by Baird, Ginny
“I’m sorry I walked in on you that way,” Sarah began.
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. You had no way to know I was out here.”
“No.”
It niggled at Sarah that neither of them had brought up their previous night together. Her practical side longed to finally clear the air, but her more emotional self wasn’t sure she could take it. Being told by a guy why you weren’t appealing to him was never a joy. Although she’d guessed her besotted behavior had something to do with it, she’d always had a feeling there’d been something more. Something else about that evening she hadn’t completely understood.
They sat for a moment in awkward silence, both nibbling on cheese and crackers as the storm continued to rage outdoors. At this pace, there’d be no getting out of here tomorrow, or maybe even the day after that. Though it was hard to focus on leaving with the soft light from the kitchen surrounding Sarah in its homey glow. She looked so sweet sitting there in her pajama pants and sweatshirt, just like a vision from a dream. He’d watched her dreaming once before.
“Sarah?” he asked, then sipped from his wine. “Can I ask you a question?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Why did you tell me to go?”
She glanced at him, taken aback, as if she hadn’t expected the question. “Me?”
“Yes. You. And that was after a whole night of you begging me to—”
“Matt, I don’t see why you…” She set down her wine, seeming to grow uncomfortable. “What I mean is, that’s all ancient history.”
He set down his wine as well and laid his hand on top of hers. “Is it?”
Her cheeks colored slightly. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. That wasn’t me. I’m normally not like that.”
“Let’s hope not!” he said with a laugh.
She withdrew her hand, affronted. “What do you mean?”
“All sick and pukey? Most girls wouldn’t want to live through that twice.”
“Sick and…?” Her voice fell off with the shock.
“Yes, Sarah. You were deathly ill. All over your bridesmaid’s dress, in fact. I had to take it off to clean it.”
“I what?”
“That’s probably why you repeatedly begged me to please forget this in the morning.”
“I said that?”
“Well, yeah, between, you know…” He motioned with his hands, and she got the picture. “Not that I totally blamed you. I wasn’t up for remembering certain parts of it myself. Hang on, are you saying you don’t remember?”
She shook her head, her cheeks blazing brightly.
“Not even the part about making me swear I’d leave, just get out of your life, and never breathe a word about it to anybody?”
She pursed her lips, struggling with a murky memory. “I remember making you swear, swear…something.” Big brown eyes met his. “But to be honest with you, Matt, most of the night is a great big blur.”
“Then it’s a good thing nothing happened between us,” he said, lightly teasing. “For most men, that admission could be a killer.”
Her eyes lit with understanding. “So…we didn’t?”
“No.” He cocked his chin to the side. “We didn’t. Not that I didn’t want to, mind you. Especially when we first got back to your place, and you kissed me like a house on fire. Heck, I’m only human. But, I wouldn’t have. Never like that. Not once I realize your condition.”
“And all this time I thought…” She heaved a sigh of relief. “But, no?”
“Is that why you told me to leave?” he asked, his voice growing husky with the truth. “Because you thought I’d taken advantage of you?”
“I never blamed you. I thought it was both of us.”
“Oh, it was both of us, all right. Just not in the way that you imagined.”
She stared at him deeply, apology in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“I had no idea either,” he said softly. “No clue why you gave me the boot. While you’d told me to go throughout the night, I’d taken that to be the liquor—and possibly embarrassment—talking. I thought for sure once you woke up and saw things straight, we’d talk things out, maybe even laugh about them. But instead, you just handed me my coat and said—”
“I think you should go.” She hung her head, seeming to relive the moment.
“The truth is, I thought that we’d been getting along. Maybe had started something.”
She raised her eyes to his. In the ensuing quiet, Matt thought he could hear every drop of rain pinging on the tin roof. When she finally spoke, her lips trembled, and it was all Matt could do not to lean forward and kiss them. “I thought we’d started something too. But sometimes life has other plans, you know?”
He nodded like he understood, but the truth of the matter was he didn’t. “Was there somebody else at the time?”
She shook her head. “How about you?”
“Not then, for me either.” He studied her for a long beat. “And now?”
“I’m not seeing anyone, if that’s what you mean.”
He captured her in his gaze, wondering if there was a way they could start over. There had clearly been an attraction between them in the beginning. “Me either.”
“Matt,” she said sincerely, “I really apologize for what happened that night, and also for the way I judged you afterward. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. I see that now.”
“We all make mistakes.”
One of the biggest he’d made was failing to pursue things with Sarah. He might have called the next day. Attempted to see her. Instead, he’d just up and walked away from what could have been the best thing in his life. Then, within the next few weeks, he’d met Katya.
“Thank you for saying that. That’s really gracious, considering the trouble I put you through.”
“No trouble. I’m sure you would have done the same,” he said, knowing that would have proved logistically difficult. Matt tried to imagine the petite Sarah hoisting his large frame across the room and depositing it in bed, and chuckled out loud.
“I know,” she said, smiling softly. “Pretty hard to imagine, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you think the roads will look tomorrow?”
“I’ll check at first light.”
Chapter Four
The next morning, Matt bent toward the washed-out road, wearing his rain slicker. Water streamed from the front of his hood, cascading down his nose. It was still pouring. Somehow it seemed twice as hard as yesterday. Nobody could get traction on this stretch of beach now. Not even a ranger’s four-wheel drive could do it. He was here for the duration. Another day or two at least. He supposed he’d have to break the news to Sarah but hoped she wouldn’t take it badly. She’d seemed more at ease in his company this morning, after they’d cleared the air about Elaine’s wedding last night. Perhaps her appearing on edge before had to do with her misunderstanding what had really happened. Matt felt a whole lot better fully knowing what had happened as well.
He glanced back toward the house through a curtain of rain as thunder rumbled above. Bright light burned through each window, like warming lanterns speckling the storm. If things looked this bad here, they could be even worse down at the docks. He’d need to call and check on the status of the ferry. He figured Sarah would want to make it home for Christmas Day with her family, and he’d more or less promised Robert he’d share it with him and his wife. For the moment, though, he’d just need to make his way indoors to keep from getting further drenched.
“How does it look?” she asked when Matt stepped inside.
Matt removed his dripping coat and held it outside the door, shaking it hard. “Not good. That road won’t be passable today.”
“Oh.” Sarah tried to frame her response as mild disappointment, but inwardly her mood lightened. All night long, she’d relived Matt’s words telling her he wasn’t taken, as if he’d been hinting he wanted to give things with her another go. It w
as possible she’d misread his signals. There was an equal chance that, even if she hadn’t, she wasn’t fully ready. Ready to take the risk of telling the truth to yet another man.
Matt picked up the landline mounted on the kitchen wall and started to dial. “I think I’d better call the ferry and see what the status of things is there.”
While Sarah couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, she could imagine as Matt creased his brow and said, “Uh-huh. Um-hmm. I see.
“I’m sorry, Sarah,” he told her, hanging up the phone. “It seems the docks took quite a beating. They don’t think the boat will be running again before the end of the week.”
“End of the week? But that means—”
“Looks like we’re stuck here for Christmas.” He shrugged apologetically. “I’m sure that’s the last thing you had in mind.”
Actually, the only plans that she had involved spending another uncomfortable holiday with her mom and her mom’s new boyfriend. Not that they tried to make her feel in the way. It was just that it was pretty clear they enjoyed spending time alone, making Sarah feel like a third wheel. A lovely fantasy began unfolding before her… Just her and Matt, and a big, wonderful Christmas tree, dotted with shiny lights… Then reality sank in, and Sarah realized they had no tree or presents or stockings to hang from the mantel. And here she was acting like she’d already had three hits of eggnog. With bourbon! “Are you sure?” she asked, trying not to sound overly hopeful.
Matt studied her with a frown. “You’re pretty disappointed. I can understand that. You probably have family plans.”
Her mom didn’t even decorate for Christmas and had never really believed in the holiday for myriad reasons. So, they typically ordered take-out Chinese and watched a movie in front of the fake fire. That was the only sort of family holiday Sarah was used to.
“My family’s plans will likely go on without me,” she answered truthfully. “But what about yours?”
Matt laughed, stepping out of his drenched boots. “Oh, I think Robert, Margaret, and their new baby will manage just fine.”
“You weren’t planning to go to Chicago?” she asked, remembering the large, happy family she’d met at Elaine’s first wedding.
“My brother and sisters and I sent our folks on an anniversary trip to Tuscany this year. It’s their fortieth anniversary.”
“Oh, how sweet!” she said, meaning it absolutely. Sarah tried but couldn’t imagine what that would be like. Being a part of such a warm, loving family and having parents who’d stayed together for that many years. She didn’t even remember her father, and her mom refused to say much about him. The men she remembered growing up with were a series of short-term boyfriends for her mom, none of whom ever stuck around. Sarah had liked one of the early ones when she’d been a kid. His name had been Joey, and he’d a few daughters of his own. He was a kind man who’d seemed to take an interest in Sarah from the start. He took her out for ice cream with his own girls and had even taught her how to ride a bike. He’d been a good guy but somehow not good enough for her mom. She’d thrown him over for Fred just about the time Sarah got off her training wheels.
“Don’t you think Robert and Margaret will miss you?”
“With that new little bundle to keep them busy?” he said with a smile. “Not a chance.”
Lightning crackled, and Sarah stared out the rain-streaked window. “So, what do we do?”
Matt carted his backpack toward his bedroom with a wink. “Make the best of it.”
After a soup and sandwich lunch, Sarah found herself chatting easily with Matt before a roaring fire. She’d made them coffee while he’d gotten the fire started, and now they sat discussing their afternoon plans. They’d already had a great time sorting through the house’s stash of holiday movies and board games, so they had a sense of what type of entertainment was in store. Being stuck here with Matt wasn’t going to prove uncomfortable at all. In fact, Sarah decided it could be a whole lot of fun. Just as long as she could keep her heart in check, she thought with a sigh.
“So, what’s on the agenda?”
“Well, I don’t think we’ll be swimming today,” he said with a teasing smile.
“No. You’re probably right about that. I think it’s cold enough to snow out there.”
“Now that would be something, wouldn’t it?”
“Snow at the beach? It happens.”
“Yeah, it happens. But around here, it’s rare.”
She smiled above the rim of her cup, enjoying their light banter. They’d both phoned their families to explain neither would be coming home, and incredibly, everyone seemed happy with the situation. As long as they were safe and had enough provisions to weather the storm, everybody understood. In fact, they were glad that Matt and Sarah had serendipitously wound up there together. How much nicer for the two of them that each wouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone. “So maybe we’ll have a white Christmas?”
“Ha! You’ll have to ask Santa for that.” He mischievously cocked one eyebrow and studied her. “Don’t tell me you’re too old to believe in Santa?”
Sarah thumbed her chest. “Me? No. It’s just that I’ve never had the pleasure.”
“Of what?”
“Meeting Santa. Knowing him, whatever.”
He stared at her aghast. “Are you telling me, not even as a kid?”
Sarah shook her head. “Cheryl doesn’t believe in such.”
“Cheryl?”
“My mom. She wanted me to start calling her Cheryl when I was, oh…about eleven.”
“Really? Why?”
“Once I hit puberty…” She felt her face flush. “Well, I guess the thought of having a daughter my age made her feel old.”
“Ouch.”
“It’s okay. I got over it.”
“Not having a mom?”
“Oh, I had a mom. She was just…different. You know?”
He nodded like he was trying to understand, but Sarah didn’t see how he could completely. Not coming from the background he did, which was so diametrically different. “So, what about Christmas, then? If there was no Santa, how did you celebrate?”
“Generally with moo shu pork and gas logs.”
“Were you happy that way?”
“It was the only way I knew. I mean, sure. I heard the other kids in school bragging about what they got for Christmas and stuff, but after a while I learned not to worry about it. My mom always got me what I needed and didn’t want to fill my head with bubble-headed fantasies anyway.”
“Like the notion of Santa Claus and make-believe and dreaming impossible dreams?”
“Yes.”
Matt’s gaze was lined with compassion. He was trying to read her, and Sarah felt as open as a book. “I see.”
“It wasn’t so bad, really,” she said, trying to lighten the moment.
Matt smiled at her, his face brightening. “No, I’m sure it wasn’t. Who’s to say which way is better? One person’s childhood or another? I had a big brother to beat up on me.”
“Robert?”
“Yeah, but he did so in a loving way.” He shot her a wry smile. “And I still have the scars to prove it.”
“Oh!” Sarah replied, not knowing whether he was kidding.
“So, come on,” he said. “Let’s decide what’s next. Between the two of us, we’ve clearly brought enough provisions to get by. But did either of us plan for anything fun?”
“Fun?”
“Yeah, you know. Something to get us in the holiday spirit?”
“Well,” Sarah began tentatively, “I had planned to make Christmas cookies while I was here. Take them home for the holiday.”
“Perfect!” Matt said with a grin. “I’m in.”
A little while later, Sarah found herself standing at the kitchen counter with Matt. He’d located Robert’s CD collection and put on some music. With it turned up loud, they could scarcely hear the howling winds below the sultry collection labeled Rainy Day Blues. Nothing coul
d have been more appropriate. Waves crashed outdoors and windy gusts slammed the house, though inside they were safe and warm.
“Well, go on,” he said. “Lay it on me.”
She looked up at him, and her knees went weak. All this light chatter with Matt had gone right to her head just like a million champagne bubbles. He was so easy to be with. Fun and lighthearted too. Was it any wonder she’d crushed on him so badly three years ago? But now she was getting to know him better—which made things worse. If only she could believe that certain things wouldn’t matter to him.
“The supplies?” he said, reading her dumbstruck look. “What did you bring?”
“Oh, that,” she said, feeling she sounded a bit dopey. This was crazy, and she knew it. All they were doing here was making Christmas cookies. It wasn’t like they were slathering each other all over with icing. Her face flamed hot as she feared he’d read her thoughts. Of course she wouldn’t be coating Matt with icing. That was to be reserved for the cookies. But wasn’t he a dish? Yummy.
“Sarah?”
She swallowed hard, collecting herself. Before they’d started to cook, Matt had offered to serve some wine. After all, they still had that open bottle from their late-night snacking… At the time, she’d been feeling so good and confident in her abilities to resist him that this had sounded fine. Now Sarah wondered if that had been such a great idea.
“Ah, yeah,” she said, opening the refrigerator to retrieve the limp tube of sugar-cookie dough. She absolutely, positively, had to get herself under control.
Matt looked down at the dough, then right in her eyes. “Slice and bake?”
“I brought icing,” she said lamely, hoping he couldn’t read between the lines.
Matt took the cookie dough from her and set it on the counter, shutting the refrigerator door. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve never made sugar cookies from scratch?”
“Well, no,” she said feeling her face warm with embarrassment. “No, actually I haven’t. Is that a problem?”
He slowly stroked his chin and studied her. “No, darling, it’s not a problem at all. I was just wondering…” His lips creased in a subtle smile. “If you’d like to learn?”