by Cat Schield
Happy for them? Happy because of a lie? As empty as she’d felt earlier, Caroline wouldn’t have guessed her chest could get any more hollow.
“Thank you.” What else could she say? The lies they’d told were Simon’s. He needed to be the one to confess the truth. “Are you convinced you and Francine can’t work things out?”
“Completely. That’s why I told her not to come for Christmas.”
“I thought her father was sick.”
“A slight exaggeration. The attack was pretty mild. Originally, she had planned to come down Christmas Eve. I told her to stay with her dad and that we would talk before New Year’s Eve. I’d like a fresh start to the new year.”
“Have you told your parents?” Even as she asked the question, Caroline was pretty sure she knew the answer.
“I didn’t want to upset Christmas. It’s my mom’s favorite time of year. I’ll tell them after the first.” Another brother shouldering burdens when what he needed to do was share. “I don’t mind if you tell Simon about this, but could you two keep it quiet until I can tell Mom and Dad?”
“Sure.” What was one more secret?
“Thanks. My brother sure is a lucky guy. I hope he appreciates you.” With that, Dane pushed up from his chair and walked out of the study with the leaden stride of a man who carried heavy burdens.
After confirming that she had indeed passed her classes, Caroline kicked off her shoes and curled up on Charles’s comfortable leather desk chair. She reran her conversation with Dane through her mind. Why had he confided in her? Because he needed someone to talk to and she was an outsider? She understood why he hadn’t wanted to tell Simon. Their competitiveness knew no bounds. Nor had he said anything to Hannah because she never would’ve been able to keep quiet about that bit of news.
Fighting a yawn, Caroline switched to the couch where Simon had spent their first night. Had she really been such a temptation that he’d been unable to sleep in the same bed with her? The notion was bittersweet. She’d never felt such an overpowering attraction to any man before Simon. And after getting to know his family and seeing both his strength and his gentleness, her desire for him had only increased.
Which was why she wrapped herself in the cotton throw draped over the back of the couch. Sleeping down here seemed like an excellent way to avoid further temptation. Caroline turned off the desk lamp, glad the sofa was as comfortable as it looked.
Despite fretting about her current predicament, she must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, there was light. She blinked, and it took a second for her eyes to focus. Simon squatted beside the couch, arms resting on his knees, gaze impassive on her face. Her heart turned over with an uncomfortable lurch.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked.
She yawned behind her hand before saying, “I was sleeping before you turned on the lights and woke me up.”
“Why are you sleeping down here?”
That was a little more difficult to explain, and she could see from the tight set of his lips that it had better be good. “I didn’t want to sleep upstairs.”
He rocked back on his heels. “What is this about? Is it because I didn’t tell you about Francine?”
“Yes and no.” She shut her eyes to escape him. It was easier to speak her mind when she couldn’t see his face. “I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us, but I can’t sleep with you again.”
“That’s all you had to say. I can keep my hands off you.” Despite the stony set to his jaw, his tone sounded wry and ironic.
“Is that why you spent the first night here on this very couch?” she asked, smiling slightly at his half shrug. “And this isn’t about you. It’s about me. I don’t know if I can share a bed with you and not want to be in your arms.”
It was a daring confession. He blew out his breath in a long sigh.
“You cannot spend the night on the couch in my father’s study. Come upstairs.”
“I’m very comfortable down here. You go upstairs.”
They stared at each other for a long minute.
“I’m not leaving you down here.”
“I’m not going upstairs with you.”
Without warning, Simon stood and scooped her into his arms. Off balance and startled to be seized so abruptly, she wrapped her arms around his neck. One look at his grim expression kept her from her protesting. She should have known better than to engage Simon in a battle of wills. He was a man who acted definitively when he believed his way was best.
As his strong arms held her tight against his hard body, Caroline bit her lip to keep longing at bay. Didn’t he understand how easily he reduced her willpower to mush? When he kissed her she was helpless to deny him anything.
In the bedroom, he set her down and she swayed as his arms fell away.
“The ladies in this house do not sleep on couches,” he told her firmly, catching her left hand and placing a searing kiss where the base of her ring finger met her palm. “Sweet dreams, Caroline.”
She closed her hand around the kiss and watched as he turned on his heel and strode from the room. Staring at the closed door, her heart clenched with regret, she longed to call him back. Instead, she fell onto the bed and clutched his pillow to her face, inhaling his masculine scent until the tears that had eluded her earlier began to spill.
Chapter Twelve
Christmas morning, instead of waking with a warm armful of Caroline, Simon woke with a sore back and a short temper. Rather than head upstairs to face what a mess he’d made of things, he raked his fingers through his hair and followed the scent of coffee into the kitchen.
There, he found Sarah and his mother.
“Good morning, Simon,” his mother said. “You look tired. Did you stay up waiting for Santa?”
He kissed her on the cheek. “One of his elves called in sick. He made me help him fill stockings.”
The rest of the family joined them a short time later. Jerry, Delores and Harold passed through on the way to spend the day with Delores’ side of the family. All, except for his cousin, who appeared rather the worse for wear after all he’d consumed the night before, seemed chipper despite the lack of sleep.
Simon wished some of their Christmas cheer would rub off on him. He was feeling surly, and the bright smiles Caroline bestowed on everyone except him wasn’t improving his mood. She was clever, staying close beside him to fool his family into thinking nothing was amiss, but they might as well have had half the country between them for all they interacted. While futility churned in his gut, he had to content himself with sitting beside her during Mass and tucking her arm through his as they walked to and from the church.
“Did I mention that Charles and I were married in this very church?” Elizabeth remarked as they descended the steps at the conclusion of services. “Have you two given any thought to where you’re going to get married? I know you both live in Atlanta, but it’s such a big, impersonal city. You could have the wedding here.”
“We haven’t discussed the wedding at all,” Caroline answered before Simon could get past the image of her dressed all in white, her full-skirted figure gliding down the aisle toward him. “I’m afraid I haven’t been able to think about much except finishing law school.”
“I’d love to help you plan the wedding. Perhaps in April when the azaleas are blooming.”
Simon felt tremors quake through Caroline and knew he had to cut off his mother’s planning. “I think my girl has enough on her plate for the time being, Mom. Can we just make pancakes, open presents and enjoy Christmas?”
Elizabeth caught the warning in his tone and nodded. Beside him, Caroline withdrew even deeper into herself.
Christmas breakfast was a chaotic production. Simon took charge of making the pancakes, and he roped Sarah into helping him. They fought over who would pour and who would flip. The pancakes changed in diameter from one batch to the next as they argued over which size was optimum based on batter consistency. He made such
a ruckus in the kitchen that by the time breakfast had been consumed and they were ready for presents, Simon noticed that Caroline was back to smiling.
The family gathered in the front parlor to sort through the mound of presents beneath the tree, and Simon took advantage of an age-old tradition to stop Caroline beneath the mistletoe.
He wrapped his arms around her and dipped his head until their lips met. His heart gave a huge thump as her hands smoothed over his back, returning his hug. He lingered for another kiss, savoring the softness of her lips beneath his and the response he coaxed from her. Slanting his mouth over hers, he licked the inside edge of her lower lip and heard her soft groan. Her tongue darted out to tangle with his. Her head dropped back to yield her mouth to his ardent demand. For a long moment he drank from the sweetness of her surrender, wanting to banish the long night away from her loving touch.
“Merry Christmas,” he murmured against her ear, releasing her mouth at last. His breath was unsteady and rushed. He squeezed her hard and pushed her to arm’s length.
She regarded him from beneath her long lashes, eyes bright. They turned toward the rest of the family and found everyone except Charles avoiding looking their way.
“Are you two going to come open presents or do you plan to wear out the mistletoe?” his father demanded good-naturedly.
Simon sat on the floor by the tree and began handing out gifts. He was surprised to see one for everybody from Caroline. When had she had time to shop? He even found one that had his name on it. When he glanced at her, a question in his eyes, she shrugged. A pile of gifts surrounded her feet, and she seemed a little overwhelmed to be included.
Hannah led off the present opening. Her first gift was from Sarah: a photo of a watercolor that Hannah had been admiring for months that would be waiting for them when they returned home. Around and around they went. When it was Simon’s turn, he picked up the gift from Caroline and turned it over in his hands, spinning out the anticipation. He tore the wrapping free and began to laugh.
“A Scrabble dictionary?” he demanded, rising up on his knees and sliding one hand into the hair at her nape to hold her still for a hard, quick kiss. “I’ll treasure it always.”
She laughed merrily, a sound that rang in Simon’s ears like wind chimes on a cool spring morning. Her gray-green eyes sparkled with pleasure and suddenly he forgot how to breathe. How had this woman slipped under his skin so quickly? When had his focus become so narrow that he wanted nothing more than to see her eyes dance with happiness and darken with passion?
“When you’ve had a chance to look through it, perhaps you can challenge everyone to a rematch.”
“There’s nothing I like more than a challenge,” he responded, infusing the words with a second meaning for her to interpret. Color rose in her cheeks.
He handed her the present he’d bought her. She accepted it with a puzzled expression. He’d led her to expect jewelry, but the box was too big. As she tore off the wrapper and exposed the blue-gray Swarovski crystal box beneath, her gaze shot to his, bombarding him with disbelief. He might have spent ten times the amount and not pleased her a tenth as much. She unveiled the delicate crystal figurine, a single arching flower stem in silver ending in lavender drops. It was a work of art he’d known she’d appreciate.
Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes as bright as the crystal as she took his face in her hands and kissed him long and sweet. His throat tightened at her joy. They’d reconnected again, heart to heart, and not until this moment had he understood just how much he’d missed her.
When all the gifts had been separated from their wrappings, Elizabeth glanced meaningfully at Charles and brought out a tiny box that she gave to Caroline.
Caroline glanced at Simon in confusion, and he shook his head, mystified.
“This is something for both of you,” his mother explained, returning to sit beside her husband. They clasped hands, and Elizabeth practically vibrated with eagerness. “It’s a belated engagement present, or an early wedding present.”
Simon’s radar began giving off warning signals. Caroline slipped off the bow and lifted the lid. Nestled on a cushion of cotton was a key. Simon’s emotions reeled as his mind leaped to a crazy conclusion. They couldn’t have.
Caroline held up the key. “I don’t understand.”
“Tell me you didn’t,” Simon groaned.
“Now, Simon, don’t be like that. We haven’t done anything, not yet.”
“What’s going on?” Caroline questioned, her gaze bouncing between Simon and his parents. “What are you all talking about?”
Hannah supplied the answer, her voice quietly awestruck. “I think they bought you two a house.”
Caroline stared at Elizabeth and Charles, expecting a denial. When they smiled, she looked to Simon. “They bought us a house?”
“Apparently.”
Caroline grabbed at the chair’s armrest, suddenly dizzy. “You can’t buy us a house,” she protested, hysteria rising. Why couldn’t they have bought a china place setting like regular people? “It’s too much.”
“Don’t you want to see it before you turn it down?” Hannah suggested, looking very much as if she’d like to do just that. “Where is it, Mom?”
“Charlton Street.”
“That’s only five blocks away,” Dane said with a laugh. “Mom’s sure to be a frequent visitor.”
“I’m sure that’s the point,” Simon muttered.
Caroline stared at him, wondering why he’d lost track of what was really important. What did it matter how close or far away it was? His parents had bought them a house as an engagement present and they weren’t even engaged. His plan hadn’t just gone off course; it had fallen completely off the map.
“Can we go look at it?” Hannah asked again.
“Of course we can,” Charles said, getting to his feet. “And we didn’t buy you a house. We put a contingent offer on it.”
Simon crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, that makes all the difference in the world.”
Caroline let Hannah pull her to her feet and bundle her into a coat. She was a queer blend of numbness, anxiety and delight. A house of her own?
It was crazy, but suddenly she was as anxious as Hannah. Elizabeth and Charles led the way, Simon’s mother nattering on about how she had found out about the house, who owned it, why they were selling.
Caroline let the information wash over her. She gazed at the houses they passed, each one a century-old work of art. She walked between Sarah and Hannah, each arm linked with one of theirs. If not for their steady pace, she might have run all the way to Charlton Street and tried to guess which one fit the key clutched in her hand.
A rational part of her knew that she would never live in one of these houses. She and Simon weren’t getting married. They wouldn’t be living the life that involved an antebellum home in Savannah’s Historic District. But it was Christmas. Caroline remembered Simon’s kiss beneath the mistletoe and let herself pretend for a little while longer.
The house was a pale yellow green, the color of split pea soup, with black shutters and a narrow iron scrollwork balcony lining the front. Everyone waited on the front steps, forming an honor guard, while Caroline stepped up to the front door and fitted the key. The door opened into a grand foyer with a majestic curving staircase that spun upward on its way to the second floor. Caroline walked over the threshold and fell instantly in love.
“The kitchen has been newly updated. I’m not sure I like the green cabinets, but the stainless appliances are top-of-the-line. There are three verandas off the back overlooking the courtyard.”
“The house was built in 1854,” Charles said, picking up as tour guide.
“How big is it?” Sarah murmured, drifting into the kitchen.
“About six thousand square feet,” Elizabeth said.
“Eight bedrooms,” Charles added.
Eight bedrooms. She didn’t even have one. What would it be like to live in more than one room?
“What are we supposed to do with eight bedrooms?” Simon demanded, his voice rough with irritation.
“Fill them with children?” Elizabeth countered, her tone lifting hopefully.
Caroline’s knees wobbled slightly as she pictured three blond children running up the stairs shouting wildly. She glanced to Simon for his reaction, but he had his attention focused on the front door as if he couldn’t wait to escape. She let out a quiet breath and went exploring, still wrapped in her fantasy.
To her left was the living room and beyond that a sunroom. The living room was wallpapered in a soft blue-gray to accent the gray and cream furnishings. The fireplace surround was white marble, veined in the same accenting gray. Crown molding emphasized the first floor’s eleven-foot ceilings and succeeded in making the rooms feel cozy at the same time. Tall white pocket doors separated the living and dining room. Caroline drifted through the opening. While not the size of a ballroom as in the Holcroft home, the dining room comfortably held a table that would seat twelve.
From Simon there was no comment. Caroline glanced around as she passed through the kitchen and peered out at the courtyard at the back of the house. He was nowhere to be seen. She circled back to the foyer and found him standing beside the staircase, his expression unreadable. She caught his hand and tugged.
“Come upstairs and see the bedrooms,” she urged, a little breathless.
Simon grunted, but let her draw him to the second floor. They glanced into three rooms before finding the master bedroom. It had a screened veranda that overlooked the courtyard and one wall was exposed brick. Caroline was completely charmed.
“You realize we cannot accept the house,” he told her.
She turned from admiring the bathroom and regarded him in amazement. “Well of course we can’t. Did you think I didn’t realize that?”