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Authors: Rochelle Alers

Home for the Holidays (7 page)

BOOK: Home for the Holidays
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Iris snuggled closer to Collier. “I don't mind, and thank you, sweetie.”

“Am I really your sweetie?” he teased.

“Only if you want to be.”

  

Collier knew Iris had put him on the spot as to their budding relationship. They were lovers poised to become friends. “I do.” He wanted to be her sweetie, lover, friend, and more. But he didn't want to acknowledge what the more was. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

Iris covered a yawn with her hand. “I will be after I take another shower.”

Collier cupped the back of her head, his fingers massaging her scalp. “That makes two of us. We'll shower together.”

She looked up at him through her lashes. “What's on the menu?”

“Grits, scrambled eggs, and sausage gravy.”

“Yum! Where did you learn to cook?”

“My parents taught me. Mom made Vietnamese dishes, and Dad cooked good old Southern food.”

“How did your parents meet?” Iris asked.

Collier was about to reveal things to Iris about his parents he'd never told a woman. “My father met my mother when serving as a Green Beret during the Vietnam War. Born Nga Minh Nguyen, Mom changed her name to Nicole after becoming an American citizen. She had been the illegitimate daughter of a Vietnamese mother and a French businessman. As a teenager, she was recruited to spy on the Americans for the Vietcong, and when captured by a team of Green Berets, she became a double agent after the Americans promised to take her to the United States once the war ended.

“A few days before the fall of Saigon the North Vietnamese discovered she'd collaborated with the enemy and she was scheduled to be executed along with a number of other defectors. Dad disobeyed orders, risking being court-martialed, and went to look for her. He found her in a Vietcong prison camp. She was one of the last South Vietnamese refugees to be airlifted to safety ahead of the advancing army. It took almost a year before they reunited and eventually married. Mom taught Tracy and me to speak French and her native dialect. After that, learning a new language came very easily for me.”

“What other languages do you speak?”

“Arabic, Pashto, and Farsi. Pashto is spoken in Afghanistan and Farsi in Iran.”

Iris rested her head on his shoulder. “Have you ever thought about becoming a foreign language teacher or an interpreter for a government agency?”

“No, babe. I've had enough of bureaucrats. If I'm going to work for the next twenty years, then it's going to be for myself.”

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. In telling Iris about his parents, Collier had stripped off a layer of his protective shield he'd hidden from those with whom he didn't share blood ties. He and Tracy never told any of their friends their mother had been a spy in fear of reprisals from both Americans and Vietnamese. Nga Minh had languished in a federal prison for a year before her activities were verified, proving that her spying for the Americans had saved thousands of lives.

He extended his hand to Iris. “Are you coming, babe?”

She crawled off the bed and together they made their way into the bathroom. Under the spray of the shower, they splashed each other like children, Iris screaming at the top of her lungs when Collier suckled one breast, then the other. The water play ended when Iris grasped his penis, masturbating him until he grew hard again. Standing with their backs to each other, they washed away the remnants of their lovemaking and got dressed. Forty-five minutes later they sat in the dining room to eat a traditional Lowcountry breakfast.

  

It was early afternoon when Collier parked his car on the street in front of the house on Coosaw Court. Tracy's car was missing, and in its place was a Mercedes-Benz with Florida plates. Evan had probably come by, and he and Tracy had taken their daughters with them.

Spending the morning with Iris was akin to entering an alternative universe where everything was perfection. Having sex with her, preparing breakfast and sharing it with her, and their lounging in the family room watching movies had become the antidote to the horrors of war he'd witnessed that continued to lurk along the fringes of his mind whenever he relaxed enough to fall asleep. Collier had come to look for her spontaneity and openness to talk about anything. She was real, and in turn he kept it real.

Standing in front of the house, crossing his arms over his chest, Collier stared up at the house with so many good and a few not-so-good memories. His gaze shifted to the other houses in the cul-de-sac, many decorated with wreaths and lights. He exhaled a breath. It was time to get the box of decorations out of the storeroom and put them up.

After finding the supplies he needed, Collier stood on the ladder, stringing solar lights along the top edge of the porch. The sound of tires on the graveled driveway caught his attention above the shrieks and screaming of a group of young boys playing football in the street.

Descending the ladder, he waited for the driver of the Jeep to alight and mount the porch steps before walking over to greet him. He extended his hand, smiling. “I thought I'd snuck back undetected, but it's apparent I couldn't avoid the sharp eye of the law.”

Cavanaugh Island Sheriff Jeffrey Hamilton took the proffered hand and then pulled Collier close in a rough embrace. “I didn't know you had until I saw the sign the guys at the American Legion put up across Main Street,” he admitted. “Welcome home, Scrappy.”

Collier nodded. “Thanks, Jeff. What's going on with you?”

“I just got off duty, and I promised your sister I would stop by every once in a while to check on Layla and Iris.”

He stared at the retired U.S. Marine captain who'd returned to Sanctuary Cove to take care of his grandmother and had subsequently taken over as sheriff of the entire island. Collier had always looked up to Jeff, four years his senior, whose high school record of sacking opposing teams' quarterbacks still stood after more than twenty years. Tall, muscular with deep-set dark eyes in an equally dark face, the lawman had been a much sought-after bachelor until he married Kara Newell, heir to the Angels Landing Plantation. The largest parcel of privately owned property on the island had given the town its name, and the historic landmark house and land was currently undergoing a complete restoration.

“Thanks, man. My sister is blessed to have so many folks looking out for her.”

Jeff crossed his arms over a black waffle-weave sweater. “Even though Iris is a relative newcomer she's fit in quite well here.”

“Layla really likes her.”

Jeff grunted softly. “Layla isn't her only admirer. Since she started working at the Muffin Corner, their business has doubled. And most of the customers are men who would do anything to get her attention.”

Collier didn't physically react to this disclosure. “Is she biting?” he asked.

A grin spread over the sheriff's face. “Much to their disappointment she acts as if they don't exist.”

Collier had to work to conceal his satisfaction. “Hmm, I wonder why?” he lied smoothly.

“Are you on leave or back for good?”

Collier's head popped up, meeting the sheriff's intense gaze. “I'm on leave until Christmas.”

“How many more years do you have before you put in your papers?”

He exhaled an audible breath. “Two.”

“No more combat?”

“I'm done fighting,” Collier said wistfully. He couldn't handle any more roadside bombs, sniper fire, or suicide bombers, though he was still fighting his own personal war with the recurring nightmares.

“Good for you,” Jeff countered before pushing his baseball cap off his forehead. “How old are you now? Thirty-five or thirty-six?”

“Thirty-six. Why?”

Leaning against a column of the porch, the sheriff stared at the late blooming yellow roses climbing the trellis on the opposite end of the porch. “You'll be thirty-eight when you get out and still young enough to start a family of your own and have a second career.”

Collier nodded. “Are you and your family planning anything special for Christmas?”

“Kara's folks are coming in from Little Rock Christmas Eve, and they plan to stay until just after New Year's. What about you?”

“I overheard Tracy and Iris talking about doing something together either here or at Iris's place.”

“Either way, you guys are welcome to come by and hang out a while.”

“I'll definitely think about it. It's been a while since I've seen Miss Corrine.” Jeff's grandmother had been his second-, third-, and fifth-grade teacher before she became principal of the Cove's elementary and middle school.

Jeff adjusted his cap, pulling it lower. “Enough talk. I'm going on home now.” Reaching over, he patted Collier's shoulder. “See you around, Sergeant.”

“Copy that, Captain.”

Collier waited until Jeff drove away and then sank down to the top step, hands sandwiched between denim-covered knees. First Tracy and now Jeff. It was as if everyone wanted to see him married with children. What was so wrong with being single? Resting his head against the post holding up the porch, he closed his eyes. Spending time with his sister and niece, not to mention Iris, had him wanting to stick around and perhaps start a family of his own once his tour of duty ended. He planned to make Sanctuary Cove home and he was serious about buying out the owner of the auto body shop, but there was still his uncertainty about Iris.

He liked her, but they weren't ready for marriage. And even if he were to fall in love with her, there was the possibility she would never agree to marriage after everything she'd been through.

Collier ran a hand over his face. Life had just thrown him a vicious curve. He'd met a woman with whom he could bare his soul and possibly share a future, and she wanted no part of it. And each passing day brought him closer to the time when he would have to leave her and return to his base.

Collier opened his eyes and stood up. Brooding about his budding relationship wasn't going to help anything. Instead, he focused on finishing the Christmas decorations before Tracy and Layla returned home.

  

Iris answered her cell phone when she recognized Tracy's ringtone. “Hey, stranger.” It'd been weeks since Thanksgiving when she'd last seen her friend, while Christmas was only two weeks away.

“Yeah, right. I know you've been busy, but you could've sent your BFF a text telling me you're okay instead of me having to hear it from my brother.”

“I'm okay, Mama.”

Tracy's laugh came through the earpiece. “I miss seeing you when I come home after classes. I love my brother to death, but I can't talk to him about certain things.”

“Like what?”

“Like Evan inviting me and Layla to come to Florida over the Christmas break. I've promised Layla I would take her to Disney World if she kept her grades up, but Gainesville isn't Orlando.”

“Do you like Evan enough to spend a week with him?” Iris asked her friend.

“Of course I do.”

“Then trust him not to put you in a compromising position. I can assure you he has enough space in his house where you and Layla can sleep in one wing and he and Allie in the other. And then there's Evan's eagle-eyed, overprotective live-in housekeeper who'll make certain your virtue will remain intact.”

“Now you sound like a character from a Regency novel. What you don't understand is that I'm tired of being virtuous, Iris. I'm ready for my Mr. Right Now, but I don't want to use your brother like that.”

Iris closed her eyes and counted to five. “Are you calling me to get my approval to sleep with my brother because if you are, then you have it, Tracy. Evan's a grown man and you're a grown-ass woman who doesn't need anyone's permission or approval to sleep with whomever she wants. Now, I'm going to end this call because I don't want to be late for my date with
your
brother, who I just might sleep with tonight. Good night, my friend.”

She took a quick glance at her watch, remembering she'd told Collier she would meet him downstairs in front of the sweetgrass shop at six thirty. It was to become their first official date because of her hectic work schedule.

They were going to see
The Best Men Holiday
, a comedy-drama plot spanning the Christmas holidays, which coincided with the current holiday season. It didn't matter to Iris that the Cove's single-screen theater showed movies three to six months behind the first-run feature films on the mainland. She preferred viewing movies in the small theater. Putting on a jacket, she left the apartment.

With Thanksgiving behind her and Christmas quickly approaching, time was a luxury she could ill afford to squander. The shop was so busy Mabel asked if she would work weekends and come in on Mondays when the shop was closed to keep up with the mail orders. Iris couldn't refuse her now that Lester had reduced his work hours to half days. This left Iris with just Sunday in which to go to church, clean her apartment, do laundry, and unwind. Usually she attended the eleven o'clock church service with Tracy and Layla, but she opted for the eight o'clock service to get a jump on all she had to accomplish in one day. After a lot of thought, she'd also decided to accept Mabel's offer to go into partnership with her and Lester. She could hardly believe she was going to have her own specialty cake business in the adjoining shop.

As promised, Collier came over every night to check on her. He made no attempt to initiate having sex, preferring instead to cuddle with her either in bed or on the daybed in the family room. They talked at length about the countries and cities in which they'd lived or visited, while discovering both were partial to music from the sixties, seventies, and eighties. Collier had insisted they share one dance before leaving, and while Iris knew her feelings for Collier were intensifying, it took Herculean strength for her not to beg him to spend the night.

BOOK: Home for the Holidays
6.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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