Page 17 of Mine for the Holidays
“Is there something you aren’t telling us?” Delaney asks when she holds her aunt at arm’s length and scrutinizes her. “This cruise. Now Tinder. You’re actually starting to worry me here.”
“Oh, child. I’ve just realized that time is getting away from me and I don’t feel like I’ve had enough fun. I’m old and I’m eccentric, so now is the best time toactlike it. Live your best life is what the young kids say, right?” She looks to me for confirmation, and I nod.
“As long as that’s all it is.”
“I promise you,” Joan says, placing a comforting hand on Delaney’s arm. “Now, your father and mother are just off checking in all of our luggage so we can move through to the boarding area. You two should probably go and do that yourselves and meet me back here.”
“I’ll go,” I volunteer, leaning down to pick up both mine and Delaney’s bags from where they sit on the ground. “You two stick together. It’s easy to find Delaney in a crowd.”
“Because I’m so big?” she snaps, her eyes flashing and exciting me at the same time.
“No, gorgeous. Because of your red hair,” I say, giving it a gentle pull before I lean in and kiss her on the cheek, giving her a final wink before I step away. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Take your time, my love,” she shoots back, giving me a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.Something tells me this cruise is going to be a lot more fun than I thought it would be.
Delaney
We’re welcomed onto the ship with a string quartet playing Christmas music and servers offering glasses of champagne, whiskey or eggnog. The festive season is all around us, and Nate laughs at me because I keep craning my neck looking at all the decorations and displays. He has to keep steering me through the crowd, so I don’t bump into anybody. But I can't help it, Christmas is my favorite time of year.
I did wonder if being on a tropical cruise would make it feel less like the holiday, but after seeing the splendor around us, I have to think this could very well turn out to be the best Christmas I’ve ever had. All of my family is in one spot, and the man I'm crushing hard-core on is by my side.
Now all I need is a miracle. And Christmas is the perfect time for them, right? If somehow Saint Nick himself wants to smile down on me and give me a clue as to how I win Nate's heart, then I will be forever grateful. Because despite the ‘keep it business’ line on the dock, my attraction levels are at least ten times higher than they were at Thanksgiving. I don’t know how it happened, but I swear that man got better looking. Ineedhim in my life. I just need to work out how to go about it. Our circumstances aren’t normal. If I could wish for one thing this Christmas, I’d like to get my man and escape my family unjudged—which is why I need the miracle.
By the time we get into our room, it’s almost time for dinner. My face hurts from smiling so much and my stomach aches from wanting so much. Having Nate glued to my side being so attentive has been intoxicating. But I’ve noticed there’s this wall up around him now that wasn’t there before. I gives me a deep-seated longing for the ability to turn back time and redo Thanksgiving with different intentions, but the line has been cast now, and I guess I have to work with the fish I caught.Ugh.That’s a horrible analogy, but I think we all get the gist—I’ve got regret over the last time we were together. I’ve got longing from the time in between. And now I don’t know where to start since Nate, despite his acting abilities and attentiveness, still seems pissed at me. The words, ‘let’s just keep things professional this time’keep ringing in my ears and casting doubt over my hopefulness.
What if I don’t want to keep things professional?
What if I want things to get dirty like they did last time? I could say the right name this time and everything…
Feeling the familiar tightening in my belly that occurs every time I think about him touching me like that, I close my eyes for a second and sit on the edge of the bed to take my shoes off. We have to get ready for dinner soon, and I’m not really ready to face my family again just yet. I love them all, but an afternoon spent touring the ship and talking non-stop has me exhausted. I’d like to curl up on this bed and just sleep until I don’t feel tired anymore.Wait. Do I hear…snoring?
Opening my eyes, I find Nate stretched out on the couch, napping like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His long, muscular frame too big for the space he’s using, but somehow, he seems completely comfortable and at ease.How is it that I miss him even though he was never mine?
Letting out a sigh, I put my feet on the plush carpet and wriggle my toes. Aunty Joan got us a suite with a balcony, a full-sized bathroom, and walk-in closet. With the lush furnishings and the perfect view, I’m feeling rather spoiled, indeed.
Forcing myself back into my sore feet, I make my way into the walk-in and find our suitcases in there, sitting on the plush sea-blue bench seat that adorns the center. As I unzip mine, my eyes stray to Nate’s. I don’t know why, but I have this itch to see what he has in there. Is it all board shorts and Hawaiian shirts? Or did he pack for every possibility?
The thought rattles around in my mind as I fill the racks and drawers with my possessions and slide the empty suitcase into the provided slot beneath the shoe rack on my side. So by the time I’ve finished, I’ve convinced myself that unpacking for him as well is just a kind thing to do.
“It’s notsnooping,” I say to myself as I pull open the zip on his duffel. “It’s helping.”
One by one, I remove the clothing from his bag, hanging up his dress shirts and pants—points for thinking about dinner attire—and placing his casual wear and boxers in the drawers. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hold his soft white T-shirt to my nose and inhale his scent, letting it flow through my body along with the memory of what he tasted and felt like when I took him into my mouth.My clit aches just thinking about it.
Pulling out his shoes, I pause when I find the folder I gave him during our first meeting on the bottom. When I take it out and flip through it, he’s printed out and added the suggestions and anecdotes I emailed through, along with some handwritten notes of his own:takes two sugars in her coffee. Doesn’t seem to like green beans or pumpkin pie even though she’s the one who brought it. Talks in her sleep. Favorite color?My heart swells as I read his words, freezing when I find a comment further down the page,doesn’t think she’s lovable.
Instantly tears prickle my eyes at the confronting words, and I put the folder back inside, not wanting to risk reading anymore. There’s a saying about opinions—everyone has one, and what’s theirs doesn’t belong to you. I don’t need or want to know what he secretly thinks of me. If it turns out he agrees with that statement, well, I don’t think I could even try to pretend with him then.
Just as I tuck the folder away in the duffel, a hard plastic tube rolls sideways and taps me on the hand. For a brief moment, I wonder why Nate would bring a flashlight on a cruise.Is he afraid of the dark?But then I pick it up and notice it has a cap. My breath catches. I know what it is before I remove the lid, but still, I take the damn thing off and find myself face to er….vulva of a fleshlight.
Oddly, I contemplate putting my fingers inside it to see how similar to the real thing it actually is. I’ve never seen one up close before, but before I can make a decision on that, the clearing of a throat causes me to yelp and spin around.
“Nate!” My eyes go wide as I meet his, the embarrassing evidence still in my hand and open. “I-I…I thought you were sleeping?” I do my best to act normal as I cap it and shove it behind my back.
“What do you have there, Delaney?” he asks with a smirk. My cheeks flame.
“Absolutely nothing,” I squeak, trying to laugh it off.
“Nothing?” He lifts his brows and glances over my shoulder, which is where a big full-length mirror adorns the wall.Oh shit. Forgot about that.
