waiting for him to propose, and I told you that was wrong…”

  She’d not-so-politely asked him to stop talking to her at all.

  Apparently having made his point, Ryan nodded. “Maybe you don’t even realize you still love him. But I saw it, Ashley.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about Eric. I was thinking about—”

  She cut off abruptly. Damn. Her tongue tended to loosen up when she got angry.

  “About?”

  “Someone else,” she muttered, turning her face away to hide her expression from him.

  “You can’t even admit it to yourself.”

  Having this conversation was like talking to a freaking brick wall. “Agree to disagree before I hit you.”

  “Fine.”

  She fumed in silence for a long minute, at the same time debating telling him the truth. However, the truth was, she wasn’t sure she trusted her heart any more. Nine years with Eric was a long time to be wrong about someone. She wanted to be sure of her feelings this time.

  She wasn’t ready. And, based on this conversation, he wouldn’t believe her anyway. Maybe after they got past the wedding and Christmas and stopped their fake romance.

  “Are you still going to help me?”

  His shoulders stiffened, and she could see his rejection of the idea.

  “Taylor still deserves to be happy on her wedding day. Please help me do that for her.”

  “I’ll help. But just the wedding day.”

  So not the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night. “Fine. I’ll tell people you had plans you couldn’t rearrange at such short notice.”

  He gave an abrupt nod. “Fine.”

  16

  “I was married by a judge. I should have asked for a jury.” --Groucho Marx

  Ashley’s parents, dressed and ready for the wedding, paused at the garage door. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Ryan can meet you at the church.”

  She waved her mother’s offer away. “I’m sure he got held up with ranch stuff. He’ll be here any minute.” And if he didn’t show, Godzilla would have nothing on her in the destructive rampage department.

  Her mother glanced out the window at the long empty drive leading to their home. “Okay. Don’t wait too much longer. You’re the mai
d of honor.”

  As if she was about to forget that fact. She’d already spent the day helping Taylor get ready, as well as getting herself ready. Taylor had left in the limo with the other bridesmaids but insisted Ashley wait for her date. “I’ll be there in plenty of time.”

  Finally, they left, as evidenced by the muted sound of the garage door lowering followed by the crunch of tires on the gravel drive. Silence settled over the house along with an odd sense of loneliness. Ashley checked her phone for the hundredth time, but no message waited for her.

  Please don’t stand me up. How embarrassing would that be?

  Ashley had to admit she looked forward to seeing Ryan. She missed his goofy, sexy texts and constant teasing. She even missed him yesterday at the rehearsal dinner. Her heart was in for a world of hurt when she went back to Dallas.

  She wiped her palms over the silky folds of her dress. Lights flashed across the window, and she inched back the curtain to peer outside, relief whooshing through her at the sight of Ryan’s truck. She wrapped her thick, knee-length jacket around her and was waiting in the foyer before he even got out. The doorbell chimed, followed by a flutter of anticipation.

  She opened the door to find him standing there, tall and handsome, dressed in his best formal suit—dark charcoal grey paired with a silver tie which peeked out from under a nice black wool coat. An unexpected bolt of desire lanced straight through her. Damn, he looked amazing all dressed up.

  And, shit, was she in trouble.

  For two days she’d debated her sanity and her feelings for him. But, standing here in front of him with her tummy churning, a happy glow inside her heart, and desire pulsing through her body—all sensations in direct contrast to the bleak mood she was in before his arrival—any doubts she was falling for Ryan McAdams rolled away. Like a two-ton boulder down a mountain.

  If they held a Stupidest Person on Earth Contest, she’d definitely be in the running.

  “Hi,” she said. Inwardly she groaned, but she couldn’t think past the shock of her discovery.