They never did put any champagne in Adam’s car. Robert and Allie were on the other side of the great room when Adam had suggested they leave. The kids would be up early, and he said he was worried about Carrie being tired. He waved to Robert across the room. The man who had let them in at the start of the party also let them out. He handed them a gift basket. Adam took it and let it swing by his side as he helped Carrie onto the steps. The icy air was frigid against Carrie’s skin that had been warmed considerably by the champagne and the fire inside. Being with Adam like this had been like a dream, and she didn’t want to leave. Who cared if it was all in her head. She just wanted to have a little longer with Adam all to herself. It was selfish, but she didn’t care. Before she could think anything else, Adam set the basket down onto the runner leading to the half circle of a drive and looked at her.
They were the only ones outside, the sound of the band still going in the house, the white lights twinkling in the trees. Without warning, he put his hands on her waist, pulled her to him, and, before she could process what was happening, he kissed her. At first, it was as light as a feather, and then, all her thoughts were washed away as his mouth moved on hers. The taste of champagne on his lips, the feel of his unstill hands at her back, the way his hair moved through her fingers after she ran them up his neck, it felt like every kiss she’d had before that one had been completely wrong, as if she were made to fit together with him and him only. She didn’t notice the cold outside or the darkness. She only felt Adam’s presence, and the complete perfection of the moment.
He pulled back and looked at her, his face so calm and still that it almost made him look like a different person. She took in that picture of him, adding it to the front of her list of memories, because that was what he really looked like. With nothing bothering him. He smiled at her and she felt weak all over. “We should probably get home,” he said. Even though she totally disagreed, she nodded, the night coming to an end.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Don’t dwell in the past. Every day is a new day.
Carrie hadn’t seen much of Adam all morning, and she wondered what he could be doing. She was a little anxious, not knowing how to act around him, and the longer he took, the more she worried. What if he was avoiding her? Had he awakened this morning regretting their kiss? She’d thought about it all night into the wee hours of the morning, and her eyes burned from lack of sleep. The car ride home had been quiet, the static sound of the wet snow against the tires, the radio on low to fill the silence. She’d watched the black of night slip by the car window. She was afraid to look at Adam. Would she see disappointment? Would she see regret? She wasn’t used to being in his world—she wasn’t like Andy—and while she’d acted naturally, she still worried that she’d done something wrong.
All that aside, this was, after all, one of his days off, and with Christmas Eve tonight, she wanted everything to be perfect for the children. Where could he be? she wondered again. She didn’t want him to be busy with anything except his family. So when he didn’t show for the big breakfast that Joyce had cooked, it troubled Carrie. Her stomach was in knots the more she waited, and when he came downstairs fully dressed—shoes, ironed clothes, and all—her stomach felt like it was full of cement. This time, however, instead of being sad and resisting the urge to plead with him, she was going to be downright angry if he went in to work. He knew better. They’d had enough talk about it. Going in to work on Christmas Eve would show blatant disregard for his family, she felt. Carrie consciously relaxed her shoulders, realizing they’d inched up near her ears somewhere.
“Good morning,” he said to her first. She was rinsing her plate at the sink, so she only turned her head to look at him, her hands still under the stream of water. She searched his face for any sign of how he felt seeing her, but he just looked like he normally did when he was greeting the whole family. She smiled nervously.
“Did I miss breakfast?”
She nodded.
“Have you eaten?”
She nodded again, too worried to speak. She was annoyed with herself because she’d promised herself at the Ashford Estate that she’d say something if he put work first but with the kiss looming in her consciousness, and without the champagne and the proximity to him, she felt too nervous to say what she was thinking. She was worried that he was going to let her down, upset her, that he hadn’t changed, but what she feared most was that the kiss had been a mistake. She dried her hands and turned around. He was acting weird. He wasn’t stressed out, yet everything about his behavior told her he was going to work. He’d gotten up at the same time he always had—she’d heard him, thinking he was coming downstairs but then he never showed. He’d showered first. He’d spent the morning absent. He’d come downstairs at the usual time when he would leave for work. Carrie was on pins and needles waiting for an explanation.