Revving Up the Holidays (7 page)

A minute later, the three-year-old was pushing himself up
and down the driveway with ease.

* * * * *

Isaac was terrified that Giada would leave before his mother
got in her car to drive home. As soon as Barbara was out the door, he took
Giada’s arm. His sister and Mark were on the couch with both kids fast asleep
on their laps. He said a quick good night and guided Giada out the door.

Her expression was somewhere between wearied and terrified.

“Please,” he said.

She didn’t resist as he led her to the shop and turned on
the small lamp on the workbench. Most of the room was in shadows but the bike
glinted in the light.

She gasped. “You finished it.”

“Almost. It still needs a few pieces.”

“Does it run?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t started it yet.”

“Why not?” She ran her hand along the padded sissy bar and
seat just as he had done while thinking of her.

He’d imagined her on that seat a hundred times both in the
past and recently. Was she thinking about straddling the bike? His cock jumped
at the thought of her legs hugging the leather. He’d been a fool the other
night when he’d left her alone in her condo. “There’s no point if I don’t have
anyone to share the moment with.”

“You have a family who loves you, Isaac. Those kids spent
the first twenty minutes I was in the house telling me how they had helped you
put the motorcycle together. They should share the moment with you.”

He crossed the distance between them and placed his hand
over hers on the handlebar. “I want you to share it with me, Giada. I want you
to be the person I come to with news, good or bad. I want you.”

She opened her mouth as if she had something to say, but
then she closed it again.

“Get on.”

Fear crossed her face, but it turned to excitement and she
complied with his command. She moved to the very back of the seat against the
sissy bar. Isaac grabbed her hips and pushed her forward before climbing on
behind her and pressing his cock tight against her ass. Her skirt slid up to
the top of her thighs.

She gasped and grabbed the handlebars to regain her balance.

Reaching around her, he took her hand and moved it to the
key. He took her other hand and put it on the throttle. They turned the
ignition together and gave the bike gas. It rumbled to life between their legs.
With his hand over hers, he gave it more gas and reveled in the sound of the
motor roaring. His own shaft jerked and he wrapped his arm around, her
tightening their connection.

He leaned in until his mouth was on her ear. “I want you.”

She took hold of his hand where it was spread across her
abdomen. For a moment he thought she was going to get off the bike and walk out
of his life forever. But instead, she pressed his hand down until it was
between her legs and he could feel the dampness of her panties. His entire body
was on fire as he turned off the bike and slid his fingers inside the elastic
band at her thigh.

She gasped as his fingers slid between her wet folds. He
rubbed her clit, and she pressed her hips forward, riding his hand and the
bike. Her neck and back arched until her head rested on his shoulder and he had
access to her slim neck. Kissing the sensitive flesh just below her ear caused
her to cry his name. She pumped her ass back and forth wildly as he pressed his
finger deep inside her.

“Come for me.”

She exploded against his hand, gasping and panting.

He loved that his words had sent her over the edge. His cock
ached to be inside her. He reached into the saddlebag on the bike and found the
stash of condoms he’d placed there with the hope that he could eventually
convince her to go for a ride with him. “Can you turn around?”

Languidly, she complied. Moving until she was facing him,
with her thighs over his and her back against the handlebars.

“Are those your favorite panties?”

She shook her head.

He gripped the elastic and with one quick pull, tore the
thong and exposed her glistening pussy. His cock was out of his trousers in
thirty seconds and he rolled the condom over the tip before she took over the
job with her small, delicate hands. Her blouse had four tiny buttons and he
slid each one through its hole, exposing a white lacy bra that conveniently had
a front closure. With two hands, he opened the frilly underwear and cupped one
perfect globe in each hand, worrying the taut peaks.

She arched her back and lifted her hips closer to his shaft.
He wanted to take it slow but his need was too great. He leaned forward and
took a nipple into his mouth. Nipping it lightly, she encouraged him with a
deep moan. Sitting back, he lifted her with him, placed his head at her core
and impaled her on his cock. Her mouth opened and he muffled her cries with his
kisses.

She used her thighs to lift herself up and slowly lower back
onto him again. Her pussy tightly encased him in ecstasy and her tongue rivaled
his in the desperation of the kiss.

He would never last at this pace. He slowed the kiss and
gripped her hips to slow her pumping rhythm. Magnificent didn’t even begin to
describe Giada. He suckled one nipple and then the other.

Her hand pressed between their bodies and she rubbed her
clit. He couldn’t take any more. The sight and the gasps coming from her mouth
were so erotic. He grabbed her hips and lifted her off him and let her drop
again until he was buried deep within her. He did this again and again.

Moaning his name, the walls of her pussy contracted around
him. She milked his cock, pushing him over the edge. He wrapped his arms around
her and buried his groans in her soft hair until the shattering orgasm passed.

He kissed her ear, her cheek and then her lips. “You’re so
beautiful, Giada.”

She was a perfect fit in his arms. Holding her and caressing
her back, thoughts of a future with her filtered into his mind. Maybe it wasn’t
crazy to want more out of his life than a high-paying job. He brushed the thought
aside and kissed her neck.

He never wanted the moment to end, but she kissed him on the
cheek and pushed back from his embrace. “I should go. I have finals to grade
tonight.”

She extricated herself from the awkward position and stepped
off the bike. Reaching under her wrinkled skirt, she pulled the torn thong
underwear down her leg and then looked for somewhere to dispose of them.

“Here, give them to me. I’ll get rid of them.”

She handed him the ruined material. “Somewhere that your
sister won’t find them.”

He stepped off the bike, zipped his fly and took her
underwear from her. “I promise.”

“Good night.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Isaac tucked the scrap of material into his pocket and
reached for her arm. “You’re not running away, right? You just need to go home.
If I thought you were running from me again, I would chase you back to your
condo.”

Finally, she looked at him. “I’m not running.”

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed her. Her arms wrapped
around his back and her fingers toyed with the hair at his collar.

He could have kissed her all night long. He would make sure
to do that one day. He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Good night. I’m going to call you tomorrow.”

Her eyes darted around the shadowy shop floor. He feared
that she was about to make some kind of argument, but she just nodded.

Isaac had said he would call, so when he phoned the
following morning, she hadn’t been surprised. He told her he’d be over around
two in the afternoon. That had been a complete shock. Why would he come over so
early? She assumed he would come by after dinner for sex.

She worked all morning to finish grading so that she could
relax when he arrived.

Still, her heart jumped into her throat when the doorbell
rang. She was certain she was having some kind of attack. It was insane that a
grown woman with a doctorate degree could get so torqued up over a man. But
this was Isaac and she couldn’t deny that she was in love with him. She just
wished she hadn’t told him.

The last thing she would have expected was to find Isaac on
her stoop with a small pine tree and several large shopping bags.

“What are you doing?”

His grin melted her heart. “It’s Christmas Eve. I’m starting
a new tradition.”

She leaned over and peeked inside one of the bags and found
it full of decorations. “You bought all this for me?”

“May I come in?” He leaned the tree against the side of the
building, grabbed the bags and walked inside, not waiting for an answer.

She knew her mouth gaped but she couldn’t imagine why he’d
brought all the Christmas décor.

“I bought one of those stands to hold the tree up. It’s in
one of these bags.”

He rummaged through the bags. She put her hand on his
shoulder. “Why did you do this?”

Straightening, he pulled her into a hug. “You shouldn’t stop
celebrating Christmas because your parents aren’t here. I just wanted to give
you a new tradition, a new start.”

It might have been the sweetest thing anyone had ever done
for her. Tears welled up on her bottom lids and when they tumbled down her
cheek, he kissed them away.

“Are you going to help me decorate?” she asked.

His wide grin had her heart pounding. “I thought I would, if
you want. I’ve never done it before, but you can show me.”

“I’d enjoy that.” The idea of decorating her house had been
painful without her parents alive to enjoy the season. She’d planned to let the
holiday pass unnoticed for the year and hope she’d be more festive next year or
the one after that. But with Isaac there to share the tradition, her enthusiasm
rocketed.

Maybe her heart wouldn’t be broken. They could keep in touch
after he left to go back north. In the meantime, he’d be in town for another
week. Why should she deny herself the memories of spending time with the man
she loved? Maybe it would be worth the heartbreak to build some memories with
Isaac. She’d never get another opportunity to be with him. It would be foolish
to ruin their moment with worry over the future.

“What should we do first?”

She looked around her small condo. “Let’s move the couch and
put the tree in front of that window.”

He moved the furniture while she pulled everything out of
the six large shopping bags. “This is a lot of stuff.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know how much we would need.
Remember, this is my first Christmas tree.”

She found the tree stand and put it in place before Isaac
went back out the front door and retrieved the tree. A few minutes later, they
managed to get the thing to stand up straight and secure. She filled the pan
with water and breathed in the piney scent.

“We have to string the lights first.”

He pulled two boxes of twinkle lights from their packages
and they worked them around the tree starting at the top, tucking and turning
until they reached the last sappy branch at the bottom.

Piece by piece, they placed glass balls of red and gold all
over the tree. He’d bought stars and snowmen and a dozen other boxes of
decorations. It was far too many ornaments and most would remain in the box,
but the gesture was so sweet that she didn’t mention it again.

He was getting the hang of it, and if his grin was any
indication, he enjoyed the process.

She asked, “I thought you would have to work today since you
took so much time to finish your Harley.”

His hand stopped midway to the branch and he turned toward
her. “I work too much. While I was rebuilding that bike, I realized I’ve let my
life pass me by.”

She took the red star from his hand and hung it for him.
“And did you discover why you allowed that to happen?”

“I was running from that reckless kid I used to be.”

“I loved that kid,” she said.

His smile made her body hum. “Yeah, it’s ironic, I did too.
I wanted to make my father proud and I thought making a lot of money would
accomplish that. In the process, I hardly ever saw him again.”

“So what’s the solution?”

“I’m going to work just as hard but not as much. At least
I’m going to try. I’m also planning to come back and visit my family more
often.”

She wondered if that meant he would visit her too, but she
didn’t have the courage to ask the question directly. “Hanukkah and Christmas
don’t always come so close together, do they?”

He returned his attention back to the decorations. “No.
Hanukkah is on the Jewish calendar. All the months are twenty-eight days long
and no leap day every four years. Instead there’s a short month every seven.
That’s why the holidays don’t always match up.”

Pushing aside her worries over his eventual departure, she
placed a crystal snowman on the tree.

“If the weather is good tomorrow, we could go for a ride.”

As a teen, she’d prayed that he would take her for a ride on
that bike. She’d waited for him to look at her, but he never did. “That would
be fun. It sounds as if you learned quite a lot while working on that bike.”

Sitting down on the couch, he reached one hand out,
beckoning her to join him. Without hesitation, she slid down beside him, so
close that when she crossed her legs her thigh crossed his as well. They stared
up at the little tree for a silent moment. It was nearly finished and filled
the home with cheer that had been sorely lacking. He wrapped an arm around her
shoulders, and she sighed, snuggling deeper into his side.

“It was kind of a meditative thing to stay in that shop with
the bike splayed out before me and to know that if I didn’t put her back
together no one would. I still can’t believe I left her behind when I went to
college. I loved that bike.”

“I’m glad you put her back together. It’s good to evaluate
your life now and then.”

“Is that what you’re doing down here?”

“I’m…no…I…” She took a deep breath. “I don’t really know
what I’m doing. I guess it was easier to stay than it would have been to go
back.”

“That’s not much of a reason to put down roots.”

“This is where we’re from, Isaac. What’s wrong with coming
home?” She pushed against his side to extricate herself from his embrace. He
held on for a moment but then lifted his arm, and she stood up.

He moved to the edge of the couch. “There’s nothing wrong
with coming home or even putting down roots in your hometown, if you’re doing
it because that’s what you want. But if you gave up your prestigious job at
George Washington University in order to appease two people who are gone, then
you’re making a mistake. You’re staying here for the same reasons that I didn’t
come back and it’s no way to live.”

She turned her back on him. “Sadie talks too much.”

He laughed. “Maybe, but our little shopping trip to get
those Hanukkah gifts was good for us.”

She put her hands on her hips and faced him. “Did you tell
her about Leslie?” She wanted to take the harshly spoken words back the moment
they were out of her mouth. She’d been deflecting the conversation. That was
it, he would walk out the door and she would never see him again.

He took a step closer and ran his hands up and down her
arms, giving her goose bumps. “I did tell her and I told my mother.”

“I’m sorry.” Closing the gap between them, she wrapped her
arms around him. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay. I should have told them a long time ago and
Sadie shouldn’t have told me your business. Though, she only did it out of
concern for you and I’m glad she did. You’re not an easy woman to read.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, for instance, I’m not completely sure if you like the
Christmas tree or you’re just humoring me. The only time I’m one hundred
percent certain of how you’re feeling is when we make love. That’s when you
come alive and let all your barriers down. Other than that, the only time I’ve
seen you lose control was the night you ran out of the shop. I’m not saying you
should get hysterical more often, but a little emotion would be helpful.”

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard it before. Her ex had
called her a cold fish and tried to provoke fights all the time. “Just because
I don’t wear every emotion on my sleeve doesn’t mean I’m not having them.”

She tried to get out of his arm. He held on. “I know that,
Giada. I don’t want to change you. When you feel safe enough, you’ll let those
walls down. I can wait.”

She stopped struggling. What did that mean? Where was he
waiting? Why didn’t she ask the questions rifling through her head?
Coward.

Resting her head on his chest, she saw the nearly finished
tree sparkling back at her. “I love the tree, Isaac. Thank you.”

His lips pressed against the crown of her head. “You’re
welcome. Shall we finish decorating it?”

She was about to agree, when she realized her mistake. “Oh
my God. How could I have forgotten? Wait right here.”

She dashed for the large storage closet in the hallway. It
was the place where she’d tucked away all her keepsakes from her parents’
house. She hadn’t been able to take much due to the size of the condo. But
she’d not been able to part with certain things. She boxed them all up and hid
them away in the closet for a time when she would be stronger and ready to look
at them again.

The light in the closet came on and she looked over her
shoulder to find Isaac standing in the double accordion doors. He surveyed the
closet. At least he’d had the good sense to turn on the light that she’d
completely forgotten was there.

Her heart pounded and she was hyperventilating. Could she
have sold it with all the rest or left it in the old house when she sold it? “I
know it’s in here somewhere. The box is marked ‘Mom’s stuff’ and I know it’s in
here.”

He gripped her shoulders and lifted her off her knees,
turned her and held her face in his palms so she was forced to look him in the
eyes. “Calm down. Don’t panic. We’ll find the box.”

She nodded, and he smiled before kissing her nose.

He wanted emotion, he was sure getting it now. He started
pulling boxes off the shelf and stacking them on the floor. They checked the
labels until he pulled the sixth or seventh box down. “Here it is.”

Giada grabbed the box out of his hand and knelt on the floor
in the hall. She stared down at her own handwritten label and thought she might
throw up. All the things that were most precious to her mother were in the
small packing box.

He put all the other boxes back in the closet and turned off
the light. Then he leaned down and offered his hand. She took it and rose to
her feet. He reached down and picked up the box and together they returned to
the couch.

She took a breath and stared at the box. He slit the tape
that held the lid tightly closed with his pocketknife.

Giada gave the snug lid a tug, revealing a wad of white
tissue paper. Reverently, she removed the bundle of paper and unwrapped the
angel which had topped her parents’ trees since before she was born. Her
porcelain face, white wings and blonde hair had held up well over the years.
Her mother had taken special care to store the angel where the temperature
wouldn’t crack the delicate pottery. Her white dress was trimmed in gold thread
and she wore a dark-red cloak. She was stunning and Giada’s heart hurt looking
at her.

“She’s beautiful. Do you want to put her on our tree?”

Our tree. She liked the sound of that. Nodding, she got up.
Isaac pulled a dining chair over so that she could reach the top. Then he held
on to her waist while she affixed the cone over the top of the pine tree.

The two of them sat back down on the couch and admired their
work.

“Did you want to go through the rest of your mother’s
things?”

Her throat was clogged with emotion. “Not tonight,” she
croaked.

He placed the lid back on the box and took it down the hall
to the closet. When he returned, he helped her clean up all the bags and
packaging and put them in storage too.

It was late when they finally had everything looking festive
for the holiday. “I’m starving.”

She laughed, realizing her stomach had growled as soon as
he’d mentioned hunger. “How about I make a quick pasta?”

“Is that traditional for Christmas Eve?”

She said, “Among other things. My mother used to invite all
the neighbors and put on a big spread with seven different types of fish and
pasta. It’s an Italian tradition called the Feast of the Seven Fishes.”

“Wow. I don’t think we can manage that on such short notice.
Maybe next year.”

He was just being cute. She shouldn’t read anything into his
mention of next year. She had a week. She would enjoy it. No regrets.

She pulled cans of diced tomatoes, olive oil and tomato
paste out of the pantry and opened them. Once she had a little oil in the pan,
she peeled and added two cloves of garlic.

Isaac leaned over the countertop and watched her every move.
“What can I do?”

“Can you dice an onion?”

“I’m sure I can.” He came around the counter and took the
knife from her. Before she knew it, he was standing next to her, dicing away
while she cut up mushrooms. Cooking with him had a familiar note to it. The
kitchen was small but they never got in each other’s way. He acted the part of
a proper sous-chef and she finished up the sauce while the water came to a
boil.