When he didn’t respond right away, her eyes flickered away and she said quietly, “It’s okay if you…I mean, if things…”
Again, ridiculous. Without waiting for her to finish, he put his hand at the back of her neck, leaned over and kissed her. The instant their lips met, he felt her body relax, seem to settle somehow, and he realized how rigidly she’d been holding herself.
It was a brief, gentle kiss but it made all the difference. As he leaned back, he saw her beautiful blue eyes were shining with something he hadn’t seen a moment ago, something bright and warm and eager. Her cheeks were flushed again and he could see her breasts moving up and down with slow, deep breaths.
Her lips curved into a small smile and she put her hand lightly on his knee. “We’re still…I guess we still have kind of a big mess on our hands, don’t we?” she asked.
Joe smiled, too. “You mean the fact that this seems to be turning into a big deal, with no reasonable future, no logical place to go?”
“Yeah, that little thing,” she said.
“Well, we could have some fun floundering around trying to figure it out though, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, and leant to kiss him again, and this time she slipped the tip of her tongue into his mouth. “I think we’ll have lots of fun.”
He took her hand from his knee, put it back into her lap and covered it with his own. “Perhaps you’d like to drop by tomorrow for a tour of my house, look at the work I’ve been doing. Would that interest you at all?” He kept his voice very low.
“Gee,” she said, speaking very slowly, “that sounds swell, but I’ll have to check my schedule.”
“Ahh, I see.” He moved his hand to her back and ran his fingers up and down her spine, then rested the hand at the small of her back. “Well, anytime is fine, just let me know.”
Her eyes changed again; the pupils widened and her eyelids drooped. She moistened her lips and said, “You know what I’m going to need?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, moving his hand a little lower, to the top of her ass. “I think I know what you need.”
She caught her breath, her mouth open, and he increased the pressure of his fingers on her backside. Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes and said, “I can’t remember what I was going to say.”
Very slowly, he ran his hand back up her spine and began to stroke her neck with his fingertips. “Don’t worry, it’ll come back to you,” he said. And then, even more softly, he added, “Emily, will you do something for me?”
“Mmm,” she said, her head dropping back, “probably.”
“How about going upstairs and changing into something a little less…” He paused a moment. “Cuddly,” he finished.
She opened her eyes to look deeply into his, and now he saw amusement and a hint of challenge. “No,” was all she said.
Smiling, he leaned closer, whispered, “Then you’ll have to deal with the consequences,” and slid his fingers down and over her breast.
A tremor ran through her and he hastily withdrew his hand before he lost control. How could he have forgotten how instantly she responded to his touch and more importantly, the effect that had on him? It was impossible to tease her – he always wound up teasing himself. He sat up straight and grinned at her, shaking his head. “You really are catnip to me. Kindly stay at least a foot away for the rest of the festivities, all right?”
“No deal,” she said, grinning back.
Cars doors slammed out in the drive and they heard George barking. “Ah, lucky for you,” Joe said, getting up. “Just as I was about to demonstrate how dangerous your…refusal to cooperate could be.”
She extended her hand. “Help me up, I want to go pull myself together. And by the way,” she added, “You should be the last person in the world to call me uncooperative.”
“Got me there, I guess,” he said.
When she was on her feet, she brushed at her skirt and straightened those sweaters that made his fingers itch to touch her. “Tell whoever it is I’ll be right back,” she said on her way out.
There were some scratching noises at the door, then it swung open and George rushed in, heading straight back to the kitchen. Joe could hear voices, so he wandered over to look outside. Mr. Elmore stood beside the open trunk of a car, holding two large shopping bags filled with gifts; beside him, his brother Morris was leaning inside and rooting around, apparently looking for something. “Need any help?” Joe called.
“I could use some help,” answered a good-looking, thirty-something woman Joe had never seen before.
She was sitting in the front seat of the car with something on her lap. As he approached, he saw it was a lot of fancy-looking chocolate things stacked in the shape of a Christmas tree. “Wow,” he said. “That looks great, here…let me…”
“Be careful, the platter is very heavy.”
Heavy was putting it mildly. Just as he lifted it, a disembodied voice came from behind the car, startling him, and he almost lost his grip. “Charlotte’s a famous pastry chef. Wait ‘til you taste it.”
Well, no one will be tasting it if I drop it in the driveway, he thought, his eyes on the plate. “Let me get this inside,” he said over his shoulder.
“Put it on the sideboard in the dining room,” called the voice.
As he carefully navigated through the door, Emily came down the stairs. “Where’d that come from?” she asked.
“Made it myself, just for you,” he said.
“How sweet of you. Who’s outside?”
“Your uncle Morris, a stranger, and somebody I didn’t see, your cousin Debbie I guess. This thing weighs a ton – walk in front of me and make sure there’s nothing in the way.”
After he set it down, Emily looked it over, tilting her head. “Was it crooked when you picked it up?”
“Shit, I have no idea. Turn it around a little, see if that’s better.”
“A little, I think.”
“Well, I hope Charlotte can roll with a punch. She’s a famous pastry chef, you know.”
“Aw, and I believed you – I thought you’d thrown this together while I was upstairs. Who’s Charlotte?”
Joe shrugged. “Let’s go find out.”
Everyone was in the front hall, laughing, hugging, exchanging greetings. Ellie had come in from the kitchen and Abby and Aaron were walking down the stairs. Emma woke up and ran to join the general hubbub. Joe didn’t realize his steps had slowed until he felt Emily’s reassuring hand touch him briefly between his shoulder blades. “Let’s just wait here,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said, wishing he could put his arm around her waist. “I’ll get used to it in a minute. I just…happy family crowds kind of freak me out.”
“I know, it’s okay,” said Emily.
Charlotte detached herself from the group and walked towards them, extending her hand. “Hello, you must be Emily,” she said. “I’m Charlotte.”
She turned to Joe. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself outside.”
“I’m Joe,” he said. “Old friend of the family.”
They shook and she peered around him into the dining room. “Profiteroles make it in okay?”
“Oh, it’s absolutely beautiful, thank you so much,” said Emily hastily. “I understand you’re quite a well-known pastry chef.”
Charlotte looked pleased. “Yes, that’s how I met Deborah and her friend and Morris – they came into the restaurant for a birthday dinner and ordered a special cake I do sometimes. They were so happy with it they asked me to meet me.” She paused, then added, “And the rest, as they say, is history.”
Dottie came up and joined them. “Hello,” she said, “I’m Dottie, who are you?”
Looking a bit startled by the brevity, Charlotte introduced herself again, but Dottie didn’t pay much attention. “Where’s your mother?” she asked Emily. “I think that roast needs to come out.”
“I’ll handle it,” said Joe. And get away from this crowd, he added to himself. “Excuse
me, ladies.”
As they walked through the dining room, Dottie jerked a thumb at the sideboard. “Where’d that thing come from?” she asked.
While he checked the roast, Joe told her the little he knew. After a few minutes, Emily came in and sat at the table with a mug of eggnog. Her mother followed, looking perplexed.
“Honey,” she said to Emily, “who is that woman who told me how thrilled she is to be joining the family?”
“You must mean Charlotte,” Emily said. “She said that, about joining the family?”
“Yes, did she mean for dinner? Or something else?”
Emily thought that over for a moment and said, “Well, the real question is, who is she with? She’s too young for Morris, isn’t she?”
Dottie snorted. “Older than she looks, I’d wager.”
Ellie seemed not to hear that comment. “Let’s see, Morris is three years younger than your father, so he’s about fifty-nine, I suppose.”
“And she’s too old for Debbie, I’d think.”
Joe realized he was several steps behind in this conversation. He got another beer out of the fridge and leaned against the counter. “What are you talking about? What happened to Frederick, the fiancé from Thanksgiving?”
Emily started to laugh. “Oh yeah, we forgot about Frederick. I guess he’s history, either way. And just so you know, Joe, one of Debbie’s many fiancés was a woman.”
“Ahh,” he said, light dawning.
“Yes, she’s an equal opportunity runaway bride.”
“Here’s what I want to know,” said Dottie. “Do we eat that monstrosity in the dining room, or is it just for display, like a gingerbread house? That stuff that looks like fishing line draped all over it doesn’t look edible to me.”
They all looked at each other and laughed again. “Oh, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to eat it, since she’s a pastry chef,” Joe said. He felt warm and comfortable and completely at ease. He felt included, a feeling so unfamiliar he was having trouble processing it. This is the best holiday I’ve had in a very long time, he thought.
“Okay,” said Emily, still giggling. “About the chocolate thing – I’m sure she’ll offer to serve it or tell us how to take it apart if it’s dessert. As for why she’s here, everybody listen for clues. Sooner or later, one of them will say something.”
“Well, if Morris is dating a woman that young and attractive, it’ll make the evening news, and everyone will know,” said Dottie, snorting again. “Time to get this dinner on the table, don’t you think, Ellie?”
“Indeed it is. Emily, go tell your father to come in and carve, and ask your sister to fill the water glasses. Joe, see if you can find the corkscrew and then open some wine, in case anyone wants it.”
As he walked out to the sun porch where a little bar had been set up, Joe thought over his strange delight in the casual way he’d been given a chore. Just another member of the family, expected to pitch in where needed – right about now he should shutting down, withdrawing, keeping himself safe. He listened for the alarm bells that always rang when he began to feel attached to something, but all he heard were happy voices and the comforting clatter of a family dinner being served.
Chapter Three – December 25
Evening
Emily was counting place settings while her sister moved around the table with the dripping pitcher. “Abby, aren’t we short here? I mean, I presume that little plate at the corner’s for Emma, but there still aren’t enough chairs, are there?”
“Oh, Mom really didn’t like having two tables, so Aaron and I are going to eat in shifts. One of us is always jumping up to take care of the baby anyway – we don’t mind at all. The rest of you are just going to have to squeeze in.”
Emily remembered Joe’s instruction to keep some distance between them and felt an unexpected surge of desire. She could see him in the next room, facing away from her and doing something at the bar. When Abby went back to refill her pitcher, Emily walked out to stand close beside him.
“Seems the dinner seating’s going to be pretty tight. Want to sit next to me so I can sneak my hand into your lap, play around with you a little?”
He jumped, his hand jerked and the cork he’d been pulling snapped in half. “Thanks a lot,” he said. “As if I’m not having enough trouble with this.”
“Why are you using the thing on your pocket knife?”
He looked at her. “I like to challenge myself,” he said dryly.
“The corkscrew’s right in front of you.”
“It is not—oh.” He picked it up from behind a bottle and went back to work. “Do you wear perfume?”
“No.”
“Why do you always smell so good? It’s all I can think about sometimes.”
“That’s what you think about?” she said quietly.
“I said ‘sometimes.’ Now do you want to step away from me…” He paused and turned his head to look directly at her. Emily saw something in his eyes that set off a tingling between her legs.
“…or do you want to go up to your bedroom?” He lowered his voice even further. “I could just lean you over the bed and lift your skirt, pull down what I’m sure are very pretty little panties, slide inside you. Wouldn’t take much time at all. I’m getting very, very hard already.”
Emily was staring at his mouth, listening to his smooth, silky voice, imagining exactly how that would feel. She realized she was breathing through her mouth, her lips parted. He smiled slightly, reached over, put a finger below her chin and pushed upward, closing her mouth. “Now go find something else to do,” he said, and turned back to the wine bottle.
It took her a few seconds to remember where she was. People were beginning to drift into the dining room and sit down – eventually they came into focus as members of her family. She turned away to go out to the kitchen, then turned back and put her hand on Joe’s forearm. “We’ll do that later,” she whispered and had the satisfaction of seeing his hand jerk again.
Somehow she made it through dinner, but she had a lot of trouble following conversations. The words “very, very hard” kept coming back to her – the low, seductive sound of his voice and the look of his soft lips as he spoke. Once she’d quivered noticeably and Dottie, seated next to her, said, “Do you need another sweater?”
Charlotte told a few mildly alarming behind-the-scenes restaurant tales; they discussed politics a little – not too much; reminisced a bit about Christmases past. Joe had quite a few stories about people who called him to fix things that had been broken in surprising ways – the town seemed filled with kids who tried to toboggan down inside staircases and people who a few beers and decided to clean the wrong things with high-pressure hoses.
He was sitting on the other side of Dottie, a choice she knew he’d made deliberately. But even though she couldn’t really see him, Emily was constantly aware of his presence. At least three times she had to tell herself to stop staring at his hands. She wondered if they really could slip away after dinner, just to have a little more time alone before tomorrow, not to…damn. She wished she hadn’t started thinking about that again.
The meal was winding down; people were praising her mother and exclaiming how full they were. After a few more minutes, Emily and Abby got up and began to clear the table. She was carefully plotting the very brief moment of contact she would have as she leaned over Joe to take his plate, but he foiled her. Twisting in his seat, he handed over the plate with an extra-bright smile and said cheerfully, “Here you go.”
Not caring if anyone noticed, Emily leaned over anyway and in a tone just as cheery as his, whispered “fuck you” into his ear, then turned and backed through the swinging door to the kitchen.
Abby followed her in and they stood surveying the damage. “After dessert, I’ll get Aaron to help with some of this, Em. He won’t mind and you missed everything this morning.”
“Wow, thanks.” She gave her sister a hug.
“Where’s dessert? I thought Mom made a cak
e – are we having that thing on the sideboard instead? Who brought it?”
Emily started to laugh and Abby looked at her strangely. “What?”
“Charlotte did, but we don’t know if we’re supposed to eat it or just look at it. Dottie thinks it’s a decoration, like a gingerbread house. We’re waiting for Charlotte to say something.”
Now Abby was laughing too. “Well, what about the cake, should we bring that out?”
Emily lifted her hands. “I have no idea. It’s down in the basement – Mom wanted to keep it cool. Why don’t you take the coffee out and do some reconnaissance and I’ll go down for the cake.”
Joe came through the door looking happy and relaxed. “I am very sorry you two missed the look of relief on your mother’s face just now,” he said. “One mystery has been solved – Charlotte got up a minute ago and came back with some weird-looking tongs to…tada!...serve the dessert.”
“Okay…Emily, I’ll take the coffee and you bring the cream and sugar, will you?” Abby said, and went out.
Emily opened the door and leaned into the fridge to scan the shelves for cream. She didn’t hear him move, but suddenly Joe was behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pressing his hips against her. She froze for a moment, then grabbed the little carton, stood up and let her head drop back onto his shoulder. She closed her eyes.
His hands slid up her torso to cup her breasts and she felt his lips near her ear. “I’ve thought of something,” he said softly.
“Someone’s going to come in,” she replied, but didn’t move.
“Probably,” he said, and then moved one hand down to slide between her legs.
Emily gave a short whimper of longing, squirmed against the strong fingers pressing into her sex and covered his hand with her own. Sounds from the dining room seemed to come from miles away. His lips nuzzled at her ear and she could feel his warm breath on her neck; the hand at her breast was gently squeezing the nipple. She heard him whisper “too far,” into her ear, and suddenly he was gone.
With a trembling hand, she closed the refrigerator door and slowly turned around to find him leaning against the counter, munching on a leftover carrot stick from the relish platter. As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, he said, “I rode my bike over here.”
Hope Falls: Almost Merry (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 3