A Very Merry Christmas: WITH "Do You Hear What I Hear" AND "Bah Humbug, Ba (14 page)

One carol led into another, and as the night wore on, Lee stood closer, and she could feel his body warmth through their coats. She felt like they belonged, like she belonged, and she didn’t know whether to feel all fuzzy inside or run screaming for the nearest helicopter.

But then they were being pulled along by the crowd toward the open doors of the village hall. Bright yellow lights shone from inside. And the smell of hot cider wafted out to them as they waited their turn to file up the steps.

They stopped just inside the door and looked around. Pine boughs and ribbons hung from the rafters. A huge tree stood to one side of the stage and rose to the ceiling. At the other side, a dilapidated upright piano was pushed against the wall.

Allison felt Lee and her being gently nudged aside, as others entered behind them. And, sure enough, there were the expected
oohs
and
aahs,
and some of them were coming from her.

Children raced past to get a closer look at the tree. Allison’s throat constricted and she felt an uncomfortable urge to burst into tears. She took a deep breath and reminded herself it was all part of the setup. She had to admit it was a perfect place to bring the kiddies for Christmas. And she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Lee as a totally inappropriate thought popped into her mind. Only this one didn’t have to do with sex. But what the outcome of sex might be, at the right time, with the right person. And Allison’s biological clock started beating time with the “Little Drummer Boy.”

Fortunately the lights flickered at that moment changing her focus. Two slender women, wearing matching calf-length wool skirts and twin sets, stepped in front of the curtain. One stood at the side of the stage while the other took her place at the piano. A hush fell over the crowd and everyone turned to face the stage.

The lights dimmed until only those shining on the apron of the stage remained lit. A few tinny notes rose from the piano and the woman onstage began to recite, “And there were shepherds…” The heavy black curtain parted in a series of jerks and creaks.

Sure enough, four shepherds—each three feet tall, wearing striped robes and pieces of cloth tied around their heads with twine—stood side by side. Their crooks faced in different directions. One shepherd was picking his nose. The shepherd next to him smacked his hand. A titter ran through the audience.

“And suddenly a star…”

On cue, a glittery cardboard star swung out above their heads. It continued to swing back and forth until it settled off to one side. The shepherds pointed at it and began to walk toward it. The bottom of the nose-picker’s crook caught the third shepherd on the ankle and he tottered forward; but they all managed to stay upright until they got offstage and the Three Wise Men entered.

The Wise Men were a little older and better rehearsed and managed to follow the star without a hitch. There was a blackout onstage. And the sounds of shuffling and scraping in the dark. The piano music changed to “Away In A Manger.” The lights popped on to reveal a tableau of a little Mary and Joseph, a cradle with a doll in it, and the shepherds and Wise Men kneeling around them. Allison recognized the holy family as the children they’d met at the general store, Jen and Jamie. Even their puppy was there, stretched out by the cradle, representing the lowly oxen, no doubt.

The curtain closed, reversing the series of jerks and creaks, and applause and talking broke out. Hot cider was passed around.

Then, from outside, the sound of sleigh bells. All faces turned toward the side door, which swooshed open.

“I gotta get this,” said Lee and disappeared into the crowd. Allison pressed forward to see. Chris Olsen burst through the opening, ho-ho-hoing in a voice that resounded through the room. From everywhere, children squeezed past adults until they were sitting at his feet beneath the tree.

Half-dressed shepherds and Wise Men bounded through the opening in the curtain and jumped off the stage. Mary, Joseph and Spanky followed behind, and when Joseph took too long to jump, Mary gave him a shove, then jumped down after him.

Spanky ran back and forth across the stage until the pianist took pity on him and lifted him down to the floor. The puppy immediately headed for Santa, yipping and jumping at his black boots. Santa ho-hoed louder and began to pass out presents.

Allison could see Lee kneeling at Chris’s side, getting closeups of the children as Santa handed them their gifts. He looked as excited as the children.

This time she couldn’t stop the tears that blurred her vision. She mentally kicked herself for falling into that trap. Thinking of Lee as the Happy Daddy. Happy Daddy would probably never even be home for Christmas, would just send a card or make a quick call from Timbuktu. She surreptitiously wiped her eyes.

Hadn’t he left her stranded at the LA airport, just because she was two days late? It wasn’t like she did it on purpose. Everyone in her department had worked overtime that year. She’d left straight from the office and taken a cab to the airport after forty-eight hours without sleep. Drunk coffee during the entire flight and put on makeup in the airplane toilet, so she would look good when she arrived. Except that when she got there, there was only a note, left with the airline desk, saying he couldn’t wait. Or wouldn’t, was more like it. So, after all she had gone through, she spent Christmas alone at the Sheraton LAX. So much for a future together.

Finally the presents had all been handed out. Santa called out “Merry Christmas!” and took his leave.

Then Lee was by her side, smiling. She sniffed and turned away. The lights dimmed again. He slipped his arm around her and squeezed.

White candles with paper holders were passed to each person in the room. Two candles were lit. Those people turned to light the candle of the next two people. As each person’s candle was lit they turned to light another, over and over again until the room was filled with winking light.

The pianist began to play “Silent Night.” Group after group joined in singing until the carol joined the flames to fill the room.

Allison saw Chris Olsen, changed back into his overalls, slip quietly into the room and take a candle. Everywhere couples stood together, husbands and wives, parents and children, teenagers, old people, all singing like there was no tomorrow.

“Marry me.”

Allison stopped singing, stopped breathing. That was Lee’s voice. She must be hearing things, because she thought he said—she looked again. Lee was looking at her, horror on his face.

Holy shit. He had said what she thought he said. He’d been swept up in the spirit that was tangible around them. And now he was regretting it. Allison steeled herself and gave him what she hoped was an ironic look.

“I love people like you. A sucker for every marketing ploy. They should test Hallmark cards out on you.” She immediately regretted her words. He hadn’t done it on purpose to hurt her. It had just slipped out. She couldn’t blame him for falling for all the Christmas feel-good stuff. She knew how it worked. It was what she did for a living. This was the kind of response she was paid to achieve. Make people buy things against their will. And these people were good. Even she was succumbing to it.

Lee turned away and began looking everywhere but at her.

Allison gritted her teeth. Now they would have to sit out the rest of the week in total discomfort. She should have pretended she hadn’t heard him. But she’d been so shocked that she’d immediately started defending herself. Before he could take it back, or say he was kidding or pretend that wasn’t what he’d said to begin with.

She looked up and saw Chris Olsen standing in a group across the room. Their eyes met. He shook his head. Allison lowered her eyes. It was almost as if he’d heard their conversation and was disappointed. When she looked again, he was gone.

The revelers began to leave, carrying their candles out into the night. They dispersed through the darkness, calling out, “Merry Christmas!”—their voices growing quieter, quieter, until there was no sound at all, just the flicker of tiny lights as they returned to their homes.

Lee and Allison were quite alone. Walking back to their little chalet, like two strangers.

They didn’t talk, just stared at their own candles as if keeping them lit by sheer willpower. It was better than talking. Allison had no idea what to say. Better to act like nothing had happened. Give Lee the chance to breathe easy again.

When they reached the front steps, Lee blew out his candle and tossed it into the snow, then went to open the door. Allison snatched it up and slipped it into her pocket, then blew out her own candle and followed him inside.

Lee rummaged in the fridge, waiting to see what Ally would do. How she would react, if she reacted at all. He wasn’t hungry anymore, hadn’t been for the last half hour. What had possessed him to blurt out something like “Marry me,” in the midst of a crowd of strangers? Maybe he
was
possessed.

Yeah, by all that schmaltzy Christmas stuff, with the little kiddies and Santa and the cider.
Jesus. What had he been thinking? She was married to her family’s ad agency and he was married to his camera. It was pretty pitiful, but what were the choices? He couldn’t exactly picture them living…where? Denver? LA? He’d never want to raise a family in LA.

Family. Who said anything about family? It was that damn Christmas pageant.

He heard her come into the kitchen, pull out a chair. And he knew if he took his head out of the fridge, she would be watching him, accusing.

“Lee.”

“Hmmm,” he said. What would happen if he just climbed into the fridge and waited until she left the room? Suffocate, that’s what.

“It’s a fridge not an oven. You can’t take the easy way out.”

Oh, shit, confrontation time. Only this time after the blowup there would be no place to run. Maybe Chris had a spare bedroom at his house. He grabbed a jar of mustard and stood up.

Sure enough, she had that look, the one that pinned him like a hapless beetle. He swallowed. “You want a sandwich?”

Her eyes flashed. He braced himself. But she surprised him.

“No thanks.” She stood up and left the room. Leaving him holding the mustard instead of her.

She was going upstairs. He could see her feet through the open risers of the staircase. And he didn’t think she was hurrying up to get ready for him. Her feet were dragging, if that was possible. Certainly moving slower than he’d ever seen her move.

He wanted to go after her, to explain. But his feet were rooted to the linoleum. And explain what? He didn’t have a clue. If she would just stay and eat, things would blow over and they could get back to doing what they did best with each other.

He’d missed his chance. He heard the bedroom door open and shut—shutting him out. All because he’d blurted out that stupid marriage proposal.

Okay, so it wasn’t the most romantic way of doing the thing, but it wasn’t like he’d planned to say it. He ran his hand through his hair, realized he was clutching the mustard jar to him like it was his salvation. He quickly put it on the table and hurried after Allison.

He took the stairs two at a time. The bedroom door was locked. Perfect. What else could go wrong this week. This year. This lifetime.

He knocked softly on the door. “Ally?”

“Go away.”

Lee sighed, counted to ten. “Al, what’s going on?”

“You tell me.”

“If you’ll let me in, I will.” No, he wouldn’t. Jesus. He didn’t know what was going on. They couldn’t get married. They’d kill each other on their honeymoon. No, they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t have time to take a honeymoon. He’d have some urgent assignment, she’d have a major deal to broker. He must have been out of his mind. And yet…

The door opened, and Lee’s nerves began knocking around with gale-force intensity. He stepped inside. Ally stepped back, then crossed the room to look out the window. Her arms crossed in front of her. Her back to him. About as off-putting as she could make it. And it hit home.

He cautioned himself to keep his temper. After all, they were going to be stuck together for God knew how long. And, besides, said a niggling voice that he hated,
You started it. Either finish it, or finish this relationship for good.

Lee sighed. He thought he
had
finished this relationship. A year ago. Christmas, to the day. His head began to ache. The two of them were on a fucking treadmill. It was time to make a change. For better or worse.

He walked across the carpet, silently, but he could feel her shoulders tense as he came up behind her. He slipped his arms around her. No response. Okay. She was going to punish him for a while before she let him have it. He knew the drill.

But damn it. He didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve it, either. And Lee realized, for the first time, that he never thought about how she felt. Because he was always reacting to her. Maybe it was time they both learned to be more understanding and less demanding.

He tightened his arms around her, rubbed his cheek along her hair. “I meant it,” he said. “Before. What I said. Why don’t we get married?”

He felt a tremor go through her. Repulsed? Laughing? He took a long breath.
Stop second-guessing. Go with it.
“Look at me.” He tried to turn her around, but she wouldn’t budge. He slipped in front of her. Not the brightest move, since she could easily push him through the glass. He took her by the shoulders. “Look at me.”

Slowly she lifted her head. But just enough so that she could see him beneath lowered lids.

“Look at me, damn it.” He pushed up her chin and immediately drew back when he saw the look in her eyes. She was hurt, not angry.

Why couldn’t she just have a normal reaction to a proposal? Just say I do, or I don’t. It didn’t take a rocket scientist.

Stop it,
he warned himself again. They had to break this habit of fighting, if there was going to be any future between them.

He bent his head and kissed her lips. Lightly, gently, meaning to make the kiss an opening to some dispassionate, not argumentative, discussion. But, as always, it quickly ran out of his control. She kissed him back. Her lips and tongue shooting sparks through his bloodstream. His mind started on its own journey, not the one he’d planned.

Allison was responsive and he wanted her. Needed her. Now. He walked her backwards until they were standing at the bed.

His lips moved to her neck. “I meant it. What I said at the Revels.” He kissed her jaw, trailed his tongue up to her earlobe. Followed the curve of her ear. She shuddered and pressed against him.

“I know,” she said so softly that he almost missed it. She nudged his face away and licked across his mouth.

“Then what are we going to do about it?”

“This.” And she pushed him down on the bed.

Allison knew he meant it. Knew he loved her. Knew she loved him. And knew it would never work. It seemed the two of them were good only at making love, not committing to it.

“And this,” she said, slipping her hands beneath his sweatshirt to rub her palms along his stomach.

And who could blame them. Love was ephemeral. You couldn’t bank it. You couldn’t sign it. You could go to contract, but it was a contract more easily broken than the most insignificant business deal.

Lee leaned back and she explored him. She was looking for something. Wanted something. Oh, how she wanted something, and she didn’t think it was just his body.

Lee pulled her up beside him and threw his leg over hers. “I—”

Allison curled into him and covered his mouth with hers. The sentence died in an umph, and segued into a groan when Allison slipped her tongue past his teeth. Lee pushed her to her back, rolled on top of her and kissed her. She felt hot and ready and reprieved.

Lee’s weight was heavy on her, his cheek covered her nose as he deepened the kiss. She would have to come up for air before much longer, but she was afraid to stop kissing him because he might start talking again. And even though she knew he meant all the things he was going to say, she also remembered that good old quote by John Dryden. It had stuck with her through graduate school and internships and business negotiations. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

And she didn’t intend to…She sighed as Lee pulled his mouth from hers. Straddled her and spread his fingers over her shoulders. Then, deliberately he dragged them down her front, over her breasts, the rough skin of his fingers catching on the fine wool of her sweater.

She gripped his thighs. He squeezed them tighter around her. A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead. His eyes turned smoky with desire and he looked like everything she had ever wanted, but couldn’t have.

His fingers gripped her sweater and turtleneck and pulled them up her body. Pulled them over her shoulders and head, cutting off her view of him.

And when she could see him again, he wasn’t looking at her but at her breasts.

“Take off your clothes. I’ll be right back.” He swung a leg to the floor and pushed off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Allison asked bemusedly. Her mind was befuddled by desire and her thought processes had gone the way of foreplay.

“To the bathroom. And not for a cold shower.” He grinned in that way he had when nothing was bothering him. Which she saw only during sex and wondered if he ever showed it to someone else, when she wasn’t around.

Better not to know. She unsnapped her jeans and pulled them off. She tossed them on a nearby chair. Sent first one sock and then the other after them. Slid her underwear down her legs, rolled it into a ball, then threw it across the room.

It was floating to the carpet when Lee returned, wearing nothing but a pulsing hard-on and carrying two bottles of body oil. He stepped over her thong and placed the bottles on the bedside table.

He shrugged. “Might as well make use of these, since Marcie and Greg went to the trouble of buying them.”

“Wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings,” said Allison.

He reached for the one labeled Aphrodite’s Desire. There was a splash of red across the white plastic and a curl of smoky blue that wrapped itself around the bottle.

“If you say ‘good packaging,’ you’re toast.” Lee yanked the comforter off the bed and straddled her, holding the bottle open above her.

“Great packaging,” she answered, letting her gaze settle on his erection.

“Thank you,” he said, and squeezed a pinkish oil into his palm. “Turn over.”

“This isn’t going to be a mutual slide fest?” she asked, but turned over onto her stomach. She heard Lee chafing his hands together to warm the oil. Then felt his hands on her back. Sliding down her spine. And she let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure.

He picked up the bottle again, ran his hands back up the way they’d come, then said, “Oh, hell.” He picked up the bottle for the third time and Allison felt the trickle of oil at the base of her neck.

It was cold at first, but as he poured it down the ridge of her spine it grew warmer. And when it reached her butt, and Lee let a steady stream run between her cheeks and into her crotch, it burst into heat.

The air was permeated with the aroma of cinnamon and sex. Allison breathed it in but didn’t move, just enjoyed the feeling of the oil flowing over her and mixing with her own pooling heat. Then she wiggled her hips against the sheet, letting the oil farther into her crease.

She teased herself until she was close to the edge. “Oh, God.”

“Yes?” Lee dripped oil onto the back of her thighs. He shifted down her legs, poured oil onto her calves. Then he spread her legs and settled on his knees between them.

A frison of anticipation rushed through her. She lifted her butt to accommodate him.

He took her feet in his hands and began to massage them.

Allison groaned. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Just lie there and relax. Did you know that massaging feet lets off a huge amount of tension?”

“I’m not tense,” she said through gritted teeth. It felt incredible but instead of relaxing her, his foot massage was sending a message right to her crotch and it was getting tense as all hell.

“I think you better check your source,” grunted Allison as he hit a particularly sensitive spot on the sole of her foot.

“Honey,” said Lee, moving on to her calves, “you’re going to be loose as a goose when this is over.”

He poured more oil onto her thighs. It ran down the sides and tickled the inner flesh. Lee followed it with his fingers. She spread more for him.

But he flattened his palms on her cheeks and began kneading her glutes. “You’ve got a great butt,” he said hoarsely.

He was driving her crazy. Another two seconds of this and she’d be writhing around like a woman possessed. “You should see what’s waiting for you underneath.”

“I could come just looking at your butt.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He took the bottle from the table again. He moaned. “Oh, yeah, this is—”

Her eyes jerked open and she twisted her head so she could see what he was doing. He poured oil down his chest, catching it with his palm and rubbing it against his pecs, stopping only long enough to squeeze his nipples, and start again. His cock twitched at every touch. Slowly, he rubbed down his midsection, stuck his finger in his naval and gave her a lascivious smile.

Allison licked dry lips as his hands traveled lower. He spread the oil on his cock, over his groin, between his legs. He hissed through his teeth when his fingers cradled his balls. And all the time he was smiling at her.