Page 7 of Second Chance Christmas

Audrey was fast asleep,her dear face angelic and oh so beautiful. All Cassidy could do was look at her and wonder how she could possibly have made such a creature. For all that she had come to hate Grant and bitterly resent their marriage, she would always be grateful for Audrey. In the darkest days of their marriage, Audrey had been a reason to keep going. Now, Audrey was a reason for hope.

Cassidy leaned down, pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, then moved back towards the door.

The breathing space had been necessary, and when Cassidy returned to the dining room, plum pudding had been served and Cassidy felt capable of sitting down and eating it, entering into conversation. She’d had a lot of experience putting on a brave face at social events, after all. How many times had Grant insisted they go to a fundraising event or dinner at some MP or other’s house, and Cassidy had needed to put aside whatever she was feeling, get dressed up and smile her way through hours of small talk? She was usually very adept at faking it, but tonight, in her father’s home, sitting opposite Leo, it was a far more difficult task.

When the pudding bowls were emptied, Leo stood to clear the table once more, and Cassidy’s eyes were drawn to his long, capable fingers, the way he held the stack of bowls with those same fingers splayed wide, to encompass the full stack.

Cassidy’s mouth was dry. Her eyes lifted slowly to his, skating past lips that made her heart race. He turned and left the room. Cassidy tried not to follow immediately, but something was drawing her to him, something inexplicable and frustrating. “I’ll go see if Leonardo needs a hand,” she said quietly, keeping her expression neutral. Her father was too involved in conversation, and enjoying a rich glass of port, to respond.

She stepped into the room and earned a sidelong glance from Leonardo, an expression that gave nothing away. Her heart sped up.

“Leonardo, about before,” she murmured, because she wasn’t particularly sure what she wanted to say.

“It was bound to happen,” he said, not looking at her.

“Was it?” She moved closer, propping her hip against the edge of the kitchen bench.

“It was always like that with us.” He put the last of the bowls in the dishwasher then closed it, leaning over the sink to wash and dry his hands. He turned to face her, keeping a safe distance this time.

“Not always,” she said with a lift of one shoulder. “For a long time, we were just friends.”

He moved closer then, and her heart leaped into her throat. “When we were kids, we were friends. The second we grew up, could you look at me without wanting more?”

Her lips parted, the question surprising and revealing, and deeply troubling, because he was right. At some point, it was as though a switch had been flicked and her good friend from across the street became the embodiment of all her dreams.

“We’re not kids anymore.”

“No, we’re both consenting adults. But I shouldn’t have presumed that meant you wanted me to kiss you. There’s been a lot of water under the bridge since then, for both of us.”

She dug her teeth into her lower lip. “You can say that again.” Cassidy reached for her wedding ring to twist it—a nervous gesture—but she no longer wore the ring, and she touched her bare finger instead. “The thing is,” she started, haltingly. “I wasn’t…I didn’t cry because…I didn’t not like it, Leonardo.”

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

“I wasn’t crying because of you.”

“No,” he said, lips tugging slightly to the side in a half-smile, half-grimace. “You cried because it’s your first Christmas since the divorce and you probably still have feelings for your ex-husband. I had no right to touch you.”

She flinched at that. Feelings towards Grant? Her eyes flickered shut as she sucked in a deep breath. Leonardo was being so reasonable, so apologetic, that Cassidy realized he would never kiss her again unless she said just the right thing now.

And she wanted him to kiss her.

God, she needed that.

To be stirred back to life, as only Leonardo seemed capable of doing.

She hated him. She could never trust him, or like him, but she did still desire him. She wanted to feel what he’d made her feel, once upon a time. Suddenly, it seemed like the perfect balm, the best way to bring herself back to life after the damage Grant had wrought.

“That’s not it,” she said, searching for words. How to explain the wasteland that her love life had been? The way she’d come to fear her husband’s touch, his kisses… “My marriage—,” she broke off at the look of cold frustration in Leonardo’s face. “It was unhappy for a long time, before…before our divorce. I haven’t been kissed like that in…well…it just felt…” she dropped her gaze, embarrassed by the admission. From the other room, the sound of Christmas Carols started up, and the assembled group began to sing loudly, merrily.

All Cassidy could hear though was the fast-racing of her heart.

Leonardo, without her realizing it, had stepped forward, and now he pressed a finger beneath her chin, lifting her face so her eyes met his.

“Are you saying you want me to kiss you again?” He asked, eyes hooded, so she couldn’t interpret how he felt.

Her tongue felt too big and heavy to move, let alone speak, so she nodded, her eyes loaded with uncertainty and doubts.

Leonardo expelled a breath. Of relief? Then, he was dropping his head lower. Cassidy’s heart thumped hard against her ribs, but she lifted a hand to his chest, needing to be completely honest with him before anything else happened.

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