Читать книгу Christmas At The Café: Christmas at the Gingerbread Café / Chocolate Dreams at the Gingerbread Cafe / Christmas Wedding at the Gingerbread Café / Wish Upon a Christmas Cake - Rebecca Raisin, Darcie Boleyn - Страница 19

Muted light peeks through the blinds the next morning, and I lazily arch my back. I feel drowsy as a cat, on account of getting no sleep. Damon’s beside me, curled around the flannelette sheets. I ease out of bed and head for the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash. The girl in the mirror looks flushed, radiant.

While I’m scrubbing the vestiges of the gloop from my face, I hear Damon wake. He pads around the room looking for his clothes. I stifle a giggle as I remember that they’re somewhere near the front door. So, things kind of moved quickly after the carols last night. My ears burn, and I know the town folk are talking about us already.

I’ll say he simply came back here for a glass of wine, and that was it. Being Christmas morning, there’s more chance he can sneak out without anyone knowing he stayed over. Dizziness grips me when I think of Damon naked. That man’s a fine specimen of the human form, and I just couldn’t say no. Anyone would have done the same.

“Lil?”

I wander back into the bedroom. There he is, all propped up on the bed, shirtless, and pantless by the look of the bulge under the sheet.

“Good morning,” I say, walking back into the room with only a towel on.

“I got you another present.” He winks and pats the bed.

“Oh, yeah? Didn’t you give me that a number of times last night?”

“That was only practice. And today is actually Christmas Day, so I’m going to need to start all over again.”

I drop the towel and walk to the bed. He whistles appreciatively as I join him under the sheet.

My phone rings, the old cordless lost somewhere deep inside the house. “That’ll be CeeCee inviting us to her place for Christmas dinner. You think you can drag yourself out of bed for some food?” I say snuggling into the warmth of his embrace, wishing the phone would stop so I could stay here. “If CeeCee’s cooking, then yeah.” I throw a pillow at him as I go to fetch the phone.

As I scramble past the lounge I pick up an old throw rug and wrap it around myself. The phone continues to ring, and I find it on the kitchen bench.

“We’re coming, Cee. Give me—”

“It’s not Cee.”

I nearly faint, when I hear him speak. After all this time, my heart lifts, and I will it not to.

“What is it you want, Joel?” Can’t imagine he’s ringing to wish me a Merry Christmas. We haven’t spoken since he left, and that wasn’t because I didn’t try. But a girl’s got pride, and when he ignored my calls, my pleading texts, I stopped. Waiting for a reply, for any word, was devastating when I was met with silence.

“How are you, Lil?” He sounds off, as if he’s forcing himself to sound chipper.

“I’m great, Joel. What can I do for you?” I’m aware of Damon not ten feet away, naked and waiting. It seems wrong to leave him there, and wrong to have him there.

“I miss you.”

I shake my head. Of all the times for him to call; if he’d called yesterday, things would have been markedly different.

“Oh, yeah? And what does your redhead have to say about that?”

“That’s all over. Has been for a while now. I’ve spent this Christmas break mulling it over, and I know I made a mistake. A huge mistake.”

A movement behind startles me. Damon’s searching the floor for his clothes. He pulls his jeans on, and raises his eyebrows at me.

“Now’s not a good time, Joel. I’m going to have to talk to you later.”

Damon motions to the door. He looks bewildered, and I realize he must know who Joel is. I hold my hand up, so he knows to wait.

“Can I call you back? In the morning?” Joel says, his voice beseeching.

“I don’t know about that. You take care now.” I hang up the phone, and place it back on the counter.

“I’m gonna go,” Damon says, a hurt look plastered on his face.

“Wait, why? I thought we were going to CeeCee’s.”

He stares at me for a length of time, waiting for me to speak. I haven’t told him about Joel, but figure in this small town of ours he probably already knows.

“Was that your husband?” he asks, his voice breaking.

“Ex-husband.”

“Sounds like you got some unfinished business there, Lil.”

My eyes averted, I spin the phone, and desperately try to think.

“Please, Damon. Let’s go to Cee’s and enjoy the night.”

He searches under the lounge for his sweater. He finds his boots and stuffs them on.

I shiver, cold despite the rug wrapped around me. He walks over, and holds me tight. We stay squeezed together for an age. Lightly, he kisses the top of my head, cups my face and stares into my eyes. “Lil, I’m going to give you some space to decide what you want. I know all about Joel. Rosaleen told me.” He has the grace to blush. “So no pressure, OK? You need to do what’s right for you. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

His heartfelt plea breaks me. Tears spill as I watch him walk away. He’s right, and that’s what hurts most of all.

The phone rings again, and I let it go to the message bank. I don’t want to talk to Joel again until I’ve decided how I feel. I head to the shower. I’ll go to CeeCee’s. Being in the bosom of her happy family will be just the distraction I need. Being alone is too much right now, especially with the scent of Damon still on my skin.