A Blazing Little Christmas(81)
Cory lifted his head and stared, the pulse throbbing in his throat. His dark eyes were rabbit-still, and she could see the panic radiating from within him. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, merely waited for the instant to pass. She would wait as long as necessary because no man had ever made her want so badly.
The wind danced through the branches of the tree above them, snow falling to the ground.
I know what you want for Christmas, and there you’ll find it under the tree. The words from the letter came back to her, and she felt the magic. The air shivered with it, whispering in her mind, stunning her with it. This was her Christmas present. He was her Christmas present. A bubble of laughter welled up inside her. She’d been so wrong to doubt for one second the magic of Christmas.
She smiled up at him, still waiting.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to do that,” he said, the light completely dimmed from his eyes. She felt the laughter inside her dim, as well. Now wasn’t the time for sorry. Now was the time for the “I’ve been waiting forever for you” speech. Now was the time when the cupids and cherubim plucked at their harps and lyres, and carolers burst into glorious song.
She waited for the moment, but the moment passed.
Instead Rebecca bit the inside of her mouth, hard.
Chapter 7
Sunday, December 22
Being surrounded by all this “happiness” and “joy” was starting to make Cory jumpy, as if he was inside some undercover operation, pretending to be something he wasn’t. Rebecca made him want to pretend.
When the sun rose on Sunday morning, he didn’t even think about running away. Didn’t even act like he wanted to. She just rolled over next to him, throwing an arm over his side, keeping him close. Cory went back to sleep. Dreamless sleep. He didn’t need dreams, he was sleepwalking through one. Happily.
He knew she saw things in him—some real, some imagined—and somewhere he’d stopped worrying about it.
Rebecca would be leaving soon.
They had until Tuesday morning, Christmas Eve, and then she would leave for her parents’ place and he’d be on his way to Canada. Until then, he would stay. Have a good time. It was sex, nothing more, then he’d dash out the door without saying goodbye—the patented Cory Bell method of retreat. Goodbye wasn’t a word in his vocabulary.
He woke again and watched her sleep. He kept repeating the plan in his head, but it felt off, like driving in a nail and missing the stud. As he stroked the softness of her hair, he knew that for now he wasn’t going to worry. Now he was going to pretend that his past had never existed, that the scars in his palm had never existed, that the black hole inside him didn’t exist, either. At the moment, the only thing that existed was her.
She woke a few minutes later, and they took a shower together, before Cory brought up breakfast from the dining room. She’d just finished eating when her cell phone rang. Cory glanced at the display, didn’t want to seem overly curious, but didn’t want to see some guy’s name, all the same.
It was Natalie. Rebecca ignored it.
“Why aren’t you picking up?”
She flipped off the phone. “Sometimes it’s better not to know.”
Yeah, ignorance worked a lot for him, too. He understood that. He wasn’t sure what the plans were for today, but the way she was rubbing her feet, it seemed like ice-skating was out. He suggested a sleigh ride later in the afternoon, and judging by the way her eyes lit up, that was definitely on the agenda.
Gee. In his rational mind, he was all sarcastic and smarmy. In his not-nearly-so-rational heart, he knew he wouldn’t deny her anything.
“How do you know Natalie?” he asked, curiosity finally overcoming caution.
She pulled three sweaters out of her suitcase and held each one up to the mirror.
“We worked together.”
“She’s a teacher, too?”
Rebecca decided on the blue one, and then lined up four sets of boots. Yes, the woman loved her shoes.
“Tell me about your kids,” he said, after pointing to the pair with low heels. Thankfully she didn’t argue.
He kicked back on the bed and watched her morning routine. After the shower, there was the skin treatment, then the makeup, then the hair. Rebecca was not speedy in the morning. He thought it was cute. While she towel-dried her hair, she started to talk, laughing sometimes, the sound making him smile. He’d gotten to where he’d ask her ordinary questions about her life, just to hear that laugh.
“Well, mainly they’re spoiled, with demanding parents, and more money than any one family should have. They have toys that cost more than some apartments. And when they do something wrong…” She laughed. “Never tell a parent their child is not perfect.”