After the Christmas Party(161)

“Sometimes it’s better to say nothing at all.”

“Than to say something bad?” On the day after they’d first made love. Christmas morning. The entire day should have been filled with smiles and happiness. She’d clammed up and shut him out rather than embrace the goodness of what they could have shared on what was probably the only Christmas they’d spend together.

“You think I would say something bad?”

Why was it he stuck his foot in his mouth so easily where she was concerned? He loved her. He didn’t want to pick a fight with her. Not really. Or maybe he did because he felt so frustrated by the whole situation. At this point he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

“No, I don’t think you would say anything bad. What I think is that you’d sit quietly and answer a thousand questions as politely and concisely as you possibly could then go right back to being quiet, as if you’d taken a vow of silence rather than make any effort to make conversation.”

Her face flushed pink. “I made an effort to talk to your family.”

Keeping his eyes on the road and one hand on the steering-wheel, he raked his other hand through his hair. “I wanted you to like my family. To not have to make an effort to talk to them, but for it to flow naturally. I wanted them to like you.”

“I did like them.”

He heard her swallow and figured he’d said too much. That he should have held in what he wanted, because what he wanted didn’t seem to matter.

“Did they not like me?”

A damn of emotion broke loose within him and he failed to hold his irritation in.

“They knew something wasn’t right between us. I finally brought a woman home and they all kept asking me if we were arguing. I was embarrassed.” He knew he should stop, that he should just zip his lips and not say a word more, but his insides felt raw from walking on eggshells for most of the day. “And I guess we are, because from the moment I woke you up this morning you’ve been determined to fight with me. Thank God you only ruined my day and not my family’s.”

“I ruined your day?” Her hands were folded neatly in her lap and she stared straight ahead through the windshield, not even bothering to look his way.

This was the woman he’d made love to, the woman he had wanted to give a special Christmas to. Instead, everything had gone horribly wrong.

“I can honestly say this wasn’t how I envisioned us spending Christmas Day together.”

“I imagine not.” Now she glanced toward him, her eyes full of emotion that he wished was focused on the positive instead of whatever had occupied her mind all day.

“Which means what? That you’ve deliberately needled me because you didn’t want to go with me to my mother’s? That you’ve deliberately undermined our day together?”

Because he’d had that impression all day, but why she’d do that made absolutely no sense to him. No sense whatsoever.

“From the moment of the hospital Christmas party you’ve refused to listen when I tell you something about myself and you claim it means something else, something that’s what you want to hear. Then, when, like today, I’m not what you envisioned, you don’t understand why I’m not. Well, hello, Riley, but I am a woman with real needs and real wants and real desires. If I say I like something or don’t like something, guess what? That means I like something or don’t like something. And you want to know something else?”

“You’re obviously going to tell me whether I want to know or not.” He pulled his car into his driveway and parked beneath the covered awning.

“I don’t like you after all.” Trinity jumped out and headed to her car.

He felt a first-class jerk. How had the day gone so wrong? Why was he going after her when it would be better to just let her leave? They had no future. Yet he couldn’t let her go.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, putting his hand over the car door to prevent her from being able to open it.

“Anywhere you aren’t,” she spat at him.

“Trinity, why are you doing this?”

Her? Trinity fumed. He was trying to blame this on her? Him and his goody-two-shoes, perfect, rich, Christmas-loving family could just get over themselves. Okay, so she’d liked his family, had enjoyed playing cards with his sisters, mother and aunt, had found herself thinking that this was how families should be. How Christmas should be.

She’d longed to be a real part of his family, had been saddened that she would always be on the outside of such family moments, of real Christmas joy.

But that didn’t give Riley reason to blame her for the day going wrong. She’d told him she hadn’t wanted to go and he’d finagled her into doing so and then blamed her when things hadn’t gone as he’d hoped. Why was that her fault?