That First Christmas

by Lily Graison

  He looked around the bathroom, rolling his eyes when he didn’t see a change of clothes. He’d been in such a hurry to shower and get back to the kitchen he’d forgotten to grab something to wear. He glanced down, looking at the towel wrapped around his waist and smiled. It would serve her right if he pranced around half naked like she had but he knew he couldn’t. One look at her and she’d know without a doubt what effect she had on his body.

  Turning to the door, he pulled it open and looked out. He didn’t see her and assumed she was still in the kitchen. He debated on calling out to her but decided to grab what he needed himself when he heard her in the kitchen.

  Making a quick dash to the dresser, he grabbed a pair of sweat pants and was on his way back to the bathroom when Meredith spoke to him.

  “We’ll have to bandage that again,” she said, nodding to his shoulder.

  He froze; sweat pants clenched in his fist and covering the part of his anatomy that suddenly decided it wake up at the sight of her, just as he predicted. He nodded his head at her. “Okay.”

  “Grab the first aid before you come back out. It’s under the bathroom cabinet.”

  He saw her gaze sweep over him before she blushed prettily and turned her back to him. He stared at her for a moment and continued to the bathroom, dressing and grabbing the kit.

  When he walked back to the kitchen and sat down at the table, Meredith was by the stove, staring down at the soup. She was humming under her breath and moved to grab bowls and silverware. She looked at home. Happy even, judging the tune she was humming. The whole scene looked so damned domestic he could almost imagine it had always been this way. Her, there in his kitchen, cooking. The only thing missing in his happy little fantasy was the sound of children laughing in the background.

  Longing for something he never thought to have swept over him suddenly and he realized, no matter how many times he told himself it didn’t bother him, that he wanted this. He wanted someone to spend his life with. Someone he could look forward to seeing every day. To wake up with every morning and hold every night when he went to sleep.

  He realized almost immediately that just anyone wasn’t who he wanted. He could see the scene play out in his mind but it was her he saw there. It was Meredith’s smiling face looking up at him from the kitchen. Her face the last one he saw before closing his eyes at night and the first one he saw every morning.

  Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice her in front of him until she touched his arm. He looked up, noticing the amused look on her face.

  “Wherever you were must have been someplace fantastic,” she said. “I called your name four times.”

  He stared up at her, drinking in her features and said, “It was.” He locked eyes with her, willing his thoughts to somehow let themselves be known to her without him actually having to say them. He’d only known her a little over a week. She would think he was crazy if he told her what he was thinking. And he was crazy for thinking it. Her father was Willis Gunter. If there was ever a girl in the world he couldn’t have, it was Meredith. He could never have her…not forever. And that’s what he really wanted.

  “I think the soup is hot enough but we’ll bandage this first,” she said, reaching for the first aid kit and opening it. She rummaged through it, pulling out clean bandage and tape before turning back to him.

  She looked at his shoulder, making a small “hmph” noise and moved closer to him. “This doesn’t look nearly as bad as I first thought it was.”

  “It looks pretty good considering,” he said. “Could have been worse.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said, giving him a stern look. “That was completely stupid, by the way. Normal people don’t attack wolves with an axe.”

  “I didn’t attack him,” Travis said. “He attacked me. I was just protecting myself.”

  “Well, you could have just run with me.”

  “They would have caught us.”

  She looked up at him and shook her head, reaching for his shoulder. “Maybe,” she said, brushing his wet locks off his shoulder and drying his skin. “You really need to invest in a hairdryer.”

  “I don’t have a need for one. There isn’t anyone here for me to look pretty for.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, I need one. Just look at my hair. It looks like a frizz mop. And all girls want to look pretty whether someone is around to see them or not. Guys should be the same way.”

  “You look beautiful to me, frizzy hair and all.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. His heart skipped a beat in the time it took her to look down at him and then everything froze. Her hands on his skin, the very air around them.

  She was standing between his outstretched legs, he noticed. Her hair fell over one shoulder, brushing the side of his face with every breath she took. He reached up, brushing it back over her shoulder and ran his hand down the length of her back, over the soft swell of her bottom and rested it on her hip. The world ceased to exist for precious seconds as they stared at each other. He couldn’t have spoken if he’d tried.

  He didn’t have to, thankfully. The smell of burning soup made them both look to the stove.

  “I didn’t do it,” she said. “I haven’t touched it.”

  He grabbed her hips, gently pushing her out of the way and stood, walking to the stove and turning the burner off. Their supper was scorched. “Did you stir it at all?”

  “Stir it?”

  He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at her. “Yeah. To distribute the heat.”

  She blushed. “The can didn’t say anything about stirring it.”

  He snorted and shook his head before laughing. “Oh my god, Meredith, you can’t possibly be that…”

  “It’s not my fault!” she said, defensively. “You were the one taking your precious time in the bathroom. You primp more than a girl does.”

  “I do not,” he said, removing the pot from the stove and setting it in the sink. “I’ve never primped a day in my life.”

  “Well, I told you I couldn’t cook.”

  “No,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “You said you couldn’t turn on a stove.”

  “That should have been your first clue.”

  He shook his head, reaching into the cabinet. A few minutes later, he had another pot sitting on the burner. He turned the heat up, so it wouldn’t take as long, and turned to her. “Come here.”

  She was nibbling on her lip and her cheeks were tinted pink. “Why?”

  “I’m going to show you how to do this.”

  Hesitating for a few seconds, she finally crossed the room and stopped beside him. He moved behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and moving her in front of the stove. “Okay. First things first,” he said.

  Extending his hand, he touched the controls. “Each control works a different burner,” he said, showing her which control worked each knob. “The higher you turn it, the more heat you get, so don’t turn it up too high.”

  “How do I know how high to turn it?”

  “For you?” he said, “Always use the low setting.”

  Meredith turned her head, looking up at him. “Don’t enjoy my stupidity so much.”

  “I’m not. And you’re not stupid, just uneducated.”

  “Yes, like learning how to operate a stove is my life’s endeavor,” she said, sarcastically. “I should have taken home-economics in high school.”

  “Yeah, you probably should have.”

  “Okay. What’s next?”

  “Nothing much,” Travis said. “Just stir it occasionally until it’s done.”

  “How do I know when it’s done?”

  “When you smell it burning.”

  Meredith lightly jabbed her elbow into his stomach, looking up at him when he grunted a laugh. “You’re not funny.” He was staring down at her and that was when she realized exactly how tall he really was. Her head barely reached his chest and she strained her neck to look up at him. His left hand was still on her shoulde
r and she could feel him pressed against her back. When had she become so comfortable with him that she didn’t even notice how close he was standing to her? Probably the minute you realized you were falling for him.

  The color of his eyes changed the longer she watched him. They darkened to a smoldering sapphire in seconds and she saw desire and longing burning within their depths. She knew he wouldn’t act on it though. He hadn’t so far…had even gone out of his way to avoid kissing her the night before. She really wished she were one of those brave girls who could just take what she wanted. To be able to tell him that he was what she wanted, throw caution to the wind and have her way with him, but just thinking the words sounded stupid in her head. She could imagine if she voiced them. She was a virgin; she didn’t know how to ask for what she wanted. Not when it came to sex. She was as ignorant as a babe.

  Turning her head, she looked down into the pot, clearing her thoughts of him, and sex, away. “It’s starting to bubble.”

  “It’s probably done then.”

  He moved away from her and she used the distance to get a hold of herself. She walked to the table, taking a deep breath. She was turning into a basket case. Is this why guys were so eager to get laid? It made them insane if they didn’t? She could almost believe it. Just being in the same room with Travis made her thoughts stray, especially when he was dressed in nothing but a pair of sweat pants. He really needed to put a shirt on. She’d be a babbling idiot in record time if he didn’t.

  Once the soup was on the table and they’d started eating, Meredith knew her hopes for a fling with Travis were doomed. He obviously wasn’t going to initiate anything and if left up to her, she’d still be a virgin come the New Year. She just didn’t know how to go about seducing him unless it meant stripping naked and forcing the issue, which she wasn’t about to humiliate herself by doing.

  Maybe it was for the best. She’d probably never see him again once she left the mountain. She still had college to attend, a family who was probably trying to find her since she hadn’t made it home yet, and a life to get back to. He certainly didn’t act is if living up here alone bothered him too much and probably wouldn’t leave.

  She looked up at him, tilting her head to one side as she thought. “You know, you never told me why you live up here by yourself.”

  Travis looked up at her and she could tell instantly by the look in his eyes it was something he didn’t want to discuss. He had a secret. She smiled. She loved secrets. “Are you an escaped convict?”

  He choked. “No. Why on earth would you think that?”

  “Because, I’ve asked you twice why you live up here alone and you’ve never answered me.”

  “I like being by myself,” he lied.

  “No one likes being alone,” she said. “Try again.”

  “I don’t have to listen to people who talk too much?”

  She grinned. “You don’t have to get all surly about it.”

  “Surly?”

  “Rude, irritable, ill-mannered,” she said, pointedly.

  “I know what it means.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I’m not being surly. I just like my privacy.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “Well yes, but I still like talking to people.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Where did you live before moving up here?”

  Travis stared at her, his heart beating faster by the second. Was she just trying to make conversation or was she up to something? He glanced at her face, back down at his soup and mumbled out, “No where special.”

  “Oh,” she said. She was silent for a few minutes and Travis sighed in relief. His reprieve didn’t last long though.

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  His eyes widened before looking back up at her. Her cheeks were flushed. “Have you?”

  She looked away from him then and shrugged her shoulder. “I thought I was once. He was captain of the football team. We dated for two years before I realized what a jerk he was.”

  Travis stared at her and couldn’t explain why hearing she’d had a steady boyfriend bothered him so much. Maybe because some pimpled faced boy had spent his Friday nights kissing her and doing lord knows what else to her. “Most guys are,” he said. “Jerks, I mean.”

  “They are. Present company excluded, of course.”

  He grinned. “I can be a jerk too.”

  “Really?” she exclaimed. “I would never have guessed it.”

  She stood then, carrying her bowl to the sink and stopped halfway there, turning her head to him. “You realize you just did it again.”

  “Did what?”

  “Avoided my question by asking one of your own.”

  “What question did you ask?”

  “If you’ve ever been in love,” she said quietly.

  He stared at her, swallowed heavily, and finally shook his head. “No. I’ve never been in love.”

  She looked at him for long moments, never breaking eye contact with him. He realized his answer was more or less a lie. The closest he’d ever came to feeling that emotion was when he looked at her. And he knew without a doubt, that once she was gone, he’d mourn the loss of her. Mourn the chance to show her the man he was now. Not the one he had been.

  Chapter Seven

  “Your furniture may be pretty to look at but it’s the most uncomfortable stuff I’ve ever had the displeasure of laying on!”

  “You’re the one who insisted on my taking the bed,” Travis laughed. “I tried to warn you, didn’t I?”

  “You should have tried harder,” she said, sitting up on the sofa and glancing over at him. He wasn’t looking at her and she sighed before grabbing her blankets and tossing them to the floor.

  She made a small pallet and had just sat down when Travis leaned up on one arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Sleeping on the floor. It has to be more comfortable than that lumpy thing you call a sofa.”

  “You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he said, throwing the covers back and standing. “You can have the bed.”

  She groaned in frustration. “We’re not going through this again. You’re hurt. You take the bed.”

  “Has anyone ever accused you of being stubborn?”

  “I’m not being stubborn,” she said. “I’m being courteous.”

  She managed to lie down and snuggle into the blankets but frowned as she looked up. Travis was standing over her and he didn’t look happy. “What?”

  “Take the bed, Meredith.”

  “No.”

  He smiled. “I thought you’d say that.”

  Meredith gasped when he all of a sudden reached down and lifted her into his arms. She squealed when he jostled her into a better position. “Now who’s being stubborn,” she said.

  “It’s still you,” he said, turning on his heel and starting across the room.

  “Well, put me down. You’re going to hurt your shoulder carrying me.”

  He snorted. “That Christmas tree weighed more than you do and I carried it a lot farther than twenty paces.”

  She sighed in resignation and laid her head on his shoulder. She smiled to herself at the action. This was nice, she thought. Being all cuddled in his arms like this, getting carried to bed. Her eyes widened at the realization. Maybe…

  When he lifted one knee, half-sitting on the bed and laying her down, Meredith took a deep breath. She kept her hold on his neck and looked him in the eyes. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” She almost groaned at how softly it came out. It was barely over a whisper but he’d still heard her. She could tell by the way his eyes flashed hotly and his grip on her tightened.

  “I can’t sleep in the same bed with you, Meredith.”

  “Why?” she asked, feeling crushed, suddenly.

  He removed his arm from under her legs and reached up, unhooking her arms from his neck. “Because…I’ve been up here alone for a very long time,” he said, sighing heavily. “I d
on’t trust myself to be a gentleman.”

  “Then don’t.”

  God, he really didn’t just hear that, did he? He may have, it was whispered so low. One look at her face and he knew he had. But was she asking him to sleep with her or just to sleep in the bed with her?

  He could see uncertainty and fear in her eyes and knew the moment she leaned up and placed her lips against his, exactly what she was asking.

  When her seeking lips became more persistent, and her hands tightened around his fingers, he closed his eyes and kissed her back. God, he couldn’t do this. He was twelve years older than her. She was the daughter of the man he loathed most in the world and had wronged in ways he could never repay.

  He tried to pull away, whispering her name. It sounded like a plea to his ears, a plea for what he wasn’t sure but, when she held on to him, peppering kisses across his face and said his name, he knew it was too late.

  “Travis, please.”

  Hearing the pleading tone of her voice, Travis mumbled a curse. He could deny her to his last breath but lord knew he’d be miserable for it. He did want her. Wanted her until his bones ached because of it. Staring down at her, he let go of her hand and lowered himself to the bed. He reached up, running his fingers through her hair. She reclaimed his lips, her arms wrapping around his neck and within minutes, he was swept up in the scent of her, the feel of her soft and supple under him. He reached around her; his hand locked on her spine, and pulled her roughly to him, holding her to his body.

  She moaned and went limp under him, her kiss eager and consuming. Her fingers were in his hair, holding him to her, her foot drawing a lazy pattern on his calf and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to hold on to his control.

  He broke the kiss, looking down at her. “Are you sure this is what you want, Meredith?”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  There was still a hint of fear in her eyes, but desire burned within their depths. Reaching up, he ran a finger over her cheek, drinking in her features. He touched her lips, running the tip of his finger over the swollen plumpness of them. She extended her tongue, the wet tip touching his finger and he groaned at the sight before leaning forward, reclaiming her mouth. He forced his tongue past her lips, angling his head to deepen the contact.