The Wedding Date: A Christmas Novella (7 page)

He cupped her ass in one bare hand, slid the other up her back, inside her shirt, under her bra. His thumb brushed the curve of her breast and both of them moaned. He shoved her bra up, took her weight in his palm. Her breast seemed to swell, overflowing his hand. He thumbed her nipple. Her legs tried to buckle.

He dragged his lips across her cheek. Scraped his teeth down her jaw. “Inside,” he murmured, breath hot on her throat, “take me inside.”

Inside.

Inside her house. Inside her body.

Inside her defenses. Inside her heart.

Fear trumped passion. “I can’t,” she said, and took a step back. He opened his arms and released her.

Embarrassed for reasons she couldn’t even identify, she turned away from him, yanking off her mittens, adjusting her bra with sweaty fingers. In the glass pane of the door, she saw his reflection. The hunger in his eyes, the disappointment on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she said past the lump in her throat.

He caught her gaze in the glass, gave a rueful half smile. “Should’ve kept my mouth shut. We could’ve done it right here in the snow. I wouldn’t have minded.”

She tried to smile back at him, the kind of smile that would gently tell him she took responsibility for letting things go too far, and at the same time push him away, back into the role she’d assigned him.

But the smile wouldn’t come. She was practically paralyzed, confounded by emotions that just wouldn’t jibe. She hated that he was a doctor, but loved how funny and kind and incredibly generous he was. He scared her down to her DNA, made her doubt rock-solid beliefs, but she wanted to strip off her clothes and rub against him like a pussycat.

She couldn’t process it. She didn’t want to try. She wanted to go back inside, pour a glass of wine, and watch
CSI
reruns until she went numb.

Mostly, she wanted him to go away and leave her in peace. As usual, he wasn’t cooperating.

As if to make the point, he said, “You don’t mind helping me pick out the wine, do you?” He wiggled the fingers that had almost undone her. “No gloves yet, so I didn’t want to carry it all the way from Back Bay.”

Damn his drawl. She unzipped her parka. Flapped it a few times, then zipped it halfway. “There’s a wine store on the way,” she said, sticking her sweaty hands back into her mittens and setting off down the driveway with her usual rapid stride. “You can’t go wrong with a mid-range cab or Chianti. We’re all about red in my family.”

Then she realized she was talking to thin air. She should’ve remembered that evolution moved faster than Cody.

She pulled up and waited while he crawled up to join her, then set off again, trying to moderate her pace. But no matter how slow she walked, he fell behind.

He ambled. He sauntered. A snail could have outrun him.

She simply
could not
walk that slow.

Half a block down, she threw up her hands. “Are you sure you work in the ER?” She pictured a trauma patient bleeding out while he strolled to the gurney.

“The hectic pace suits me.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m greased lightning in the ER.”

“You’re frozen molasses now.”

He smiled. She turned her back on his dimple, strode ahead. “The store’s right around the corner. We should be there by nightfall.”

His laugh rumbled behind her. He had a great laugh, deep and sudden, like she’d surprised it out of him. She had to get away from it. It was too warm, too tempting. She hit the gas and left him to follow at his own glacial pace.

When he came through the door, she pushed two bottles into his hands. “These’ll do.”

He scanned the labels. “Uh-uh.” He moved past her down the aisle.

She trailed after him. “What do you mean, uh-uh? What’s wrong with them?”

“Not a thing.” He propped them back on the shelf, reached for their pricier classico cousins.

She puffed up. “They’re perfectly acceptable mid-range wines.”

He headed for the register. She trailed after him. He paid. She simmered.

Out on the sidewalk, she went at him again. “I can’t believe you spent a hundred bucks on two bottles of chianti to drink with my sister’s lasagna. Who’re you trying to impress? Just because you’re a
doctor
with money coming out of your ears—”

He whirled at a speed that had her blinking, stuck his face down in hers, and gave her both barrels. “That’s right, I’m a
doctor
! And you’re the only woman in America who thinks that’s a bad thing!” He pulled back, insult all over his face. “As for money, I guaran-damn-tee you make more than I do. And without the loans to pay off, either.”

Then he gave her his back, took off at double his normal pace. After a few beats, she found her voice.

“Hey. Cody. You’re going the wrong way.”

C
ODY MADE A
show of stomping back to her. “I’m surprised you didn’t let me wander away.” He said it tartly, letting her know she’d rubbed his fur the wrong way.

“Amelia would’ve sent out a search party.” There was an apology in her smile. And an olive branch.

Fat chance. It’s not that easy, sister.

“I don’t doubt you could’ve talked her out of it,” he said. “Convinced her I’m an asshole. I’m sure you could sell it.”

“You’re many things, Cody, but you’re not an asshole.” She sounded almost regretful.

She set off down Mount Vernon Street. He didn’t try to keep up. She stopped at the corner, visibly swallowed her impatience. At least she felt bad enough not to nag him into a sprint.

He cut her some slack, gave her a smile that turned her cheeks pinker than the cold. She was mule-headed, mercurial, downright impossible to please, and he was tired of getting squeezed into that tiny box she’d built for him. But the truth was, if she fucked like she kissed, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Besides, when she let down her guard, he wanted to eat her up.

“Those condos you lined up for me,” he said when he reached her, “they around here?”

“Within a few blocks.”

“So we’ll be neighbors.”

She shrugged, but with discomfort, not indifference. “I guess. Not that people see much of each other here. Lots of professionals.”

“They all travel at light speed like you?”

That got a laugh out of her. She had a great laugh. It rolled up from her belly, rising a register along the way. Too bad she hoarded it like gold.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You’d be arrested for speeding in Texas. Mowing innocent folks down on the sidewalk.”

She laughed again, and his chest swelled. He liked to make people laugh, but he’d never felt
proud
of it before. He caught her hand, hooked it through his arm. “This’ll slow you down,” he said. When she shied, he clamped it to his side. “Might speed me up too,” he offered. “You never know.”

“There’s not far to go.” She pointed at a brick house across the street. Red shutters, lace curtains, and candles in the windows.

“Their dream house?”

“Nope. That’s in Natick. They’re moving in after New Year’s.”

Amelia met them at the door, apron over her jeans. Now that he was awake, Cody saw she was as pretty as Julie, but more petite. Otherwise, they might almost have been twins if not for the hair. Amelia’s was an eye-catching blonde, usually his favorite. But Julie’s glossy chestnut was something special. It suited her, lush and fiery.

Amelia kissed his cheek like he was already family, raised her brows at the wine, then steered him into the living room where a Christmas tree glittered, a fire crackled on the hearth, and a very fine-looking woman who could only be Julie’s mother came at him like a dog at a bone.

“You’re Cody,” she said, latching onto his large hand with both of her small ones. “I’m Ellen, and I’m so glad to meet you.”

“Pleased to meet you too, ma’am,” he said, and her eyes widened two sizes.

Amelia laughed. “I warned you, Mom. That drawl’s deadly.” She winked at Cody. “Come on out to the kitchen and you can open the wine. I’m dying to try it. It’s ten points up from our usual.”

Julie had disappeared toward the back of the house. Now he followed Amelia in that direction, Ellen tagging along. “So, Cody, Amelia says Julie’s helping you find a place. She usually works with couples, you know. She must like you.”

“I sure do hate to disagree with you, Ellen. But I think if you asked her, she’d tell you I roped her into it.”

He smiled at her. She stumbled over the doorjamb.

Julie was already in the kitchen. Steadying her mother, she aimed a look at Cody that said to be careful where he pointed that thing. He fired one at her too. She sniffed, but her cheeks went rosy.

“Cody.” Amelia pulled him toward the stove where a man half his size was lifting a tray of lasagna out of the oven. “This is Ray, my fiancé.”

Ray threw him a grin as he maneuvered the tray onto a trivet. “I hear you’re from Texas. My Dad’s from out in the Hill Country.”

“No kidding.” Cody grinned too. “I grew up out there. My brother still runs the ranch.”

Ray shed the potholders, stuck out his hand. “I bet my Dad could pin it down within five miles if he heard your drawl.”

“Any real Texan could,” Cody agreed.

Amelia pressed a bottle and corkscrew into his hand. Ellen set out six glasses. “My boyfriend’s coming,” she said, smiling up at him. “It’s so nice that Julie won’t be the odd man out again.”

“Mom!” Julie hissed.

Cody popped the cork. Poured a swallow in one glass and passed it to Julie, smiling slyly. “She didn’t approve of my choice,” he whispered loudly to Ellen.

“I didn’t
not
approve,” Julie sputtered.

“Don’t use double negatives, dear,” Ellen said, then gave Cody an apologetic smile. “I’m a teacher for thirty years now, and still my children mangle the language.”

Julie slugged the wine. “It’s delicious, okay?” She held out her glass. Cody filled it. She guzzled half of it down.

“Jules,” Amelia laughed, “you should savor that. You won’t be getting it again unless Cody comes back.” She gave Cody a wink that said he was welcome any time.

Ray clapped him on the shoulder. He had to reach up to do it. He couldn’t be more than five foot six. “Amelia got me a new TV,” he said. “My wedding gift. Come check it out.”

They went down a short hall, into a small room that was all flat screen. Cody let out a whistle. “Sixty inches?”

“Sixty-five.” Ray hit the power. The Patriots charged into the room, every pore on Tom Brady’s face an inch wide. Ray waved him into a leather recliner with a built-in cup holder, took the other, and kicked out the leg rest. “Let’s give the girls a minute to get you out of their systems.”

“Uh-huh.” Cody tipped back, crossed his boots at the ankle. “They’re a good-looking bunch.”

Ray nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Then both of them groaned. Brady stalked off the field, disgusted. Cody tsked as the camera panned to Gisele. “Ol’ Tom won’t be getting any tonight.”

They watched companionably while the Pats punted and the Giants ran it back to the thirty, then the fifty, then fumbled spectacularly.

Brady had just taken the field again when Amelia appeared in the doorway, hand on her hip. Both men dropped their leg rests in unison.

Ray was first on his feet. “Hi, honey. Just showing Cody the amazing, incredible, wonderful gift my beautiful, thoughtful, generous wife-to-be gave me.” He planted a loud kiss on her cheek.

“Mmm-hmm.” She tapped his chest. “The deal was that you’d DVR the game so we can watch it together.”

“Oh, I am. It’s recording. And I didn’t look at the score. Honest.”

Their affection was written all over them. Cody pushed past his envy. “You’re a lucky man, Ray, marrying a fan.”

“Julie’s a fan too,” Amelia said brightly. “She loves the Pats. She goes to a couple games every season.”

Cody grinned. Himself, he wouldn’t set foot in Gillette Stadium unless the Cowboys were playing, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her.

The kitchen was aswirl, Ellen slicing bread, Julie making salad. Cody popped the cork on the other wine bottle, wishing he’d bought a case. He was completely at ease in this home, with these people. He liked them, and they seemed to like him too. Even Julie must feel how naturally he fit in, because she smiled at him when he topped off her glass. Didn’t pull back when he laid a kiss on her cherry-red lips.

The doorbell chimed. Ellen ran for the door, came back a minute later with a guy who wouldn’t see fifty for another ten years. Blond and built, his arm was locked around her waist.

“Cody, this is Jess. He’s a personal trainer.
My
personal trainer.” She gave Jess’s biceps a squeeze. Then she paused. “Cody, Julie never mentioned what it is that you do.”

“I’m a doctor,” he said.

It fell like a brick.

Julie kept chopping, but the rest of them froze.

Everyone but Jess, who was oblivious to the chill in the room. “A doctor. Cool. What’s your specialty?”

That brought Ellen to life. “For heaven’s sake, we don’t have to grill the poor man!” She shoved her wineglass into Jess’s hand. “Drink this.” He sipped obediently.

Amelia had gone whiter than chalk. “Oh, Jules,” she said, brokenly. “I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine,” Julie cut in, her tone closing the subject. She scraped cukes into the salad, set the knife in the sink. “I’m starving. Can we eat?”

Everyone sat down, but nobody ate. They passed the lasagna, then pushed it around with their forks. No one looked up. No one said a word.

Cody didn’t know what to make of it. Sure, he knew Julie wasn’t crazy about doctors. But this felt like a funeral. What the fuck?

Jess blundered cluelessly into the pall. “My cousin’s a brain surgeon,” he said. “
Bzzzzzz
”—he did a buzz saw—“right through the skull and into the old brainpan.” He chortled a laugh. “Don’t ask me how he does it, man. If I saw a brain, I’d faint like a sissy.” He reached for the bread in the deafening silence. “How ’bout you, Cody? What’s your gig?”

Cody glanced around the table, registered the speechless horror. Beside him, Julie’s fingers twisted in her lap. And suddenly it all came together: the ring, the dead fiancé, the doctor phobia. Maybe malpractice had killed David. It wasn’t unheard of.