Modern Girl's Guide to Friends With Benefits (10 page)

After Megan hung up, Peter couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He had called hoping to get some indication that the night in Vail hadn't ruined their friendship, so he should have been relieved after getting off the phone with her. She'd acted perfectly normal, and that was the problem. Maybe it was his caveman brain, but it pissed him off that Megan was acting like the whole hot sex on the sofa never happened.

He should have insisted on dinner or at least a coffee. They needed to talk, and the last thing he wanted was for things to be awkward between them during Christmas dinner with his family. If his mom didn't pick up on it, one of his sisters sure would, and they wouldn't let it go.

Peter thought about calling her, but each time he stopped himself. She would be spending Christmas Eve with her father, and while Meg might be grateful for the interruption, they needed to have this conversation in private. So he'd just have to wait until he saw her on Monday.

When he pulled up to his parents' house to see her impractical sports car sitting in the driveway, Peter relaxed a little. The evening might be awkward, but at least he didn't have to drive across town and fetch her. He collected the mound of presents stacked in the back of his SUV and headed inside.

Despite his father's success, his parents refused to buy a new house. Instead, they kept the cramped five-bedroom ranch he'd grown up in. The seventies architecture and signs of wear made the little house look dated, but he was glad they still lived here. There were a lot of memories packed inside. Coming home was always the best part of the holidays. The small suburban house not only reminded him of his roots, but there was nothing like the sense of belonging you got walking into the loving home you grew up in.

The first thing that hit him when he entered was the spicy smell of his Mamá's tamales. The next thing was sixty pounds of pink taffeta with sticky fingers.

"Uncle Peter. Mom says we can't open presents until after dinner. We've been waiting all day. It's unfair," Rose said with all the dramatics of a burgeoning tween girl.

"Unfair," Jennifer, her five-year-old sister, parroted in agreement. She was wrapped around his leg, eyeing the presents.

"But those are your presents. We could open those if you said it was okay, right?" Jennifer asked, pulling out the puppy dog eyes and batting her eyelashes like a pro.

His oldest sister Lucy was in for it with this one. Only eleven, she was already a charmer and Rose was right behind her. "Why don't you buy that game you were telling me about?" he said and slipped the girls an Xbox gift card. "But if you tell your mom you got that from me, I'll deny it."

The girls squealed and ran down to the basement where the game system was set up.

"I saw that," Lucy said from the other side of the living room. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell Mamá. The 'no presents until after dinner' was always her thing."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I just got here."

At forty, Lucy was a stunning woman. Tall and slightly curvier after the kids, she maintained the looks that had gotten him into a number of fights. Being the only brother, he'd felt honor-bound to defend her reputation from the assholes that she had always dated. Lucy had been the wild one of the bunch. Because of her, the rest of them grew up in virtual lockdown. But with age, and finding a real standup guy, Lucy had finally matured.

"Uncle Peter is the best. Isn't he, Jennifer?" Rose's voice echoed up the stairs, and Peter smiled. Payback was going to be a bitch for her.

Lucy took the presents from him, frowning, and shook her head in the universal sign of motherly disapproval. They must teach that in the maternity ward or something because Lucy had it down pat. Peter put his jacket in the closet and joined her in the living room. "Where's everyone?"

"Tom's downstairs, supposedly supervising the kids. Anne and Mary are helping in the kitchen, and Jesse is late as usual."

"And Meg? I saw her car in the driveway," he added quickly.

"Megan is in the kitchen, too."

"I'll just pop in and say hi. Meg left something at my house the other night and I promised her I'd bring it today." While not the smoothest of segues, it was a good enough excuse to head straight to the kitchen without having to make the rounds.

The small kitchen was about twenty degrees warmer than the rest of the house. The spicy smell of peppers filled his nose, and memories of the hours he'd spent with his mom came rushing back.

His mom had insisted all her kids would know how to cook. And despite not being nearly as good as his sisters in the kitchen, he could make a few of her classic dishes. Like the chile rellenos Meg was pulling out of the oven.

The busy sounds of cooking masked his arrival, so he watched, unobserved. She was happily working alongside his family, as though she'd done it all her life. Meg was at home in his mother's kitchen, even though he knew from painful experience she couldn't cook to save her life. Anna said something, and she laughed, the smile lighting up her whole face.

"Please tell me she didn't make those," Jesse said from behind him.

Megan swung around, nearly dumping the peppers to the floor. "Crap, you scared me half to death." Transferring the heavy dish to one hand, she pointed at Jesse, ignoring Peter completely. "If I drop this, it will be your fault."

"Give me that." His mother whipped a towel from her apron and took the hot pan from Meg. "No accidents this year, mamita."

"I was being careful, Maria," Meg protested.

Mamá tsked and shook her head. "The kitchen is crowded. Now that Jesse's here, maybe you should leave the rest of the dinner to us. You and Peter can take the food to the table."

"I drop one plate of food years ago," Meg muttered under her breath and took off her apron. The gaudy Christmas sweater she wore was dotted with a string of lights blinking red and green. "Well, you heard the woman." She shoved a nearby plate piled high with tamales at Peter and walked past, slapping his ass on the way. "Let's get this stuff to the table."

He stood there, still unsure of how to act around her.
Fuck.
This strange relationship no-man's-land was killing him. And the fact Meg seemed so able to just pretend that night in Vail never happened was pushing all his primal male buttons. He had this insatiable urge to push her up against the wall and kiss her until she couldn't breathe. He wanted to see those whiskey-colored eyes hooded and filled with lust again. He wanted—

"Go on," Mamá said, disturbing his train of thought, and shooed him out the door. This was going to be an uncomfortable family gathering.

With plate in hand, he followed Meg to the dining room. His sisters had finished setting the table, and they had the room to themselves. Meg was humming a Christmas tune and started filling the water glasses.

Setting the plate down, Peter moved to the back of the room so they could talk without being overheard. "Meg, we haven't had the chance to talk since…well, since Vail. I really didn't want to have this conversation here, but…" He looked over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone. "We need to talk about it."

"Oh, my God, Peter. I'm not some fragile flower. So you didn't want to have sex with me again," she said, a little too loud for his liking. "Fine. Let's not make it into a thing. I'm over it."

"Keep it down," he said and pulled her into the corner, the farthest spot in the dining room from the rest of the house. "Meg. It isn't about me not wanting to have sex with you. You're a beautiful woman, but—"

"Um, no buts. You have sex with random women you hardly know all the time. Why would it be so different between you and me?"

"Because you're not some random woman," he said.

"Exactly! We're friends. I just thought it would be simpler. I know what you are willing to give and what you aren't. I would have been fine with a sex-only relationship. Besides," Meg said, pulling out of his grasp and moving back to the table, "it would solve one big problem. You didn't like the idea of me going home with strangers, and I don't exactly plan on living a life of celibacy. I was just offering an alternative. But it's not going to work. Fine. No harm, no foul."

"I'm not making myself clear," he said. "I just thought it's something we should talk about."

"Talk about what?" She turned around fast, pitcher in hand, causing the water to slosh over the edge. "What exactly are you saying?"

"I've thought about what you said, and maybe—

"Peter. I need to talk to you." Jesse came storming into the room.

"We were in the middle of something," Peter said. "Can't this wait?"

"You're impossible to reach, and I really need to talk to you about Dad and the business."

"Go right ahead," Meg said dismissing them. "I'll finish this up."

But he wasn't done with her. "We'll talk later."

She shrugged and mouthed "Promises, promises," winked, and went back to filling water glasses.

It was a good thing Jesse had come in when she did because that wasn't the conversation Meg wanted to have in Peter's mother's dining room. Why wouldn't he just let her embarrassing slip die? But no, Peter wanted to talk about it and fix things.

Honestly, she didn't know what the hell had gotten into her. Maybe it had been all the martinis she'd had at the party. It could be the schoolgirl crush she'd had and abandoned years ago, rearing its ugly head for old time's sake. Or more than likely it was the fact that she'd been without sex for so long, her vagina had called an intervention and taken over completely.

Whatever the reason, she just wanted to have that whole night erased from her memory. But Peter wasn't going to let it go until they talked it to death. God, she needed a drink. Maybe if she could get through dinner and presents without spending time alone with him, they could put the whole thing off a little longer.

The dinner part was easy. The whole family gathered and spread out around the house. It had been years since they'd all been able to fit around one table, but the less formal nature of the celebration was one of the reasons Megan loved coming to the Bradleys' home.

Every event her entire life, from holidays to birthday parties, had been formal and stiff. It was one of the drawbacks of being a politician's kid. Family gatherings were just another photo op. Even in her own home, Megan had been watched and scrutinized. At least here, she felt like one of the family.

Megan sat beside Jesse and Maria, ensuring that there wouldn't be any alone time for Peter to corner her again. Jesse seemed equally thankful for the distraction. She'd been having a hard time dealing with their father's decline and the extra responsibility of running his business. And whatever she and Peter talked about earlier hadn't gone well. She just glared at him from across the table, so the dinner conversation was sparse.

After everyone was finished and the dishes were being washed, the kids gathered in the basement, waiting impatiently. Megan wasn't about to get trapped upstairs with Peter to continue their uncomfortable conversation, so she skipped the clean-up and assumed the role of Santa. She helped the kids sort the gifts, and by the time everyone was ready, she started passing them out.

Despite the awkward dance of avoidance, it had been a perfect Christmas. She'd enjoyed spending time with the Bradleys, as usual, and managed to stave off Peter for a while longer. All she needed to do was slip out. She'd started to say her goodbyes when Jennifer came running downstairs.

"It's snowing! It's snowing," she announced, hopping up and down. "Can we go sledding, Daddy? Please?"

"It's snowing?" Megan asked. "It's not supposed to start snowing until later tonight."

"They said on the weather this morning the storm was going to come earlier," Jesse said. "It had already started by the time I came downstairs. I need to go and start coordinating the plows for tonight."

"Crap," Megan said, gathering her things. "I'm sorry. I should go too before the roads get bad."

"You can't drive that car in this weather," Peter said, getting up to follow her.

"No, he's right. It's already ten," Maria said. "Why don't you just stay the night,
mi cielo
?"

Megan gave Maria a big hug and kissed her cheek. "I'd love to, but I have a workman coming in the morning." It was partially true. Connor was coming in the morning, but he'd let himself in. Still, it was a convenient excuse in a pinch. "I'll just drive slow and take the side roads. It will be fine."