Page 23 of Just Say Christmas

Page List

Font Size:

“Course,” Caro said. Kane didn’t say anything, just nodded, finished taking wine glasses into the kitchen, and disappeared. After a second, Victoria followed him, and Caro whispered, “Did you and Tom have a fight?”

“No,” Ella said, not bothering to whisper. “But I want to.” She wanted to swear, too, but there was no word good enough.

At which point, Tom opened the first dishwasher—there were two in here, as well as two ovens, two sinks, and the biggest fridge she’d ever seen in her life, because this was also the most flashhouseshe’d ever seen—and said, “If you scrape, I’ll load.”

Caro was still here, so Ella couldn’t say anything else. Not now. She was going to, though.

Silence wasn’t exactly her best thing, not when she had something to say, but what choice did she have? When you were the youngest, you did the washing-up, and anyway, she didn’t want to ruin Nyree and Marko’s weekend.

She couldn’t see what was happening out there. Too dark, other than Chrysalis’s silver hair and serene face, illuminated from beneath by candlelight. She could hear the music, though, and after a minute, when she’d got through all the plates and was starting on the glasses, the fellas came through the kitchen. Marko. Koti. Nic. Will. Four supremely fit rugby players in their togs, going out to learn how to do a romantic couples massage, and she was loading the bloodydishwasherwith hers.

Her movements probably got a little jerky, because Tom asked, “All right?” And that was enough of silence.

“No,”she said, finishing off the wine glasses. She lifted the final two out of the sink, went to set them in front of Tom, and one slipped right out of her grasp. She knew it was hitting the floor and jumped back with a yelp, anticipating the flying shards of glass. Which was when she banged against the island, stumbled, and fell onto one palm. And both knees.

“Ow,”she yelped again. She’d hit a nerve.

The glass didn’t break. Tom was holding it, somehow, in midair, and then he was setting it down and putting out a hand to her.

“You caught it,” she said, still on her knees.

“It’s my job,” he said, looking concerned. Andnoble.“Are you all right?”

That was it. That was enough. She was on her knees, and he was standing over her being perfect again. “Last night,” she told him, scrambling to her feet with the help of his considerable leverage, his hand around hers, “you’re collecting me at the airport, then kissing me in the car like you’ve missed me so much, you couldn’t wait to touch me, and today, you won’t even do a massage with me? If you want to break up, justsayyou want to break up. You think I’ll be running ten kilometers back to the ferry in the dark, crying all the way? I might do. So what? I’m good at running, and I know how to cry, too. You’ll break my heart, but my heart’s been broken before, and I can’t stand here and justwaitanymore. Tell me the truth.”

Caro said, “Right. That’s me going to bed, then.” She sighed. “Or maybe looking for a lounge with nobody in it, because who knows what other dramas are going on in this house. I’msohappy I came this weekend, and I can’t wait to room with you at Uni, Ella. Said nobody. If you need me, though, text me.”

“Sorry,” Ella said, but that was all, because Tom was still standing there, looking tall and tattooed and strong and gentle and taking her breath away, except that he didn’t want to anymore.

Well, fine. Fine. She didn’t check if her cousin was out of the room—there was about a square hectare of kitchen in this house, and none of it helped a bit. It was just a kitchen—before she said, “Tell me the truth. I deserve the truth. I’ve toldyouthe truth.”

Tom opened his mouth, shut it again, shook his head, and said, “What?”

“What, what? Why can’t we do a massage lesson? Why are you being so weird?”

“Because,” he said, then opened the dishwasher again. “We should finish this first.”

“Why?”

“Because it needs to be done.”

“I don’t care. You need totalkto me.”

He shut the dishwasher. “Right, then. I’ll talk to you. I don’t think I should be doing some kind of erotic massage on you when I don’t even know what’s going on with us. Besides, right next to Marko and Nyree and the rest of them? It’s odd.”

“Now you’re going to tell me rugby players don’t do that,” she said. “When I’m right hereaskingto do it.” She was possibly letting her anger run away with her, but still.

“I’m going to tell you that all I’ve tried to do is be there, and all you’ve been doing lately is running away. And, no, I didn’t want to be your fuck buddy, just because you’re here for the weekend and so am I, and I obviously think you’re hot as hell, so why not do it while I’ve got you. If that makes me too conservative, if it makes me stupid, I’m stupid and conservative. I don’t care. I know who I am and what I want, and what I want is you.”

Tom never yelled. He was yelling, though. Part of her thought,Whoa. Wait,and the other part of her thought,Finally.Also, possibly,Wow.“Well, that’s thepoint,”she told him.She was waving her arm around, Outside, the music changed to something even sexier, and this weekend wasnotgoing the way she’d expected it to. “That I came back here, and I knew it was going to be so . . . so hard to do it . . .”

Wait.She had to stop and catch her breath.

Tom had gone still, his brown eyes on her. She wanted to stay with her anger, or maybe with something more exciting than that, but here came one of those waves of feeling, out of nowhere, sucking her under. She knew, now, that there was no resisting it. She took a breath, then another one, and told him. “Because I know I’m going to see Josie and Hugh, and maybe the boys, next week. I thought I’d see Josie today.” Her voice was shaking, even though she wished it wouldn’t. “I can’t hide from them. I can’t hide fromthis.And I thought—I need to come for Nyree, to be there for her like she was there for me. I know it’s not the same, because this weekend is for—for fun, but it’s not fun for me. Don’t you see? It’s not fun for me. Ithurts.”

She was crying, and she ignored it. “And I’m finishing school,” she said, “and going to University, and you’re so . . . so faraway.And I want to get married. I don’t want to leave home and leave you, too. I’m eighteen now. I want to get married.”

* * *