Good Together

by C. J. Carmichael

  “Then what will you eat for dinner?” Mattie wanted to know.

  “Oh, there will be lots of leftovers,” Eadie assured them, before heading down the hall toward the master bedroom.

  An hour later, Eadie had left, and Mattie and Nat had finished lunch. The casserole had been delicious, but Mattie only picked at her portion. She was going through tea, however, like nobody’s business. He picked up the empty pot. “Should I make some more?”

  She let out a long, unhappy sigh. “I should be getting home. You must have work to do.”

  “Not really,” he insisted. “Why don’t we be decadent and watch an afternoon movie.” Not the action, adventure type that he preferred but something feel-good that would cheer her up a little. Without waiting for her answer, he turned the TV on then gave her the control so she could scroll through the offerings.

  “Oh, this is cute,” she said after a few minutes. “It’s about two women who switch houses for the holidays. Have you seen it?”

  He glanced at the screen as he carried the fresh pot of tea in from the kitchen. “Nope, haven’t seen it. Let’s give it a try.”

  It soon became clear that she had seen it before, but she seemed to enjoy it just as much despite the fact. “Oh, I love this part,” she said, touching his arm as the American girl trudged in her high heels in search of the English cottage. “Isn’t she a hoot?”

  At some point Nat realized he was watching Mattie more than the movie. He hadn’t seen her smile this much for a long time. She had a haunting beauty when she was sad. But happy, she glowed, effervescent and irresistible.

  When the woman from England ran through the beautiful, sophisticated, LA house, delighting with each new discovery—from outdoor pool, to gourmet kitchen—Mattie looked as wide-eyed and happy as the actress.

  They’d been sitting side by side, a good two feet between them. But somehow they were closer now. Every time she laughed, Mattie would reach for him, touch his arm for a second or two, nothing inappropriate, but man, how he was aware of those touches. And then, when the couple celebrating Christmas in England shared their first kiss, pulled back, then kissed again, a new tension entered the room.

  Mattie looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You probably hate these mushy scenes.”

  “Do you?”

  “I love them.” She wasn’t looking at the screen, though, she was looking at him.

  Never had he wanted to kiss a woman as much as he wanted to kiss her. He’d found her perfect from the first moment he’d met her. But seeing her withstand the onslaught of the past few months had only made her more precious to him. Her strength, and her vulnerability, the combination was irresistible.

  “Nat? We don’t have to watch this if you don’t like it.”

  “Why do you think I don’t like it?”

  “Because you’re not watching the TV...” her gaze dipped to her hands, then rose back to meet his. “It seems more like you’re watching... me.”

  “Guilty,” he admitted. “It’s just nice to see you smiling for a change.”

  Her smile broadened, real and warm. “You’ve really seen me at my worst, haven’t you?”

  “Even your worst is beautiful.”

  They were both quiet for a moment, the soundtrack to the movie quite superfluous at this point.

  Her eyes grew luminous. “Nat... you’re so good to me.” She reached a hand to the side of his face. And then she was leaning in toward him, lips sweetly parting.

  She had probably meant for them to share a chaste kiss. But magic sparked from the first light touching of their lips. He cupped the back of her head, kissed her more deeply, inhaling her, tasting her, drowning in her... then pulled back to check her beautiful warm eyes.

  They were glowing. He could tell she wanted more. He could feel the surrender in her body, as well as the heat and the need.

  Just like his. Every fiber of his being wanted him to kiss her senseless then carry her to his bedroom. He wanted to explore every inch of her body. Claim her and please her. He groaned, imaging how intense and amazing it would be.

  “Mattie, how I want you.” He stopped himself from adding, how I’ve always wanted you...

  “I feel the same way.”

  He touched his lips to her smooth, high forehead, while he searched inside himself for the strength to hold back. “In another time... we could have been so good together.”

  “Why do you say another time...”

  He chose his words carefully. “For one thing... you’re still married.”

  “After everything that Wes has done—you really feel my being married is an obstacle?”

  “Legalities aside, there’s the rebound factor. A lot has happened in a really short time. You need to deal with the end of your marriage—really come to terms with it—before you jump into another relationship.” She looked so crushed. He felt as if he had rejected her, when the very opposite was true.

  “What you say is wise.” She sighed. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I know I started that kiss of ours...”

  “Maybe you started it. But I’ll bet I wanted it to happen more than you did.” He didn’t try to hide his emotions when he looked at her now, and was rewarded when a wash of pink spread up from her neck, until even the tips of her ears were red.

  “This is kind of a mess, isn’t it? But please don’t tell me we shouldn’t see each other anymore—not even as friends. I couldn’t stand that.”

  “I couldn’t either,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around her to give her a warm hug. He’d been walking an emotional tightrope with Mattie from the beginning. Only now the rope was so much higher.

  * * *

  Mattie was confused by her sudden sexual awareness of Nat Diamond. She’d known him for almost twenty years, during which time she’d certainly been aware of his drop-dead gorgeousness. Why was it only now that her heart raced when he was near, and his every touch made her long for more?

  Trouble was, Nat—so off-limits when she’d been a happily married woman—was no longer the forbidden fruit. The fact that he’d been the one to put the brakes on a potential sexual encounter between them made her feel slightly guilty, but also frustrated.

  If he really found her attractive, surely he wouldn’t be so noble.

  A week after spending the afternoon at his place, however, she saw the situation more sensibly. She was still legally married. And a rebound affair wasn’t really her style—or Nat’s, obviously. One good thing about that kiss though. It gave her something to think about that had nothing to do with Wes or the sold horses, or the fact that a realtor had been by to measure each room in the house for the sales listing.

  With no chores to do in the morning and evening, no horses to exercise or groom during the day, Mattie filled her days by cleaning the house with a thoroughness that she’d never had the luxury to indulge before, including washing walls and polishing light fixtures.

  And then it was time to think about Christmas. Since her marriage, she’d always celebrated here at Bishop Stables. But with no livestock tying them down, there was no reason they had to stay put. Mattie decided to give Callan a call.

  “So I’m the last to know,” Callan said bluntly, even before hello.

  “Honey, I’m sorry if it seems that way. It’s just that—getting divorced isn’t the sort of news that’s fun to spread. I hoped Sage would fill in you—and Dad.”

  “She did,” Callan conceded. “And I’ve been meaning to call to see how you’re holding up. So. How are you holding up?”

  “Good days and bad days. I was hoping we could talk more about this in person—how do you feel about the girls and me descending on you for Christmas?”

  “Seriously? That would be awesome! I’ve always wanted to celebrate the holiday with my nieces. You, too, of course.”

  Mattie wasn’t offended at being an afterthought. Her parents had spaced their children about four years apart, which worked out to a twelve-year gap between her and her baby sister. Call
an was only six when Mattie married and left home, so it was no wonder they weren’t very close.

  “That’s good to hear. Since Wes sold all our horses, we’re free to travel this year.”

  “He sold all of them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my God. I couldn’t stand it if—” never the most tactful person, Callan did have the sense to end her sentence there. “I’m so sorry, Mattie.”

  “Yes, it’s rough. And it’ll be even worse when Wes sells the land and the house.”

  “Surely that won’t happen for a while?”

  “I didn’t think so—but everything’s been happening at breakneck speed. I figure I should be prepared just in case. Right now Wes is working at a lumberyard in Billings. He likes the job and wants to buy a house in the area. To do that he needs to sell this place.” It was so weird to talk about her husband as someone totally apart from her.

  But she was starting to get used to it.

  “Well, of course you and the girls should come here for Christmas. And stay as long as you like.”

  “Possibly the girls will be spending part of their holiday with their dad,” Mattie cautioned. Which was another argument in favor of celebrating at the Circle C this year. Marietta was much closer to Billings than Polson.

  “Right,” Callan said. “I guess that’s only fair. Even though their dad’s a jerk.”

  “I’m inclined to agree. But don’t say anything like that in front of the twins.”

  * * *

  Portia wanted to study, but she didn’t know where to start. Why hadn’t she buckled down sooner? She had exams every two days for the next ten days and was so far behind it wasn’t funny. Thanks to all the classes she’d skipped, her notes were patchy at best. And she hadn’t kept up with the readings. She’d scraped by on most of her assignments—mostly by copying bits from some of her and Kirsten’s friends who were more studious.

  Usually she’d have been studying with that same group now, but their parents had sprung for tutors who were working with them in a private group. Portia didn’t dare ask her Mom for money to do the same.

  Portia groaned and let her head sink onto the stack of books on her desk. She’d been in this stupid library cubicle for forty minutes and hadn’t accomplished a darn thing.

  If only Wren were here. In high school, her twin sister had been her savior at times like this.

  “Looks like you could use one of these.”

  She lifted her head. A take-out coffee cup was now on her desk, next to the books. Beside her was a tall guy with dark hair. One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. Gradually the other corner went up, too, in a sweetly crooked smile.

  The pretend cowboy from Helena.

  “I am in big trouble,” she confessed.

  He slouched in the cubicle seat next to hers, tossed a binder on the desk. “I figured. We could hear your moaning from all the way over there.”

  Portia glanced where he was indicating and saw Annie Larimer and several other kids sitting at a round table. They all had coffees, too. The cowboy from Helena must have bought a round for everyone.

  She took a sip. Vanilla flavored latte. “Delish. Thank you. I’m not sure the caffeine is going to be enough though.” She pulled her psych text off the pile of reading material. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Must be hard when you haven’t been to half of the classes.”

  “Why bother, when I can get lectures from you?” she asked sweetly.

  “So I take it you’re not interested in seeing my study notes?” He started to get up.

  “Hang on,” she said quickly. “Did you say study notes?” She looked at him suspiciously. “How much are you charging?” Maybe the coffee was just to warm her up, before he hit her for some big-time cash.

  “I’m hurt. That you would suspect my motives, when I’m just trying to be a nice guy and get you out of a jam.”

  She studied his expression. Was he serious about helping her? If so, it wouldn’t be the first time. “Is this about my Dad? Do you want his autograph or something?”

  He seemed amused by that. “No strings, Portia. I even made a copy so you don’t have to return them.” He pulled a set of notes from his binder, neatly typed and stapled. “You learn all this, you’ll have no problem passing. That’s a guarantee.”

  She grabbed the notes eagerly. “Thank you—” he still hadn’t told her his name, but before she could ask, he was gone, rejoining his friends at the other table. Ten minutes later, they were packing up their books and leaving.

  Portia stayed where she was. The notes were fabulous. Several hours later, she still hadn’t taken a break when she heard an incoming text message on her phone. She could tell by the generic text tone that it wasn’t from anyone she had programmed into her contact list.

  Had the guy from Helena somehow tracked down her number?

  She couldn’t resist a look.

  But the message was from her dad.

  Finally.

  “Hi Portia. How are you? Wondering if I can see you this Christmas?”

  * * *

  Mattie knew Sage would do tons of baking for the Carrigan’s Christmas, but she decided to bake shortbread cookies using her mother’s traditional recipe. She made six dozen snowflakes, throwing any that weren’t perfect into a plastic bag. She’d crush them up for use as a crumb piecrust at a later date.

  Carefully she iced the snowflakes, then dusted them with silver sparkles.

  Once they were dry, she bundled two dozen onto a plate, covered it with plastic and a pretty silver bow.

  Then drove to the Double D.

  She hadn’t seen Nat since the afternoon they’d kissed. He’d phoned a few times, “how are you doing” calls—probably making sure she wasn’t contemplating slitting her wrists or anything. But actually, she was doing better these days, getting to a place where she could contemplate the uncertainty of her future without too much panic or despair.

  It was only five when she reached the gate to the Double D. She drove slowly over the cattle guard, then down the long approach that branched off about a quarter-mile later. To the left were the outbuildings, to the right, the house. Despite the early hour, the shortest day of the year had just passed and the sky was already dark. Red and green lights twinkled on the long roof-line, as well as on two thirty-foot pine trees that flanked the front yard.

  It was a festive sight, and helped put a smile on her face as she knocked on the large pine door. Nat answered within a few seconds. He was wearing faded jeans and a flannel shirt over a white T-shirt and the welcome in his eyes was unmistakable. “Mattie. Come in.”

  “I love all your Christmas lights. They look so festive.”

  “That’s as far as I got, unfortunately.”

  “More than I did this year. Decorating seemed like a waste of time since the girls and I are spending the holidays at the Circle C. And speaking of the holidays—” she handed him the plate of cookies.

  “Thanks. These look too pretty to eat.”

  “Don’t let a little sparkle stop you.” She’d been worried they would be awkward in each other’s company, but she felt completely at ease and Nat seemed the same. “It’s nice to see you, Nat. I hope you don’t mind me stopping in unannounced, but I’m leaving early tomorrow for Marietta.”

  “I’m glad you did. Come in for a drink.”

  She intended to refuse, but he already had the door closed behind her, and was one handedly helping her off with her coat.

  “How does an eggnog sound?” he offered. “I was just going to have a glass myself.”

  “Sure.” She followed him to the kitchen, and noted that he’d been totally right about not having done any decorating beyond the outdoor lights. There wasn’t so much as a poinsettia inside to indicate that this was the holidays.

  A fire crackled in the hearth, however, and Christmas carols played quietly in the background. Nat poured their drinks, then carried them to the family room. Together they sat on eit
her side of the sofa where they’d watched the movie together two weeks ago.

  She noticed his gaze slide from her eyes, to her lips. Was he remembering their kiss?

  Too bad there was no mistletoe over her head.

  She took a sip of the eggnog which was fresh, creamy, and sweet, and felt granules of nutmeg stick to her upper lip. Before she could discreetly lick them off, Nat reached over and did the job with his index finger.

  “So what are your plans for Christmas?”

  “Not much. A bunch of us bachelors are going to the Smoke House for dinner on the twenty-fifth. They do a nice job—lots of decorations, and a traditional turkey meal with all the fixings.”

  That sounded fine. But very different from the Christmases she was used to. House full of family, stockings hung for Santa, noise, confusion, laughter and games... did Nat ever hunger for a holiday like that? “And you don’t have to worry about washing a bunch of dishes at the end of the evening.”

  “Another plus.” He leaned back, stretching out his legs. “I know it probably sounds lame to you. But I’m used to having a low-key Christmas. I was an only child growing up. And since Julia and I never had kids...”

  “Just because you didn’t have children with Julia, doesn’t mean they can’t ever happen. You could marry again.” She wasn’t thinking of herself when she said that. Of course she wasn’t. Anyway, she’d had her children. And while getting pregnant was a possibility for her, it was definitely not a road she intended to travel again.

  “At forty-nine? No.”

  He sounded very decided. “What are you saying ‘no’ to—children? Or marriage?” Maybe it was a bold question. But after all they’d been through together the past few months, she didn’t feel it was inappropriate.

  “Both.”

  Again there seemed no room for doubt in his answer. Which she just didn’t get. No one was ever too old to get married again. Heavens, she’d heard of people in their eighties doing it. “Was being married to Julia so terrible that you’ve sworn off women?”

  Nat smiled. “Who said I’ve sworn off women?”

  Her mouth went dry. Did he mean to sound provocative? She sipped at her eggnog and regarded him cautiously, while he just laughed.