Christmas is Cancelled

chapter Eight





“Dean?” Butterflies churned around Tilly’s stomach, but she had to ask or she’d go crazy. No more running away from difficult questions. It was now or never. Something in her tone must have alerted him to what was coming because he froze, not even breathing. “Why can’t we?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His nostrils flared, and his brows dived down into a V-shape frown. There was a war going on behind his eyes before he resorted to closing them, hiding their stormy dark gray depths. He tried again. “It’s complicated.”

“Why? We’re both grown adults, we like each other.” She rocked her hips backward along the length of him, and his body spasmed again. “I can tell you want me too.”

“I can’t, it’s not as simple as that,” he gasped.

She changed the angle of his hips slightly and started to slide forward. He was right where she wanted him, and boy, did she want him. “No one need ever know if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His eyes flew open, the storm still raging, and he gripped her hips, locking her in place. “I’d know,” he said, his voice deepening.

He was pressed right up against her, teasing her opening yet somehow remaining outside. She desperately needed to move, but he was back in control, leaving her trapped in no-man’s-land—or rather, infuriatingly-sexy-man’s-land—and she couldn’t move any closer if she wanted to, yet she couldn’t move away either. It was common knowledge that there was a fine line between love and hate, but it was an eye-opener to discover there was also a very fine line between raging lust and raging temper.

“Am I just a game to you, Dean?” Tilly shoved her hands into his chest to put as much space between them as possible.

“Pardon?”

“Is this just another way of teasing me, like the stupid nickname thing, just to get a rise out of me?”

“Jeez, no. Of course not.”

“Then what the hell is it? You blow hot and cold all the time. It’s bloody obvious you want me too, but you keep pushing me away.”

“It’s not as s—”

“Simple? Yeah, you said already.” Her face was flaming as rage burned her from the inside. She was bordering on shouting and would have flounced off if she could move. As it was, she couldn’t even fling her hair over her shoulder.

“Well, it’s true,” he blurted. “You’re right, I do want you. I’d be a fool to deny it. But there’s more to it than that.”

“So tell me why. Talk to me instead of driving me crazy.” She sucked in another breath and continued, “Christ, Dean, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, but even I can take a hint eventually.”

He tensed, his fingers biting into her hips. “What did you say?”

“Oh, that’s rich, deflecting the question yet again. Okay, have it your way.” Her heart was thundering so hard, she wondered if it was trying to escape and get to safety before it could be shattered completely. Too late. “You win. I give up. As soon as we get out of here, I’ll pack my things and g—”

“No Matilda, the other bit,” he interrupted.

Hearing her full name was like having a bucket of cold water poured over her. Tilly stopped mid-rant and blinked. His eyes were wide, searching her face for the answer. In her mind, she quickly replayed her last words, mumbling them aloud, “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember...” She gasped. Had she really said those words...out loud...not once but twice now? Shit!

“Yeah, that bit,” he said softly, his pupils shrinking to the size of pinpricks, whereas hers must be boggling out of her head.

“Forget it, I only said it in the heat of the moment,” she said, but all the fight had been sucked out of her, and she’d lost her snap. Her face and cheeks were still on fire, chasing the remaining bone-deep coldness away.

“Really?” He was watching her every move, with one eyebrow now perched halfway up his forehead, like he was sizing up how best to trap his prey. The tables had been truly turned, and she was no longer the hunter. “Then look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t mean it.”

Naturally, she looked away. It wasn’t easy to look beyond him at such close quarters, but she found a smudge on the opposite wall to fix her gaze on. It was just beyond his ear, half obscured by a lick of dark hair begging to be scooped behind. She needed time to rebuild her defenses and come up with something witty or snarky to say to get her off the hook.

“Look at me.” His voice was urgent, demanding, calmly delivering a verbal slap to her face and forcing her gaze back to meet his. “Did you mean it?”

She fought the urge to swallow, not wanting to show any kind of weakness, but she lost. Double shit! Her pulse was racing so fast it might as well have been one long beat, the living and breathing equivalent to flat-lining. What did she have to go and open her big mouth for?

This wasn’t just taking a risk, it was committing emotional suicide. And she couldn’t even run away. She was going to have to face the music, ready or not. If she lied and denied it, she’d never get another chance with Dean, the door would be closed forever, but if she told the truth and admitted it, things between them would never be the same again.

There was no way back from that kind of declaration, and she might lose him altogether. Then again, how could you lose someone you’d never had to begin with? It would be yet one more rejection to add to all the rest. Oh, to hell with it, she was screwed either way. She might as well crash and burn with the truth.

“I love you, Dean.” It was quite liberating really, a great burden being lifted off her shoulders after being there so long. “I’ve always loved you.”

He made a strange sound, a cross between a grunt and a whimper, and his body went rigid. His face was locked in a grimace, his eyes screwed tightly shut, and his mouth was nothing but a thin line, like he was in pain. She hadn’t meant to hurt him; maybe she should have lied after all.

Every cell in her body was screaming at her to run, to get away from him. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but his hands held firm, and she still couldn’t move. “I’m sorry,” she croaked, her throat parched.

His eyes snapped open to glare at her, his pupils so dilated they were almost black. “Don’t you ever apologize for that again. Never. Do you hear?”

“O-okay...” She couldn’t stop a tear from escaping. It tickled as it ran over the top of her nose and across the other cheek until he dipped his head to collect it on his lips, brushing her skin as gently as a feather. As if it were poison, his body began to tremble. Sinews popped out of his neck and shoulders. “Dean? What’s happening?”



***



Tilly was in love with him!

Dean couldn’t stop shaking. Those three magic words had shot down the last of his defenses that had held him off for so long. Every last drop of willpower had been swallowed up by that one solitary tear, and he didn’t have it in him to resist anymore. She was offering him everything he’d ever dared dream about.

Dean looked down at the beautiful woman lying naked against him and took his weight on his elbows to roll her onto her back, easing her legs farther apart. His heart and his honor clashed, waging one final epic battle that tore him apart. There was no going back. The war finally over, he threw back his head and roared, the sound reverberating off the walls. Tilly’s cry mingled with his as he drove deep inside her.

Fireworks exploded behind his eyes, but he saw her flash of pain. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Recoiling with horror, he tried to pull out, but she gripped his hips.

“No, please,” she gasped, her eyes wide. “Just give me a second...”

Dean hesitated; he’d be damned if he was going to hurt her again. Already he could tell her body was relaxing, stretching to fit him. Thank God. What the hell had he been thinking? They hadn’t even kissed yet. Something he ought to put right straight away.

A man on a mission, he let the tension ease out of his shoulders and slowly lowered his head, keeping his gaze locked on hers. Her lips parted of their own accord. They were as soft as silk, warm and yielding. She tasted exquisite, like an exotic food he couldn’t get enough of—she even had a plump bottom lip just begging to be nibbled.

Tilly whimpered and grabbed his head, knotting her fingers in his hair to hold him still so she could press her mouth against his and kiss him deeply. The timid darting sorties of her tongue sent shivers down his spine. It was no good, he needed to move. Holding still was getting harder by the second. As if she’d read his mind again, she bent her knees and bucked gently beneath him, letting him know she was ready.

More gently than before, he began to move again but couldn’t help checking for any sign of discomfort. She matched his tempo, lifting her hips in time to meet his, working together in harmony. A perfect fit. The sounds of her groans and whimpers urged him on, capturing every single one of them with his mouth, never breaking the kiss.

Tilly explored his body with her hands, every touch exquisite, his skin beyond sensitive from his head to his toes. Her tongue tangled with his as her body began to stiffen beneath him, so close now. She clawed at his body, and her grip tightened around him before pulsing as she found release. Beads of sweat ran down his chest as he built up the intensity again, but he wasn’t about to stop now.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and altered both the tempo and the angle until he almost lost control. Barely able to draw breath, he broke off the kiss to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin glowing, her hair splayed out behind her, and she had never looked more beautiful.

No longer trying to match his pace, she used her body to its full effect to tease and test him. Her daring smile told him she knew exactly what she was doing, and from the look in her eyes, she wasn’t planning on coming alone next time. Her soft moans urged him on even as his body demanded release.

“Come with me,” she pleaded. Her gaze bored into his, the green of her eyes had all but disappeared, swallowed up by desire. Something inside him snapped, causing his deep, penetrating strokes to give way to frenzied thrusts. and she began to tense up again. “Dean!”

Her scream overwhelmed his senses and rendered him utterly powerless. Her whole body quivered and shook, squeezing him hard as she came again. A primitive roar burst out of his throat, and he barely managed one final thrust before he erupted, buried deep inside the woman he loved.

Dizzy and weak, he collapsed on top of her, out of breath, her skin flaming hot and damp with perspiration. She shuddered in the wake of another aftershock, rippling and stroking him from the inside.

“Wow, that was intense,” she breathed, her words tickling his skin as they skipped over him.

“Yeah.”

“Is that...” She hesitated. “Normal for you?”

“Hell no.” His heart swelled, ready to burst out of his chest, and he hit her with a smile he usually only managed when he was drunk. Euphoric was probably a better description for how he was feeling.

“I didn’t know it could be like this.”

“No, me neither.” It was almost ironic that she had been the one to show him the difference between having sex and making love.

He planted a firm kiss on her lips, then rolled over onto his back, dragging her with him. There was no doubt about it, she belonged in is arms. He couldn’t bear to let go of her. She nestled into the crook of his arm, her milky skin pale against his tan and her brown hair strewn in all directions, some of it tangling with the hairs on his chest as she rested her head on it. Her legs still entwined with his, her body at such an angle that he could see the reddish curls that matched the roots of her hair, belying her true hair color.

A flicker of apprehension flitted over her face. “So what happens now?”

A pang of guilt cast a shadow over his newfound contentment, but he’d wasted far too much of his life because of Phil and a promise he should never have made. They could both go and take a running jump. His old life was mere black and white in comparison to the Technicolor world Tilly afforded him. There was no way he could go back. He didn’t want to go back.

“I don’t know.” He reached up to cradle her face, rubbing his thumb over her swollen bottom lip to stop her from gnawing on it. “But there’ll be no more holding back, I promise.”

“No more holding back,” she repeated to herself. Her answering smile lit up the entire room. “I like that.”

The sound of birdsong registered in his ears. “Hey, do you hear them?”

“Who?”

“The birds. It must have brightened up.” Tilly still looked at him blankly. “I think we can go home now. Hopefully our clothes will be dry by now too.”

“Okay, let’s go!” She climbed off him clumsily, reaching for her underwear, but he couldn’t move. His eyes were fixed on her, trained to follow her every movement, taking in every sensuous curve as if a bewitching spell had been cast over him. With one leg in her jeans and the other still exposed, she noticed his lack of movement. “Hey, are you okay?”

He nodded and swung his legs over the side of the bunk. “Come here you.” She threw him a puzzled glance but came willingly. He wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly, burying his head into her soft belly.

“Hey, what’s this for?” she said, her fingers teasing out the knots in his shoulders.

“Does there have to be a reason?”

“No, I guess not.” She sighed and hugged him back, “It’s nice.”

Nice? It was a million times better than “nice.” It was like coming home after a long spell in the wilderness. Light and hope now filled him, chasing away the darkness from his shattered soul. And Tilly was the key. How could he ever put into words the way she made him feel, the way she was healing him from within?

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said, inhaling deeply, taking more of her into his lungs.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.” Her eyes twinkled down at him, reminding him of their Christmas tree.

He dressed quickly and was ready first, thanks to her ridiculously tight jeans and her many layers of clothing, so he cleared out the fireplace, scattering the ashes outside. She was sorted by the time he returned, and they quickly tidied the lodge together, putting it back as they’d found it.

As he replaced the candles and matches, his hand nudged the visitor’s book, faltering as he started to close the drawer. He’d forgotten all about it. Tilly rested her hand on his arm and gestured to the open drawer with a tilt of her head.

“Do you need a few minutes?” she asked, her face showing nothing but understanding. “I don’t mind waiting outside. There’s some photos I want to take anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him tenderly. “But don’t take too long, I’m starving.”

“I won’t.” His own stomach rumbled at the mention of food.

“You know where to find me,” she said, her words laced with double meaning as she left through the open door without a backward glance.

He pulled out the book and perched the pen against his lip. It was the first time leaving his annual message had felt like a chore; it was usually the highlight of his Christmas. This time his heart just wasn’t in it.

Oh well, the sooner he got something written down, the sooner he could get back to her. The words flowed easily, and he was done in a matter of minutes, but even that was too long. He tossed the book and pen back in the drawer and strode out the door.

“That was quick. All done?” she called across to him the moment he appeared outside. His heart flipped as soon as he saw her, and he walked toward her with a new bounce in his step.



***



Tilly had kept a close eye on the lodge, nervous about which Dean would emerge. He looked happy enough as he walked over to join her, his gait relaxed, and his arms swinging easily by his sides.

“Yep.” A bright smile illuminated his face, his eyes showing no sign of the earlier shadows. “Let’s go home.” He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. Electricity zipped through her body at his touch, tingling all the way down her arm to where their hands were joined. Dean looked down at them with an arched eyebrow and then back at her. “Did you do that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I must have.” She had to fight the urge to laugh as they walked home. It was crazy how quickly her life had turned around. Yesterday she was down and out, but today she was on top of the world. Literally-ish. Or she had been anyway. They were almost back at the village now. She could see the church steeple to her right and remembered how the village looked sprawled below.

Dean’s house was right on the edge of the village, overlooking the hills he so loved. She sought it out, but a peculiar sight caught her eye instead. Her feet refused to move, rooted to the ground. He almost yanked her off her feet as he carried on, not realizing she’d stopped. Surely it couldn’t be...

“What’s wrong?” He took one look at her face, and his relaxed expression changed.

“This is going to sound ridiculous, but I swear that’s Phil’s car outside your house.”

Dean whipped his head around to look, squinting slightly, and then the color in his cheeks slowly drained away. “Shit.” He pulled her into his side as if trying to hide her. A chill crept over her despite being tucked into his side.

“What’s he doing here? How did he know?”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “It was me. I called him.”

“When?”

“This afternoon,” he said quietly, unable to meet her eye. “When I borrowed your phone.”

“Why?” She didn’t know the full machinations of what was going on between Dean and Phil. Regardless, she knew Phil turning up was not a good thing.

“I don’t know.” Dean clutched her hand tightly and threw up his free hand in exasperation. “I just left a message on his voice mail.”

“A message? What the hell did you say to make him drop everything and jump straight in his car and drive two-hundred-odd miles?” Her voice was getting higher and more agitated. “It’s Christmas Day. And something tells me Phil hasn’t torn up half of the country, breaking every speed limit possible, to come and share a tripple of sherry, then wish us both a happy Christmas before heading off on his merry way.”

“Nothing much, I just...” Dean’s shoulders deflated and he drew her into his arms, his heart beating wildly against her ear. “I’m sorry, I... I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Why? What’s going on, Dean?”

It took an age for him to speak. “Call it misguided honor and misplaced loyalty.”

“Honor? Loyalty?” Tears prickled behind her eyes. “What have they got to do with anything?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and his face grew more contorted. “About ten years ago, I made a promise. A very stupid promise.” He looked at her and gave an awkward shrug. “One I should never have made and then never should have kept.”

“About me?” Finally it was becoming clear—a bit too clear, in fact—her own brother had not only interfered with her life, he’d practically stopped her from having one. But it didn’t explain why Dean had gone along with it. “Why?”

He let out a strained laugh. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing for years.” She wasn’t going to let him off the hook easily. When she didn’t say anything, his resigned sigh was strong enough to ruffle the hair beneath her hat. “Phil can be pretty convincing when he wants to be.” Didn’t she know it. “He made me doubt myself, made me think you were much better off without me.

“It damn near killed me when you left.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “But then you showed up again, challenging me... I was too weak to keep pushing you away.”

“So you called Phil for what? Reinforcements?”

Dean at least had the grace to look ashamed. “Resisting you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“But then you went and screwed me anyway?” Her words hit him hard, sending a tremor through him so strong she could feel it too.

“No, I didn’t, I made love to you...” He stooped down to her level and cupped her face in his hands, his eyes looking earnest and beseeching hers. “And I wish I’d done it years ago. I got my priorities all wrong, I see that now. What could possibly be more honorable than being intimate, being connected to the woman I love?”

Love? Her stomach flipped at his words.

“And that’s exactly what I’ll tell Phil.”

“Oh, Dean...” His lips captured hers in a devastating kiss, demanding, possessive, needy.

“You’ll tell me what?” A deep, booming voice carried to them on the wind. “And for f*ck’s sake, put her down.”