Hers for the Holidays (14 page)

“You coming back to bed?” she said from the bedroom doorway.

“I don’t think so. Not tired,” he replied, though on some level, he was exhausted. “You can, though. We have a few hours before we need to check out.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked, but she stayed in the doorway.

He took a deep breath, dove in.

“I was just thinking,” he said, turning to face her.

“About what?”

“Us.”

She didn’t say anything, but he noted how she immediately wrapped her arms around the front of her. She’d put on one of the thick terry-cloth robes from the bath, and was covered from neck to calf. He smiled. The thing dwarfed her. It was cuter than hell, but he figured she wouldn’t like hearing that.

“Don’t worry. I know we’re not in this for keeps. No wedding bells or promise rings,” he said. “But why does this have to stop now? We can be friends—like this—back home, too. We’re adults, right? We can do whatever we want.”

She pushed a hand through her hair, her most prominent nervous habit. “Why are you bringing this up now, Ely?”

“I don’t know. I guess because I just thought of it. I like being with you, and I don’t feel like ending this yet,” he said bluntly, putting it out there. “I don’t know why we have to set a deadline.”

She inched into the room slowly.

“I like being with you, too, but things would be too complicated at home. Too hard to explain to people who know us that we’re just jumping each other’s bones. People would expect—”

“That’s bull. We don’t have to explain anything. It’s nobody’s business and I’m not in the habit of sharing my sex life with my family, or anyone else, anyway,” he said, hoping to lighten the tone, but also to appeal to her sense of reason.

Her arguments were flimsy; there was no reason that they couldn’t be together whenever they wanted, wherever they wanted.

Unless of course, she really was done. Bored. Ready to move on.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, sounding frustrated.

“It’s exactly that easy,” he countered, digging in.

She frowned. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t understand.”

“I’ve told you what I want. Do you know what you want, Lydia?”

She stood, tense, clearly annoyed, and then her shoulders slumped as she looked at him, nodding.

“You’re right. I want more of this. More of you,” she said, stepping up and sliding her hands over the front of his chest. “Maybe we could get together now and then at home. As friends,” she said, shrugging, as if to make it less than it was. He bridled at that, but knew not to push.

Ely’s heart thundered under her touch. She just agreed, albeit apprehensively, to seeing each other when they returned to Philly. Her concession felt fragile, like gossamer between them. He didn’t want to damage it. His hands came up to cover hers.

“Very special friends,” he said, stepping in closer until their hands were trapped between them.

The corners of her lips tilted up slightly. “Yes, very special friends,” she responded with an eye roll. This time the humor reached out, and he felt it warm him.

Ely relaxed, having won the battle, and that was enough since there was no war. He and Lydia were still on the same page, generally speaking, but a new connection had been formed. It was a great, sexy, hot connection, he thought, as they kissed.

His hands pulled her in, traveling around to her back and kneading the tense muscles there. The discussion had really tightened her up, but Ely knew how to take care of that. Amazingly, he was ready for her again, or would be soon, and walked her back to the bedroom, disposing of the robe as they went. She fell back on the bed with a laugh, more relaxed. He loved seeing her this way.

“Roll over,” he said and smiled as she wiggled her eyebrows at him before complying.

But Ely wasn’t in any hurry. Settling up over her thighs, he started a back rub that massaged every knot from her neck and shoulders. As his hands drifted over her, he lost himself in touching and studying the ink on her back, studying the angle of her shoulder blade and the dimple at the base of her spine. She moaned and pushed her bottom up against his erection.

“Can’t. Out of condoms,” he said with deep, deep regret.

“S’ok, I’m protected,” she urged.

She pushed her hips up again, and Ely slid back to his feet, his hands trembling slightly at the idea of being with her this way. Standing by the edge of the bed, he urged her back toward him as he parted her thighs and stepped in between. The first touch of her skin to his was so intense he sucked in a breath and paused, uncertain how long he could last. Only Lydia could have him this hot after having spent himself so many times in the hours before. He didn’t know what it was about her, but he liked it.

“Please, Ely,” she said, her hands curling into the sheets, and he couldn’t deny her a second longer, sliding inside, deep and easy, with a long groan at how good it felt.

“You’re so hot, so soft,” he managed, pulling back, then forward, then thrusting in again, faster, harder. He took in the curve of her back, the sway of her hips, the exotic ink, and wanted this to last forever. This was perfection, he thought, watching her body shudder before he lost any control he thought he had.

It was more than an hour later that they finally admitted that they had to pack up and head back to the ranch. There was a lot to do before the festival and before they got ready to return to Philadelphia the week after Christmas.

Now, however, Ely felt lighter since he wasn’t facing their return with that sense of finality that had been dogging him. He and Lydia would continue to see each other when they wanted to, casually, and eventually their interest would probably flame out and they would remain friends. It was all he could possibly ask for and all he wanted, he told himself as he looked at her in the car and hushed any objections his heart was making.

13

L
YDIA
WAS
AS
nervous as could
be when she finally came downstairs after changing clothes three times before settling on the first outfit she had put on. Ely’s approving gaze as it traveled over her in the formfitting black pants and bright red wool sweater confirmed she had made a good choice. The thermal underwear she had on beneath were less sexy, but as she would be out in the garage at her booth doing henna tats for the first night of the festival, she wanted to stay warm.

“You are one sexy elf, indeed,” Ely said, looking good in his own dark jeans and black sweater, a red flannel collar peeking out from underneath his collar. “Why don’t we go walk around for a little while, first, and take it all in? Get something to eat before you man your booth?”

Lydia swallowed and looked toward the kitchen. “I have some things in the fridge, here, if you’re hungry.”

Ely peered closer. “Why are you so nervous? This will be fun.”

“Right. The thought of being publicly humiliated by people who don’t want me here is really something to look forward to.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Or what if no one comes to my booth, or thinks the tattoos are stupid?”

“That won’t happen, either. If it does, you can do me, and I’ll get as many as it takes to get everyone else interested.”

Lydia had to smile. She was being ridiculous, she knew. If Ginny or her family showed up, they probably would just ignore her, if they came at all. She just really didn’t want a repeat of what happened in the grocery store, and she felt like a target, to some extent, sitting out there for all to see.

But as Ely said, that wasn’t going to happen. No doubt Ginny had no interest in seeing her, and whoever was harassing her wouldn’t do so in front of possibly hundreds of people.

“Okay, then, I’m ready,” she said brightly, joining him at the door.

She stepped out onto the porch and paused, catching her breath.

“Oh, wow,” she said, taking it all in for the first time. They had seen it in parts, putting it all together, but now...it was like the entire area around the house and the barns had been transformed into some magical winter wonderland. Lights glowed everywhere above their heads, strung along and between the buildings. The decorated trees glittered and danced in the slight breeze, stacks of gifts donated by everyone in town piled underneath—the night was perfect. The sky was clear and the air was crisp—cold, yes, but in that clean, fantastic way that made everything seem sharper and brighter. People were drifting in from the main road, being diverted to park in the frozen field off to the left, behind the barn where she and Ely had had their snowball fight. Some kids came running in, laughing and looking at everything; some others just stood in happy awe, like she was, admiring it.

“You helped make this happen, Lydia. Keep that in mind,” Ely whispered in her ear, delivering a kiss to her cheek. “Come here, there’s something else you need to see.”

They spotted Geri and Faith by a tree near the entrance, decorated in gold and silver. There was a plaque set beside it, and Ely steered Lydia around to see.

She’d expected it was a welcome to the festival—and it was—with an honorary message about her mother, and a thank-you to Lydia as well, for hosting the festival. Her picture was on the placard, alongside her mother’s, and below, the picture of them baking cookies, as well as the one of her mother hanging lights. Lydia stared at it for a long time, letting it all wash through her. She was afraid to say anything in case she made a complete fool of herself.

“Do you like it?” Faith asked, sounding worried. Lydia realized she had been standing there, silent, for several minutes, and a larger crowd had gathered. “We thought those pictures really showed the resemblance between you two.”

“It’s wonderful,” Lydia managed, and turned with a smile and a hug for Faith and Geri. “Thank you so much.”

“No, the thanks is all to you,” Geri said with a wink. “Now, let’s get this party started!”

Laughter rose and more people arrived. Hot chocolate and the scent of freshly fried doughnuts as well as other treats filled the air, and the local school choruses took turns caroling as everyone went through the various booths and activities provided.

Lydia was so busy at her booth that she barely had time to look up—every teenager and tween in town, along with some of the adults—had lined up for her henna tats, and she just hoped she had enough supplies.

Ely brought her snacks and drinks, and she visited as she inked little paisley stars and other stylized Christmas decor on hands and forearms.

She was having such a great time, her nervousness evaporated quickly. She met some people she had known from before, people who spoke so nicely of her mother, and new people who had just moved here. Everyone was lovely.

“C’mon, time for a break,” Ely interjected after about two hours. The festival went until eleven, which meant she had two hours left. Then she would do it again tomorrow night—now it was something she looked forward to.

“I don’t need a break,” she objected. “This is fun.”

Turning around, Ely looked at the line of expectant customers and smiled. “Okay, she’ll be right with you folks, just a minute,” he said, dipping down and kissing her hard and long in front of everyone.

Lydia, shocked, had no response but to respond, aware of the chorus of
“oooooooo”
and the childish giggles from the younger kids.

“Sorry.
I
needed that,” Ely said with a grin and a wink, and strode off looking like...well, like he had just kissed her in front of God and everyone.

“That looked like fun. I hope you don’t mind that I cut to the front of the line,” someone said, and Lydia looked away from Ely to find Ginny facing her.

Lydia froze, unsure what to say. “Of course not. Welcome,” she murmured. But then she had no clue what would happen next.

“Listen, could we talk for a second?” Ginny asked, and Lydia agreed, a lump in her throat.

“I’ll be back in ten, guys. Remember your spot in line and help yourself to some hot cocoa and cookies,” she said with a too-bright smile as she invited Ginny farther in.

“I don’t know what to say,” Lydia said, unsure what else to say, and then took a breath. “No, I do know what to say. I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Ginny. I’ve said that a million times over the last twelve years, but never to you, and I should have done that. I never should have goaded you into riding that horse, and I am completely responsible for everything that happened that day. I wish I could change it, but I can’t. I don’t blame you for hating me. I hate myself for what I did. But I am sorry,” Lydia said, meeting her former friend’s eyes squarely.

Ginny looked gorgeous. Wrapped in a white wool coat and hat, her chestnut hair was gleaming, her cheeks pink, and her big brown eyes took in Lydia with stark surprise.

“Wow, that was quite a speech,” Ginny said. “My turn now?”

Lydia braced herself for whatever Ginny had to say, and nodded. “Whatever you have to say to me, I know I deserve it.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Ginny said with a heavy breath, and Lydia just stared, confused.

“Sorry for what? What on earth are you talking about?”

Lydia watched as Ginny’s hands clutched tightly in her lap.

“Well, I won’t say that I didn’t hate you after it happened. I was scared and I felt like everything I wanted was gone—including my best friend, who just...left. How could you go, Lydia? If ever I needed you, it was then.”

Lydia was flattened. “But I...it was my fault...and your mother. I had to leave. It was best for everyone.”

Ginny shook her head. “It wasn’t best for me. I needed you. That’s what I was angry with you about. For leaving. I know what my father said to you—but he was just distraught, as well. When you really left, well, everyone was stunned. What happened wasn’t your fault—not entirely—believe me, several years of therapy taught me that. I’m the one who climbed up on that horse. That was my choice. But we were all kids. We did foolish things.”

Lydia reeled, Ely’s words coming back to her.

“Leaving was your choice, and I did hate you for that. But then your mother told me about you, what you were doing, the good and the bad, and she knew that you blamed yourself. That you refused to let yourself be happy. She gave me your number years ago. I know she hoped that we’d make contact again, and that maybe I could get you to come back,” Ginny said, shaking her head and turning away.

“I didn’t call because I thought that you might not want to come back here, be friends with me. That I was somehow repulsive to you. It’s what I thought when we met in the store—you seemed so...horrified,” Ginny said lamely, holding up her hand against Lydia’s protest. “But your mother was sick, and she’s gone now. And if I had called that number, you might have had more time with her. I suppose I feel that you didn’t have that time because of me,” Ginny said, her voice choking. “So for that,
I’m
sorry.”

Lydia was beyond overwhelmed, trying to process it all, but her mind was spinning. How could things have been so terribly misunderstood, all of that time together—with Ginny, and her family—so tragically lost?

But Lydia pulled herself from the past to the present. There was nothing she could do about what had happened; but she could do something about right now.

“I’m not repulsed by you, Ginny. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now. You’re beautiful, brave...you always were. I just didn’t think you’d ever want me around again. I was horrified in the store, for having to face up to my past and the consequences of what I’d done—not by you,” Lydia said, trying to find words for it all. “I did see Mom before she died, and we talked, on the phone, and by email, over the years. Dad, too. Like you said, that was my choice, too, not coming home. Not your fault,” Lydia said, sitting down hard on a bench by the wall.

“All that time wasted,” Ginny said regretfully.

“Yeah,” Lydia echoed, and they sat in silence for a moment.

“I loved the tattoo you gave my daughter. She couldn’t wait to show me. I was wondering if I could have one to match it?”

Lydia’s head snapped up. “Your daughter?”

Ginny grinned. “The second to last one you did. She’s my youngest, of four.”

“Four? You have four kids, but...”

“Medicine has come a long way,” Ginny said with a smile. “I live a more or less normal life. And Charles is...really hot.”

Lydia laughed, and then they were both laughing.

“Yeah, he is,” Lydia agreed. “I could definitely do a tat for you to match your daughter’s.”

As she looked at Ginny and felt the weight fall away, Lydia was quite sure of a lot of things. She knew her mother wanted this above all else—for her to stop punishing herself for the past—and she couldn’t let regrets hold her back any longer.

Giving in to the moment, she rushed forward and grabbed Ginny in a tight hug. For a second, it was like they were girls again, with all of their hopes and dreams ahead of them.

“Will you have some time after, or before you go back? To catch up?”

“I’ll make time. I’d like nothing more,” Lydia said.

“I’d better open the booth again, or there might be a revolt,” Lydia said with a grin, releasing her friend. “But first, I think I need to do something.”

Ginny smiled knowingly. “Something with your sexy new friend?”

Lydia couldn’t stop the answering grin if she tried. “Yeah. I’ve been running away from everything, including him, and I want to let him know I’m not going to do that anymore.”

“Good call. He’s the kind of guy you want to let catch you, from what I’ve seen.”

“He really is.”

Though doubt must have shown in her face, as Ginny’s hand reached out to give her arm a squeeze.

“Just let him know what you want. The rest will fall into place as it’s supposed to,” Ginny said wisely, and Lydia nodded, taking a bolstering breath.

“Let everyone know I’ll be back in a bit, and that you’re first in line,” Lydia said with a grin, heading out the door.

She dashed in between the barns, and the alleys, but there were so many people it was hard to find Ely in the crowd. Then she noticed a light on up in the bedroom of the house, and smiled.

Maybe they would be taking a little break after all.