Ruined: A Contemporary Bad Boy Romance

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Ruined: A Contemporary Bad Boy Romance Page 79

by Lisa Lace


  I’m taking Megan to the mall to do some Christmas shopping. She’s been doing a lot better since she came back. We haven’t spoken much about it. She and Tom have kept the whole thing under wraps, and I’ve decided not to interfere. It’s good to see the two of them growing closer, developing trust.

  The mall is packed to the rafters with Christmas shoppers. But even though it’s chaos, I kind of like it. The mall is decked out in Christmas decorations, with fiberglass reindeer, bright lights, and baubles hanging from the ceiling. Up on the second floor, you can look out over the balcony and see Santa’s grotto down below, a line-up of excited kids. Every shop has a Christmas song playing. It feels festive. All the drama and tragedy of the last couple of months is like a distant memory.

  “We’ve made it to Christmas!” I say brightly. “I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to a nice family Christmas.”

  I say the words, and then realize that I’m not really family. I’m once again hit with the cruel reminder that I’ve only been borrowing Laura’s life. Soon you’ll be back to your lonely apartment.

  Megan smiles. “Me, too. It’s been a tough few months. I’m looking forward to Mom coming home.”

  The doctors predict that Laura will be able to come home just before New Year’s. It is wonderful news. Now we’re all counting down the days to when she’s home, and trying to enjoy the holidays the best we can while she’s still in the hospital.

  “Got any gift ideas?” I ask.

  “I was thinking I’d get Mom some audiobooks. I know she’s bored to death in that place, and her favorite author has a new release.”

  “That’s a great idea. She’ll appreciate that. What about your uncle?”

  Megan smiles. “I’ve thought about that.”

  I wonder what she has in mind. I don’t have the first idea what to buy Tom. What do you get the man who has everything?

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m going to get him one of those calendars that you can print with your own pictures.” She pulls out a USB from her coat pocket and shows it to me. “I’m going to get one printed with pictures of me, Mom and Jack, so Uncle Tom doesn’t forget us when he goes back to New York.” She shrugs. “I know it’s stupid and sentimental, but I’m going to miss him when he’s gone. Maybe he’ll even miss us, too.”

  Inside, my heart is breaking. The reality that Tom is going to leave after the holidays is starting to sink in, and I’m not prepared. I smile. “I know he will.”

  We pass a café. I can smell the freshly ground coffee and sweet treats inside. I nod toward the door. “Want a hot chocolate?”

  “Sure.”

  Inside is crammed with dozens of shoppers. The counter is surrounded by customers waiting for their drink orders to be filled. I look up at the board behind the counter. The menu is full of Christmas specialties with festive twists—gingerbread lattes, candy cane hot chocolates, mulled wine herbal tea.

  “Ooh, this looks good.” I grin. “I’m going to have a gingerbread latte and one of those little peppermint macaroons. What about you?”

  “Hot chocolate, please.”

  “Macaroon?”

  “Can I have one of those candy cane brownies?”

  “Of course!”

  I order us both a drink and sweet treat, and we wrestle our way upstairs and manage to find a table for two against the back wall. It’s sweltering inside the coffee shop, the heat of all those shoppers and their coffees filling the room. It’s hard to move among all the bags on the floor and coats slung over the backs of seats, but we manage to get seated at last.

  “Wow, it’s busy in here,” Megan says.

  I grin. “Christmas.”

  “What are you going to get Mom and Tom?”

  “I’m getting your mom this cushion with robins on it. She loves robins, and I thought she’d need propping up for a while when she gets out of the hospital.”

  “She’ll like that. What about Uncle Tom?”

  I frown. “I have no idea.”

  “You should make some big romantic gesture.”

  I raise my eyebrows. I always forget how astute Megan is. She’s known about Tom and me from day one. She’s missing nothing now.

  Megan smiles, stirring her hot chocolate with a long, thin spoon and licking excess whipped cream off her fingers, then nods. “Like giving him the key to your apartment in a little box or a promise ring. Something like that. Something to show him that it’s not going to end after Christmas. I mean…it’s not going to end after Christmas, is it?”

  I smile. “What would your mom say if she knew I was gossiping with you about your uncle and me?”

  “She’d pour a glass of wine and join in.”

  I laugh. Megan’s right—Laura’s been behind the idea of Tom and me from the beginning. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen between us when the holidays are over. Your uncle has business in New York, and my life’s here.”

  Megan looks down at the table for a moment, then back at me. “You could go to New York with him.”

  “I don’t think I’m cut out for the Big Apple.”

  “You’d really let it come to an end?”

  “I’m not saying that, sweetie. I’m just preparing myself for the possibility that sometimes these things don’t work out. Your uncle’s a very busy man. Once he’s back in the city, I know that work will take over. Think about how long it took him to come visit you guys! Tom has always put work first.”

  “But he’s different now.”

  I smile. Megan’s tugging at my heartstrings, but I know I have to be real with myself. Tom is going to leave when the holidays are over, and he might not come back. “Well, let’s hope I’m wrong. I’d love to carry things on with Tom.”

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  I laugh, my skin flushing red. “Megan! I shouldn’t be talking about this with you.”

  Megan lifts her chin defiantly. “I’m fifteen, Aunt Zoe, and I’m not blind. Mom and I talk about you two all the time. It’s hardly a state secret. I won’t pass anything on to him. Come on, Aunt Zoe, you can talk to me.”

  My eyes prickle with tears, and I blink them back. I don’t want Megan to see me cry and realize how much I adore her uncle. I swallow.

  “I care about him a lot. I enjoy his company. But with what happened with your mom and everything, it’s been a strange situation. People always feel close in tough situations. It’s easy to feel close when we’re living under one roof and spending lots of time together. It won’t be the same long-distance.”

  “Sometimes it works out,” Megan insists. She casts me a hopeful smile. “Don’t forget that he’s Thomas Vermont. He can make things happen.”

  “A weekly private jet to my front door?”

  Megan laughs. “Why not?”

  I change the subject. “Enough about Tom and me. What about you and Justin? You guys still haven’t made up?”

  Megan’s face darkens, and she looks down at her drink. She gives a tight little shrug and clears her throat. “No. We’re not speaking. And we won’t. Ever.”

  I still don’t know what happened the night that Megan went missing, or how Justin was involved. All I know is that whatever happened that night caused a rift between them that has been irreparable. I’m sad for Megan, and how much the break-up has hurt her. But I’m also secretly a little relieved. Since she’s broken up with Justin, Megan has spent more time at home and grown closer to us; some of that attitude has melted.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  Megan lifts her chin and smiles fiercely. “Don’t be. He was a jerk. I’m better off without him.”

  “Good for you, Meg. Give it time. You’ll find someone special. You’re still young.”

  But my heart is left aching. The thought of Tom leaving is unbearable, and every time it’s entered my mind, I’ve pushed it back down.

  I’ve gotten used to having Tom in my life. I’m used to waking up to the smell of pancakes and finding him d
ownstairs, wearing a towel over his shoulder and a grin. I’ve grown used to jumping in his car after a long day at work, to exchanging knowing glances over dinner. To teasing each other over silly little things and talking about the kids.

  Life with Tom feels real; it feels like mine. The truth is, it’s not really my life, and our time together is coming to an end.

  I drink the last syrupy mouthful of my coffee and force a grin. “Come on, Meg. Let’s go to that game store. I’m going to get Jack something new for his DS.”

  Megan finishes her drink, and we leave. Even watching her walking around the shops makes my heart break a little. For just a short while, I was more than their mom’s friend on the sidelines. I’m going to miss those kids.

  Tom

  Over the weekend, we go to pick out a tree. It’s freezing cold outside, and we’re all dressed up in hats, scarves, and boots.

  It’s busy at the tree farm. There are families everywhere. Kids run around with excitement, each trying to find the tallest, bushiest tree. Some of them pick up handfuls of snow, throwing them at each other from behind the pines.

  We look just like any of those other families. Megan and Zoe stroll side by side, talking and laughing. Jack is trying to run ahead, pulling me along by my hand, pointing at this tree and that.

  I try to keep up with him. My eyes keep wandering back over to Zoe. She looks beautiful this morning. She’s wearing a grey knitted hat with a snowflake pattern, ear flaps, and two braids. Her long red hair spills out from under the wool. She’s wearing no makeup, but her skin is bright, flushed in the cold air. Her smile is wide and joyful. Among all the white and green, she stands out like a fire.

  She’s caught up in the moment, as eager as Jack to pick out the perfect tree. She lets Megan and Jack go ahead and falls back to take my hand. She looks up at me with a warm smile.

  “This was a great idea, Tom. The kids have never had a real tree before.”

  “We get one every year at the office. They set it up in the lobby of the New York office. You should see it—two stories tall and covered in lights. It’s something.”

  “What about at your home in New York? Do you have a tree there?”

  I shake my head. “No. It seems a bit too much to decorate the apartment only for me.”

  “I’ve had years where I’ve been tempted to skip it. It’s a lot of effort to string up tinsel just for myself to look at, but I never regret it. There’s something about a tree in the corner and stockings on the wall that make me smile. It’s Christmas.”

  “Do you usually spend the holidays with Laura?”

  Zoe smiles down at the ground then looks back up at me and nods. “She’s always treated me like family. Without her, it would be a TV turkey dinner for one. What about you? What does Christmas in New York look like?”

  “A party every night from November first to Christmas Eve.”

  “And then?”

  “Christmas day I wake up and keep working. In the evening, I’ll open one of my vintage bottles of brandy and have a few drinks.”

  Zoe looks sorry for me. “That doesn’t sound like too much fun.”

  “I guess Christmas is for families.”

  “It’s been fun this year. I mean, except for what Laura’s been going through, obviously; but the rest of it. This stuff, like Christmas shopping and picking out the tree. I’m feeling the Christmas spirit this year.”

  I close my fingers around hers. “Me, too.”

  It’s Jack who finds the Christmas tree. It’s a tall, fat pine with loose needles that scatter from every slight moment.

  He grins. “This one!”

  “This one?” I examine the tree up and down. “I’m not sure that one will fit in your mom’s house.”

  “Please, Uncle Tom? Look how fat it is!”

  I can’t say no. I grin. “This is our tree.”

  We return home, and the tree is delivered within the hour. My predictions were right—it’s so tall that it scrapes the ceiling. But Jack leaps into the air to catch the top of the tree and swings on it until it bends into submission, bowing in the living room, so large that it obscures half the TV. Needles spray everywhere. The whole room smells like pine.

  Zoe comes in with armfuls of boxes full of baubles, tinsel, and other decorations. She puts on a Christmas CD, and we all decorate together.

  I’ve never understood Christmas before. It’s always seemed like a bunch of stupid rituals that people put themselves through in some vain attempt to prove their family loyalty.

  Not this year. This year, I feel some of that magic. Decorating the tree isn’t a dumb chore, it’s a fun way to spend time with my niece and nephew.

  The room is filled with excitable conversation and laughter as we hang the decorations on the branches and playfully argue with each other over where each one should go. Finally, there is only the star left.

  I hoist Jack onto my shoulders, star in hand, and he reaches to balance it on the top of the bent-over tree. He manages to wedge it on, and everyone cheers. Megan flicks the switch on the lights, and the tree glitters with golden sparkles.

  Jack is hopping from foot to foot with excitement. “I can’t wait!”

  Zoe looks over to me; she’s beaming. I grin right back. The tree is up, the kids are laughing; between us, we’ve got kind of a knack for this Christmas thing.

  We stay up late watching Christmas movies and eating too much chocolate. Jack laughs hysterically at every lame pun, squirming when he giggles. Megan pushes his feet off her, reaching for another chocolate and grinning. Zoe rests her head in her hand, her elbow propped up on the arm of the sofa, a smile on her face.

  Finally, the kids go to bed, and I close the gap between Zoe and me on the sofa. She gladly falls against my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist. She lets out a satisfied sigh. “That was a good day.”

  I place my hand under her chin and gently lift her face. I see the surprise in her eyes before my kiss catches her, then she sinks into it.

  We say nothing.

  The credits of the last film we watched are still playing on the TV. The only light in the room comes from the twinkling tree.

  I slip my arm under Zoe’s legs and lift her. She wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. Her eyes are filled with affection; she smiles up at me like I’m the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

  I carry her upstairs to Laura’s bedroom, shutting the door behind us.

  We sit side by side on the bed. Zoe’s wearing a long, thin sweater over a tank top. I pull off the sweater, then pull back the strap of her top to kiss her shoulder. I raise my lips to her collarbone, then her throat, kissing every inch of her skin that my lips can find. She tastes like perfume.

  Zoe places one hand gently on the back of my head. Her fingers slip through my hair. My cock swells at her touch. Her lips are soft and gentle, her tongue seeking mine.

  I rest my palms on her ribcage, feeling her body rise and fall with each breath. She lowers herself back onto the mattress, pulling me down with her. I wrap my arms around her, and we tumble on the bed like teens. Every time Zoe lifts her mouth to catch another kiss, it makes my heart ache with yearning. She’s everything I want.

  She pulls my T-shirt over my head, then traces her hands over my chest. Her fingertips are cool and teasing. My cock aches with desire.

  I pull off her shirt and unfasten her bra. I bow my head to her chest and close my lips around her nipple, letting my tongue wander across her flesh, then gently nibbling. She lets out a soft, long breath filled with pleasure.

  She opens my jeans and slips a hand inside, beneath my briefs. She closes her fingers around my throbbing cock; it grows harder at her touch. I watch her lips part with desire when she feels how hard I am for her. She lets out a soft, longing breath, moving her hand up and down. I press my mouth down over hers, kissing her hard.

  I peel Zoe’s jeans away from her legs, followed by her panties. She parts her legs for me. I press my fingers a
gainst her warm, wet clit and rub. Zoe stretches her hands out above her head, closing her eyes in bliss.

  Her body lays before me, bare and waiting. My heart races in my chest, my mouth grows dry. She’s so beautiful.

  I stroke her clit until Zoe bites down on her lip, then press harder and faster until she comes, her hands clasping at the pillowcases.

  She sits up and pulls my pants away. There is an urgency in her movements. She goes from kissing me to tearing off my clothes, not wanting to waste a moment of intimacy.

  We’re both naked. Zoe’s body is slender but full of curves in the right places. She lifts her eyes to catch mine and smiles in welcome.

  I position myself and enter her. She gasps at the first thrust, letting her head fall back, her eyes shut. She opens them, then lifts her upper body, encircling her arms around me, holding onto me as I kiss her deeply, pounding into her.

  She leans into each thrust, inviting me deeper. I rock into her as deeply as I can, growing faster with each stroke. I press a thumb down against Zoe’s clitoris, and she stifles a moan.

  I move faster and faster until I’m on the edge of orgasm. I massage my thumb against Zoe’s clit until she comes, and then I follow, feeling a hot-and-cold rush as I finish. Breathless, I kiss Zoe once more before I roll to her side, then pull her into my embrace.

  Her hair is ruffled, her face flushed. I know I’m the only one who sees her like this. It makes me feel close to her. I hold her close to my chest, kissing her forehead.

  Zoe is the first to speak. “Christmas is almost over.”

  “Christmas hasn’t come yet.”

  “It’ll be the New Year before we know it.” She twists to look up at me. There’s a question in her eyes; a question I don’t know how to answer. What happens next?

  Zoe

  It’s Christmas Eve. We’ve all just returned from a hospital visit with Laura, and now the day is drawing to an end.

  I sit on the sofa, watching as Tom plays his role of super-uncle to perfection. He comes in from the kitchen with a plate of cookies in one hand, a glass of milk in the other, and a carrot tucked under his arm. He lays the milk and cookies down on the coffee table.

 

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