Christmas Ever After Read online

  “That’s great. He’s so lucky to have you.”

  “I’m lucky to have him. You’ll be next.” It was a throwaway comment and Sky almost said something but Brittany had her head down, texting Zach.

  Sky slid out of the car. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safely.”

  Brittany pulled away with a wave and Sky picked up her bag and walked to the door feeling lonelier than she ever had in her life before.

  ALEC STARED AT the closed door to his garden room.

  If Sky was working, he didn’t want to disturb her. On the other hand she’d come back from a morning with Emily and vanished without saying a word and that was unlike her.

  From the moment he’d rescued her—she’d kill him if she knew he thought of it as a rescue—from the gallery in London, she’d filled his world with bubbly conversation.

  She overflowed with thoughts and ideas.

  It was like living with a bottle of champagne that had been shaken around before someone had popped the cork. She was almost always upbeat and positive, she rarely whined and she saw the funny side of almost everything.

  He’d learned that just because she was in a room with him, didn’t mean she needed or wanted conversation.

  Often she was away in her own world, thinking or drawing.

  Her drawings were everywhere, left on every available surface of his cottage. Some were of jewelry, intricate in the detail, others were landscapes.

  The scope of her talent never ceased to amaze him.

  He stared at the garden room.

  It was the first time he’d known her to close a door.

  Had her parents called? Richard?

  He still couldn’t believe the guy hadn’t once called to see how she was. If nothing else, it would have given her the chance to hang up on him.

  He respected that closed door for two hours after dark and then picked up a bottle of wine and two glasses.

  Opening the door, he saw her curled up on the window seat staring into the darkness. “Sky?”

  “Hi.” She turned her head and he saw the dark shadows under her eyes.

  “Why are you sitting in the dark?” He flicked on a lamp with his free hand and then set the bottle and glasses down. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why should anything be wrong?”

  “Because you’re like a bottle of soda that’s been left with the cap off. You’ve lost your fizz.”

  She stirred. “It’s nothing.”

  He wondered how it was that after only a short time together he knew she wasn’t telling the truth. “I thought we agreed never to lie to each other.”

  “All right, it’s something, but it’s a stupid something.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I can’t.”

  It shouldn’t bother him that she wouldn’t tell him, but it did.

  “Is it about your parents?”

  “No.” There was something small and fragile about her. Because she was so energetic and bouncy she normally seemed bigger than she was, but curled up on his window seat she just seemed vulnerable.

  “So what’s wrong?” He poured wine into both glasses and handed her one. “Is it about Emily being pregnant?”

  “You know about that?”

  “Ryan told me. I’m not supposed to mention it, but there was no way Emily wouldn’t have told you so I guessed that instruction didn’t include you. Are you worrying about her?”

  “A bit.” She sipped her wine and he studied her face, looking for clues.

  “Shall we invite them over? It would give you a chance to talk to each other.”

  “She has Ryan. Things are different.”

  Something in her tone caught his attention. “Different how?”

  She gave him a wan smile. “Everything’s changing. And I feel … weird.” She shook her head and looked out of the window. “Ignore me. I’m feeling all sorts of stupid things. Selfish things. Go and work for a bit longer. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in an hour and we can play raid-the-fridge.” She’d given him an opening to leave, but instead of walking through the door he sat down next to her.

  “Hey, I wrote the manual on selfish and I can tell you, you don’t feature in it. And feelings are never stupid, they’re feelings.” Gently he removed the glass from her hand. “I hate seeing you upset. I may not be as good a listener as Brittany or Emily, but I can try. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Our relationship is about sex. You’re breaking your own rules.”

  It was true, but still he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Instead he put his arm round her. “Talk to me.”

  She turned and pressed her face in his chest. “Shit. Look at me. Crazy person. Push me away. Kick my butt. Whatever you do don’t be kind to me. If you’re kind, I’ll cry and I’ll drown you in emotion so fast you won’t have time to call the emergency services.”

  He smiled. “I’m a good swimmer. I can handle deep water.” He lifted his hand and stroked her hair. “What’s changing, sweetheart?”

  He felt her tense and then she eased back and stared miserably at the middle of his chest.

  “Our friendship. It’s been the three of us for so long. The three of us against the world.”

  “The three musketeers.”

  “At college we used to joke that we were like a three-legged chair. If one of us left, the others would crash to the ground. We were always looking out for each other.”

  “As far as I can see you’re still looking out for each other.”

  “But Em has Ryan and Brittany has Zach. It’s different. And it’s not that I’m not pleased for them, because I am, but if I’m totally, truly honest I’m a little bit sorry for me. I miss talking to them.” Her voice sounded clogged and he eased her back into his arms.

  “Why can’t you talk to them?”

  “Because they have their heads full of other things and they don’t need to hear me bleating.”

  “If they knew you were upset—”

  “Who said I was upset?” She sniffed. “I’m not upset.”

  “What do you want to talk to them about?” He rubbed her arms gently and felt her still.

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing, Sky. Something must have brought this on. Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

  “No.” Her voice was muffled. “I can’t. It’s too—personal.”

  “Sweetheart, we are way past personal. After everything we’ve shared over the past few weeks I would have thought you could tell me anything.” Amused, he tried to ease her away from him but she had her fingers bunched in the front of his shirt.

  “Not this.”

  He frowned, wondering what “this” was.

  “Want me to get them on the phone? Invite them for supper?”

  “No.” She pulled away and sniffed. “But thank you for offering. I’m being stupid. I know you can’t freeze time. I know life has to change and I’m pleased for them, really I am, but—”

  “Change is always unsettling.”

  “Not to you.” Her indrawn breath was unsteady. “You’re the sort of person who throws a saddle on change and rides it into the sunset yelling ‘yee-haw.’”

  “For me, the fear is being in one place. And I’ve never yelled ‘yee-haw’ in my life.”

  “You should add it to your bucket list.” She slid off the window seat and stood up. “Don’t say anything to them. I don’t want them to know. I need to work this through by myself. It’s inevitable that our friendship is going to change, and we all have to find our way through that. It’s funny, because through my adult life we’ve always been there for each other. When my parents do something irritating, I call Em or Brit. When I’m dumped by a boy, I call them.”

  “A boy dumped you? Tell me his name and I’ll steal his lunch money.”

  She smiled. “There is nothing you can do. I have to accept that I’m no longer the first person they’re going to call when there’s a problem.” She paused. “And that they won’t necessarily be available to listen
when I have a problem. It doesn’t mean that we’re not still close, just that things are different.”

  “I’m available and I’m listening. Tell me the problem.” He was surprised by how much he wanted her to confide in him.

  He wondered why she wouldn’t.

  And then suddenly he knew.

  He was the problem. She wanted to talk to her friends about him. And that was the reason she couldn’t talk to him.

  She shook her head. “That isn’t what our relationship is about.”

  His mouth felt dry. “Is there a definition for our relationship?”

  “Yes. It’s physically based. Fun. No emotional ties. Angst-free. We are the diet version of a relationship. Relationship-lite. Nonfat. Call it what you like.”

  He had no idea what to call it.

  No idea what to do in this situation.

  All he knew was that he didn’t want to make her unhappy, but it seemed he was managing to do that without trying.

  “How about friendship?” he said softly. “Can we call it that?” He saw her swallow and look away.

  “Yes.” Her voice was barely audible. “We can call it that.” LATER, AFTER A meal they’d thrown together and eaten in the kitchen, they lay on the rug watching the snow drift past the windows.

  Sky leaned her head on Alec’s chest, feeling his arms tighten. “I need to go and tidy your garden room.”

  “Why?”

  “My mess is strewn everywhere.”

  “It isn’t mess, it’s your work.”

  The only light came from the flickering fire and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree.

  “You’re very patient.”

  He laughed. “You’re the only one who thinks so. You’re a talented artist. Ever thought about doing more of that and less jewelry?”

  “I like mixing it up. I like variety. Next time I’m in London I’m going to go to the National Gallery and see the Turner you talked about.”

  “You live in New York. You have plenty of your own galleries. Do you ever go to the Met?”

  “Of course. All the time.”

  “Favorite painting?”

  She smiled. “That’s easy. Portrait of Madame X.”

  He nodded. “John Singer Sargent. He thought it was possibly his best work.”

  “You know it?” Yet again, he surprised her. “There were already nudes, but that painting created a huge scandal.” She lifted herself onto her elbow so that she could look at him. “It was the dress and the way she held herself, she was sexy. I love that painting.”

  “I confess I’ve only ever seen it in pictures.”

  She opened her mouth to say that she’d take him and then realized that an invitation like that was out of place in their relationship so she lay back down and snuggled close. “This is perfect. I wouldn’t care if we were snowed in for a month.”

  She wished they would be, because then she’d be trapped with him and she’d have more time.

  “You’d miss Christmas with your friends.”

  “Staying here would be the perfect Christmas for me.”

  Crap. She shouldn’t have said that.

  Now he was probably thinking he’d never be able to get rid of her. That she’d broken their deal.

  She kissed him, desperate not to let him speak. She didn’t want to hear him remind her that this was supposed to be lighthearted fun and nothing more. She didn’t want him to remind her that after Christmas they probably wouldn’t meet up again for several months and when they did it would be as nothing more than casual friends.

  She slid her hand over his chest and unbuttoned his shirt.

  He raised an eyebrow, his hard features softened by a smile. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m being bad. Let’s just hope Santa isn’t watching or I’ll be put on the naughty list.” She opened his shirt and kissed her way down his body, dealing with the snap of his jeans.

  She freed him and heard the soft hiss of his breath.

  “Sky—”

  “I can’t think of anything I’d rather find under the Christmas tree. Merry Christmas, Alec.” She slid her mouth over him, over velvet and steel, felt hard hands grip her shoulders and then sink into her hair.

  In a smooth movement he rolled her onto her back, trapping her with the weight of his body.

  For a moment he stared down at her and then he lowered his head and all she could feel was the hot glide of his tongue and the hard heat of his body.

  He eased his hand under her hips, his mouth still on hers.

  It was like being caught in white water. She was swept away, engulfed, submerged by the power of her own feelings.

  She felt the ripple of muscle under her fingers and the swell of emotion in her heart.

  Dizzy, disorientated, the words floated to the surface.

  I love you.

  I love you.

  The need to say it aloud was so great that she turned her face into his bicep, mouthing the words against the hard swell of muscle.

  I love you.

  His rhythm didn’t alter and with each skilled thrust of his body he drove her higher until the pleasure reached screaming pitch.

  He caught her face in his hand and looked down at her, kissing her, sharing every breath, every quiver, every trembling rippling contraction, exposing all her secrets. Except one.

  That one remained inside her. Just.

  As the ripples of pleasure gradually eased, she closed her eyes, shaken by how close she’d come to saying it aloud.

  The thought of how he would have reacted made her dizzy with horror.

  She’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

  Worst of all, he’d feel sorry for her.

  What if it slipped out in the future?

  What if he noticed something in her eyes? She’d always been hopeless at hiding her feelings.

  And even if she somehow managed it, did she really want to live like that, subduing everything?

  He rolled onto his back, gathering her against him. “What are you thinking?”

  She was thinking about him.

  Her mind kept circling round all the reasons that she shouldn’t feel this way and it always came back to one thing.

  He didn’t want what she wanted. And if he knew the truth he’d feel bad about himself again. He’d blame himself. He’d feel as if he were somehow responsible. There was no way she was doing that to him.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SKYLAR LAY IN bed with her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep until she felt Alec get up and heard him move into the study.

  The temptation to stay in his bed and never move again was great, but she knew that wasn’t an option open to her.

  Forcing her limbs out of the bed, she dressed quickly and pushed her clothes into a suitcase. If she was going to do this, she needed to do it now. The longer it lasted, the harder it would be.

  To make sure she couldn’t change her mind, she made two phone calls.

  The first was to her parents.

  The second was to Pete, who ran the local cab firm.

  She carried her case downstairs, then poured herself a cup of fortifying coffee before going in search of Alec. It was the first time she’d disturbed him while he was working.

  Her knees shook. Her palms felt sweaty. Because she had never felt less like smiling, she compensated by doubling the size of her smile.

  “Good morning.” She placed a mug of coffee on his desk. “Sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to say goodbye before I leave.”

  “Are you going to see Emily?”

  “No. I’m going home.”

  “Home? Home to your parents?” The shock in his voice threw her.

  “Yes.” She shrugged. “It’s Christmas. If I don’t go home it will make things worse than they already are. And they’re still my family even though they’re far from perfect.”

  “But you’d made the decision to stay here.” He put his pen do
wn. “You’ve always wanted to spend Christmas with your friends.”

  “Maybe next year. Right now Em and Brittany are both wrapped up in their new lives. They won’t miss me.”

  There was a long, loaded silence.

  “What if I said I’d miss you?”

  Her heart felt like a lead weight in her chest. “Oh, come on, Alec. We both know what this was. Just fun, right? Great sex, a few laughs and no strings or promises on either side.”

  His level gaze was disconcerting. “So that’s it?”

  What else was there?

  One day, maybe, there would be real friendship but right now she wasn’t sure she could cope with a half measure of something she’d rather take as an overdose.

  “Next time I’m on the island I’ll send you a text and we can hook up for a drink or something.” Knowing she had to get out of there, she walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for everything, Alec. You’ve been a real friend. I owe you.” Before she could step back he clamped his arm round her waist and pulled her back to him.

  “Wait.” His voice was thickened. “This is sudden.”

  “Not really.”

  “It’s sudden. And it doesn’t feel right. What aren’t you telling me? Did your parents call again? Did they say something?”

  “Yes. And it was awkward.” Better for him to think that than know the truth. “And I really need to go home and clear the air.”

  “Is Zach flying you?”

  “No. I don’t want Emily and Brittany to know because they’ll try to talk me out of it. I’m taking the ferry.”

  “I’ll drive you to the ferry.”

  And she’d be trapped in the car with him, in that close, secluded intimacy that would somehow make her feelings feel huge. “No need. Pete is on his way.”

  “You called Pete? Why?”

  “Because you have a deadline.”

  “I would have driven you.”

  She eased away from him. “I probably won’t see you before you go to Antarctica, so have a great trip. Post some photos. I’m following you on Twitter and Instagram now, along with half the female population.”

  “Sky—”

  “I hear Pete.” Choked, she grabbed her case and walked quickly to the door. “You should probably spend Christmas Eve at Harbor House because there’s another storm forecast and you don’t want to be snowed in here with no turkey.”