Page 65 of A Merry Irish Christmas
‘Oh, yeah.’ She nodded, every nerve in her body tingling and aching to keep doing what they were doing.
Evan swallowed hard. ‘I mean, that’s not what you want, right? You said we shouldn’t…’ He looked pained.
‘No, you’re right.’ She climbed off him, even as every atom of her being protested. ‘We should stop.’ She felt bereft and more than a little embarrassed as she adjusted her clothing, but grateful to him for the reminder that she’d been the one to stipulate that they shouldn’t sleep together. This wasn’t a rejection. He was simply respecting her wishes, making sure she didn’t do something she’d regret in the heat of the moment.
It was the right thing to do, even though neither of them wanted to right now. Tomorrow, when things had cooled off, she’d be glad he’d called a halt. Mary wasn’t cut out for casual flings or one-night stands. When she had sex with someone, she liked it to mean something. It would be all too easy to get hung up on Evan, especially if he was as good at sex as he was at kissing – and after their make-out session she had no doubt he would be. She’d had enough heartache for one year. He might end up getting back together with Olivia, and how would she feel then if they’d slept together? And even if he didn’t, he was only here for a couple of days and what were the chances he’d want to see her again once they were back in New York in their own little worlds?
‘It’s hard to stop, right?’ Evan shifted uncomfortably, the visible evidence of his arousal leaving her in no doubt that he wanted to continue just as much as she did. She loved him for acknowledging that they were both in the same place, dispelling any awkwardness between them.
She smiled at him. ‘I don’t know how we used to do it.’
They sat side by side, adjusting clothing and smoothing hair as their breathing returned to normal.
‘Do you want to watchDie Hard, or call it a night?’ Mary asked finally.
‘No, I’m up for watchingDie Hard.’
‘Yippee-ki-yay,’ Mary murmured as she picked up the remote and clicked on the TV.
Later, when Mary had gone to bed, Evan called Josh.
‘Hey, man! How are you doing? How’s Oirland?’ his friend asked, putting on an execrable Irish accent.
‘Ireland is… full of surprises.’ He smiled and settled back against the sofa cushions.
‘Good Christmas?’
‘Yeah.’ Evan smiled. ‘Really good, actually.’
‘Seriously?’ Josh sounded sceptical.
‘Yes, seriously. You?’
‘Yeah, it was great. Wish you’d been here, though. Oscar doesn’t get the whole Santa Claus thing yet, of course, but he was very excited about tearing up all the wrapping paper, and he absolutely loves that ball pit you got him. He went crazy in it – it was so cute. We could hardly get him out of it all day. I wish you could have seen it.’
Evan hesitated a moment before asking, ‘Do you?’
‘Sorry? Do I what?’
He swallowed. He felt like an idiot asking, but suddenly he really wanted to know if Mary was right. ‘Do you wish I’d been there?’
‘Of course!’ Josh’s confusion at the question was evident – and reassuring. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘I dunno.’ Evan ran a hand through his hair. He felt like a chump now and wished he hadn’t said anything. ‘Because it’s Christmas, I guess?’
‘And? We get together on all the other big holidays. Why would Christmas be any different? It’s just another day.’
It was what he was always saying. Maybe he’d been the one treating it like a big deal all along. ‘It just is. Christmas is about family, isn’t it?’
‘So? You’re family. You know that. Jeez, is this why you turn down our invitation every year and flee the city – because you think we don’t really want you around? Where would you even get that idea? You know, when your plans with Olivia fell through at the last minute, Amy and I were all excited that maybe you’d finally spend Christmas here with us.’
‘You were?’
‘Yeah. I mean, we’re trying not to take it too personally that you’d fly halfway across the world to avoid spending the day with us.’
‘You know it’s not that. I just thought I should… give you some space, I guess.’
‘We don’t want space. We hate to think of you spending Christmas off somewhere all on your own where you don’t know anyone.’
