Matter of Fact

by Heidi Hutchinson

  Part of losing Miranda had also meant losing all of this—family. Something he hadn’t really ever had. His dad had been a harsh alcoholic and his mom was too terrified to live any kind of a life she wanted.

  Which meant Carl had spent holidays mostly watching TV. Watching what he wanted, and never being able to touch.

  Until Miranda.

  “And this one is from me,” she said, slipping him a box.

  “No, you have to open mine first.” He nudged the box on top of her pile that he’d wrapped himself.

  She eyed him carefully and tore open the paper and lifted the lid on the box.

  It was a pale pink wool coat with gray stitching. He’d spotted it in the store and had to get it. It matched her gray mittens and hat.

  “You got me a coat,” she said softly, her hands running over the thick fabric. She hauled it out and stood up, slipping it on immediately.

  The room got louder with “oohs” and “awes” as Miranda strutted back and forth showing it off.

  “You like it?” he asked when she returned to her seat beside him.

  “I love it,” she clarified, taking it off and tucking it to the side. “You give the best coats.” Her dark eyes sparkled in the low light.

  “It’s sort of our thing, isn’t it?”

  She nodded and leaned closer, pressing into his side. “Now open mine.”

  He removed the ribbon and paper and then opened the oblong box.

  From out of it, he slid a stainless-steel coffee carafe. He turned it over in his hands and spotted the custom engraving on the front.

  “World’s Greatest Carl.

  Manager-Dad-Friend”

  Carl swallowed hard as emotion threatened to close his throat.

  She had to have ordered this weeks ago. Long before he had remarked to her that he felt like the band’s dad.

  It solidified the growing suspicion he’d been having—she was different. But in only the ways she’d chosen to be.

  When they’d dated, dates, events, special moments were often overlooked because she could only focus on what had been stressing her out in the moment.

  Whatever shifts she’d made in the recent years, the result had been to reveal more of the heart he’d always seen in her.

  “Do you like it?” she asked cautiously.

  “It’s perfect.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.

  Piano music gently filled the quieting room and Harrison got out his guitar to join Mike. Greta, the youngest of the O’Neil siblings, slid onto the bench beside Mike and began to lead the family in Christmas songs.

  Pretty soon people were calling out their favorites and the evening had turned into more of a family jam party than anything else.

  “Oh, wait!” Sway stood up. “I have one. Mike and I have been working on it.”

  Sway had the (un)fortunate ability of being able to play pretty much any instrument handed to him. He took Harrison’s guitar and began the lovely strum at the beginning of a classic Boston song. Mike joined it and the rest of the band shifted closer as Sway began singing the words to “Amanda.”

  Except when they got to the chorus, they changed the name to Miranda.

  Carl glanced around and took note of everyone’s rapt attention. Gerard had his arm around Stella. The grandparents were smiling, the kids were adoring.

  Shit, this band and their lives. What a trip.

  As the classic power ballad wound up to its height, everyone joined in making Miranda laugh so hard she hid her face against Carl’s shoulder.

  But he wasn’t complaining.

  Sway handed the guitar back to Harrison and whipped out a bongo drum he’d stashed under the tree.

  “One more before we get asked to leave.”

  He pounded out a beat and Mike joined with the piano.

  Again, they took a classic song and changed the words to fit her name.

  It was both adorable and hilarious.

  This time it was Toto’s “Rosanna.”

  Except for Miranda.

  This time, people got up to dance.

  Luke picked up one of the little girls and waltzed her around the room. Carl decided he had pretty good idea, so he stood and took Miranda’s hand, hauling her up with him.

  He spun her out and back, then held her secure in his embrace as he danced them in as good a two step as he knew how.

  Though her laughter made it harder to keep time.

  The music continued for a while longer, but Carl and Miranda didn’t participate anymore. They just sat close and held hands, watching the family sing and dance and play.

  And when it was time to leave, Carl helped her into her new coat and left with her.

  He walked her to her car and she leaned it to start it but stood outside with him in the cold for a moment.

  “Will you be back tomorrow for the big family dinner?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  His single word response brought out the dimple and he cupped the side of her face, touching the dimple with his thumb.

  He bent lower, watching her expression for any sign that she was uncomfortable. Her eyes fluttered closed and she lifted her chin towards him. He brushed his lips over hers and a shudder went through him at the unexpected warmth.

  Her lips pressed into his and her hands slid inside the opening of his coat and around his back.

  Her mouth opened and he took the invitation, gently invading the heat with his tongue.

  She gasped as the mixture of cold air and their warm breath swirled between them.

  Pieces of his heart that had been broken long ago began to find their way back to where they belonged.

  They kissed slowly, carefully, deeply before Carl pulled back.

  “Merry Christmas, Miranda,” he said, voice rough.

  He knew he needed to say goodnight now or he wouldn’t be able to walk away. And there would always be tomorrow. Desperation wasn’t needed here.

  They’d been building something together that didn’t need to be rushed.

  But damn if he didn’t want to pursue that kiss to see where it might lead.

  “Goodnight, Carl.” She smiled shyly and bit her bottom lip. Then she kissed him once more on the cheek and got into her car.

  He watched her drive away, filled with a kind of hope he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  Chapter 7

  I Want You Anyway

  CARL

  Carl set the coffee tumbler down on the nightstand and flopped back onto the bed.

  Returning to the hotel after an entire day of celebrating was both a welcome relief and a tiny bit sad.

  He did miss the feeling of having a home to go to. But he didn’t want to buy a house again. Or pay rent for a place he only lived in three months out of the year.

  His mind returned to the kiss he’d shared with Miranda and he took a slow breath. Yeah he needed to put that out of his mind if he wanted to get any kind of sleep tonight.

  A text chimed on his phone and he almost ignored it.

  But the hope it might be who he was hoping it would be, caused him to open it.

  Miranda: what room are you in?”

  Carl: 1811

  He was about to ask her why when there was a knock at the door.

  He sat up, a rush going through his body.

  Was it her?

  He tossed the phone on the nightstand and went to the door. Checking through the peephole, he recognized her dark hair and new pink coat.

  What was she doing here?

  He opened the door, knowing his frown was deeper than usual.

  “Ar-are you alone?” she asked timidly.

  He opened the door wide to let her in.

  She looked around the simple hotel room and then returned her dark, round eyes to him.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and stood between her and the door.

  “What’s going on, Miranda?” he asked in his serio
us manager tone.

  Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of the pink than the cold outside provided for and she looked away.

  “I don’t know. I thought I needed to see you, but now that I’m here I think I may have overstepped,” she babbled nervously.

  “You drove all the way out here? From Thompson Square? And now you’re just gonna go?” He studied her fidgety expression and his eyes caught on her shoes.

  Silver, strappy six-inch heels.

  Not what she’d been wearing earlier.

  Also, he was looking at shapely bare calves and not the jeans she’d had on.

  “Take off the coat, Miranda,” he said, voice raspy.

  Her eyes shot to his and he knew he’d caught her. Upon closer inspection, she’d redone her makeup to that of a sultry vixen.

  “Why are you all dolled up, Miranda?” he asked, taking a step toward her.

  She licked her lips. “Um.”

  “Why are you here?” he asked, not sure which question he wanted her to answer first. They seemed equally important.

  “I’m here to see you,” she said, finding her voice.

  “Why do you wanna see me?” he asked, voice getting lower as he got closer.

  She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I had, have, one more gift for you.”

  His gaze raked over her, imaging what kind of treasures she was hiding inside. “Is it you?” He took another step, bringing the space between them to inches.

  “If you want me,” she whispered in return.

  She was all he ever wanted. From the moment he’d met her until the last breath he took on this earth, she was all he could ever want or need.

  She let her coat fall open revealing what he’d suspected, but beyond what he could have imagined.

  Miranda, in a black lacy negligee that hugged her curves in ways that made his body catch fire.

  Carl pushed the coat off her shoulders and it dropped to the floor. Then he gripped her waist, causing her to gasp and he reveled in the sound.

  He ran his nose along her jaw line to her ear. “You do not leave me in the morning,” he demanded darkly. “I want to wake up to your body in my bed.” He yanked her hips against his to make his point.

  “Yes,” she agreed breathlessly using needy hands on his chest and shoulders.

  “Promise me, Miranda,” he said, catching her eyes.

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  His mouth crashed into hers and they tumbled onto the bed together.

  Chapter 8

  Christmas Lights

  MIRANDA

  The gray light of sunrise slowly filled the hotel room, bathing them in the newness of Christmas Day.

  Miranda snuggled closer to the warm length of Carl’s body and he tightened his arm around her middle.

  Neither one of them had slept.

  Not really.

  They’d done the lovemaking part. Which had been epic. And if Iris asked later, Miranda was going to call it Wonder Sex. Because it was true.

  And then they’d talked and touched and kissed—taking turns dozing, neither one really wanting the night to end.

  Carl whispered things to her she never knew she needed to hear. And she ran her fingers through his hair when he’d drift off to sleep on her stomach.

  And now it was morning and they’d have to leave the room.

  “I have to go home to get clothes,” she murmured.

  Carl had their hands threaded together and he was studying them in the light.

  “You don’t want to go to dinner in that shit-hot nighty?”

  She snorted a giggle and his deep chuckle rocked her body.

  “All right,” he said, placing soft kisses along her shoulder and neck. “I suppose I should let you do that.”

  She closed her eyes and hummed in response to his gentle caress.

  “How about if we just make an appearance at dinner and then come back here?” she suggested.

  He stopped his kisses and she opened her eyes to find him propped on an elbow, looking down at her.

  “Unless you don’t…” She fumbled with her words. “Unless I misread something.”

  “Last night wasn’t just last night?” he asked, his face unreadable.

  “Not for me,” she replied softly.

  Carl’s mouth came down on hers in a scorching kiss that branded her heart and soul.

  This time… this time she would do it right.

  ***

  It was after they’d showered and he’d followed her home. After she’d changed into more appropriate attire and shown him around her small living space.

  After they’d decided to make a statement and go to her parent’s house in the same car. Hers.

  And it was after they’d turned up the driveway and it was when they had parked but the car wasn’t off yet.

  That’s when everything got interesting.

  Or at least, interesting-er.

  “I’m so glad you sent me that email,” Carl said, taking her hand and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

  “What email?” she asked.

  “The one you sent right after we saw each other in Kansas City and you asked me…to…come…to…Christmas…?” His question began to space itself out when he saw the confused look on her face.

  “I didn’t send you an email.”

  “Yes, you did,” he replied, adamant. “You said you wanted to reconcile.”

  Not only was he adamant, he also sounded a little worried.

  And reconcile? That was the second time he’d used that word this week in regard to them.

  She had thought it had been his idea though.

  It certainly hadn’t been hers.

  Not that she was complaining.

  Their connection had reignited a fire in both of them that had never truly gone out.

  But she couldn’t take credit for something she hadn’t done.

  As all those thoughts were processing, she shut off the car.

  The absence the running motor seemed to amplify the confusion inside the vehicle as they were both left staring at one another.

  Carl yanked out his phone and scrolled through it for a second before handing it to her.

  She read the message, her stomach rolling with unease.

  Had she sent him an email?

  It read like her.

  But that wasn’t her email address. Was it?

  No.

  Of course not. She was being silly.

  “I really didn’t write that,” she said after a minute.

  Carl pressed his lips together and nodded.

  “So you’re saying you didn’t want me here this week?”

  “Wait.” She held up a hand. “Don’t go that far. I’m just trying to honest with you. Truthfully?” She shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Of course I wanted you here. I always want you here. But I was too terrified to ask you.”

  “Why?” He frowned, his grumpy face only filling her heart with fondness.

  “Because, Carl,” she explained softly. “I was afraid you’d say no.”

  He stared at her, expression bank, and didn’t speak for what felt like three days.

  Finally, Miranda forced a smile. “Let’s go inside, okay? We can talk about this later.”

  He nodded in agreement and she breathed a little sigh of relief.

  It wasn’t going to be the most anticipated conversation of the year, but it needed to happen.

  They entered the house together and Carl helped her remove her coat as they were greeted with loudness, hugs, and gentle ribbing.

  During dinner, Miranda was seated beside Carl at the long table. Across from them was Harrison and Stella.

  The other band members were sort of peppered indiscriminately in the seating arrangements.

  She caught Harrison trying to hide a sly smile as he heaped on more mashed potatoes and suddenly it clicked.

  “Harrison?” she asked causally, pressing her hand on Carl’s thigh under the table to get his attention.


  “Yup?” came Harrison’s unwitting response.

  “Did you send Carl an email pretending to be me?” Again, keeping her tone suuuper casual.

  Harrison choked on his mouthful of potatoes and some of them sprayed out, coating his water glass with little chunks.

  “Harrison!” Their mom scolded, handing him her napkin.

  He coughed and took the napkin, eyes round and darting all over the place.

  Miranda chuckled.

  Gotcha.

  She narrowed her eyes on her baby brother and leaned forward just slightly.

  “Who was it? Sway? Blake? Which one of you had the bright idea to try identity theft?”

  Harrison’s face was red by that point and he just stared at her, slack jawed.

  After a minute he regained some of his composure and glared at her. “Well it worked, didn’t it?”

  Brat.

  That wasn’t the point.

  But that was okay, she’d be making her point later.

  When he least expected it.

  ***

  CARL

  Between dinner and dessert, Carl made his move.

  Grabbing Sway and Blake each by an arm, he hauled them outside and into the garage.

  Neither one of them protested, leading Carl to believe Harrison had warned them

  “Was it a group effort or was there a ringleader?” Carl asked, hands on hips.

  Blake and Sway stuck their hands in their pockets and refused to meet his gaze.

  “I suppose you guys think you’ve been clever in all this. But it’s not okay. What of things had gone differently? Did you even consider that? What if you’d made it worse?”

  “Did we make it worse?” Blake asked in all seriousness.

  Carl had been wrestling with that thought off and on all day.

  On one hand, a very small, petty part if him wanted to use this new information as an excuse to drop Miranda before she dropped him.

  But the bulk of his thoughts and all of his soul wouldn’t let him be that stupid.

  “No,” Carl answered with a reluctant sigh.

  “Then why are you mad, bro?” Sway questioned.