You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology (32 page)

“Yes, I already said it, but I don’t think I said it well enough. I didn’t mean what I said, Selina. I promise. I lost control of my baby—I
sold
control of my baby—and this trip hasn’t helped me come to terms with that fact. But—” He stopped himself before he launched into more about his own frustrations. “But that’s not what’s important right now. It doesn’t matter why I said what I said. It doesn’t change the fact that I hurt you. And I’m sorry for that.”

Her entire body seemed to relax at once. He’d said the magic words, and even better, they were true. He’d meant every one of them.

“Thank you,” she said, turning her head to give him a slight smile. “I appreciate and accept your apology. It’s hard for me to understand how your life is causing you stress right now, but just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. And I know that stress can make even the best people say things they don’t mean.” She paused a beat. “And I think you’re one of the best people.”

They didn’t say much to each other on the drive back to the hotel, but at least there was no silence pushing down on the car.

Back in their room, he turned on the television for background noise while he applied for a job at the company that bought Terry—maybe it was a way to get back in. But he didn’t need the television for company. Selina, sitting on her bed flipping through her phone, provided that and more.

T
he buzz of
the heater might as well have been a mosquito buzzing directly in Selina’s ears for all she was able to relax her mind and sleep. The highway noise couldn’t drown it out, though she was at least honest enough with herself to admit that the cars would be keeping her awake if the blowing air wasn’t already doing it.

She rolled over in bed, kicking at her sheet.
No plan.
Marc’s words knocked on her subconscious every time she got anywhere remotely near sleep. The problem wasn’t that he’d said the words—though they had hurt like a large, sharp needle. The problem was that they were true. Taking one class per semester at a community college and working at a diner until she could escape wasn’t a plan. It had been an existence, and she’d been lucky that Marc had been the one to walk into Babe’s Diner and give her this opportunity.

She sighed. That had been more of a plan than what she currently had, which was find a job and a place to live. But how? God, how would she do it in the week she had the use of Marc’s hotel room at the ski resort? She’d e-mailed her professor, both about her final assignment and the gallery, but that wasn’t really a plan, either. That was a shot in the dark.

She pushed the sheets down and sat up. She didn’t want to rely on Marc. They were both lost and wandering. If she asked—or even looked like she might need it—he would probably be willing to find a place in Salt Lake City—pestering his friend through texts and e-mail—and she could be adrift again, just in a bigger city. The jokes they had shared and the intimate conversations would become sore as they became the only thing holding each other up.

Resolved to make a plan past the week at the resort, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, grabbed her phone, and tiptoed her way to the bathroom. Door shut and light on, Selina posted to Facebook that she needed a job and a room in Salt Lake City, starting immediately. Most of the people she knew from high school had gone to Spokane when they’d left for the “big city,” but a few had ended up in Salt Lake, and if they didn’t have any leads, maybe they knew someone who did. She texted Babe, too. Maybe Babe’s friend knew of something or someone that could help.

Her business done, she flipped the light off and snuck back out of the bathroom. Enough light streamed through the window that she could make out Marc’s sleeping form. He was sleeping in a T-shirt and his boxers, a far cry from last night when they’d both been sleeping in as many layers as they’d been able to put on.

He was handsome and kind, and as soon as she found a place to live, she’d never see him again. The realization made her sad . . . and lonely. It would be nice to have someone she was more than Facebook acquaintances with in Salt Lake. More importantly, it would have been nice to continue to know Marc. Maybe they could exchange e-mails after he returned to Seattle after his adventures. Or wherever it was he was going to go next.

Or maybe when he dropped her off at wherever she was going to be, that would be the end of this. If she wanted anything more to happen with him than that kiss she could still feel on her lips, she would need to act now.

Before she’d realized what she was even considering, she was sitting on the edge of his bed and had placed her hand on his shoulder.

Marc stirred, then murmured a soft, “Hmm?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Can I get in bed with you?”

“Hmm?” he muttered again. “Oh . . . yes, uh, of course.” He scooted over, taking most of the sheets and blankets with him. But then he shifted around, reaching around behind him and lifting the covers and sheets off himself. He gave them a good yank so that she had covers now, too, as well as space in the bed and someone to cuddle with.

When she got in bed, she rolled over to her side, and he curled up around her like they had been navigating sharing a bed for years. His hand rested on her stomach as they spooned. The light touch stirred desire deep in her belly, want tingling between her legs.

And curiosity.

She knew how Marc’s lips felt under hers, but how would his chest feel as she rubbed her hands against it? And how would he feel when poised above her, about to enter her?

She rolled over so that they were facing each other. He woke enough to shift so that their legs were intertwined. He was semihard against her leg.

Does he have a condom?
The thought flitted through her mind before she leaned forward and kissed him.

He responded immediately, pressing his lips against hers and weaving his hands around her head and threading them through her hair, holding her tightly against him. She rocked closer to him. Feeling him hard against her leg wasn’t enough. Feeling his hands in her hair and his lips on hers wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

She shoved her hands under the waistband of his boxers, digging her fingernails into his perfect butt and pulling him closer to her.

In an instant, he had flipped her onto her back and climbed on top of her, fitting himself between her legs. His hard length, covered by the thin cotton of his boxers, was pressed against her. “Oh, Selina, you feel so good,” he groaned as he rocked against her.

She yanked up his shirt, tugging at it trying to get it off. His arms got caught in the sleeves as they both struggled for a moment to pull it over his head. While he was still propped up on his arms, she skimmed her palms over his now-bare chest. His soft chest hair tickled. He sighed, relaxing into her. Then, with a low growl of frustration and desire, he pulled at her shirt, and they had another moment of struggle to get her T-shirt off. This time, they bumped heads and giggled.

“Do you have a condom?” she whispered as soon as his hands hit the elastic of her pajama shorts.

“Hmm?” he murmured, nibbling at her neck. “Oh! Yes. Don’t move.”

“What if I move to take off my shorts?” she asked with a wiggle of her hips.

He smiled, then kissed her neck, her ears, and finally her lips. “I suppose that’s okay,” he teased.

He lifted off her and swung off the bed. As he stood by the side of the bed, she admired the shape of his body, the dark shadows of him backlit by streetlights.

From this moment on, she would recognize his body anywhere. The smell and feel of him was etched in her memory. Her
body
would recognize him. She could feel him in her skin, in her muscles, and in her bones. In her marrow.

She heard his suitcase unzip. He rustled through clothes and then unzipped another pocket. As he returned, he was ripping at the foil packet. Her hips pushed forward and up, wanting him. She was impatient by the time he was standing next to the bed. Their hands intertwined and their bodies writhed and bumped as he tried to put the condom on while she tried to pull off his boxers. Desire deepened the sounds of his chuckles, and her giggles sped into moans.

Suddenly his shorts were off and the condom was on. He was on top of and then inside her. They both sighed, shifting and undulating until he was deep inside her.

She couldn’t touch as much of him as she needed, but she tried. Kisses met shoulders and arms and necks and ears and cheeks. Hands explored backs and butts and rubbed against chests, fingers digging in to skin as their breathing grew more labored and faster until they both cried out at once.

Selina lifted up her hips as Marc bucked several times, groaning with satisfaction until he nearly collapsed on top of her, his arms stopping his fall only once he was a breath away from her.

“Hi,” she said, suddenly a bit shy and weary from the force of her orgasm.

“Hi.” His kiss on her jaw shook the shy feeling away, and she kissed him back.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he climbed off her.

His shadow retreated into the bedroom. The faucet turned on, then off, and then he was climbing back into bed with her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her toward him as if they had been doing this for years.

And as if they had years to keep doing this.

She pushed that thought to the back of her mind, willing herself to focus on the pleasantness of the present as she drifted off to sleep.

*

Marc lay in
bed, feeling just about perfect. He was warm, satiated, and Selina’s body fit perfectly against his, even if his right arm was beginning to fall asleep. He smiled as the perfect solution to his restlessness sprang into his head. Selina could come with him for the rest of his winter trip. His mind swayed off to sleep, buoyed by his dreams of the future and Selina.

S
elina clutched the
handhold above the passenger window as they bounced over the snow-dusted, rutted dirt road to the ice caves. As with the bird sanctuary the day before, this area of Idaho lacked heavy snow and high winds blew what little snow there was up in swirls. Swaths of black lava studded the landscape, a break between the dead grass and tops of sagebrush. Finally, they sprang their way under an arch announcing the ice caves and pulled into the parking lot.

There were three buildings, all made of logs and one clearly a house, probably for the people who ran the caves. One of the buildings was small, with restroom signs nailed to the wood. The largest building also had a sign for the caves—this one smaller and over the door. Between all the buildings and off to the side of the parking lot were statues, the smallest one taller than the roof of the buildings and the tallest one towering over the parking lot. There were several Native Americans, a couple of cavemen and cavewomen, and one dinosaur.

Marc put the SUV in park and turned the car off. “Well, should we go in and see what they’ve got?” he asked. “Though the statues alone might be worth the drive.”

His voice was warm and loving. It had been since they’d woken up this morning, naked limbs tangled together and a satisfied, safe feeling deep in her bones.

“You wanted to see the odd roadside attractions in Idaho, didn’t you?” She nodded her head to the statutes. “Those look about as odd as they come.”

“I don’t understand the dinosaur.”

She laughed. “Neither do I.”

“Come on,” he said, patting her knee. “Let’s see what this is all about.”

They both hopped out of the car and trotted to the information building. They didn’t hold hands, though they stood close enough that their hands brushed each other as they walked. When they reached the door, Marc gave it a hard tug. It was locked.

“Hey,” a voice called out from the porch. “We’re closed for the winter.”

They both turned around. An old man, with deep wrinkles and enough sun damage that Selina couldn’t tell his age beyond
old
, trundled toward them. A worn cowboy hat was pulled low over his head, and the work boots on his feet had clearly seen better days.

“Your website said to call for winter hours,” Marc said.

“Well, did you call?”

“Yeah,” Marc confirmed. “And no one answered.”

The man had crossed the parking lot and was now standing right in front of them. “If you called the number on the website, that one’s old. The missus and I don’t know how to change it, and our son keeps saying he’ll do it later.”

“How long has it been like that?”

“Couple years,” the man said with a shrug. “Most people out this way are more interested in skiing than in caves, so we don’t get many visitors, especially in the winter.”

“Can we have a tour anyway?” Marc asked.

“Caves are closed up for the season. Ain’t much to see.”

“I’ll update your website for you,” Marc offered.

Selina watched with interest as both Marc and the old man seemed to settle into faces primed for negotiation. The old man looked Marc up and down, glanced as his new SUV, and finally said, “That’s not enough to open the caves.”