Pulled (44 page)

I smiled into her hair, thinking of how this night marked a new beginning and knowing that every night for the rest of our lives we would fal asleep this very way.

I awoke to the smel of bacon, my stomach growling. I forced my eyes open enough to see the clock that read eight-twenty. I couldn’t believe I’d slept so long. I rol ed from bed, dragging on my pants and running my hands through my hair, trying to tame the disaster that it was.

I crept silently down the stairs, taking a moment to watch Melanie in the kitchen. She was dressed in red flannel pajamas and black fuzzy slippers, her movements lithe as she made her away around the room. It made my soul soar to see her so at ease and doing something she loved so much. I could see the change from that night those months ago when she was so broken—drained. Now, I saw life in her eyes when she looked up at me over her shoulder as I wrapped my arms around her waist.

“Good morning.” I kissed her cheek.

“Mmm.” She brushed her cheek against mine, keeping her attention on the stove as she flipped the omelets in the skil et. “Good morning. Are you hungry?”

“Famished.” I reached over and grabbed a piece of bacon, popping it in my mouth.

“Me too. Could you grab a couple of plates?” She nodded toward a cupboard. I pul ed two down and held them out while she transferred the food to our plates. She fil ed them with ham and cheese omelets, bacon, and toast.

I don’t think I’d ever been hungrier. I set the plates on the table and went to get silverware while Melanie poured us coffee. We settled in next to each other at the little round table and looked out upon the lake.

“This is unbelievable.” She gazed out through the huge windows. They were slightly fogged over from the warmth inside meeting the freezing temperatures outside but not enough to hide the tal pines framing the view that opened up to the crystal blue water that seemed to go on forever. Only the mountains in the distance gave any indication of its end. Snow covered the deck and wooden walkway leading down to a pier. The tree branches hung low and were heavy-laden, the snow layering everything but the frigid, fluid lake.

“I thought you’d love it here.”

I brought the first bite of omelet to my mouth, once again struck with how something so simple could taste so good. I swal owed, taking a sip of coffee. “So, what do you want to do today?”

She paused in thought. “I’d be happy just hanging out here al day if that’s okay with you?” If it was okay with me? I would be satisfied if we never left once in the next eleven days. Nothing sounded better than being holed up in this cabin with Melanie.

“There’s a ham in the fridge, and I thought I’d make that for Christmas dinner tomorrow, and maybe I could make that Italian casserole for dinner tonight? I think I remember you like it...,” she said, her voice trailing off with a mischievous smile and her eyebrows rose. Obviously, she’d noticed. I made sure to order everything needed for it when I made the list for the shopper.

I grinned at being caught. She’d made the same dish at my request on every special occasion she’d ever cooked for us; the two birthdays she’d spent with me, my high school graduation, and twice for Christmas Eve. I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate.

She shook her head, laughing. “I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t remembered.”

We finished breakfast and refil ed our cups, settling onto the sofa. Melanie lay against me, and I wrapped us in a warm blanket. In silence, we watched the snow flurries melt as the flakes landed in the water.

We lay like that for what seemed like hours, lost in thought. I ignored my phone ringing on the kitchen table, unwil ing to get up and interrupt my time with Melanie. It became increasingly difficult when it continued to ring every fifteen minutes or so.

When the phone began to ring again, I groaned and threw my head back into the pil ow. I tried to keep my frustration in check, knowing there was only one person who could be so obnoxious.

“Just get it, Daniel.” Melanie sat up abruptly, her frustration as apparent as my own.

“I don’t want to talk to her.” Yes, I was acting like a child as I considered smashing the phone that al owed my mistakes to fol ow me across the country. Didn’t I deserve a reprieve from her hounding? She had no right cal me, especial y here—especial y on Christmas Eve.

“What if there’s something wrong?” Melanie was always the voice of reason, though she clearly had no idea of just how unreasonable Vanessa actual y was.

“There’s nothing wrong, Melanie. She does this constantly. I just ignore it. It’l only encourage her if I answer it.”

“Wel , you can’t ignore her forever. She’s your...your son’s mother.” With as much effort as she put into being strong, pain stil laced each word. She couldn’t even look at me when she said it, staring at her lap while she did what she believed to be the right thing.

I reluctantly stood when the incessant ringing began, picked up the phone, and hissed into it, “What do you want?”

I stood with my back to Melanie, facing the wal , hoping to spare her the conversation. I winced when I heard the whiney voice. “I...I was just cal ing to say Merry Christmas.”

She was kidding me? Eight cal s to wish me a Merry Christmas? I sucked in a deep breath, trying to control my anger.

“Vanessa, nothing has changed. I told you not to cal me unless it’s about the baby.”

There was silence before she spoke, quiet, pleading, “Please, Daniel. It’s Christmas and...and I’m alone.”

I exhaled heavily. I had no idea how to deal with this woman. She was completely obsessed and
driving
me insane. I felt a soft, warm hand come to rest on the bare skin of my lower back, soothing—Melanie literal y standing by my side while I dealt with Vanessa. I pul ed Melanie to me, leaning on her for support. I swal owed hard, desperately trying to be civil to the woman who was trying to ruin my life—the life that had just been given back to me.

I spoke to her, my tone even and void of emotion without portraying the complete hatred I felt for her,

“Vanessa, I’m sorry you’re alone on Christmas, but you have to understand. That has nothing to do with me.” I couldn’t believe I’d gotten that out and stil maintained my composure. I focused on the electricity that circulated through my body as Melanie comforted me.

I continued in a control ed voice, “You need to leave me alone, Vanessa. You’re just making this harder on yourself.”

I could feel her objection through the phone before she even voiced it. “I’m not giving up on us, Daniel.”

“Then you’re wasting your time.” I said it soft, actual y feeling sorry for her for being so incredibly pathetic.

“Daniel—”

“Just leave me alone, Vanessa, please.” Melanie squeezed me, taking some of the burden and sharing in this hopeless situation.

I waited, praying Vanessa would agree and just, I don’t know, move on with her own life. Real y, I should have known better than to hope for something like that.

“No.”

I shook my head at her futile determination, realizing it was no use. There was nothing I could say that would convince her to stop this foolish game.

“Goodbye, Vanessa.” I ended the cal before she had a chance to respond. I shut off the phone, not wil ing to give her another chance to disturb our holiday.

I looked down at Melanie who gazed up at me, her eyes fil ed with concern. I hated myself for putting her through this. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

She shook her head sharply. “I’m here no matter what, remember?”

“Yeah,” I said as I kissed the top of her head.

I knew she would be. There was no question of

her devotion, but how could I not feel terrible for putting her through it?

We were going to have to deal with Vanessa for at least the next eighteen years.

I held the knife steady as I cut into the tomato, slicing through it before turning it to the side so I could dice it, taking the one job Melanie had trusted me with very seriously.

Even though we were alone, it was stil the first Christmas we’d spent together in years, so we’d decided to dress up for dinner just like we would have done had we been spending it at my family’s house. Right now, I was real y enjoying that decision. Melanie moved around the kitchen, looking absolutely amazing in a red dress, her cleavage peeking out through the V-neck. She had the long sleeves pushed up over her forearms as she cooked, keeping the fabric out of her way. The skirt swished around her knees as she made her way back and forth between the counter and oven.

I found it difficult to pay attention to the task in front of me. My body was painful y aware of every move she made, even though I was trying to give my regard to the very sharp blade coming dangerously close to the tips of my fingers.

She glanced over my shoulder. “I’m ready for those whenever you’re finished.”

“Just a sec.” I finished up quickly, proudly presenting her with the bowl of tomatoes so she could layer them over the top of the casserole.

She pecked my lips swiftly. “Thanks.”

I sat back and watched as she spread them over the top of the mixture and slid the dish into the oven.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” I inspected the bottles nestled in the smal rack and picked out a red that would go wel with our dinner.

“Mmm, yeah. That’d be nice.” She moved on to prepare the salad.

I popped the cork and fil ed two wine glasses halfway.

“Here you go, beautiful.” I set the glass next to her on the counter, reaching up to massage her shoulders, regretting that I was so incompetent in the kitchen. I figured I could at least make her feel good while she made my favorite dinner.

Luckily, Melanie agreed, groaning at my touch.

“That...feels...so...good.”

I kissed the back of her head, my nose immersed in her rich, brown curls. Swimming in the perfume that was only Melanie, I al owed her aura to ground me. My nerves had spiked, just a bit, knowing where this evening was going. I just had no idea what her reaction would be.

Al I knew was I wanted her. I needed to share my life with her—completely—not this messed up situation where I was awarded only a smal al owance of her. I was already whol y hers, and I could not bear another day where she was not whol y mine. Above al of that, though, I needed her safe.

While we waited for our dinner to cook, we moved to the couch, sipped our wine, and immersed ourselves in conversation until the buzzer cal ed us to dinner.

The casserole was every bit as good as I

remembered, maybe even better. I was sure that impression had a lot to do with the fact that Melanie and I were spending our first Christmas together in nearly a decade. I was now a firm believer in the old adage that you could never truly appreciate something until you had been without it.

The room was dim as we ate by candlelight.

Melanie’s face glowed, not just from the flicker of the light, but with her joy. The smile on her face never faded. Her cheeks were the perfect shade of rose, emitting waves of heat, drawing me in. I found myself constantly reaching out to touch the soft flesh, running the back of my hand over her precious face. We laughed and loved as we ate and drank.

We celebrated us. This was a meal I would never forget.

“Merry Christmas, Daniel.” She looked at me, her expression soft, adoring. She reached out to take my hand under the table, running the pad of her thumb over the back of my hand, her touch so calming yet always fire, never a contradiction.

I intertwined my fingers with hers and stood. Her body a magnet to mine, she echoed my movements and rose as wel . “Merry Christmas, Melanie.” I kissed her tenderly, gently, savoring the remnants of saltiness on her mouth as it mingled with her constant sweet. I lingered, manifesting my every affection.

I led her to the fire. The embers glowed red, the flames jumping, crackling, tinged in blue, providing the only light in the room. I helped her to the floor, staring unabashedly as she curled her long legs under her and settled down in front of me.

I didn’t know I was so nervous until I realized my hands were shaking.

I fumbled in my pocket, pul ing out the smal box, tentatively placing it on the floor in front of her.

Melanie gasped, her eyes flitting between the box and me. “Daniel...I...I don’t have anything for you.” As if I could ever want anything other than her.

“Shh, baby, you’ve already given me everything.

And...it’s old.”

I’d held on to it for a very long time.

She began to reach for it, and I stopped her. “I need to say something first.”

She looked at me, confused as she withdrew her hand. She waited expectantly while I wrestled with how to best get this out.

“Melanie, sweetheart, you know how much I respect you, right?”

She nodded without hesitation.

“Good. Because I need you to believe I’d never try to control you. But I can’t let you go back there. It’s not safe.” She immediately refused, just as I knew she would. “No, it’s not safe for me to leave yet. He’l know why.

We have to give it more time.”

“He’s going to find out anyway. We don’t have more time.” I lowered my voice, running my fingers through the lock of hair that had fal en in her face, pushing it back in place. “We can’t hide this forever, and you can’t be in that house when he finds out.”