Home For Christmas

by Patricia Potter

  Damn. If he..

  Then what? What in the hell did he have to offer her? No one would even rent an apartment to him He was subject to supervision for the next ten years. He couldn’t leave the state, nor move, nor change jobs without approval The list of parole restrictions was staggering.

  Today’s freedom had been fine, even heady, but all the time he knew how fragile it was

  Yet he couldn’t make himself leave as he knew he should. Instead, he took a step toward her.

  Her eyes locked with his, she moved forward. The rose m her cheeks had spread, and he knew if he reached out he would feel its heat.

  Then she stood directly in front of him, her face tilted up to his, her gray eyes smoky with emotion Her hand reached out and touched his, her fingers exploring the calluses on his hands with a searching tenderness. He found himself lifting it, the back of his hand caressing her cheek even as he locked her fingers in his Soft. So very soft And more So much more Sun to a soul frozen by time. His arms went around her, and he heard her slight intake of breath as she stretched against his body, fitting into it as if she belonged there.

  The ache inside became a throbbing, insistent thing. He lowered his head and his lips met hers, merely brushing hers at first. Their breath intermingled, and his heartbeat quickened, pounding against its cage. Then, finding response, his lips pressed hungrily against hers. Her arms went around him, and he felt himself exploding with a desire long held in check. His mouth opened, his tongue urging her lips to open to him, and they did. He tasted her for a moment, finding the effects irresistible, his pleasure melting all the warnings echoing m his brain.

  Her body trembled even as it fit into his so neatly, so perfectly, and he released her lips “Julie” His voice was a soft groan that came from deep in his throat. He wanted her so damn badly, but he wouldn’t force anything she wasn’t ready for

  Something like a purr came from her, and he nearly threw her over his shoulder and earned her to the sofa. Every fiber of his body burned. Every instinct told him to take her, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  What in the hell are you doing? The voice that had guided him through the past months was yelling at him Instinct warred against hard learned lessons, against the self-discipline he’d worked so hard to develop. Summoning every ounce of control he had, he stepped away and swore under his breath. Remember who you are, what you are. Hell, where he was He stood there, his body aching, and his heart hurting, telling himself to leave, but unable to do so.

  He saw the anguish in her face. The need was there, as well as in him He felt his body trembling with it, with the overwhelming power it had He felt the bulge straining against his jeans, the pain of its urgency, the driving agony of the pressure building inside him.

  The scent of desire enveloped him. Its pull drew his hand to her face before falling to his side. With a groan, he moved farther away and went to stand in front of the window, staring out with eyes that saw nothing. Lust and need danced with something even more elemental. the yearning for affection, even love His body and mind felt like a battlefield. A decimated battlefield full of wounded.

  A hell of a gift for a woman Especially one who had given him so much

  And who held his freedom in her hand.

  He felt her presence next to him

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  “Why?” The simple question surprised him.

  “I can think of a hundred reasons.”

  “That many?” Her voice was low but suddenly he heard a hint of amusement, almost as if she was teasing him.

  For a moment, he felt his lips twitch The irreverent reply was totally unexpected.

  He turned to face her. “Probably a few more,” he said softly. If only she weren’t so pretty, so desirable. If only her upper lip wasn’t swollen from their kiss. If only her eyes weren’t misty from what could only be described as passion If only he didn’t want to lose herself in her.

  If only..

  But he knew the realities of his life And all of them spelled grief for her. Leaving her alone was the one and only gift he could give her in return for all she’d done.

  “I’d better go,” he said, turning away from her, moving swiftly toward the hall leading to the kitchen. He was aware that she was trailing him. He prayed that the evidence of his erection would disappear, that the pressure inside him would fade, but it only seemed to grow greater.

  “Ryan?”

  He turned.

  She stood still, her face still flushed, but her eyes were clear. “Don’t be sorry,” she said. “I had as much to do with it as you did.” She bit her lip “I won’t let it happen again ”

  “That might be difficult,” he said dryly Probably impossible.

  Nothing’s impossible. Dr. Dailey’s words. Ryan had tried to believe it. Now he wondered. God help him, how was he going to keep his hands off her? Yet he must. He owed her too much to destroy her life, as he’d apparently destroyed so many others. Even if he had changed, he had far too much baggage to enter any relationship on an equal basis. And he couldn’t have any other kind.

  “You have to see the parole officer tomorrow,” she said “I’ll drive you.”

  “I can take a bus. I’ve taken far too much of your time.” He forced a coolness he didn’t feel

  “I’ll give you directions in the morning,” she said

  He nodded He had to get out before he grabbed her again.

  At least he had a shower. He needed one. A very cold one.

  Stunned by what had just happened, by her own behavior, Julie stood stone still for several moments. One moment she was a sensible mother and attorney, the next she was acting like a lovestruck teenager, unable to control herself.

  Shame washed over her. And determination that it wouldn’t happen again

  She would just have to find Murphy another apartment. A rented house. A halfway house, if necessary. That last thought was repugnant. She was familiar with them, knew the lack of privacy they offered.

  Still, she had to do something. Her body still sang with the sensations he’d aroused She’d been enveloped in some kind of magical cloud. Heck, admit it. Desire. Plain, unvarnished lust. It had been, after all, years since she’d last made love.

  Julie had known she shouldn’t have touched him, that she should have run as if the Furies were after her. She didn’t know what had happened in the past few moments, only that the attraction that always whirled around them suddenly became overpowering She had stood at the doorway, watching his eyes study the room with a longing that reached into her soul. He had looked so alone, and yet she remembered his gentleness with her son. He had been exactly right with Nick, and it had not been pretense. She watched and she wondered again how it must be to remember nothing and cope, the mner strength it must take to relearn everything and do it without bitterness or anger.

  She thought about all of it, and her heart had cracked. All the physical attraction she’d felt between them exploded into pure need. When he had stepped toward her, she found herself reaching out a hand to him An invitation.

  A muscle had worked in his jaw as he looked at her, his dark blue eyes intense. She felt she could get lost in them, but then his lips pressed down on hers and she could think of nothing but the sensations flooding her. Her blood warmed, moving slow and languidly as his kiss deepened. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers catching a short lock of hair She felt the compulsive movement of his muscles flexing m response to her caress Then her hands tightened around his broad shoulders

  She still remembered the feel of his tongue probing tentatively inside her mouth, then teasing, almost seducing All the sensations she’d previously felt were beggared by the new ones, by the incessant wanting clamoring deep inside.

  She closed her eyes, recalling every movement, every warm, glowing moment. She’d never wanted a man as much as she wanted Murphy She’d never felt this bone-melting way before, not even in those first heady days with Douglas.

  E
ven now, she felt as if she was burning inside. She remembered how it felt leaning against him, how well the two of them fitted. She’d always heard cold showers helped. But for some reason she didn’t want one. She didn’t want that golden glow to dissipate

  She locked the door, then went back into Nick’s bedroom. She opened the door softly. His small body was curled under the covers, Prissy, who had been hiding in the bedroom during Ryan’s visit, snuggled next to him Dragon, his stuffed dinosaur, lay on his pillow. She quietly walked in and sat down on the bed, watching his soft breathing in the light from the other room. Her heart always turned to a puddle when she looked at him. She wanted to give him the world.

  She knew how much he’d wanted a father. She’d seen how quickly he warmed to Ryan. Was she setting him up for deep disappointment, for the same kind of terrible loss she’d felt at eight when her father disappeared? She’d waited for him for years to return, running to the door every time someone knocked or to the phone when anyone called. She knew that was why she’d stayed with Douglas, even after she realized the mistake she’d made.

  Would he have ever stooped to talk to a small boy?

  She doubted it.

  She tried to remember his face, but it was blurry. She remembered the impact of his charm, though. He was one of those people who was truly charismatic and when he wanted, he could charm birds from the trees.

  Murphy had none of that charm. Apparently he’d never had it But he radiated a quiet strength that she realized Doug had never had. God help her, she’d been his for the asking tonight, and he’d obviously wanted her, but he’d had the. .integrity to back away from a moment that they both might regret.

  She had not the slightest idea how she would handle that attraction between them in the future. But she must. For all their sakes. With a groan, she leaned down and kissed Nick, gathering up the blanket around his shoulders “I won’t ever let anything hurt you,” she whispered

  She stood and went to the window, where Murphy had stood moments earlier, his eyes staring blindly out. Her haven. Her burrow. The one safe place in all the world.

  She wasn’t so sure how safe it was any longer

  Ryan spent a sleepless night The bed was too soft, the room too large. His body had apparently become accustomed to the narrow prison bed with its thin, hard mattress and rough blankets.

  He tried not to think his sleeplessness might be caused by something else. Or someone else He tried not to remember how his body felt when he’d caught Julie Farrell at the restaurant, how neatly she’d fit into his arms. But his body continued to react to the memory despite the cold shower. Despite several cold showers.

  He found himself prowling the room and finally indulged himself with a sandwich and milk It was an extraordinary experience, choosing something for himself. He thought he could grow to like it. Then he turned on the television in desperation, hoping it would lull him to sleep, take his mind from the tormenting thoughts of the woman next door Instead, he heard a segment reporting his release and Julie Farrell’s role in his parole hearing

  “Mrs. Farrell, a former assistant district attorney, successfully represented former Detective Ryan Murphy at the hearing. Murphy rescued Mrs Farrell and her son from a burning car three months ago.

  Positioned in front of the sprawling Reidsville prison, the reporter continued for another moment before the anchorman cut him off to go to a train wreck.

  Ryan turned it off. He wondered whether the news stories about him would ever end.

  When dawn filtered through the windows, he pulled on the jeans and the same shirt he’d worn yesterday. Maybe he would get some work done in the yard. He opened the door, taking pleasure in that simple act and took the steps two at a time. He entered the garage. The car took up half of the garage A lawn mower, tools and boxes littered the second half.

  He went back outside The grass was a little long, but he didn’t think either Julie or her neighbors would be particularly pleased at his mowing the lawn this time of morning. Trees crowded the yard Two of them were surrounded by flower beds dominated by weeds He kneeled and started pulling.

  He’d cleared one bed when he was aware of Julie standing at the door. He wondered how long she’d been watching, and even how long he’d been working. Pleasure. It had been pure pleasure working in the dirt, doing something useful that produced results. The November air was cool, the early sun pleasant The earth felt good in his hands.

  He started to rise as she came down the steps and he brushed sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand

  She looked at the neat pile of pulled weeds, the cleared bed. “I didn’t mean you should work at the break of dawn. Or have you been here all night?”

  “I’m not used to soft beds,” he said. “I enjoyed this.” He hesitated, then said, “I must have done gardening before.” He realized it was kind of a question. He wondered whether she knew much about his other life, the one before prison

  “I don’t know,” she said. “You did have a home in DeKalb County which is mainly suburban with large yards.”

  “I want to know more about...Ryan Murphy ”

  She was silent. She was wearing blue slacks and a turtleneck sweater, and her dark hair had been brushed back and held by a simple silver clasp. If she’d had as bad a night as he had, she didn’t look it. Her gray eyes were clear, her skin glowing in the morning sun.

  “Can you tell me more than you have?”

  “A little, perhaps. But now I have to take Nick to school. And you need directions to the parole office ” She turned and headed back toward the kitchen. He put the garden tools down and followed her.

  Nick was eating breakfast and he beamed at him “‘Mornin’, Ryan”

  Ryan permitted himself a slight smile. “’Morning, Nicholas.”

  “I’m going to school.”

  “Your mother told me.”

  “Will you teach me how to play baseball when I get home?”

  “Mr. Murphy may not be here,” she said “I told you he’s going to work for Mr O’Donnell.”

  Ryan was grateful she didn’t tell the boy he first had to see his parole officer He wondered exactly how much she had told Nicholas, or how much the boy understood

  Nick’s face fell

  “We’ll try,” Ryan said, not sure whether Julie Farrell wanted him to spend time with her son. She was decidedly cool this morning. And why not, after he’d practically attacked her last night?

  “Mommy?”

  “We’ll see,” she said, not quite looking at Ryan as she found a piece of paper and brought it over to where he leaned against a counter. She put it down, then poured herself some coffee “Would you like some coffee?” she asked him.

  The coffee smelled wonderful. He hadn’t been sure how to make any, and so he’d just poured himself a glass of milk

  “Yes.”

  She already had a cup out and she poured coffee into it. “Sugar or milk?”

  “No.”

  She handed it to him silently, then took a pencil out of a drawer and returned to the blank piece of paper She wrote as she spoke. “When you go out the driveway, turn left. Go three blocks, then turn left again and go another block. That’s Peachtree Road. Go across the road, and you can catch a bus there. Ask the bus driver where to connect with a bus which goes to the Fulton County Courthouse You had better give yourself two hours. I’m not sure of the schedules.”

  He nodded

  “Are you sure I can’t give you a ride?”

  “I have to start doing things for myself someday. It might as well be today.”

  “When you get back, we’ll go see Mr. O’Donnell I’m working here at home today.”

  Thank God, she didn’t ask him if he had bus fare. He already felt as old as Nick. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  She looked at him sharply, then smiled sheepishly. “Did I sound that officious?”

  He took a sip of the coffee, expecting the same flat metallic taste as prison coffee Instead it had a rich arom
a and taste. He thought he’d never tasted anything so good But then, he had thought that a lot recently. “It’s good,” he said, avoiding her question.

  She avoided it, too. “I have to go. Nick and I will walk you outside.”

  He took another sip and started to leave the cup

  “Take it with you,” she said.

  Nick jumped out of his chair and went for the door, holding it open. When Ryan passed him, Nick grabbed his free hand “I’ll walk with you.”

  The hand felt very little, and fragile, in his big one, and yet he felt grateful for the trust it indicated. Yesterday’s warmth crept back inside as he listened to Nick’s chatter, trying to comprehend the stream of consciousness conversation He obviously made the right replies, because Nick smiled up at him.

  When they reached the garage, he opened it. Nick stopped and looked at his mother. “Where’s Abby?”

  “Her mother’s taking her today.”

  Ryan thought he heard a sudden tightness in her voice and he looked down at her.

  Her eyes had clouded. He suddenly wondered whether Abby’s absence had anything to do with him.

  He remembered the television report last night. The story was probably all over the newspapers, too

  Had he harmed her more than he thought?

  She flashed him a sudden smile “Good luck.”

  He found himself smiling back. His admiration for her climbed She never gave up.

  Well, hell, he wouldn’t either

  Chapter 11

  Ryan finished the coffee, took a shower, then changed clothes, putting on the long-sleeve white shirt and the clean pair of jeans

  He looked at a letter he’d been given just before leaving prison He was to report to a man named Davidson at the county courthouse today at 11:00 a.m. Julie—he couldn’t think of her any other way now—had told him he would probably have to report weekly

  He hated the idea. He was growing tired of every word, every movement being watched, being judged Ten years. Ten more years of walking on the sharp edge of a knife, knowing that one mistake could send him back to an existence that wasn’t worth living.