December 8
Christie pulled the sash tighter on her bathrobe as she watched Luke button up his now slightly wrinkled shirt. She stretched and smiled to herself as she felt a soreness in her thigh muscles, a stiffness around her hips. Between her legs, she tingled and throbbed exquisitely, her delicate flesh tender. Luke had spent the night, and after that first explosive encounter, they’d made love twice more, and then once again this morning. She’d fallen asleep in his arms, tucked into him, and as she’d watched the snow fall in the pale light of the street lamp outside her bedroom window, she’d known that just like the snowflakes falling outside, she was drifting down, hoping that Luke would catch her.
“You’ll call me?” she asked, raking a hand through her hair.
His head swiveled up from his buttons, a crooked smile emphasizing his right dimple. “Of course.”
“Good.” She pressed her fingertips to her lips, preventing herself from saying anything else. The last thing she needed was to send him running by acting clingier than Saran Wrap.
He sat down on the bed beside her, now fully dressed, and pressed one large, warm palm to her cheek. “Christie, last night was . . . it was incredible. Things happened fast, but it’s been a long time since I’ve felt about anyone the way I feel about you.”
Her heart thumped in her chest at the happiness she saw shining in his eyes. She didn’t doubt for a second that he meant what he said. “I really like you, Luke.” She rubbed her face into his palm, and despite her soreness, a throb pulsed between her legs.
“And I really like you, Christie.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers, a soft, gentle kiss. “Are you busy tonight?”
She shot him a rueful smile. “I have an afternoon shift at the hospital. One of the other pediatricians is away, so things will be a little hectic for the next couple of days. But I’ll text you as soon as I know when I’ll be free.”
He kissed her forehead. “You better.”
“Are you sure you have to go?” Oh, yeah. She was doing just great at not clinging.
He pressed his forehead against hers, weaving his hands into her hair. “You have no idea how badly I want to stay and lose myself in you again. But I have a job booked for this morning and I need to run home and change.”
She nodded and followed him to the front door, watching him slip into his coat, his keys jingling in his hand. He sent her a knee-weakening smile, and then stepped through the door, striding toward his snow-dusted truck in the driveway.
She turned back to the kitchen, not quite knowing what to do with herself. Not quite knowing what to do with the jumble of emotions spilling through her, churning her stomach. She turned on the coffee maker, and then sat down at the kitchen table, watching the morning sunshine glint against the new-fallen snow, winking like diamonds in the bright light. She shook her head, and a long, smoky tendril of fear and disappointment wound its way around her heart. Of course, she knew she needed to tell him about the pictures, about Brian, everything. It was just a matter of finding the right time, the right way. The way that wouldn’t make him look at her like she was some kind of shameful liar. The way that would somehow convince him she was good enough for him. For Ethan. Because, God, she wanted them both.
A sharp rap on her door startled her out of her thoughts. Clutching her robe around her, she opened it to find Luke standing on her porch, his truck cleared of snow, but still sitting in her driveway.
“I forgot something.”
She frowned, looking around. “You did?”
His large hands cupped her face and he kissed her, his mouth hot and tender on hers. Immediately, her arms circled him, pulling him close. Despite the ache between her legs, she wanted him again. Needed him again. Right now. It was as though she was completely addicted to him. His touch, his mouth, his gorgeous body. His laugh. His smile. Every part of him. Luke.
He broke the kiss, but kept his mouth in contact with hers as he kicked the door closed behind him. His hands moved to the sash of her robe, and he tugged it open. The cold air that had followed him in caressed her bare skin, goose bumps erupting where it touched her.
“I’m going to saw my hand off if I go to work like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” He took one of her hands and guided it to the front of his pants. Oh, God. He was so mouthwateringly hard that she might’ve actually drooled a little. Her hands already moving to his belt buckle, he backed her against the wall.
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” She tugged his pants down and his cock sprang free. Luke cupped her ass and lifted her, pinning her between his hard body and the wall, his face already buried in her neck. She fumbled for the condom in the pocket of her robe, and he slid against her, his breathing already rough. Or maybe that was her. She couldn’t tell, didn’t care. She managed to roll the condom down his length and gasped as he thrust into her, his mouth crashing into hers. She’d never been taken against a wall like this, and damn if it wasn’t the hottest sex she’d ever had.
She could’ve sworn the air shimmered around her as Luke moved inside her, hitting the perfect angle and sending tingling sparks dancing over her skin. She gripped his waist with her legs, dissolving into him. He kissed her as though he were a starving man and she was the first sustenance he’d had in days. He stroked in and out in a sure rhythm, his tongue mirroring the thrust of his hips.
“Jesus, Christie. How is it that I’m inside you and it’s still not enough?”
She moaned as he adjusted his grip on her, deepening the angle. “I know,” she managed to gasp out, not able to find the words she needed to tell him that she wanted to crawl into him, to meld with him to make something shiny and new and beautiful. He stilled and kissed her again, his mouth lingering on hers.
“I don’t want it to end,” he whispered, and buried his face in her neck, kissing and nipping along her heated skin. She threaded her fingers through his hair as the moment expanded around them, time slowing and wrapping them in a cocoon, soft and warm. Her heart felt as though someone had poured honey all over it, all sticky and sweet.
“Me neither.” The last syllable came out on a shaky moan as he thrust again and then rearranged his grip so that she was propped up with one impressive forearm. His other hand dropped down to where they were joined, and he slicked a thumb over her swollen clit. Her back arched off the wall as Luke coaxed pleasure from her with his body.
She fell apart in his arms, trusting him to hold her up until she came back together, and he followed her over the edge, moaning her name as he came.
* * *
Once, Ethan had asked if his mother was dead, if that was the reason she never contacted him. Luke’s heart had ached for his little man, for the rejection he still struggled to understand. Even worse, a tiny part of him wished it were true. He knew it made him a terrible person for even thinking it, but if she had died, it would almost be easier.
Truth be told, Luke had been more excited about Angela’s surprise pregnancy than she’d been. He refused to think of it as an accident, even though that’s pretty much what it was. She’d forgotten a pill or two and had found herself peeing on a stick a few weeks later. They’d been dating for almost a year, and even though things were serious enough between them, they hadn’t really had the kids talk. Christ, they’d barely talked about getting married, and then boom. She was pregnant. Not keeping the baby hadn’t even crossed Luke’s mind, but he’d found out years later that it had crossed Angela’s. He’d been too busy buying a diamond ring to think about what Angela might really be feeling and thinking about having an unexpected baby at twenty-two. Hell, he’d barely been twenty-five himself. Not too young, but not exactly ready, either. They’d had a small, quiet wedding, and six months later, Ethan had come screaming into the world. Looking back on it all now, Luke could see how scared and unhappy Angela had been, even on their wedding day, but he’d been too caught up in everything happening in their lives to slow down and look at a truth he didn’t want to see.
She’d left not long after Ethan’s third birthday. She’d been increasingly distant and disconnected from both Luke and Ethan. He’d known things weren’t good, but he hadn’t really known what to do about it. He loved Ethan more than life itself, but by then, he’d realized that he wasn’t in love with Angela. One snowy afternoon, Ethan’s preschool had called Luke, saying that Angela hadn’t come to pick up Ethan. Luke had gone to get him, and when they got home, she was gone. She’d left a note taped to the fridge, four words that had sent everything into a tailspin.
I’m sorry. I can’t.
She’d taken all of her stuff, her car, and most of their savings, only emailing weeks later from California. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, the simple truth was that Angela was a deeply selfish woman who had no interest in being a mother.
Once, there’d been bitterness and anger and resentment when he thought about Angela, but all of that had burned itself out long ago. Nowadays, he only heard from her sporadically, the occasional email here and there. She never asked about Ethan, and Luke didn’t tell him about the emails. He didn’t need to know that she never asked about him, despite the photos and updates he sent her on a semi-annual basis.
“Are you in love with Dr. Harmon?” Ethan asked around a mouthful of lasagna.
Luke sputtered on his water. “Where would you get an idea like that?”
“Because you had a date with her last night and now you’re really happy. Did you ask her to be your girlfriend?”
“Eat your supper.” Luke shoved a forkful of lasagna into his own mouth. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of, precisely why he didn’t date. If Ethan got attached to someone who Luke brought into their lives and it didn’t work out, he didn’t know how he’d cope with the guilt of forcing Ethan to endure another rejection.
Undeterred, Ethan continued. “Is she going to be my step-mom? That would be cool. Jason Winchester has a step-mom, and she’s really nice.”
“You’re getting way ahead of yourself, dude. It was one date.” Despite his words, Luke’s heart thundered in his chest. Suddenly the image of Christie walking toward him in a beautiful white dress, smiling at him like he was the only man in the world, had taken hold and didn’t seem to be letting go. Just like everything else about her. His stomach flipped over, and he wasn’t sure if it was in fear or joy. Was there a name for when those two met?
Love?
No. No way. It was way too fast, way too soon. He liked her, sure. Really liked her. Thought about her constantly. Something new was taking root, pushing out the fear and hesitation he usually felt when it came to getting involved with a woman and replacing it with a cautious kind of happiness. An excitement that was both terrifying and exhilarating. But that didn’t mean he was falling for her, did it?
“I can tell when she texts you.” Ethan raised an eyebrow, giving his dad a “you’re so busted” look.
“Oh yeah?” Luke’s stomach clenched.
“Yep. You get all happy, like you just got a cool new toy.”
Luke didn’t respond, shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth and then putting more greens on Ethan’s plate. “Do you have homework tonight?” he finally asked, but Ethan ignored him and plowed ahead.
“Can we hang out with her? All three of us?”
An icy bolt of fear coursed through his veins, stealing his breath and freezing his muscles. It was a terrible idea. It really was. And yet at the same time, it filled him with an excited hope. The air returned to his lungs and his chest felt tight and full as he thought about the three of them, together.
“I don’t know, she’s pretty busy right now. Maybe in the future.”
“Maybe always means no.”
A fresh wave of parental guilt crashed into him. “Tell you what. I’ll talk to her and see if she’s up for it. But doctors work a lot, so she might be busy, okay?”
Ethan’s face lit up. “Okay. Uncle Matt said I should ask her what her intentions are. What does that mean?”
Luke opened and closed his mouth, not quite sure where to start with that one. “When did you see Uncle Matt?”
“At Nana and Grandpa’s. He was on his break and he brought hot chocolate.”
“That was nice of him,” said Luke, already thinking of all the different ways he could thank his brother for this awkward little conversation. His parents, too, given that they’d clearly told Matt the reason they were babysitting Ethan.
“Yeah. So what are intentions?”
“You know, I’m not sure. Uncle Matt’s a bit slow sometimes.” Luke leaned forward conspiratorially, as if he were letting Ethan in on a big secret. “He doesn’t even know where babies come from.”
Ethan’s mouth fell open. “Even I know that! Jeez.”
“Well, next time you see him, maybe you should tell him.” Luke nodded solemnly, and Ethan mimicked the gesture.
“Okay. I will. I’m gonna go watch The Grinch.” Ethan began to slide out of his chair, and Luke cleared his throat.
“Homework first. And if you don’t have homework, then you need to read at least ten pages in your book before TV.”
Ethan grumbled as he trudged into the front hall to retrieve his backpack. Luke stood from the table and gathered their dishes, chuckling as he rinsed them and stacked them in the dishwasher. If Matt wanted to butt in, he’d have to pay the consequences in the form of a birds-and-the-bees talk from his eight-year-old nephew.
If that didn’t teach him to mind his own business, Luke didn’t know what would.