Page 81 of The Christmas Tree Farm
Kira was on her knees now, examining the other boxes for more letters. ‘She couldn’t have just left him hanging. All his thoughts and feelings just flapping in the breeze. I mean, he loved her. Look at how he loved her. And he must have been so lonely … out there thinking of her…’ Her voice cracked.
‘Kira…’
She kept looking, opening box after box. ‘They must be here somewhere.’
‘Kira…’
‘I’m sure they’re here.’
‘Peaches.’
Her gaze snapped to his. ‘What?’
‘I found one.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘You did?’
She crawled back to the letters still scattered on the floor and he handed her the one letter he could see with Edwin’s name and platoon number on it.
‘Dear Eddie,’ she read, spreading the letter out on her lap. ‘Your letters never fail to make me blush. I had to start reading them in private, because my sisters are always trying to read over my shoulder. But I don’t regret anything we did before you left and I’m happy the memories are keeping you warm while you’re gone. Please come back to me.’ Kira’s voice cracked on that line and she sniffed a little but kept going. ‘You’re the only boy for me. I miss you. All my love, Ellen.’
She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes.
‘I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Peaches,’ he teased, his voice soft.
She huffed. ‘I hide it well.’
‘I think it’s safe to assume Eddie didn’t kill Ellen.’
‘Definitely not.’
He crawled closer, leaning over the pile of love letters from Edwin to his beautiful wife. Kira lifted her face to him and he brushed his lips across her cheek. She sighed and his mouth found hers. Warm and soft and welcoming. A side of her no one else saw.
He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers, and when her gaze met his, the force of his desire hit him hard in the gut. Not just desire for her body, although that was back, too, but God, how he wished he could be the one for her.
‘Let’s go back downstairs. You’re freezing,’ he said, her practical needs the only thing he could care for right now. She let him pull her up after they carefully returned the letters to their box.
He carried the Christmas ornaments downstairs and led Kira back to the living room. He stoked the fire. He silently undressed first himself and then her, tossing their dusty clothes aside. He wrapped her in blankets and the warmth of his skin.
He kissed the fresh tears from her cheeks.
‘Ben?’
‘Yeah?’ he whispered as he dragged his lips across her throat. She trembled in his arms.
‘I’m glad you’re here.’ And he could hear the loneliness in her voice and he wanted to banish it forever.
Dangerous thoughts for a man who had to leave in two weeks.
‘Me, too.’
She reached between them and guided him to her and he eased into her wet heat again, even though she must be sore and so was he but they were running out of time and there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be.
He pushed deeper and she gasped, her fingers in his hair, her ankles digging into his back.
‘Yes,’ she whispered. Andplease, anddon’t stop, andBen, andyes, yes, yes. And he felt her tighten around him, the quickness of her pleasure surprising them both but she clung to him as it crested.
And then he found his, too, buried deep, his face pressed against the pulse rapidly beating against her throat. And for that brief moment she was his, and everything made sense.
