Page 14 of One Week With You
“Will you spend it with them?” I wasn’t sure why I asked. With the exception of one year, Rafe had spent every Christmas with our family since we’d met. He even had a stocking hanging above my parents’ fireplace. Whenever I thought of Christmas, Rafe was as much of a tradition and memory as everything else. Baking cookies, watchingIt’s a Wonderful LifeandHome Alone, wearing terrible Christmas jumpers and Rafe, almost smiling back at me across the table, beating me at board games, and letting me use his shoulder for my after-dinner snooze.
It would be hard not to have that this year, but I also wondered how many more years I could take being so close to the man and not in the ways I dreamed. I wanted him to hold my hand under the table and kiss me awake and never tell me goodbye.
My heart was weary. As the years passed, I waited on edge, certain Rafe would show up with a serious girlfriend and I’d have to watch him settle down and build a life – a family – with someone else. His happiness meant everything to me, but the thought was as brutal as a knife in my side.
“No,” Rafe said. “I think I’ll do the same as you. Spend Christmas alone.”
“You know you’re always welcome here, right? My parents love having you. We all do.”
“I know. But you’re not the only one who needs a break,” he said, heaving a weary sigh.
“Is everything okay?”
“Being the boss is exhausting sometimes, that’s all.”
There was more going on but Rafe only confided when he was good and ready, so I let my other questions slide. “I can only imagine. Are you sure you don’t need the cottage for yourself?”
“One hundred per cent. I want you to have what you want.”
He reached for my hand and I watched his thumb drift back and forth in a soft, unknowing caress, slowly meeting his eyes. Mere seconds, and there it was again. That attraction. Like a crackle in the air. So palpable, surely this was the moment we’d lean forward and our mouths would meet again, at long last… Until my mum walked into the kitchen carrying more dirty plates, and our connection shattered, too brittle to do anything else. Rafe shifted away, grabbing a wet saucepan from the rack and carrying on as if nothing had happened.
Same old, same old.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Rafe,” Mum said, sliding between us to dump the dishes by the sink. “You’re a guest.”
“But you cooked. And you’ve always told me I’m not a guest. That I’m family.”
Mum’s cheeks tinged pink. She’d blame the wine if asked. “Well, you’ve got me there. If you want to help, who am I to stop you?”
We made quick work after that, in silence, the way it always was after we’d shared another moment – an almost moment – thwarted for the thousandth time.
“So,” Rafe said once he’d tucked the last plate back in the cupboard. “I’ll pick you up on Friday?”
I nodded, exhilarated by the thought but also wary, wondering what I’d just exposed my heart to. “It’s a date.”
CHAPTER4
RAFE
I’m screwed.
From my car I watched Talia glide down the front steps of her building in those spiky heels she loved as much as I loved what they did to her ass. Tonight the ribbon ties matched her dress, winding her ankle the way I’d like to wind my fingers around her wrists. Maybe the strands of her hair as I tugged her head back to kiss her full, lush mouth.
I remembered that mouth…
“Fuck,” I whispered roughly, clutching the steering wheel in some semblance of calming the fuck down.
Too late for that.
She always looked good but tonight was something else. Her hair was half up, half down, loose waves brushing past some kind of wrap too thin to keep her shoulders warm. But that dress… As red as cherries, modest as it reached past her knees but utterly obscene in the way the silk slid like syrup down her curves. And Talia had those in abundance. I swore under my breath again.Get it together, Rafe. Just get it together.Eventually, I remembered my manners and jumped out of the car, charged with a lethal cocktail of adrenaline and nerves.Excitement.
I’d spent countless hours with this woman, knew the exact measure of her smile and the genuine sound of her laugh, that blue was her favourite colour and she never went a day without listening to music, all these minor everyday details that made up a person. But tonight was the first time it would be just the two of us since the night we’d kissed and I’d ruined everything. The shift felt monumental somehow.
I’d waited for this day even though I never thought I’d have another chance.
“Hi,” she said brightly, all glossy red lips and glittering eyes.
Definitely screwed.
