WHITE CHRISTMAS
Eric stood in the full-length mirror and inspected his suit. He had to admit to himself, he looked pretty studly in a perfectly-tailored, crisp Armani. Power suits were his favorite ensembles to wear lately. He wore one to work every day and, in the past week or two, his confidence—and his wardrobe—only seemed to grow.
This particular suit, though. This one was different. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Between his uncertainty and the tailor’s smirk in the mirror’s reflection, he was beginning to have second thoughts about it.
It was almost a guarantee that Juliet would see him in this suit. The anticipation of seeing her again sent shivers down his spine and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Travis’s Christmas party the previous week had been brutal. Especially the way Eric could see in her eyes the very same thing he saw in them when they first met. He saw her pain, felt her longing, could almost hear her thinking. She wasn’t over him the same way he wasn’t over her. And, for the first time since he’d met her, he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea.
If Juliet truly believed that she was better off without Eric, then she needed to get over him. Funny, coming from the guy currently checking himself out in the mirror, anticipating their next meeting, wasn’t it? But he’d been making the effort to move on and be a better person and, day after day, it grew a little easier to wish her happy than to wish her back.
Who was he kidding? All she would have to do is say the word and he’d shamelessly throw himself at her mercy.
Clearing his throat and forcing himself to stop thinking about her, he shifted his weight and fingered the seam of the suit jacket. Finally, the tailor, a tall, balding, thin man with glasses, said, “So. Big holiday planned, I gather?”
Blushing for a moment, Eric smirked. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Obviously,” he snorted. “You’re definitely missing something there, though.”
“Yeah,” Eric scoffed. “I’m missing a lot of somethings. I can’t…I’m not sure I can pull this off.”
“Nonsense. Any man can pull this off. That’s what’s so…magical about it.”
Eric flashed a quick glare through the mirror. “Be that as it may, there will probably be a woman…”
“Ah,” the tailor smiled. “Then she’ll love it!”
“Don’t count on it,” Eric murmured.
“Well. Take it or leave it. Break your commitment, whatever you want to do. But I’m telling you, you’re not going to find another suit as good as that one in the entire city. Trust me.”
Sighing, Eric looked himself over once more. The tailor was right. The suit was pretty incredible. He couldn’t believe he was actually putting this much thought into it.
“It works for you,” the tailor continued. “Just a few adjustments here and there…obviously…but that’s actually a pretty good color on you.”
Eric suppressed the laugh that rose in his throat. Instead, he gave it one last examination. “I guess. I guess I just didn’t expect it to be so…red.”
JULIET WAS AT The Loving Care Home for Children before sunrise on Christmas morning. Making breakfast for thirty children, who probably weren't even thinking of breakfast, was a chore all in its own. It required a ton of eggs, a ton of pancakes, and a ton of fruit. It required the setting of tables, the monitoring of little diners, and then the massive cleanup. Juliet admired the house parents that stayed there round the clock. They did this for three meals a day, every day, seven days a week. Having multiple appliances didn't make the task any less monotonous.
But Juliet loved every second of it.
It was a rare occasion that Juliet ever stepped out of her apartment in anything less than expensive stilettos and designer clothes plucked straight from the runway. However, today, she wore an ensemble of blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a green sweater featuring a large image of Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer lined in glitter. It was bold and it was tacky, but she knew the kids would get a kick out of it.
Happily donning an apron, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, washed her hands, and went to work as if she lived in this kitchen every single day. There was always plenty of help during the holidays, as people seemed to find themselves more charitable when Thanksgiving and Christmas rolled around, but Juliet found herself in here for a minimum of twice a month, year-round. Sometimes she wondered if she chose the right career path with Carson Innovations. Sometimes she wondered if volunteering at Loving Care made her happier and more fulfilled than owning her own company did. It was just one more nagging reminder of what was missing in her life.
As the sun began to rise, and breakfast was finishing up, the children were starting to wake up. They would have breakfast in the dining room before going into the common room and opening gifts by the tree. Afterward, they would allow the children to enjoy their gifts while the volunteers did the cleaning and then they would sing songs and play Christmas-themed games until nap time. Today, however, things might go a little differently.
"You know they're calling for snow today, right?" One of the volunteers, a petite redhead with a pixie cut named Rita, said as she pulled a pot from one eye and placed it on the next. "It's not supposed to be until later, but it's already freezing and overcast, I bet it starts any minute. Wouldn't it be just perfect if we had a white Christmas this year?"
Juliet smiled as she removed plates from the cupboard and stacked them in her arms. "Instead of games, we could take the kids outside to play. It really would be the perfect Christmas Day."
Her heart was warm, her arms were full, and her mind was dreaming of snow. As she set the table, she could hear a couple of the male volunteers in the common room preparing the old, stone fireplace that the home possessed and she waited in childlike excitement to smell the wood burning once it was lit. The thing she loved most about Loving Care was how they strove to provide a warm, nurturing, traditional home and atmosphere for the children they cared for while still allowing them to be as normal as possible. These children required extra attention, obviously, as they came from different situations, ranging from abuse to neglect to parental loss, and Loving Care strove to make each, individual child feel important and cared about. This was something that was foreign to Juliet as she grew up in Kentucky's foster care system and this was why she supported the home the way she did.
Breakfast was full of pajamas and excited chatter. This was one of the only mornings of the year that the children were allowed to come to breakfast in their bed clothes. In the dining room were three long tables that sat in a row, each one big enough to seat both children and adults. Juliet's table consisted of the four, five and six-year-olds and to hear them discuss the magic of Santa Claus and Christmas warmed her heart. She knew she might hear a heartbreaking remark or two from a few of the children regarding their backgrounds, which she did, but she tried to take solace in the fact that she had made it her personal duty to help ensure that these children had the best Christmas possible. Being in foster care was rough, whether it was changing foster homes or living in a group home, but if she could help create as many positive memories for these children as possible, then she would know that her purpose on the earth had been served.
Once breakfast was over, escorting thirty excited children into the common room and keeping them out of the Christmas tree was a feat all in its own. While two of the house mothers calmly explained how they would distribute the gifts to ensure that everyone would get to enjoy them, Juliet took her first real look around the room since she'd arrived that morning. "That's, uh, quite the spread this year," she observed in a whisper to Rita, who stood next to her. "I know what I donated. And I know roughly what the others donated. But...the amount since I was last here appears to have almost tripled. These kids will definitely have a good Christmas, but where...?"
"Didn't you hear?" Rita asked. "Loving Care got a new benefactor."
Juliet's eyes widened and she looked at her in shock. She couldn't help feeling just a little bit taken aback by the news. She had been Loving Care's biggest benefactor for the past few years--and the home hadn't been open much longer before that. It was good that the home had multiple benefactors. Such organizations should have as much support as they could get. But she supposed that it was that old pride rearing its ugly head that caused her to feel the threat of her proverbial thunder being stolen. "Who?" She asked incredulously.
Rita shrugged. "No idea. He hasn't been around for long, but it's my impression that he's quite a guy. He donates money, time, skills..."
"Yeah, well so do I--"
"And word on the street is he's planning to tear down and rebuild the entire playground outside. He's apparently also throwing around plans for an education program, intramural sports..."
"So he's a saint."
"That's how they talk about him."
"But you don't know his name?"
"They say he wants to remain anonymous. Says it's not about the recognition for him, that he just has a really big heart."
No longer able to control her mood, Juliet crossed her arms haughtily over her chest and scowled at every man in the room. "Of course," she muttered. "Never mind those of us who actually care about the children, who come in here without the excuse of a holiday and spend time with them and talk to them and help them with their homework. I mean, what, he couldn't even show today? Or did he just have a more lavish way to spend his Christmas and opted let his fat ass wallet do the talking for him?"
Rita widened her eyes at Juliet and stifled a smile. "Jeez, Juliet. He wants to remain anonymous, it doesn't mean he isn't here."
Juliet couldn't respond to that because it was an excellent point that she couldn't argue with. So she stood there, tight-lipped, as she carefully eyed every man in the room, looking for any sign that one of them was the mystery millionaire.
As she lost herself in the study of wrist watches and shoe leather, a commotion at the front door brought her back to the present. "Oh, you made it just in time without a second to spare," Sandra Murphy, the home’s director, said as she answered the door.
She heard a male voice murmur something about a wardrobe malfunction and then, all of a sudden, Santa Claus rounded the corner. "Children," Sandra called happily. "Look who made time to drop in on his way back home to the North Pole!"
Santa's presence caused the room to erupt with joy and even Juliet's heart warmed with the same joy as she found herself caught up in the moment. Even at age thirty-three, there was still something magical about Santa Claus, no matter whether he was good or bad--and this Santa Claus was pretty bad.
While Juliet guffawed with laughter at the awkward, bumbling, costumed man, the kids absolutely ate him up. What was impressive about him, however, was that not only did he take the time to greet each and every child, but he took the opportunity to speak to every single one of them as he distributed gifts to them.
The poor man was accosted with questions that he answered in poor character but with amazing quick wit. She didn't realize that she'd been caught up in the same awe as the children until a whisper sounded in her ear. "That's the guy."
She turned and blinked at Rita. "How do you know?"
"I asked where our regular Santa was—because that is not him."
Juliet smirked. "Clearly. Will we get to meet him?"
"Not sure. It almost doesn't even matter right now. Look how happy the kids are and how good he is with them. I'm thinking about making it my personal mission to become the next Mrs. Claus."
Juliet giggled as the two of them made their way to the dining room to work on the cleanup with the other volunteers. "Sure. Nothing says romance like a fake papa elf in an ill-fitting costume."
The women laughed as they cleared the tables and began working on the dishes. An hour or so had passed and there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel in the kitchen. As aprons were removed and dishcloths were rinsed out, Sandra’s voice rang out from the common room, "Okay, children! It's time for Santa to head back to the North Pole so he can get rested up for next Christmas!"
Juliet grinned at her red-headed cohort. "Better get it while the getting's good. That jolly old elf is about to disappear, don't lose him to a hussy like Mrs. Claus."
As the women dissolved into a fit of laughter, nobody noticed the jolly impersonator peeking into the kitchen door. Both women struggled to stifle their laughter, startled by his presence, and he stood in silence for a moment before his horrible, fake Santa voice replied, "Why, that's no way to talk about a man's wife. It takes a heck of a woman to stay married to a man who requires an endless supply of cookies and has conversations with reindeer."
Juliet couldn't help herself. She laughed until there were tears in eyes and her abdomen trembled with tightness. When she finally recovered, she felt guilty, but she looked at the Santa and saw that he was smiling and that made her feel better. To her surprise, the volunteers had made themselves scarce, including Rita, leaving Juliet alone with the millionaire Santa. Suddenly, she got serious and her eyes hardened. "Okay, let's cut to the chase. Who are you?"
To her annoyance, Santa stayed in character. "Pretty sure introductions aren't necessary, are they?"
"Cut the act, you know what I mean. You traipse in here out of nowhere, flashing all this money around--needed and appreciated, don't get me wrong--put on this horrible excuse for a Santa act--"
"Hey, now--"
"--only to leave here and walk out of these children's lives, letting your wallet do your bidding while you're out eating hundred-dollar dinner plates and riding to your Wall Street job in limousines and sipping cocktails in the Hamptons. People like you make me sick. These children are people. With feelings--"
"I know," he said, finally breaking character. "I also know it's unfair for you to stand there and judge me when you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
Juliet glared at him, the blood rising to her cheeks from the rage. She closed the gap between them so that she could curse him out in private when she stopped short upon eye contact. Her jaw dropped and she found herself speechless. Her heart raced and her hands trembled. She could barely breathe. "Eric?" She whispered.
"For the record," he replied, jerking the beard from his face and letting it snap under his chin, "I traipsed in here because I wanted to. In my truck, by the way. And for much of the time I even forgot you were here because I was having so much fun in there. I understand why you're so passionate about this. I do. And, okay, sure, maybe I started in on this for selfish reasons. I wanted to be close to you, I wanted to, somehow, be a part of your world. But then I started coming here more often and meeting the kids and hearing their stories and learning the program and it's just a really good thing they have going here. And I want to do everything I can to make sure this place can keep going. And I have the means to, I can help--"
Juliet couldn't listen anymore. Throwing all caution and past bitter feelings to the wind, she tossed her arms tightly around his neck and fought the tears that broke through anyway. "You are the most incredible man I've ever met," she whispered into his fake white hair. "I've missed you so much.”
Hesitantly, he tightened his arms around her body. “I—you—really?”
She nodded through her tears as she pulled away and wiped her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “Really.”
Eric’s eyes darted around nervously. "Look, I'm burning up and I gotta get this thing off my face. I need to, uh, take Santa back to the North Pole, if you know what I mean.”
Juliet’s heart pounded and she looked up at him in alarm. “Are you leaving?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Do you—do you want me to?”
She shook her head. “No. No, you don’t have to…stay. Don’t leave.”
He studied her for a moment, his sparkling blue eyes softening and filling her heart with warmth. As said heart flip flopped around in her chest, the anticipation of his answer was agonizing. “I’ll stay,” he said softly. Then he smiled sheepishly. “But I’ve got to get out of this suit. Be right back, okay?”
She smiled dreamily as she watched Eric walk away, awkwardly adjusting the suit that hung off of his body. From nowhere, Rita’s voice came from beside her. "Didn't take long to cozy up to Santa, did it?"
"I know him," Juliet breathed. "I--I had no idea he'd be here or that he was involved in anything, I--I had no idea..."
"Juliet?" She said gently. "Are you okay?"
Juliet shook her head slowly, her eyes staring off into space. "I don't know..."
What she thought she'd learned, however, was a Christmas miracle. She had finally learned what it felt like to fall.
Eric Reynolds, and all the faults that came with him, was her destiny.
* * *
Juliet was suddenly energized. The smile was permanently glued to her face and she commenced in playing with the children. She changed Barbie's clothes, replaced batteries in race cars, and fed bottles to stuffed animals. As she had a conversation about a page colored in a coloring book with a four-year-old girl, a voice rang out through the room. "Whew! It sure is cold out there! I just saw Santa outside. Was he here?"
As the children shrieked Eric's name with delight and bombarded him immediately, Juliet looked up at him with stars in her eyes. He looked incredible, as always, in his jeans and his boots and his gray sweater that fit him much too well. He pushed up his sleeves, revealing the silver Rolex that looked amazing on his wrist and he bent over and scooped up two of the small children, his smile a mile wide.
The little girl in her lap was mesmerized by him and she was so caught up in the scene that she nearly dropped the purple crayon she held in her hand. Juliet smiled at the girl. "Who is that?"
The little girl fought and scrambled to get out of Juliet's lap and she nearly fell over, tearing the page she was coloring out of the book. "That's Mr. Eric," her tiny voice said. "I colored this picture just for him." Leaving Juliet in the dust, the child's chubby little legs ran straight to Eric and waved her page at him. "Mr. Eric, I colored you a picture!"
"You did?" He said brightly, kneeling in front of her, releasing the other two children and taking the page from her. "It's beautiful, Hannah. Will you write your name on it for me?"
"I don't know how to write my name," she whispered shyly.
Eric smiled. "Sure, you do. Here, I'll help you. Will you spell it for me?"
"H...A..."
As Eric helped Hannah write her name, Juliet's heart melted into a puddle right into the floor. Eric had never been more handsome or more sexy or more dreamy than he was in that moment. Finally allowing herself to admit it, she longed to see more of that Eric. All the time, every day...and then her heart sank. She would never possibly see that Eric outside of the children's home. Not all the time, not every day--because even if they did repair their relationship and build a future together, it wouldn't matter. Juliet couldn't have children. It was the first time in years that that reminder had crept up on her and had any sort of impact.
As she let out a breath in an effort to fight off any negative memories or reminders for the day, Sandra Murphy walked over and sat gently on the couch that Juliet's back rested against. "The children absolutely adore him," she said. "He came to us...about a month ago, I think. Right out of the blue, right on our doorstep. It was as if the good Lord, himself, delivered him straight to us. He wanted to know about us, about our organization, how we operated, the statistics...everything. And then he laid some papers on the desk and discussed his plans and his intentions and then he made a donation that...well, Juliet, it was obscenely generous of him. But it didn't stop there. Next thing I know, he's coming over evenings and weekends and repairing the banisters on the staircases, checking the plumbing, and just...all the odds and ends we might hire a handyman to do--and have. And lately he's been mapping out the backyard with plans to revamp that and he has ideas for educational activities and sports activities and--and he spends time with the children. All of them, he knows them all, one by one." Sandra paused and Juliet turned and looked up at her long enough to catch her wiping a tear from her eye. "That man is a blessing if I ever saw one. I mean, not that your generosity goes unnoticed, Juliet, that's not what I'm saying--"
"I know," Juliet said. "He's...he's just that way. Selfless, kind, going above and beyond. You can't appreciate a person like him enough."
"No," Sandra agreed. "You just can't."
Before long, Eric was trapped and swarmed. Sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the children, trying his best to acknowledge them all, and seemingly loving every minute of it. He noticed Juliet long enough to wink at her and go about his business and Juliet's smile was diverted to the front doorway where, to her utter surprise, in walked Jason and Noah.
Juliet stood and brushed herself off, in complete shock. "Jason," she smiled as she made her way toward them. "What brings you guys here?"
"Noah," he said simply, tousling his young son's hair. "We finished up with Christmas morning and we found his gift from you under the tree. He asked where you were and I told him you were here...and he got quiet. And he looked around and he looked at me and he asked me if I would be mad if we brought his toys here because these kids would like them better. I've never been more proud." Jason paused to clear his throat and he nodded behind him. "Anyway, we packed it all up and brought it along."
Juliet didn't think she had any heart left to melt, but it turned out that she did. Kneeling down in front of the seven-year-old, she smiled at him and took him by the hand. "Noah, that is a very generous and grown-up decision you've made. These kids will appreciate it very much."
Noah simply shrugged his shoulders. "It's okay. I have tons of toys at home that I don't play with, either. I know these kids probably don't get toys as much as I do."
Juliet nodded. "Yes, that's true."
Noah looked up at Jason. "Hey, Dad, can we bring them in?"
"Come on, bud," Jason said, leading his son away.
Almost as quickly as they'd gone, Eric was standing by her side. "Interesting that they would show up," he remarked.
Juliet smiled. "Noah wanted to donate his Christmas to the children this year. So Jason let him pack it up and bring it all here. That's one remarkable little kid, there."
"Yeah, well, he's got a pretty good dad."
Juliet's eyes widened and she looked over at Eric. "Oh?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "Jason's a good guy. I’ve hung out with him a couple times. You know, through Travis..."
Her eyes darted around nervously. “That’s, um, that’s—you know, because he’s the reason—“
“I know,” he replied solemnly. “Jules, look. I know it probably doesn’t mean much, but I am so sorry—“
“Not here,” she replied quietly. “We, um…we need to talk. But not here.”
Eric nodded nervously and swallowed hard. "Right. I'm, uh, gonna go see if they need help," he said. "I could use the fresh air. Thirty little sacks of body heat can get to you after awhile." He winked at her once more before making his exit, but it didn't make the exchange any less awkward. So maybe she’d finally given in to herself. Maybe she’d decided to take a page out of the book Dr. Thorne was teaching from and practice that old idea of forgiveness. But regardless, the elephant was still very much in the room and still needed to be addressed.
Juliet had never been more nervous in her life.
* * *
Jason and Noah hadn’t stayed more than an hour or so. Long enough for Jason to have a cup of coffee with Juliet and Eric while Noah played with the other children and showed them how some of the toys worked. “Look, I’d really love to say longer—Noah’s having a blast. But it was starting to snow when we brought the last of the toys in and they’re calling for more of it later tonight. I’d like to get Noah home before it gets crazy out there.”
Jason hadn’t been kidding. By the time he had left with Noah, the snow was already blanketing the ground—and the children were already starting to notice.
It was an exhausting Christmas afternoon of lunch, playing in the snow, and making the common room presentable again. By late afternoon, the children had been settled into the common room floor with blankets and popcorn and Christmas cartoons and the extra volunteers were given the signal that their help was no longer needed for the day.
Juliet’s heart began to pound with nerves as she realized that it was nearing closer to the moment of truth. Just two weeks ago, she hated Eric. She never wanted to see his face again, he was a horrible person, and he wasn’t the person she thought he knew. He just like the others, a user, an abuser, not to be trusted.
But fighting the truth she knew in her heart was growing tiresome. It was so much easier to give in and accept Eric for who she knew he was instead of persecuting for making a mistake. Granted, it was a mistake that still wouldn’t leave her alone, but it was a mistake she was willing to forgive.
Now the pair of them stood on the steps of the children's home, just under cover on the porch from the steadily falling snow. Eric had stayed behind to help out for the rest of the afternoon and now he blew in his hands and rubbed them together, having been too cool, apparently, to wear his coat.
"So, um...what now?" Juliet asked carefully.
"You're gonna need a ride," he stated matter-of-factly. "You couldn't even get a cab in this."
Looking out at the way the white covered everything, she knew he was right. She had taken a cab in the wee hours of the morning to get there because she didn’t dare ask her driver to drive her on a holiday. By this point, however, she was sure the roads would be nearly deserted because of the snow.
"It could be hours before they clear all the roads," he said, further pleading his case. "And my truck drives pretty well in this."
She couldn't help but sneak a smirk at him. "Up to your old tricks again, I see."
"Aw, come on," he smiled. "I'd hate to have to get on the phone and tell them to flip the switch on this snow, it's so pretty!"
Juliet giggled lightly and she smiled. "Okay. I could use the ride. And you need to get warm."
"Oh, thank God," he said, wasting no time starting carefully down the steps.
"Thank God?" She followed him, puzzled. "What if I'd have said no?"
"Then I would have stood there and died of hypothermia because I wasn't taking no for an answer."
"Well, you can't die," she stated as the snow crunched under their feet.
Halting to a stop, he turned around, batting an eyelash against his glittering blue eyes as a smile crept across his face. "I can't?"
"Well, no. I can't drive your truck."
At that, he scowled at her and turned back around, making his way to his truck. Juliet had to giggle. She’d missed how adorable he was.
They sat in the truck for a few minutes, letting it warm up, before Eric finally began to shift it into gear. Before the vehicle moved, though, he stole a look over at her. “Did you maybe, uh, want to come to my place? Have a little dinner? You know, talk...er...catch up?"
"Eric, I said awful things to you. And I hit you--"
"Nothing compares to the abomination that came out of my mouth. If you don't want to, I completely understand. Before you make your decision, though, I feel like I gotta tell you that the view from my room is pretty spectacular."
"Oh?" She smiled. "Is this your new pickup line?"
"Worked the first time," he grinned.
Once again she couldn't resist his charm and she gave in. The truth was, she missed this. She missed his truck. She missed sitting next to him and watching him as he drove, expertly working the gear shift and concentrating intently on the road. Well, that was, when he wasn't busy flapping his jaws. And she missed that, too.
She longed so much to reach over and lace her fingers into his. She wanted to hold his hand so badly she couldn't stand it. Until the truck fishtailed and then Juliet was over it. Eric needed both of his hands. She could do all the hand-holding she wanted once they were safe on solid ground.
Solid ground came in the form of his top floor apartment and the pair of them wasted no time removing their socks and shoes upon entering through the door. The snow continued to fall and neither of them had prepared for it.
It was when Juliet went straight to taking off her pants when Eric halted, his eyes widening. "Whoa. You sure aren't wasting time, are you?"
"Eric," she objected, pointing at his ankles. "The bottoms of my pants are soaked just like yours. I'm not walking around in wet pants."
Sheepishly, he looked her over and scratched his nose. "Uh, yeah. Right. Hey, I'll, uh, I'll grab you a pair of drawstrings. Be right back."
As he left her standing in his kitchen in her underwear, Juliet nearly salivated at the thought of his drawstring pants. The way they hung right off his hips and the way he sauntered across the floor in them in his bare feet...oh, yeah. She knew she definitely missed that.
Unfortunately, he hadn't changed out of his wet jeans, apparently opting to make Juliet's comfort his top priority...while sweet of him, she was superficially disappointed that he didn't model a pair for himself.
As she slid the pants on and tied the strings together, Eric looked around and ran a hand through his hair. “So, uh, you hungry?”
Juliet shook her head. “Are you?”
“Not really.”
“Oh.”
“Wine?”
“No, thank you.”
“Eggnog?”
Juliet shook her head again.
“Flintstone vitamin?’
Finally, she laughed. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” he replied solemnly. “We should, um, we should talk. How about some coffee?”
“Coffee would be perfect.”
A nervous smile flashed across his lips and pink rose in his cheeks. “Perfect,” he agreed. “Feel free to, um, make yourself at home. You know where everything is.”
For the next couple of agonizing minutes, Juliet sat on Eric’s couch, alone, and exhausted her mind with thought. What would she say to him? How would she say it? Was she sure she forgave him? Did she actually harbor a belief that he meant what he’d said or was she simply pushing it aside for her own selfish gain?
Should she even be here right now?
When he walked in the room in sweatpants and a tee shirt, she knew the answer. Not only should she be here, she belonged here.
He sank down onto the couch next to her, keeping a safe distance, and tucking a bare foot under the opposite leg. “So, uh, it’s brewing,” he smiled.
“Can’t wait,” she smiled back nervously.
“Look, Jules,” he began, glancing down at his hands. “It means a lot to me that you’re here. Hell, it means a lot to me that you even got in the truck.”
“Eric…”
“I get it,” he continued. “I completely…get all of it. I…hurt you. I betrayed you. And you…separated yourself from me, I…I get it. That’s why I stopped begging you to give me another chance. It’s why I…I quit trying. Because if putting me out of your life is going to keep you from…from hurting, then I’m okay with that. I’ve accepted it. I want you to know that. Your happiness comes first. It’s my top priority.”
“But I’m not okay with that,” Juliet replied quietly. “I’m not okay with…with your absence. I don’t want you out of my life. I never did.”
His eyes darted around for a moment. “Um. But I thought—I mean, you said—“
“I overreacted.”
“No. You really didn’t—“
“I—“
“No. You didn’t. You protected yourself, you stood up for yourself. You did what you felt was right under the circumstances and I had no right to try to stop you.”
“I forgive you, Eric.”
He stared at her, stunned. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily. “You do? No. I don’t want you to forgive me—“
“But I do. I do forgive you. Because I know you, Eric. And I know and I’ve accepted, deep in my heart, that you would never hurt me. I know this.” Then she smiled. “I’ve been going back to therapy. Twice a week. Dr. Thorne has really been a help.”
Eric smiled. “Jules, that’s great. I’m so proud of you.” Then he paused and he blinked. “Dr. Thorne?”
“Mmhm,” she nodded. “She’s really been opening my eyes to—“
“Leslie Thorne?”
“Yes. Anyway—“
“I’ll be damned…she’s my therapist, too.”
Now it was Juliet’s turn to be surprised. “You have a therapist?”
“I told you in a voicemail that I was making it right.”
“My therapist?”
“It explains so much…”
Juliet paused to think for a moment to reflect on recent sessions. The way Dr. Thorne squirmed at Eric’s name, the way she would “accidentally” bring up subjects they hadn’t discussed, yet. “I think she knows,” Juliet revealed.
“You think?”
“She must. She’s known all along.” Juliet shook her head and scoffed. “God, the way she jumped on the forgiveness wagon so fast. ‘Start with Eric,’ she encouraged. ‘He’s the easiest.’”
“So…she’s been rooting for us—“
“Manipulating us—“
“To find each other again. Maybe she…sees it.”
“It worked,” she whispered.
“I like her.”
“So do I.”
Eric ran a hand through his hair, then ran it along the back of the couch. “So…then we’re cool?”
Juliet smiled, amused. “If you want to be that casual about it, sure.”
“Just like that?”
“I’ve been having to come to terms with some things lately. And one of the biggest ones was…you. Because, honestly--really honestly,” suddenly she felt herself begin to choke up and she cleared her throat. “I’ve only ever known real happiness when I was with you. And why…why would I want to let something like that go? Over a…stupid little misunderstanding?”
His jaw dropped for a second and he blinked before recovering and replying with, “But it wasn’t a stupid little misunderstanding, it was a very big deal—“
“Don’t you get it, Eric? You make me happy. By just simply being you. And if anyone owes anyone an apology, here, I owe you one—“
“No. I won’t let you. And I won’t accept it.”
“I don’t care. But I’m apologizing anyway. For all the shit I’ve put you through and for being so difficult to deal with. You never deserved that.”
“I was impatient. And I pushed you—“
“And you were caring. And compassionate. And loyal and…safe. So dangerously safe. Look, Eric, I…I have a long way to go. I have a lot of shit to sort through. I don’t want you to be one of those things. I want to…to be with you. I want to be by your side, I want you to take this journey with me, I want…you to be there.”
Eric smiled nervously, reaching back and rubbing the back of his neck. “You, um—really? You do?”
“Yes.”
“Look, I understand that it’s going to take awhile to earn your trust back. But I will earn it back. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Now Juliet’s face fell. It fell because he spoke the truth that she didn’t want to admit. That while she had, indeed, forgiven him, her trust was a little more fragile. She still had that little voice in her head that asked her over and over, “Yeah, but did he mean it?”
Did he mean what, exactly? What he’d said? Or his apology?
“I never wanted it to be this way,” she whispered.
“I know,” he replied gently. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I take full responsibility—“
“I want to trust you. I do. I want to…forget the whole thing ever happened. I know you didn’t mean it, I know you’ll never hurt me, but a small part of me…”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Take all the time you need. I mean it.”
Suddenly, her throat began to tighten and tears sprang to her eyes. “It feels so wrong to feel this way. You’ve been nothing but good to me since we met. Why do I--? How could--?
“I understand. I’m going to make it up to you.”
“How did we become this messed up in such a short period of time?
Eric’s eyes fell and he let out a breath through his nose. “Because you and I,” he began, searching for the right words. “Are a lot alike in a lot of ways. We know what we want and we’ll stop at nothing to get it and sometimes…we lose sight of the consequences of our actions. I wanted…you and I was just—willing to do whatever it took to keep you that I ended up pushing you away, myself. I didn’t respect you the way I should have and I was impatient. And then you…you—you wanted me—on your terms which, under the circumstances, I just—I think we went in blind, with our own separate agendas and we talked about all the wrong things.”
“I want to start over,” she said quietly. “But I don’t know how. I know what I want, I just—“
“We can start slow. One day at a time, one step at a time, whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“What does that even mean?”
He smiled gently and he reached over and took her hand. The electricity that jolted through her body was like drugs coursing through her veins. “I’m gonna want to see you—and talk to you—a lot. I’m gonna want to take you to dinner and the theatre and…and anywhere else our imaginations will carry us. I’m gonna want to hold you and kiss you until you’re breathless and I’m gonna want to text you maybe fifty times a day. Because you’re all I want--all the time. But at the same time, I’m gonna want you to communicate openly with me. I’m gonna want you to tell me when it’s too much for you. I’m gonna want you to tell me when you need me to back off. I’m gonna want you to not freak out and disappear on me. Shutting down gets nothing accomplished. Okay?”
Juliet listened to his words. Drank them in. Tried her hardest to understand them. They were already so overwhelming, but all he was asking for was communication. That shouldn’t be difficult, right? After all, she had no problem spilling her guts on the first night, did she?
But this time, though, after everything they had been through…starting over made her nervous. Suddenly, her next session with Dr. Thorne couldn’t come fast enough.
She must have zoned out in her thoughts, because Eric tugged on her hand. “Jules?”
“No sex…” her voice trailed, the words flying out of her mouth before she’d had the chance to think them over.
Eric’s eyes darted deliberately into hers and he nearly choked. “No what? I mean, um…okay…”
More alert now, she straightened her spine. “Yes. No sex. Sex is the root of all evil.”
His jaw dropped and he blinked at her. “The root of all—first of all, money is the root of all evil. Not sex. And, babe—I don’t know who you’re in there screwing when you’re in bed with me, but what goes on in there under those sheets between you and me is the closest to God I’ve ever gotten in my life and there is absolutely nothing evil about it. Sinful, maybe. But not evil, not something that good. And don’t act like you’ve never screamed my name a time or two or three—“
“Eric—“
He scoffed. “No, it’s much louder than that.”
Juliet glared at him. “Focus. And listen to me. The night we met, we had sex. And then it went straight to shit immediately.”
“Come on,” he argued. “That was a stupid little misunderstanding.”
“And then the last time we had sex, we…we ended up here. Sex makes us miserable.”
“No. Our stupid decisions make us miserable. When we’re having sex, it’s like…a goddamn religious experience. You can’t act like you don’t feel that, too. There is nothing more right and true than the two of us together in that moment.”
She looked at him, her expression pained. This already wasn’t starting off well. He wasn’t understanding her. It almost seemed as if he wasn’t willing to understand. Was she making the wrong decision by wanting to start fresh with him?
“Eric,” she whispered, desperate to get through to him. “My entire life has been sex. My entire life.”
And there it was. It was as if she’d found his switch. Because, suddenly, the blood drained from his face and his eyes widened. He opened his mouth for a second and then closed it again. Finally, he spoke. “Oh, shit, babe. I’m doing it, aren’t I? I’m not listening. I’m being selfish and I’m not listening. I’m sorry. I really have to work on that.”
“I’m gonna want you to listen,” she smirked.
He swallowed hard and he took in a breath. “If you think that…that…god, I can’t even say it.”
“Eric,” she smiled.
“Okay. If you truly feel that abstinence or celibacy or any of those other horrific words is what is necessary for us to…to start over, then I’m willing to do that. For you.”
“For us,” she corrected.
“For you. Let’s not push it.”
“I just don’t want our relationship to be predominantly based on sex. I want to know that there’s more to us than that. Believe it or not, I really like you with your clothes on.”
He smiled, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Yeah? I like you with my clothes on.”
“Like right now?” She tested.
“Especially right now.”
“Tell me we can do this,” she said quietly. “Tell me we can date like teenagers. That we can hold hands and we can go to the movies. And that you can walk me to my door and kiss me goodnight and let me go to bed alone and swoon and dream about you all night. I never had that before. I want the dream.”
“Can I pass notes to you during meetings?”
“As long as you keep your hands to yourself.”
“You drive a hard bargain, you know that?”
“Just humor me for a little while?”
“I’ll do anything you want,” he smiled. “Under one condition.”
Juliet’s breath caught in her throat. No. This stuff was supposed to be unconditional, wasn’t it? Didn’t she just use “no sex” as a condition, though? This was getting so confusing. Her head began to dizzy a little. “What?” She creaked out.
“I desperately need you to kiss me,” he breathed with desire. “Right now.”
Kiss him? She hadn’t kissed him in two weeks. Since that day. Since…sex. Kissing led to sex. Once she kissed him, she knew she wouldn’t stop. His kiss was everything, it was her addiction. But hadn’t she just finished talking about goodnight kisses? That was what she said she wanted, right? But to kiss him, that would…that would be to touch him. And to want him and taste him and breathe him in. Did she have that much self-control, to take her own advice?
As if he read her mind, he smiled boyishly. “Come on. Aren’t you the one who said, and I quote, that my kiss is ‘everything?’”
She glanced up at him, her lips parting speechlessly.
“Just a kiss,” he said quietly. “Nothing more, I promise.”
And then she nodded her response while her heart nearly beat out of her chest. Untucking his foot from out from under him, he scooted over on the couch until his body was nearly pressed next to hers. Lifting his hand, he tucked her hair behind her ear and he searched her eyes before he made his move. And then he touched his lips to hers.
The second his soft lips met hers, she lost all sense of control, as predicted. Almost immediately, she opened her mouth and let him in and she turned her torso around so that she could wrap an arm around his neck and press herself into him. The blood rushed deliciously rampant through every vein in her body and her heart raced with an indiscernible mixture of excitement and fear. Before long, she found herself side-saddle on his lap and her fingers massaged his new haircut fiercely while her fist gripped a handful of material on his shoulder. With his arms wrapped tightly around her, enveloping her in his warmth and sincerity, she could have stayed like that forever. And she would have, had she not felt herself losing control.
Her lips trailed from his mouth to his cheek, along his perfect jaw and down to his neck. A sigh escaped him and his fingertips gripped her back before he whispered, “Jules.”
Finally, she buried her face in his neck and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Eric,” she said in a muffled whisper. “I’ve missed you so much. Please take me back. Please.”
His arms tightened around her, his hand running the length of her hair, sending chills down her spine. “Hey, that’s my line, isn’t it?”
“I don’t care whose line it is. But I’ll be so good to you. I want to be good to you.”
“Hey,” he said again. “You already are good to me. There is no other man on this planet who is luckier than I am.”
“Except Travis.”
“What?”
“He scored Beth,” she replied matter-of-factly. “And Beth is the absolute best person on the planet. No argument.”
“Maybe she’s the best for him,” he whispered. “But she’s not the best for me. She’s not you.”
She pulled away and she took a breath as she looked into his deep, sparkling blue eyes. Eyes that calmed and soothed her, eyes that were caring and sincere. “It’s growing very difficult for me to not—“
Suddenly, something changed in the room. The pair of them froze and they looked at each other for a moment. Then their eyes darted around. A pin dropping could be heard for their silence.
Juliet noticed it first. “The cable box has no lights.”
Eric looked up at the TV for a second before he dove for the remote on the coffee table and began pressing buttons. Nothing was happening.
Simultaneously, the pair of them jumped from the couch and began flipping light switches to no avail. Juliet ended up at the window and looked out onto the overcast city streets. “Shit,” she hissed. “It’s horrible out there. Does the news say anything about a blizzard or some type of storm? I thought they were only calling for snow?”
She turned around to find Eric already frantically searching his phone. Meanwhile, the reality of the situation was quickly making itself known and Juliet could already feel the temperature in the apartment dropping.
“There’s more on the way,” he murmured. “A quarter of the city is already out.” Then he let out a sigh and looked up. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you freeze.”
“I’m not worried about me,” she spat. “What if Loving Care lost power, too?”
Eric reacted immediately. “I’ll call the power company. You call Sandra. If they’re out, I have a generator that we can take over there.”
“There’s no way we can drive in this!”
“Call her,” he demanded.
Juliet didn’t waste any more time. A few minutes later, the pair reconvened in the living room. “Power company’s getting bombarded with calls,” Eric said. “There’s no definite ETA on anything, they’re fighting with the weather just like everyone else. What did Sandra say?”
“They’ve been out of power for over an hour and the forecast is showing another wave coming through. They have a fire in the fireplace, but with thirty or so kids involved, having enough wood is a concern. You know how these snow storms can get up here. They’ll need hot water to cook with, lights to see. She says they have a generator, but—“
“Mine’s bigger,” he said. “They’ll never survive more than half a day or so off the one they have now. If this is anything like the one several years ago, we could be out of power for days.”
“So what do we--?’
“Go in my room and pack a bag,” he commanded. “You’ll…probably need to pack a few extra changes of my clothes. My medical bag is under the sink in my bathroom. It’s black. Pack that, too. Then go in the linen closet and grab some blankets and pillows. Looks like we’ll be boarding there.”
“I don’t understand—“
“I gotta go down into the garage and load up the generator. I’ll come back up and get you. We’ll have to put chains on my tires if we even want to attempt to make it out of there. So when we get down there, I’m going to need your help. I’m going to need you to listen carefully to every single instruction I give you. Okay? Time is of the essence right now.”
In other words, she had to trust him. Her heart pounded in the wake of her nerves. Jesus, she had just gotten him back. Now was not the time for an anxiety attack.
But as she watched him throw on his coat and grab his keys, listening to his boots pound deliberately against the kitchen tile, she had never been more proud of him. Of her man. Of her knight in shining armor.
Eric stood in the full-length mirror and inspected his suit. He had to admit to himself, he looked pretty studly in a perfectly-tailored, crisp Armani. Power suits were his favorite ensembles to wear lately. He wore one to work every day and, in the past week or two, his confidence—and his wardrobe—only seemed to grow.
This particular suit, though. This one was different. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Between his uncertainty and the tailor’s smirk in the mirror’s reflection, he was beginning to have second thoughts about it.
It was almost a guarantee that Juliet would see him in this suit. The anticipation of seeing her again sent shivers down his spine and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Travis’s Christmas party the previous week had been brutal. Especially the way Eric could see in her eyes the very same thing he saw in them when they first met. He saw her pain, felt her longing, could almost hear her thinking. She wasn’t over him the same way he wasn’t over her. And, for the first time since he’d met her, he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea.
If Juliet truly believed that she was better off without Eric, then she needed to get over him. Funny, coming from the guy currently checking himself out in the mirror, anticipating their next meeting, wasn’t it? But he’d been making the effort to move on and be a better person and, day after day, it grew a little easier to wish her happy than to wish her back.
Who was he kidding? All she would have to do is say the word and he’d shamelessly throw himself at her mercy.
Clearing his throat and forcing himself to stop thinking about her, he shifted his weight and fingered the seam of the suit jacket. Finally, the tailor, a tall, balding, thin man with glasses, said, “So. Big holiday planned, I gather?”
Blushing for a moment, Eric smirked. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Obviously,” he snorted. “You’re definitely missing something there, though.”
“Yeah,” Eric scoffed. “I’m missing a lot of somethings. I can’t…I’m not sure I can pull this off.”
“Nonsense. Any man can pull this off. That’s what’s so…magical about it.”
Eric flashed a quick glare through the mirror. “Be that as it may, there will probably be a woman…”
“Ah,” the tailor smiled. “Then she’ll love it!”
“Don’t count on it,” Eric murmured.
“Well. Take it or leave it. Break your commitment, whatever you want to do. But I’m telling you, you’re not going to find another suit as good as that one in the entire city. Trust me.”
Sighing, Eric looked himself over once more. The tailor was right. The suit was pretty incredible. He couldn’t believe he was actually putting this much thought into it.
“It works for you,” the tailor continued. “Just a few adjustments here and there…obviously…but that’s actually a pretty good color on you.”
Eric suppressed the laugh that rose in his throat. Instead, he gave it one last examination. “I guess. I guess I just didn’t expect it to be so…red.”
JULIET WAS AT The Loving Care Home for Children before sunrise on Christmas morning. Making breakfast for thirty children, who probably weren't even thinking of breakfast, was a chore all in its own. It required a ton of eggs, a ton of pancakes, and a ton of fruit. It required the setting of tables, the monitoring of little diners, and then the massive cleanup. Juliet admired the house parents that stayed there round the clock. They did this for three meals a day, every day, seven days a week. Having multiple appliances didn't make the task any less monotonous.
But Juliet loved every second of it.
It was a rare occasion that Juliet ever stepped out of her apartment in anything less than expensive stilettos and designer clothes plucked straight from the runway. However, today, she wore an ensemble of blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a green sweater featuring a large image of Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer lined in glitter. It was bold and it was tacky, but she knew the kids would get a kick out of it.
Happily donning an apron, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, washed her hands, and went to work as if she lived in this kitchen every single day. There was always plenty of help during the holidays, as people seemed to find themselves more charitable when Thanksgiving and Christmas rolled around, but Juliet found herself in here for a minimum of twice a month, year-round. Sometimes she wondered if she chose the right career path with Carson Innovations. Sometimes she wondered if volunteering at Loving Care made her happier and more fulfilled than owning her own company did. It was just one more nagging reminder of what was missing in her life.
As the sun began to rise, and breakfast was finishing up, the children were starting to wake up. They would have breakfast in the dining room before going into the common room and opening gifts by the tree. Afterward, they would allow the children to enjoy their gifts while the volunteers did the cleaning and then they would sing songs and play Christmas-themed games until nap time. Today, however, things might go a little differently.
"You know they're calling for snow today, right?" One of the volunteers, a petite redhead with a pixie cut named Rita, said as she pulled a pot from one eye and placed it on the next. "It's not supposed to be until later, but it's already freezing and overcast, I bet it starts any minute. Wouldn't it be just perfect if we had a white Christmas this year?"
Juliet smiled as she removed plates from the cupboard and stacked them in her arms. "Instead of games, we could take the kids outside to play. It really would be the perfect Christmas Day."
Her heart was warm, her arms were full, and her mind was dreaming of snow. As she set the table, she could hear a couple of the male volunteers in the common room preparing the old, stone fireplace that the home possessed and she waited in childlike excitement to smell the wood burning once it was lit. The thing she loved most about Loving Care was how they strove to provide a warm, nurturing, traditional home and atmosphere for the children they cared for while still allowing them to be as normal as possible. These children required extra attention, obviously, as they came from different situations, ranging from abuse to neglect to parental loss, and Loving Care strove to make each, individual child feel important and cared about. This was something that was foreign to Juliet as she grew up in Kentucky's foster care system and this was why she supported the home the way she did.
Breakfast was full of pajamas and excited chatter. This was one of the only mornings of the year that the children were allowed to come to breakfast in their bed clothes. In the dining room were three long tables that sat in a row, each one big enough to seat both children and adults. Juliet's table consisted of the four, five and six-year-olds and to hear them discuss the magic of Santa Claus and Christmas warmed her heart. She knew she might hear a heartbreaking remark or two from a few of the children regarding their backgrounds, which she did, but she tried to take solace in the fact that she had made it her personal duty to help ensure that these children had the best Christmas possible. Being in foster care was rough, whether it was changing foster homes or living in a group home, but if she could help create as many positive memories for these children as possible, then she would know that her purpose on the earth had been served.
Once breakfast was over, escorting thirty excited children into the common room and keeping them out of the Christmas tree was a feat all in its own. While two of the house mothers calmly explained how they would distribute the gifts to ensure that everyone would get to enjoy them, Juliet took her first real look around the room since she'd arrived that morning. "That's, uh, quite the spread this year," she observed in a whisper to Rita, who stood next to her. "I know what I donated. And I know roughly what the others donated. But...the amount since I was last here appears to have almost tripled. These kids will definitely have a good Christmas, but where...?"
"Didn't you hear?" Rita asked. "Loving Care got a new benefactor."
Juliet's eyes widened and she looked at her in shock. She couldn't help feeling just a little bit taken aback by the news. She had been Loving Care's biggest benefactor for the past few years--and the home hadn't been open much longer before that. It was good that the home had multiple benefactors. Such organizations should have as much support as they could get. But she supposed that it was that old pride rearing its ugly head that caused her to feel the threat of her proverbial thunder being stolen. "Who?" She asked incredulously.
Rita shrugged. "No idea. He hasn't been around for long, but it's my impression that he's quite a guy. He donates money, time, skills..."
"Yeah, well so do I--"
"And word on the street is he's planning to tear down and rebuild the entire playground outside. He's apparently also throwing around plans for an education program, intramural sports..."
"So he's a saint."
"That's how they talk about him."
"But you don't know his name?"
"They say he wants to remain anonymous. Says it's not about the recognition for him, that he just has a really big heart."
No longer able to control her mood, Juliet crossed her arms haughtily over her chest and scowled at every man in the room. "Of course," she muttered. "Never mind those of us who actually care about the children, who come in here without the excuse of a holiday and spend time with them and talk to them and help them with their homework. I mean, what, he couldn't even show today? Or did he just have a more lavish way to spend his Christmas and opted let his fat ass wallet do the talking for him?"
Rita widened her eyes at Juliet and stifled a smile. "Jeez, Juliet. He wants to remain anonymous, it doesn't mean he isn't here."
Juliet couldn't respond to that because it was an excellent point that she couldn't argue with. So she stood there, tight-lipped, as she carefully eyed every man in the room, looking for any sign that one of them was the mystery millionaire.
As she lost herself in the study of wrist watches and shoe leather, a commotion at the front door brought her back to the present. "Oh, you made it just in time without a second to spare," Sandra Murphy, the home’s director, said as she answered the door.
She heard a male voice murmur something about a wardrobe malfunction and then, all of a sudden, Santa Claus rounded the corner. "Children," Sandra called happily. "Look who made time to drop in on his way back home to the North Pole!"
Santa's presence caused the room to erupt with joy and even Juliet's heart warmed with the same joy as she found herself caught up in the moment. Even at age thirty-three, there was still something magical about Santa Claus, no matter whether he was good or bad--and this Santa Claus was pretty bad.
While Juliet guffawed with laughter at the awkward, bumbling, costumed man, the kids absolutely ate him up. What was impressive about him, however, was that not only did he take the time to greet each and every child, but he took the opportunity to speak to every single one of them as he distributed gifts to them.
The poor man was accosted with questions that he answered in poor character but with amazing quick wit. She didn't realize that she'd been caught up in the same awe as the children until a whisper sounded in her ear. "That's the guy."
She turned and blinked at Rita. "How do you know?"
"I asked where our regular Santa was—because that is not him."
Juliet smirked. "Clearly. Will we get to meet him?"
"Not sure. It almost doesn't even matter right now. Look how happy the kids are and how good he is with them. I'm thinking about making it my personal mission to become the next Mrs. Claus."
Juliet giggled as the two of them made their way to the dining room to work on the cleanup with the other volunteers. "Sure. Nothing says romance like a fake papa elf in an ill-fitting costume."
The women laughed as they cleared the tables and began working on the dishes. An hour or so had passed and there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel in the kitchen. As aprons were removed and dishcloths were rinsed out, Sandra’s voice rang out from the common room, "Okay, children! It's time for Santa to head back to the North Pole so he can get rested up for next Christmas!"
Juliet grinned at her red-headed cohort. "Better get it while the getting's good. That jolly old elf is about to disappear, don't lose him to a hussy like Mrs. Claus."
As the women dissolved into a fit of laughter, nobody noticed the jolly impersonator peeking into the kitchen door. Both women struggled to stifle their laughter, startled by his presence, and he stood in silence for a moment before his horrible, fake Santa voice replied, "Why, that's no way to talk about a man's wife. It takes a heck of a woman to stay married to a man who requires an endless supply of cookies and has conversations with reindeer."
Juliet couldn't help herself. She laughed until there were tears in eyes and her abdomen trembled with tightness. When she finally recovered, she felt guilty, but she looked at the Santa and saw that he was smiling and that made her feel better. To her surprise, the volunteers had made themselves scarce, including Rita, leaving Juliet alone with the millionaire Santa. Suddenly, she got serious and her eyes hardened. "Okay, let's cut to the chase. Who are you?"
To her annoyance, Santa stayed in character. "Pretty sure introductions aren't necessary, are they?"
"Cut the act, you know what I mean. You traipse in here out of nowhere, flashing all this money around--needed and appreciated, don't get me wrong--put on this horrible excuse for a Santa act--"
"Hey, now--"
"--only to leave here and walk out of these children's lives, letting your wallet do your bidding while you're out eating hundred-dollar dinner plates and riding to your Wall Street job in limousines and sipping cocktails in the Hamptons. People like you make me sick. These children are people. With feelings--"
"I know," he said, finally breaking character. "I also know it's unfair for you to stand there and judge me when you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
Juliet glared at him, the blood rising to her cheeks from the rage. She closed the gap between them so that she could curse him out in private when she stopped short upon eye contact. Her jaw dropped and she found herself speechless. Her heart raced and her hands trembled. She could barely breathe. "Eric?" She whispered.
"For the record," he replied, jerking the beard from his face and letting it snap under his chin, "I traipsed in here because I wanted to. In my truck, by the way. And for much of the time I even forgot you were here because I was having so much fun in there. I understand why you're so passionate about this. I do. And, okay, sure, maybe I started in on this for selfish reasons. I wanted to be close to you, I wanted to, somehow, be a part of your world. But then I started coming here more often and meeting the kids and hearing their stories and learning the program and it's just a really good thing they have going here. And I want to do everything I can to make sure this place can keep going. And I have the means to, I can help--"
Juliet couldn't listen anymore. Throwing all caution and past bitter feelings to the wind, she tossed her arms tightly around his neck and fought the tears that broke through anyway. "You are the most incredible man I've ever met," she whispered into his fake white hair. "I've missed you so much.”
Hesitantly, he tightened his arms around her body. “I—you—really?”
She nodded through her tears as she pulled away and wiped her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “Really.”
Eric’s eyes darted around nervously. "Look, I'm burning up and I gotta get this thing off my face. I need to, uh, take Santa back to the North Pole, if you know what I mean.”
Juliet’s heart pounded and she looked up at him in alarm. “Are you leaving?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Do you—do you want me to?”
She shook her head. “No. No, you don’t have to…stay. Don’t leave.”
He studied her for a moment, his sparkling blue eyes softening and filling her heart with warmth. As said heart flip flopped around in her chest, the anticipation of his answer was agonizing. “I’ll stay,” he said softly. Then he smiled sheepishly. “But I’ve got to get out of this suit. Be right back, okay?”
She smiled dreamily as she watched Eric walk away, awkwardly adjusting the suit that hung off of his body. From nowhere, Rita’s voice came from beside her. "Didn't take long to cozy up to Santa, did it?"
"I know him," Juliet breathed. "I--I had no idea he'd be here or that he was involved in anything, I--I had no idea..."
"Juliet?" She said gently. "Are you okay?"
Juliet shook her head slowly, her eyes staring off into space. "I don't know..."
What she thought she'd learned, however, was a Christmas miracle. She had finally learned what it felt like to fall.
Eric Reynolds, and all the faults that came with him, was her destiny.
* * *
Juliet was suddenly energized. The smile was permanently glued to her face and she commenced in playing with the children. She changed Barbie's clothes, replaced batteries in race cars, and fed bottles to stuffed animals. As she had a conversation about a page colored in a coloring book with a four-year-old girl, a voice rang out through the room. "Whew! It sure is cold out there! I just saw Santa outside. Was he here?"
As the children shrieked Eric's name with delight and bombarded him immediately, Juliet looked up at him with stars in her eyes. He looked incredible, as always, in his jeans and his boots and his gray sweater that fit him much too well. He pushed up his sleeves, revealing the silver Rolex that looked amazing on his wrist and he bent over and scooped up two of the small children, his smile a mile wide.
The little girl in her lap was mesmerized by him and she was so caught up in the scene that she nearly dropped the purple crayon she held in her hand. Juliet smiled at the girl. "Who is that?"
The little girl fought and scrambled to get out of Juliet's lap and she nearly fell over, tearing the page she was coloring out of the book. "That's Mr. Eric," her tiny voice said. "I colored this picture just for him." Leaving Juliet in the dust, the child's chubby little legs ran straight to Eric and waved her page at him. "Mr. Eric, I colored you a picture!"
"You did?" He said brightly, kneeling in front of her, releasing the other two children and taking the page from her. "It's beautiful, Hannah. Will you write your name on it for me?"
"I don't know how to write my name," she whispered shyly.
Eric smiled. "Sure, you do. Here, I'll help you. Will you spell it for me?"
"H...A..."
As Eric helped Hannah write her name, Juliet's heart melted into a puddle right into the floor. Eric had never been more handsome or more sexy or more dreamy than he was in that moment. Finally allowing herself to admit it, she longed to see more of that Eric. All the time, every day...and then her heart sank. She would never possibly see that Eric outside of the children's home. Not all the time, not every day--because even if they did repair their relationship and build a future together, it wouldn't matter. Juliet couldn't have children. It was the first time in years that that reminder had crept up on her and had any sort of impact.
As she let out a breath in an effort to fight off any negative memories or reminders for the day, Sandra Murphy walked over and sat gently on the couch that Juliet's back rested against. "The children absolutely adore him," she said. "He came to us...about a month ago, I think. Right out of the blue, right on our doorstep. It was as if the good Lord, himself, delivered him straight to us. He wanted to know about us, about our organization, how we operated, the statistics...everything. And then he laid some papers on the desk and discussed his plans and his intentions and then he made a donation that...well, Juliet, it was obscenely generous of him. But it didn't stop there. Next thing I know, he's coming over evenings and weekends and repairing the banisters on the staircases, checking the plumbing, and just...all the odds and ends we might hire a handyman to do--and have. And lately he's been mapping out the backyard with plans to revamp that and he has ideas for educational activities and sports activities and--and he spends time with the children. All of them, he knows them all, one by one." Sandra paused and Juliet turned and looked up at her long enough to catch her wiping a tear from her eye. "That man is a blessing if I ever saw one. I mean, not that your generosity goes unnoticed, Juliet, that's not what I'm saying--"
"I know," Juliet said. "He's...he's just that way. Selfless, kind, going above and beyond. You can't appreciate a person like him enough."
"No," Sandra agreed. "You just can't."
Before long, Eric was trapped and swarmed. Sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the children, trying his best to acknowledge them all, and seemingly loving every minute of it. He noticed Juliet long enough to wink at her and go about his business and Juliet's smile was diverted to the front doorway where, to her utter surprise, in walked Jason and Noah.
Juliet stood and brushed herself off, in complete shock. "Jason," she smiled as she made her way toward them. "What brings you guys here?"
"Noah," he said simply, tousling his young son's hair. "We finished up with Christmas morning and we found his gift from you under the tree. He asked where you were and I told him you were here...and he got quiet. And he looked around and he looked at me and he asked me if I would be mad if we brought his toys here because these kids would like them better. I've never been more proud." Jason paused to clear his throat and he nodded behind him. "Anyway, we packed it all up and brought it along."
Juliet didn't think she had any heart left to melt, but it turned out that she did. Kneeling down in front of the seven-year-old, she smiled at him and took him by the hand. "Noah, that is a very generous and grown-up decision you've made. These kids will appreciate it very much."
Noah simply shrugged his shoulders. "It's okay. I have tons of toys at home that I don't play with, either. I know these kids probably don't get toys as much as I do."
Juliet nodded. "Yes, that's true."
Noah looked up at Jason. "Hey, Dad, can we bring them in?"
"Come on, bud," Jason said, leading his son away.
Almost as quickly as they'd gone, Eric was standing by her side. "Interesting that they would show up," he remarked.
Juliet smiled. "Noah wanted to donate his Christmas to the children this year. So Jason let him pack it up and bring it all here. That's one remarkable little kid, there."
"Yeah, well, he's got a pretty good dad."
Juliet's eyes widened and she looked over at Eric. "Oh?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "Jason's a good guy. I’ve hung out with him a couple times. You know, through Travis..."
Her eyes darted around nervously. “That’s, um, that’s—you know, because he’s the reason—“
“I know,” he replied solemnly. “Jules, look. I know it probably doesn’t mean much, but I am so sorry—“
“Not here,” she replied quietly. “We, um…we need to talk. But not here.”
Eric nodded nervously and swallowed hard. "Right. I'm, uh, gonna go see if they need help," he said. "I could use the fresh air. Thirty little sacks of body heat can get to you after awhile." He winked at her once more before making his exit, but it didn't make the exchange any less awkward. So maybe she’d finally given in to herself. Maybe she’d decided to take a page out of the book Dr. Thorne was teaching from and practice that old idea of forgiveness. But regardless, the elephant was still very much in the room and still needed to be addressed.
Juliet had never been more nervous in her life.
* * *
Jason and Noah hadn’t stayed more than an hour or so. Long enough for Jason to have a cup of coffee with Juliet and Eric while Noah played with the other children and showed them how some of the toys worked. “Look, I’d really love to say longer—Noah’s having a blast. But it was starting to snow when we brought the last of the toys in and they’re calling for more of it later tonight. I’d like to get Noah home before it gets crazy out there.”
Jason hadn’t been kidding. By the time he had left with Noah, the snow was already blanketing the ground—and the children were already starting to notice.
It was an exhausting Christmas afternoon of lunch, playing in the snow, and making the common room presentable again. By late afternoon, the children had been settled into the common room floor with blankets and popcorn and Christmas cartoons and the extra volunteers were given the signal that their help was no longer needed for the day.
Juliet’s heart began to pound with nerves as she realized that it was nearing closer to the moment of truth. Just two weeks ago, she hated Eric. She never wanted to see his face again, he was a horrible person, and he wasn’t the person she thought he knew. He just like the others, a user, an abuser, not to be trusted.
But fighting the truth she knew in her heart was growing tiresome. It was so much easier to give in and accept Eric for who she knew he was instead of persecuting for making a mistake. Granted, it was a mistake that still wouldn’t leave her alone, but it was a mistake she was willing to forgive.
Now the pair of them stood on the steps of the children's home, just under cover on the porch from the steadily falling snow. Eric had stayed behind to help out for the rest of the afternoon and now he blew in his hands and rubbed them together, having been too cool, apparently, to wear his coat.
"So, um...what now?" Juliet asked carefully.
"You're gonna need a ride," he stated matter-of-factly. "You couldn't even get a cab in this."
Looking out at the way the white covered everything, she knew he was right. She had taken a cab in the wee hours of the morning to get there because she didn’t dare ask her driver to drive her on a holiday. By this point, however, she was sure the roads would be nearly deserted because of the snow.
"It could be hours before they clear all the roads," he said, further pleading his case. "And my truck drives pretty well in this."
She couldn't help but sneak a smirk at him. "Up to your old tricks again, I see."
"Aw, come on," he smiled. "I'd hate to have to get on the phone and tell them to flip the switch on this snow, it's so pretty!"
Juliet giggled lightly and she smiled. "Okay. I could use the ride. And you need to get warm."
"Oh, thank God," he said, wasting no time starting carefully down the steps.
"Thank God?" She followed him, puzzled. "What if I'd have said no?"
"Then I would have stood there and died of hypothermia because I wasn't taking no for an answer."
"Well, you can't die," she stated as the snow crunched under their feet.
Halting to a stop, he turned around, batting an eyelash against his glittering blue eyes as a smile crept across his face. "I can't?"
"Well, no. I can't drive your truck."
At that, he scowled at her and turned back around, making his way to his truck. Juliet had to giggle. She’d missed how adorable he was.
They sat in the truck for a few minutes, letting it warm up, before Eric finally began to shift it into gear. Before the vehicle moved, though, he stole a look over at her. “Did you maybe, uh, want to come to my place? Have a little dinner? You know, talk...er...catch up?"
"Eric, I said awful things to you. And I hit you--"
"Nothing compares to the abomination that came out of my mouth. If you don't want to, I completely understand. Before you make your decision, though, I feel like I gotta tell you that the view from my room is pretty spectacular."
"Oh?" She smiled. "Is this your new pickup line?"
"Worked the first time," he grinned.
Once again she couldn't resist his charm and she gave in. The truth was, she missed this. She missed his truck. She missed sitting next to him and watching him as he drove, expertly working the gear shift and concentrating intently on the road. Well, that was, when he wasn't busy flapping his jaws. And she missed that, too.
She longed so much to reach over and lace her fingers into his. She wanted to hold his hand so badly she couldn't stand it. Until the truck fishtailed and then Juliet was over it. Eric needed both of his hands. She could do all the hand-holding she wanted once they were safe on solid ground.
Solid ground came in the form of his top floor apartment and the pair of them wasted no time removing their socks and shoes upon entering through the door. The snow continued to fall and neither of them had prepared for it.
It was when Juliet went straight to taking off her pants when Eric halted, his eyes widening. "Whoa. You sure aren't wasting time, are you?"
"Eric," she objected, pointing at his ankles. "The bottoms of my pants are soaked just like yours. I'm not walking around in wet pants."
Sheepishly, he looked her over and scratched his nose. "Uh, yeah. Right. Hey, I'll, uh, I'll grab you a pair of drawstrings. Be right back."
As he left her standing in his kitchen in her underwear, Juliet nearly salivated at the thought of his drawstring pants. The way they hung right off his hips and the way he sauntered across the floor in them in his bare feet...oh, yeah. She knew she definitely missed that.
Unfortunately, he hadn't changed out of his wet jeans, apparently opting to make Juliet's comfort his top priority...while sweet of him, she was superficially disappointed that he didn't model a pair for himself.
As she slid the pants on and tied the strings together, Eric looked around and ran a hand through his hair. “So, uh, you hungry?”
Juliet shook her head. “Are you?”
“Not really.”
“Oh.”
“Wine?”
“No, thank you.”
“Eggnog?”
Juliet shook her head again.
“Flintstone vitamin?’
Finally, she laughed. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” he replied solemnly. “We should, um, we should talk. How about some coffee?”
“Coffee would be perfect.”
A nervous smile flashed across his lips and pink rose in his cheeks. “Perfect,” he agreed. “Feel free to, um, make yourself at home. You know where everything is.”
For the next couple of agonizing minutes, Juliet sat on Eric’s couch, alone, and exhausted her mind with thought. What would she say to him? How would she say it? Was she sure she forgave him? Did she actually harbor a belief that he meant what he’d said or was she simply pushing it aside for her own selfish gain?
Should she even be here right now?
When he walked in the room in sweatpants and a tee shirt, she knew the answer. Not only should she be here, she belonged here.
He sank down onto the couch next to her, keeping a safe distance, and tucking a bare foot under the opposite leg. “So, uh, it’s brewing,” he smiled.
“Can’t wait,” she smiled back nervously.
“Look, Jules,” he began, glancing down at his hands. “It means a lot to me that you’re here. Hell, it means a lot to me that you even got in the truck.”
“Eric…”
“I get it,” he continued. “I completely…get all of it. I…hurt you. I betrayed you. And you…separated yourself from me, I…I get it. That’s why I stopped begging you to give me another chance. It’s why I…I quit trying. Because if putting me out of your life is going to keep you from…from hurting, then I’m okay with that. I’ve accepted it. I want you to know that. Your happiness comes first. It’s my top priority.”
“But I’m not okay with that,” Juliet replied quietly. “I’m not okay with…with your absence. I don’t want you out of my life. I never did.”
His eyes darted around for a moment. “Um. But I thought—I mean, you said—“
“I overreacted.”
“No. You really didn’t—“
“I—“
“No. You didn’t. You protected yourself, you stood up for yourself. You did what you felt was right under the circumstances and I had no right to try to stop you.”
“I forgive you, Eric.”
He stared at her, stunned. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily. “You do? No. I don’t want you to forgive me—“
“But I do. I do forgive you. Because I know you, Eric. And I know and I’ve accepted, deep in my heart, that you would never hurt me. I know this.” Then she smiled. “I’ve been going back to therapy. Twice a week. Dr. Thorne has really been a help.”
Eric smiled. “Jules, that’s great. I’m so proud of you.” Then he paused and he blinked. “Dr. Thorne?”
“Mmhm,” she nodded. “She’s really been opening my eyes to—“
“Leslie Thorne?”
“Yes. Anyway—“
“I’ll be damned…she’s my therapist, too.”
Now it was Juliet’s turn to be surprised. “You have a therapist?”
“I told you in a voicemail that I was making it right.”
“My therapist?”
“It explains so much…”
Juliet paused to think for a moment to reflect on recent sessions. The way Dr. Thorne squirmed at Eric’s name, the way she would “accidentally” bring up subjects they hadn’t discussed, yet. “I think she knows,” Juliet revealed.
“You think?”
“She must. She’s known all along.” Juliet shook her head and scoffed. “God, the way she jumped on the forgiveness wagon so fast. ‘Start with Eric,’ she encouraged. ‘He’s the easiest.’”
“So…she’s been rooting for us—“
“Manipulating us—“
“To find each other again. Maybe she…sees it.”
“It worked,” she whispered.
“I like her.”
“So do I.”
Eric ran a hand through his hair, then ran it along the back of the couch. “So…then we’re cool?”
Juliet smiled, amused. “If you want to be that casual about it, sure.”
“Just like that?”
“I’ve been having to come to terms with some things lately. And one of the biggest ones was…you. Because, honestly--really honestly,” suddenly she felt herself begin to choke up and she cleared her throat. “I’ve only ever known real happiness when I was with you. And why…why would I want to let something like that go? Over a…stupid little misunderstanding?”
His jaw dropped for a second and he blinked before recovering and replying with, “But it wasn’t a stupid little misunderstanding, it was a very big deal—“
“Don’t you get it, Eric? You make me happy. By just simply being you. And if anyone owes anyone an apology, here, I owe you one—“
“No. I won’t let you. And I won’t accept it.”
“I don’t care. But I’m apologizing anyway. For all the shit I’ve put you through and for being so difficult to deal with. You never deserved that.”
“I was impatient. And I pushed you—“
“And you were caring. And compassionate. And loyal and…safe. So dangerously safe. Look, Eric, I…I have a long way to go. I have a lot of shit to sort through. I don’t want you to be one of those things. I want to…to be with you. I want to be by your side, I want you to take this journey with me, I want…you to be there.”
Eric smiled nervously, reaching back and rubbing the back of his neck. “You, um—really? You do?”
“Yes.”
“Look, I understand that it’s going to take awhile to earn your trust back. But I will earn it back. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Now Juliet’s face fell. It fell because he spoke the truth that she didn’t want to admit. That while she had, indeed, forgiven him, her trust was a little more fragile. She still had that little voice in her head that asked her over and over, “Yeah, but did he mean it?”
Did he mean what, exactly? What he’d said? Or his apology?
“I never wanted it to be this way,” she whispered.
“I know,” he replied gently. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I take full responsibility—“
“I want to trust you. I do. I want to…forget the whole thing ever happened. I know you didn’t mean it, I know you’ll never hurt me, but a small part of me…”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Take all the time you need. I mean it.”
Suddenly, her throat began to tighten and tears sprang to her eyes. “It feels so wrong to feel this way. You’ve been nothing but good to me since we met. Why do I--? How could--?
“I understand. I’m going to make it up to you.”
“How did we become this messed up in such a short period of time?
Eric’s eyes fell and he let out a breath through his nose. “Because you and I,” he began, searching for the right words. “Are a lot alike in a lot of ways. We know what we want and we’ll stop at nothing to get it and sometimes…we lose sight of the consequences of our actions. I wanted…you and I was just—willing to do whatever it took to keep you that I ended up pushing you away, myself. I didn’t respect you the way I should have and I was impatient. And then you…you—you wanted me—on your terms which, under the circumstances, I just—I think we went in blind, with our own separate agendas and we talked about all the wrong things.”
“I want to start over,” she said quietly. “But I don’t know how. I know what I want, I just—“
“We can start slow. One day at a time, one step at a time, whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“What does that even mean?”
He smiled gently and he reached over and took her hand. The electricity that jolted through her body was like drugs coursing through her veins. “I’m gonna want to see you—and talk to you—a lot. I’m gonna want to take you to dinner and the theatre and…and anywhere else our imaginations will carry us. I’m gonna want to hold you and kiss you until you’re breathless and I’m gonna want to text you maybe fifty times a day. Because you’re all I want--all the time. But at the same time, I’m gonna want you to communicate openly with me. I’m gonna want you to tell me when it’s too much for you. I’m gonna want you to tell me when you need me to back off. I’m gonna want you to not freak out and disappear on me. Shutting down gets nothing accomplished. Okay?”
Juliet listened to his words. Drank them in. Tried her hardest to understand them. They were already so overwhelming, but all he was asking for was communication. That shouldn’t be difficult, right? After all, she had no problem spilling her guts on the first night, did she?
But this time, though, after everything they had been through…starting over made her nervous. Suddenly, her next session with Dr. Thorne couldn’t come fast enough.
She must have zoned out in her thoughts, because Eric tugged on her hand. “Jules?”
“No sex…” her voice trailed, the words flying out of her mouth before she’d had the chance to think them over.
Eric’s eyes darted deliberately into hers and he nearly choked. “No what? I mean, um…okay…”
More alert now, she straightened her spine. “Yes. No sex. Sex is the root of all evil.”
His jaw dropped and he blinked at her. “The root of all—first of all, money is the root of all evil. Not sex. And, babe—I don’t know who you’re in there screwing when you’re in bed with me, but what goes on in there under those sheets between you and me is the closest to God I’ve ever gotten in my life and there is absolutely nothing evil about it. Sinful, maybe. But not evil, not something that good. And don’t act like you’ve never screamed my name a time or two or three—“
“Eric—“
He scoffed. “No, it’s much louder than that.”
Juliet glared at him. “Focus. And listen to me. The night we met, we had sex. And then it went straight to shit immediately.”
“Come on,” he argued. “That was a stupid little misunderstanding.”
“And then the last time we had sex, we…we ended up here. Sex makes us miserable.”
“No. Our stupid decisions make us miserable. When we’re having sex, it’s like…a goddamn religious experience. You can’t act like you don’t feel that, too. There is nothing more right and true than the two of us together in that moment.”
She looked at him, her expression pained. This already wasn’t starting off well. He wasn’t understanding her. It almost seemed as if he wasn’t willing to understand. Was she making the wrong decision by wanting to start fresh with him?
“Eric,” she whispered, desperate to get through to him. “My entire life has been sex. My entire life.”
And there it was. It was as if she’d found his switch. Because, suddenly, the blood drained from his face and his eyes widened. He opened his mouth for a second and then closed it again. Finally, he spoke. “Oh, shit, babe. I’m doing it, aren’t I? I’m not listening. I’m being selfish and I’m not listening. I’m sorry. I really have to work on that.”
“I’m gonna want you to listen,” she smirked.
He swallowed hard and he took in a breath. “If you think that…that…god, I can’t even say it.”
“Eric,” she smiled.
“Okay. If you truly feel that abstinence or celibacy or any of those other horrific words is what is necessary for us to…to start over, then I’m willing to do that. For you.”
“For us,” she corrected.
“For you. Let’s not push it.”
“I just don’t want our relationship to be predominantly based on sex. I want to know that there’s more to us than that. Believe it or not, I really like you with your clothes on.”
He smiled, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Yeah? I like you with my clothes on.”
“Like right now?” She tested.
“Especially right now.”
“Tell me we can do this,” she said quietly. “Tell me we can date like teenagers. That we can hold hands and we can go to the movies. And that you can walk me to my door and kiss me goodnight and let me go to bed alone and swoon and dream about you all night. I never had that before. I want the dream.”
“Can I pass notes to you during meetings?”
“As long as you keep your hands to yourself.”
“You drive a hard bargain, you know that?”
“Just humor me for a little while?”
“I’ll do anything you want,” he smiled. “Under one condition.”
Juliet’s breath caught in her throat. No. This stuff was supposed to be unconditional, wasn’t it? Didn’t she just use “no sex” as a condition, though? This was getting so confusing. Her head began to dizzy a little. “What?” She creaked out.
“I desperately need you to kiss me,” he breathed with desire. “Right now.”
Kiss him? She hadn’t kissed him in two weeks. Since that day. Since…sex. Kissing led to sex. Once she kissed him, she knew she wouldn’t stop. His kiss was everything, it was her addiction. But hadn’t she just finished talking about goodnight kisses? That was what she said she wanted, right? But to kiss him, that would…that would be to touch him. And to want him and taste him and breathe him in. Did she have that much self-control, to take her own advice?
As if he read her mind, he smiled boyishly. “Come on. Aren’t you the one who said, and I quote, that my kiss is ‘everything?’”
She glanced up at him, her lips parting speechlessly.
“Just a kiss,” he said quietly. “Nothing more, I promise.”
And then she nodded her response while her heart nearly beat out of her chest. Untucking his foot from out from under him, he scooted over on the couch until his body was nearly pressed next to hers. Lifting his hand, he tucked her hair behind her ear and he searched her eyes before he made his move. And then he touched his lips to hers.
The second his soft lips met hers, she lost all sense of control, as predicted. Almost immediately, she opened her mouth and let him in and she turned her torso around so that she could wrap an arm around his neck and press herself into him. The blood rushed deliciously rampant through every vein in her body and her heart raced with an indiscernible mixture of excitement and fear. Before long, she found herself side-saddle on his lap and her fingers massaged his new haircut fiercely while her fist gripped a handful of material on his shoulder. With his arms wrapped tightly around her, enveloping her in his warmth and sincerity, she could have stayed like that forever. And she would have, had she not felt herself losing control.
Her lips trailed from his mouth to his cheek, along his perfect jaw and down to his neck. A sigh escaped him and his fingertips gripped her back before he whispered, “Jules.”
Finally, she buried her face in his neck and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Eric,” she said in a muffled whisper. “I’ve missed you so much. Please take me back. Please.”
His arms tightened around her, his hand running the length of her hair, sending chills down her spine. “Hey, that’s my line, isn’t it?”
“I don’t care whose line it is. But I’ll be so good to you. I want to be good to you.”
“Hey,” he said again. “You already are good to me. There is no other man on this planet who is luckier than I am.”
“Except Travis.”
“What?”
“He scored Beth,” she replied matter-of-factly. “And Beth is the absolute best person on the planet. No argument.”
“Maybe she’s the best for him,” he whispered. “But she’s not the best for me. She’s not you.”
She pulled away and she took a breath as she looked into his deep, sparkling blue eyes. Eyes that calmed and soothed her, eyes that were caring and sincere. “It’s growing very difficult for me to not—“
Suddenly, something changed in the room. The pair of them froze and they looked at each other for a moment. Then their eyes darted around. A pin dropping could be heard for their silence.
Juliet noticed it first. “The cable box has no lights.”
Eric looked up at the TV for a second before he dove for the remote on the coffee table and began pressing buttons. Nothing was happening.
Simultaneously, the pair of them jumped from the couch and began flipping light switches to no avail. Juliet ended up at the window and looked out onto the overcast city streets. “Shit,” she hissed. “It’s horrible out there. Does the news say anything about a blizzard or some type of storm? I thought they were only calling for snow?”
She turned around to find Eric already frantically searching his phone. Meanwhile, the reality of the situation was quickly making itself known and Juliet could already feel the temperature in the apartment dropping.
“There’s more on the way,” he murmured. “A quarter of the city is already out.” Then he let out a sigh and looked up. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you freeze.”
“I’m not worried about me,” she spat. “What if Loving Care lost power, too?”
Eric reacted immediately. “I’ll call the power company. You call Sandra. If they’re out, I have a generator that we can take over there.”
“There’s no way we can drive in this!”
“Call her,” he demanded.
Juliet didn’t waste any more time. A few minutes later, the pair reconvened in the living room. “Power company’s getting bombarded with calls,” Eric said. “There’s no definite ETA on anything, they’re fighting with the weather just like everyone else. What did Sandra say?”
“They’ve been out of power for over an hour and the forecast is showing another wave coming through. They have a fire in the fireplace, but with thirty or so kids involved, having enough wood is a concern. You know how these snow storms can get up here. They’ll need hot water to cook with, lights to see. She says they have a generator, but—“
“Mine’s bigger,” he said. “They’ll never survive more than half a day or so off the one they have now. If this is anything like the one several years ago, we could be out of power for days.”
“So what do we--?’
“Go in my room and pack a bag,” he commanded. “You’ll…probably need to pack a few extra changes of my clothes. My medical bag is under the sink in my bathroom. It’s black. Pack that, too. Then go in the linen closet and grab some blankets and pillows. Looks like we’ll be boarding there.”
“I don’t understand—“
“I gotta go down into the garage and load up the generator. I’ll come back up and get you. We’ll have to put chains on my tires if we even want to attempt to make it out of there. So when we get down there, I’m going to need your help. I’m going to need you to listen carefully to every single instruction I give you. Okay? Time is of the essence right now.”
In other words, she had to trust him. Her heart pounded in the wake of her nerves. Jesus, she had just gotten him back. Now was not the time for an anxiety attack.
But as she watched him throw on his coat and grab his keys, listening to his boots pound deliberately against the kitchen tile, she had never been more proud of him. Of her man. Of her knight in shining armor.