The waitress met us as I tried to lean JoJo’s crutches against the back of her wooden bench. Within her easy reach, but out of the way of other customers.
“What can I get you?”
“A glass of prosecco for my beautiful date here, a jug of soda water and I’ll have a schooner of whatever you have on tap.”
“And to eat?” She looked between us.
“Babe, order whatever you feel like, I’m going to duck out and bring the car around.”
I needed the walk, as much as it was, to compose myself. The woman had me spinning out of control and right now, if someone told me my name was Fred and this was Canada, I’d believe them. Nothing made sense, yet every time I looked at her, she was the only thing that did.
Half a dozen emails on my phone including three from my father’s lawyer that were easily scanned and ignored. Didn’t people realize it was almost Christmas Eve. Time to stop working and find people who loved them?
Like JoJo?
Right. JoJo might have felt a lot of strong emotions towards me, but none of them were remotely to do with love.
But the night was still young.
My beer still had a full head when I slid into the booth. Sitting across from her gave JoJo space and me the best view in the house.
“So, where were we?” I desperately needed and deserved the cold beer after a long day of driving, but this conversation required a cool head.
“I don’t need your money.”
“I don’t like taking charity.”
“I’m not offering you charity. You’re doing me the favor coming home and pretending to be my boyfriend.”
“First, you are offering up to share your family with me at Christmas. No matter how you try and market it, that’s a big deal. I haven’t had a family Christmas in almost two decades.” It wasn’t until the waitresses looked over to see if JoJo was okay, that I realized the passion behind my shouted words. “What you’re offering to share is worth more to me than bloody money. In fact, I agree that money is an insulting way to put a price on what you’ve offered up, but there is no other way I can show my appreciation for not spending Christmas alone, than trying to pay my way.”
It sounded worse when I said it aloud, breathless getting to the end of what was needed to say. Then, I died a little inside when JoJo’s face crumpled for my pain. Quickly, I tried to regain composure on behalf of both of us, “Secondly, I thought we decided last night there was no fake about us.”
“Before you paid for services rendered.” JoJo threw at me, not bothering to hide the innuendo or bitterness.
“Is that what you thought? I paid you for sleeping with me?”
The joke was really on me, and now the rest of the restaurant were in on it. “Seriously, either you are the cheapest-per-root hooker I’ve ever met, or you need to increase your nightly rates.” At least this time I kept my voice down.
“But I thought—” JoJo started in honest indignation before I could shut her down.
“The most I could get as cash out was five hundred dollars. I’ll get you another lot tomorrow. Make a tally of what this trip has cost you and let me pay half.”
“Or I could give the money to charity.”
“That’s the good thing about money. I’ll give it to you and my conscious will be clean. Whether you pay off a credit card or give it to someone who needs it more, that’s your decision.”
“You wouldn’t be offended if I give it away?”
“JoJo, I intended to drink more than five hundred dollars’ worth of booze a day until New Year’s. If anything, I should be donating the difference to a charity. I just told you how bloody special it feels not to be spending Christmas alone. Please, let me pay my way.”
I waited for JoJo to calculate how much effort that would have taken. Serious drinking, yeah and I’ve done it each year since I was old enough to use my real id.
“I was a bitch, sorry.”
Whether she meant it or not, I didn’t care. We were talking and that had to be a good thing. “I suppose I can be a stubborn jerk, at times.” I felt the need to admit to a fault thrown at me by various girlfriends—on their way out the door.
To my surprise, JoJo’s laughter filled the restaurant. Hysterical, manic laughter. As if I had unleashed some brilliant joke.
“What?” The glances from other diners should have been embarrassing but were easily ignored.
“You say it, but you don’t believe it.”
“Say what?”
“You don’t think you’re stubborn.”
Okay, she caught me out. “No, I’m not.”
“Your music or no music?”
“Yes, but—”
“The whole calling an ambulance, taking me to hospital and insisting on driving to Adelaide.”
“Most would call me a gentleman, or considerate.”
“The side of the bed, what you have for breakfast, down to money.”
“My last girlfriend didn’t believe in compromising.” I’d never admitted how Candy had tarnished my views on dating and women. “Our entire relationship became about me proving myself by ignoring what I wanted for whatever she did. The movies we watched were hers, I switched brands of milk, coffee, bread, even where to shop because it made her happy.”
“What happened?”
“She couldn’t see herself growing old with a corporate negotiator. She thought I was wasting my law degree and should move into something that sounded better, could turn into partner.” The joke had been on her when I formed my own company and blew the competition out of the water. A year ago, she’d wanted us to get back together—on her terms of course. I gave her a wide pass. But from recent social media posts and messages, she’d moved on in a way that made my skin crawl. “Candy’s now someone else’s nightmare, although I doubt he sees her like that.”
“Oh.”
A single word, but somehow, I knew JoJo understood.
“Look, I don’t like compromising in relationships now, because I don’t know where it will end. I don’t trust that next time there will be enough of me to pick up the pieces.” I’d never tried the honesty line before, never cared enough to open up.
Never cared enough to have the strength to be vulnerable.
“Then talk to me.”
“Like you talked to me after we left Wagga?”
“No, how about we admit today hasn’t been my finest—but didn’t I pay for it having to watch the dry and dusty fields go by? I mean, next time we fight, can it not be when I get punished with five hours of Hay plains?”
“I’m thinking an island-hopping cruise.” With my failed love life behind us, I could now laugh and even though it started as tentative, I knew JoJo wanted to join in if I gave her enough of a reason. “How about we go to the most romantic island in the world, have an enormous fight and instead of making love all week, you sit and sulk while drinking cocktails.”
“I want Round Two.” JoJo said, finishing the last of her drink. I waited for her to tell me whether we were going another round in bed or another argument, but she sat still. Waiting for me to make a move.
“What do you want to fight about this time?” I’d never been one to shy away from an argument, but this woman could match me for stubbornness, and I doubted any lawyer would be prepared to take her on. Hell, she had the broadest knowledge across any subject and the few times I’d excused myself to the bathroom to double check her facts, she’d been right. Even about the year of the infamous penalty try awarded in a rugby league grand final—1999 if you wanted to know. She could recite prime ministers, in order and even knew the names of all Victorian Cross recipients.
Seriously, I could take her anywhere and listen to her talk, argue, before carrying her home to my bed and loving her body all night long.
Instead of answering, she waited for me to repeat the question, not that it would change how I felt. “JoJo? Is it sport, politics, or religion? Pick your poison and decide what we’re gonna fight about this time.”
“Which side of the bed you want to sleep on.” She didn’t wait for my reaction, reaching for her crutches.
“Left, always the left.”
Unless, of course, she wanted the left and then I’d move to the middle.
Back to playing the starring role of the compromising sucker, all for the sake of a gorgeous woman. I could hear all my warning triggers going off but tried to convince myself JoJo was different.
Sweet mother of all holidays!
Okay, the moon boot and sling continued to pose some logistical challenges but having JoJo at my mercy made it even more fun. The woman knew how to laugh and make love in equal measures. Okay, it could have been sex, but I thought we’d had an emotional break-through and was willing to call it for what it could be.
Making love.
Out of nothing at all, or with everything to live for.
Our choice.
Right now, my choice was to make the most of her physical incapacity and guessed the moment she threw the sling aside and got rid of her boot, I’d be in trouble. There was a true joy in being able to control her body, feel her writhe at my touch. Having her trust that I wouldn’t push beyond her limits, but would have fun as we found them, together.
Only one hand to pin to her pillow while my tongue could drive her wild. Circling around her nipple without touching the peak. I wanted nothing more than to impale her to the sheets and drive her into next week, but I figured that as soon as she got full use of her limbs back, I was in trouble.
So, I might as well take advantage of her.
“This bed is softer,” she moaned as I struggled to hold myself above her, sinking into the soft down cover.
“That’s the only thing that’s soft.”
“Really? Prove it.”
So, I did.
Once for me, once for JoJo and once again just to prove I could.
After all, she asked for it.
24 December
JoJo
In all the minutes I didn’t find Noel irritating, annoying and a stubborn bastard, I found myself unexpectedly and irreversibly falling in love.
Waking in his arms for the second day, my smile started before my eyes opened and heard him say, “Good morning, beautiful woman of mine.”
Of his.
He’d already claimed my body and was now claiming me, the whole of me as his. The feminist inside me cringed at how easily I caved. But the heart wanted what the heart wanted.
“Good morning, almost birthday boy.”
“Ouch, don’t remind me.”
“Actually, it’s a memory jogger that your fake girlfriend better go and buy you a fake birthday present before we get to Adelaide.”
“I thought we’d settled the fake argument!” Noel proceeded to tickle me until I swore there was going to be an accident.
“This, here.” He wrapped his fingers around mine and my face tingled at his touch. “Isn’t fake. I don’t know where it is going when we get back to Sydney, but we owe it to ourselves to find out. Okay?”
“You asking me a question?” I teased.
“Only if you give me the right answer.”
“Which is?”
“Remove the word, fake, from your vocabulary. I’d prefer you refer to me as your partner instead of boyfriend, but I’ll live with either.”
“How very democratic of you.”
“Not at all, now since I am out of emergency supplies, how about I go and rustle us up some coffee.”
We’d used up his stash of condoms from his wallet and car during the night and I’d thought that without a goal in mind, he’d roll back to his side of the bed and sleep.
I hadn’t counted on receiving an hour-long massage. Noel taking his time to get to know my entire body. Questioning me about each scar—which gave us the opportunity to compare upbringings.
His, growing up in boarding schools. Heavy with sports, fighting and resilient independence. Mine, as the only girl with brothers and a father who didn’t differentiate. Also, heavy with sports, judo and building a resilient independence from being different to the girly girls of my school.
Similar paths.
“No wonder we fight so much.” I hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.
“Huh? That was a bit random.”
“You and I. We aren’t so different.”
Noel came back to the bed, now wearing the same blue shorts from yesterday but with the awful Christmas t-shirt I’d bought for him. Nothing said love than a man willing to go out in public wearing my gift.
Kissing my forehead, nose, before finding my lips exactly where he’d left them, he mused, “Stubborn, always thinking we’re right, and fiercely independent.”
“Like I said, we’re similar.”
“Oh, no my beautiful vixen. I was describing you!”
My eyes flared as he continued to tease. “Me, I’m humble, willing to listen to all opinions and happy to take advice and help.”
“You forgot delusional and flexible with the truth.”
“These two days haven’t been boring. Is that what life would be like with you?”
“Life?” Until this morning, we’d never spoken about what happened after Boxing Day.
“Just wondering. How much of this spunky wild cat I’m sleeping with is real, and how much is fake?”
“I wouldn’t describe what we’ve done the past two nights as sleeping.” I pulled him to me, grinding my hips to his until Noel moaned. “Clumsy, inelegant, but not sleeping.”
“In my defense, I’ve been dealing with things that no mere male normally has to put up with.”
“And that is?”
“A woman who thinks she’s smarter than me—and probably is; a woman who is as sexy as all fuck—but wears it naturally and without pretense.”
“Keep going.” My smile couldn’t be broader if I tried.
“Who could have been killed because of me, and every time you wince when I’m trying to avoid hurting you, I feel it.”
“What?” He’d never spoken like this before. Usually, playful banter or sexy flirting.
Instead of answering immediately, Noel held still. Our eyes trying to have the conversation that needed to happen before we got to my parents, even though this thing between us was still so fresh and new.
“Noel, I’m fine. Banged up a little, but I’m fine.”
“Then promise me you’ll stick around until after this cast comes off, just so I can prove what a graceful lover I can be!”
“Your sexy doctor friend,” I started before Noel glowered. “Said I’d need to wear the cast for five to six weeks. Are you sure you can stick around for that long?”
I kept my tone light, not wanting Noel to hear my need for reassurance.
“Dunno.” Noel pulled away before crushing me into his chest. My heart starting again with his laughter. “If you can promise not to kill me within the next six weeks, I promise that the weekend after you get rid of this boot, we’ll go away. I don’t know where, and it won’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because, you won’t be leaving the room until you admit what a fantastic lover I am.”
The problem was, I already knew.
Noel Roberts had become my addiction.
Noel
I’d never been more nervous.
Not on my first day of boarding school, or when I invested my entire trust fund into building my company.
“I have a confession to make.” The Adelaide skyline appeared. Nowhere near the number of skyscrapers as Sydney or Melbourne. Most of the large buildings were churches.
“Do tell.” It was taking more effort to get JoJo to react to my bait. That didn’t make our discussions less passionate, but by now I’d started to know which topics she argued about for fun and when she cared.
“I forgot to buy my girlfriend a Christmas present.”
“Really? That’s unforgivable.”
“It gets worse.”
“Are you sure you want to keep
confessing?”
“I need clothes. As much as I appreciate this t-shirt that was given to me with such love,” I pulled at the souvenir shirt JoJo had bought out of spite in the middle of nowhere. “I want to make a better first impression on her parents.”
“Firstly, you need to understand that no one who loved you would give you that shirt.”
“Ouch, that’s a little harsh.”
“But true.”
“Hopefully, there’s a second.”
“Your girlfriend doesn’t need a present, she just wants you.”
I’d let her words wash over me. Filling me with awe and a feeling that could be love.
JoJo might have googled me by now, but even if she had, there was no way for her to find out the extent of my wealth. A few articles about my business accomplishments, but an expensive PR team played up my business success while downplaying my personal wealth. I invested my time and money in charities involved in homelessness and youth early intervention. I didn’t want to be on the radar for every other charity or person seeking a handout.
“You called yourself my girlfriend.”
“Partner sounds so business like.”
“You mean it sounds like a transaction, part of a pact.”
“Then I guess, that makes us fake partners.” JoJo turned to look out of the side mirror. “I won’t make that mistake again. Scratch the girlfriend comment. Partners it is.”
I’d been joking. Thinking that the pact she’d made with her friends was some harmless fun. Not realizing what life looked like through her eyes.
“I’m stopping in town.”
“Good luck getting a park.”
I double-parked close to the shops, expecting a parking ticket and knowing it would be worth it, so JoJo didn’t have to walk far. “I need to get a couple of things, meet you back here in an hour?” JoJo didn’t wait for an answer or to invite me to join her. I’d stuffed up. Again.
The truth was, I hated the label boyfriend. It sounded so temporary and childish. Someone you were destined to hook up with for a day or two before moving onto someone else.
Her Surprise Christmas Noel: Four women, one pact: find a date for Christmas (Christmas Kisses Book 2) Page 8