“I get it now why Christmas isn’t your favorite time of year,” Naomi said. “But if it’s any consolation, I believe your mother wouldn’t be disappointed with you this year.”
“What?” His head jerked up. “This year I’m the biggest letdown. I’m not even showing up.”
“Yes, but look what you’ve done here. You came with me to get a Christmas tree, you’ve helped decorate it, you’ve bought gifts, and you’ve helped customers in the store buy their gifts. You’ve even gone to carol singing. I think your mother would be happy, even though she must miss you terribly.”
The tender warmth in her voice brought a sudden lump to his throat. He missed his mom, he realized. Missed his dad, his sister, and brother-in-law and nieces. He missed his parents’ cluttered house, the groaning table, the chunky holiday sweaters, the incessant carols on the radio, the cold, narrow bed in his old bedroom. He missed the freezing snow, the slow-as-molasses traffic, the winter darkness. He missed Christmas in Mecklenburg.
The red bauble tumbled from his palm and rolled on the carpet.
“Hey.” Naomi scooted closer on her bottom to his side. Her hand brushed tentatively over his. “I know how hard it is being away from your family at Christmas,” she murmured. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes were liquid blue with compassion, and her hand was light on his. The humming attraction he always felt in her presence magnified, but though he badly wanted to cup her face and kiss her, more than anything else he wanted to savor her empathy. Somehow this woman, whom he’d known for less than a week, knew more about him than any of his previous girlfriends or lovers. Knew him better than himself, even.
He clasped her chin, gently tipping her face up to him. Appeal flickered through her vivid blue eyes as her breathing quickened and her lips opened a little. She wanted him to kiss her, he saw, despite her protestations yesterday. And it seemed the perfect time to kiss her. The family room was quiet and dim, the winking tree lights bathing them in an ethereal glow. The air was warm with the scent of pine and cookies.
But though the need to taste her lips hurt him, he held back on his craving. He didn’t want a mere kiss from Naomi. He wanted more—much more. As the thought struck him, alarm burst over him like a sharp snowstorm. He sucked in a breath, instinctively bracing himself. More from Naomi? How could he want more from her? And what exactly did “more” mean?
He dropped his hand away from her. Confusion clotted his brain.
“What’s wrong?” Naomi asked, bewilderment vibrating in her tone.
He was scowling, he realized, and try as he might, he couldn’t stop scowling. “Nothing.” He shook his head, but the inner turmoil continued to shred his mind.
Nothing. That’s precisely what he’d expected after each of his sexual encounters over the years, and that was exactly what he’d gotten. Nothing expected, and nothing received. But now he saw that nothing wouldn’t cut it anymore. Brief, anonymous sex had suited him for a while, but that phase of his life was over, for good. He wanted something. Something more, something substantial.
Naomi rose to her feet, dusting her hands, a small frown wrinkling her brow. “Fine. Whatever.”
Aaron got to his feet quickly. She thought he’d rebuffed her. She thought he didn’t want to kiss her. Damn, she was so mistaken about that, but he was still coming to terms with his sudden epiphany. And besides, he couldn’t forget she was still vulnerable after her breakup. This wasn’t the time for blurting out things.
“I’m glad I’m spending Christmas with you,” he said.
“Are you?” Suspicion pinched her features.
“Yes.” He rifled his fingers through his hair. “If I had to be stranded at Christmas anywhere in the world, I’d choose to be here.”
Her expression cleared. “I hope you’ll still think that when my entire family invades this house tomorrow.”
He managed to smile at her. “Bring it on, honey. I can’t wait.”
Chapter Six
A thick summer haze hung in the air. The wooden boards of the outdoor deck warmed the soles of Aaron’s bare feet as he pushed his seat back from the table, which was littered with the remains of Christmas lunch. Luke’s four elder sisters, their husbands, and children had arrived en masse at eleven o’clock like a tornado, instantly engulfing the house in noise and activity. Aaron had quickly given up trying to memorize everyone’s names and simply stood back in awe. But he wasn’t allowed to remain on the fringes. The family swept him up in their whirlwind and plunged him into their Christmas madness.
At least he hadn’t had to eat roast turkey with stuffing on such a hot day. Instead, he’d been plied with honey-glazed ham, spicy shrimp, baked salmon, and barbecued pork loin. Christmas lunch had been long and noisy, filled with chatter and laughter and good-natured ribbing. Now, the kids and teenagers were on the lawn playing that weird game called cricket, while Luke’s sisters and their husbands were cleaning up in the kitchen. Aaron had attempted to pitch in with the dirty dishes, but had been quickly shooed away.
As Aaron leaned back in his chair, Luke walked up with a fresh jug of iced water. “Thought you could do with a refill.” He topped up their glasses before sitting next to him.
“Thanks.” Aaron swallowed a deep gulp of blessedly cold water.
“You holding up okay?”
“Sure.” Aaron wiped condensation from his glass and licked his fingers. “Your sisters aren’t half as formidable as you make out.”
Luke rested an elbow on one crossed knee. “I didn’t mean my sisters. I mean this whole Christmas-in-a-foreign-country thing.”
Aaron looked up. “You seem worried. Have I been a downer the whole day?” He’d thought he’d coped well, putting on a convivial mask for the occasion. He’d eaten, drunk, talked. He’d been doing it every Christmas for years, hadn’t he? He’d fooled his family, who knew him best, so convincing a bunch of strangers should have been a piece of cake.
“Not a downer, no.” Scratching his chin, Luke eyed him speculatively in a way that made Aaron uncomfortable. He’d forgotten Luke’s writerly instinct for burrowing beneath the obvious. “But you’ve been antsy ever since your flight was canceled. I know you don’t enjoy Christmas, but I’m wondering if, now you’re not there, you actually miss spending the day with your family in your hometown.”
Of all Aaron’s friends, none were as perceptive as Luke, and only he would think nothing of asking difficult questions. It was one of the traits that Aaron had always appreciated in his friend, but now he felt like a hapless insect squirming under a microscope.
He glanced at the barefoot youngsters playing in the sun-soaked garden, then through the glass sliding doors of the house to the kitchen where Luke’s family milled about. He could see Naomi right in the midst, chatting animatedly to Helen, her mother. Naomi had been in seventh heaven all day, ever since Chloe had woken them up with the gleeful news that Santa had visited and there were presents for everyone. They’d gone to church before the rest of Luke’s family drove in from Goulburn. When Helen, Luke’s eldest sister, had arrived, Naomi had hugged her as if they hadn’t seen each other for months. Face glowing, Naomi had taken it upon herself to introduce him to every member of her family. She’d hovered near him throughout the meal, offering him food and drink, including him in her conversations. She’d tried to make his Christmas as pleasant as possible, and in the process reminded him of everything he’d taken for granted.
Now, Luke had put his feelings into words, and he couldn’t lie to his friend. “Yeah, I miss Christmas in Mecklenburg.” Aaron rubbed his damp forehead. “Every year I grin and bear it and rush off as soon as I can, but now I miss every darn, stupid moment. Ironic justice, I guess.”
He picked up the remains of a Christmas cracker. Before the meal everyone had crossed arms and held a Christmas cracker with each neighbor. Then they had pulled on the crackers, and the decorated cardboard tubes had popped with a light explosion, revealing paper hats, plastic trinkets, and small rolls of paper printed with jokes. “My mother would love these, and she’d be amazed to see me wearing this.” He pointed at the green paper hat on his head. Without exception, everyone at the table had donned their hats, so Aaron had followed suit. “I feel like I’ve been a colossal fool for so long,” he said. “Like I’ve wasted so many years trying to avoid Christmas.”
Luke shook his head. “Don’t feel like that. You probably had valid reasons for not liking Christmas, but now you’ve changed. Happens to all of us, mate. Look at me. When you first met me at Columbia, you’d never have thought I’d end up here, would you?” He spread his arms wide to encompass his present life “Yet I couldn’t be happier. This is what I want, what I need.”
Aaron kneaded the tight spot in his chest. And what did he want and need? He wasn’t quite sure, but he knew what he didn’t want. He didn’t want to return home and pick up his old life as if nothing had happened. And that included his workaholic lifestyle.