Once we got cleaned up, I finally called my parents to make sure they were really okay with me missing Christmas with them. My mom reassured me it was perfectly fine. At first I was confused about her complete one eighty until I pieced together she was tickled pink that I was cooped up with Grant. I'm sure she wanted nothing more than for Grant and me to have a real relationship. I knew her too well and in her mind she saw it as a way to get me back to Woodfalls on a permanent basis. I hung up the phone, reassuring her I would call again tomorrow and then again on Christmas Day.
Grant and I finally made an appearance downstairs in the late afternoon when Doc Jones came by to check on my ankle. It was still horrifically swollen and more discolored than the day before, but I turned down more of his happy pills, settling for ibuprofen instead. He stuck around for dinner, which was steaming bowls of stew and homemade bread followed by cherry cobbler. During dinner, I learned the three other couples knew each other. They were older than we were and had no family to speak of, so they spent the holidays at Maggie's Bed and Breakfast every year.
"It's because her cooking is out of this world," one of the husbands said, winking at Maggie, who blushed.
"Even if I do set a few fires," Maggie joked, clearing the table. The rest of us laughed as we headed out to the living room with the coffee Maggie had prepared.
Doc Jones excused himself after one cup. "I'll come check on you again tomorrow."
"You don't have to. It's Christmas Eve," I protested.
"Darling, why do you think I'll be coming by? I'm hoping Maggie will invite me over for Christmas Eve dinner," he said, winking at me as Maggie came in drying her hands on her apron.
"Oh, posh. You know you're always invited. Aunt June and Uncle Tim wouldn't have it any other way," Maggie said, walking him to the door.
After Doc left, the rest of us sat around chatting well into the night. The other couples were all hilarious as they regaled us with their own mishaps over the years. Grant kept an arm around me the entire evening, like he was afraid I would disappear if he didn't hold me. I didn't mind at all, especially since his fingers played with the hairs at the back of my neck the entire time. Maggie noticed our closeness and gave me a wink when no one was looking. I returned her grin enjoying the moment.
Retiring for the evening, Grant and I made love for the third time on the plush carpet in front of the fireplace in our room. Unlike the previous two times, this was more of a sensual dance as we used our hands and mouths to explore each other's bodies and discover our hidden pleasures.
The next morning the sun was shining brightly for the first time in three days. I bathed solo in the tub as Grant washed my hair while I worried about keeping my bandaged foot dry. Once we were dressed, he carried me downstairs and deposited me in the living room, claiming there were a few things he needed to do. Perplexed but also intrigued, I let him have his secrets while I helped Maggie prepare some of the food for the evening. We had learned the night before that Maggie hosted a Christmas Eve party for friends and family members before they all headed off to midnight mass. She put out a buffet spread that everyone else contributed dishes to as well.
Maggie turned on Christmas carols while we worked. Even though I wasn't home in Woodfalls, it still helped make it feel special. I even found myself humming along. It was funny to think that like a Scrooge, I had fought my mom tooth and nail about coming home for Christmas. I had my reasons, but none of them seemed to matter as much anymore. That was the irony of Christmas this year. Now that I really wanted to be home, I couldn't get there. Sitting in Maggie's kitchen preparing cake pops and decorating Christmas cookies, I was reminded of the true importance of Christmas. It was all about spending time with loved ones. The essence of Christmas was happiness and togetherness. I would never forget that again. >"Oh, yeah. We've been coming here for ten years, and I think Maggie has had a fire five of those years," she said, laughing again. "I was still snoozing when the alarm went off this time. Thank god my husband, Jim, heard it since I sleep like the dead. I wish he would have had the foresight to tell me to grab my shoes though," she said, pointed down to her stocking-clad feet.
I nodded my head absentmindedly. The sirens were getting louder, but I was more concerned that it seemed to be taking Grant so long. The rest of the residents didn't seem overly concerned as they chatted among themselves, but I was still a worried. Just when I was ready to hobble in after him, the first fire truck turned down the narrow lane in front of the inn. At the same moment, Grant came out from the house followed by a sheepish-looking Maggie, who was coughing from the smoke.
"Not again, Maggie," one of the firemen said, climbing down from the rig. "Is it out?"
"It was just a small one, Hank," Maggie said, shooting a guilty look at her guests.
"What did we tell you about using your gas stove?" he asked as the other men from the fire truck headed inside to make sure the fire was indeed out. Peering through the door, I could tell most of the smoke had already started to thin out.
"What happened?" I asked Grant as Maggie trailed in after the firemen.
"Grease fire. Maggie had it out by the time I made it in there, but the kitchen was already filled with smoke. We opened the back door and the kitchen windows to let it blow out," he said, taking my hand so I wasn't so wobbly. "I guess it's happened before. Maggie likes to keep the bacon grease on the stove, but she forgets to turn off the heat under it.
I laughed. I had worked long enough in the cooking field to know her mistake.
"Well, at least Maggie seems to be a pro at dealing with it," I said, watching the firemen head back out. Hank was still reprimanding Maggie, telling her he'd have to give her a citation the next time they had to come out. Maggie listened to him solemnly, nodding her head in all the appropriate spots. Once the fire truck pulled away, Maggie turned to me with the same mischievous grin I had seen the day before.
"Sorry about the early morning wake-up call, folks. The good news is breakfast is ready for those who haven't eaten and the cookies in the oven were saved before disaster struck," she said good-naturedly, leading the way back into the house. Everyone laughed with her, relieved it was nothing more serious. That, and we really wanted to get back inside. There were far too many chattering teeth as everyone stomped their feet in the cold. At least the snow had finally stopped, but the wind was still blowing around.
"Your chariot waits," Grant said, lifting me up. "I think I'm getting used to this."
"Fine by me," I teased. My eyes met his and I knew we were both thinking about our kiss and everything else that was about to happen before the ruckus. His eyes darkened while his grip on me tightened. "You want to go back upstairs?" he asked. I knew what he was asking. If we went upstairs, we would be continuing where we left off. He was giving me a chance to put on the brakes, but it wasn't necessary. I was as ready as he was.
I nodded my head, running my hand over the light-colored five o'clock shadow covering the lower half of his face. I liked this rugged look he was sporting. I continued to explore his face, taking time to trace my finger over his lip as he carried me back to our room. He startled me by sucking the finger into his mouth. My stomach tightened with desire as his tongue swirled sensually around my finger. I turned my head to see how close we were to our room. Sensing my urgency, he picked up his pace.
Our door was still open from when we left earlier, but Grant kicked it closed behind us and reached back to make sure it was locked. "I don't want to hurt your ankle," he said, looking at my wrapped foot.
"You won't," I said. At the moment, that was the last thing on my mind. My desire for him had intensified to the point of no return. I had dreamed about this moment for a long time. As he lowered me to the bed, I remembered something I wanted to ask him. "What did you mean when you said you'd been thinking about kissing me for a long time?" I asked as he pulled off my boot and climbed up on the bed with me. Taking care not to jar my ankle, he positioned me on my side so we were facing each other.
He scooted close, running a hand from my shoulder down to my hand before lacing our fingers together. He brought my hand to his mouth so he could place his lips on my knuckles before answering me. "Jams, surely you know I've had a thing for you half my life?" he said, placing a hot kiss on my wrist.
"No, you haven't," I argued. Did I really need to remind him of all the relentless teasing he had put me through during my formative years?
"Didn't you get the hint when I dipped your braid in paint in second grade?" he asked, scooting my shirtsleeve up so he could trail his lips up my forearm. I shifted closer to him with my desire at full force. Sensing my needs, he lifted my good leg and eased his own leg between me, bringing us practically on top of each other. I couldn't help moving against him. He was driving me nuts with his slow patient pace.
"You hated me," I said, finally finding my voice since our slow grinding motion was distracting me.