Christine Rimmer - Married Till Christmas

Nell’s issues weren’t nearly so bad. But it was no fun, what went on in her family. When her dad’s first wife died, he’d married her mother and moved Willow into the house he’d built for wife number one. Nell had still been living at home then, so she’d moved, too. It was awful, going home to the house that had belonged to her father’s first wife, to her resentful half sister Elise and Elise’s best friend, Tracy, who had been taken in by Elise’s mom years before, when Tracy’s parents died suddenly. Elise always acted so prissy and ladylike. However, being ladylike didn’t stop her from coming up with new ways to torture Nell. It was a war in the Bravo mansion back in those days, a war in which Nell fought just as dirty as Elise.

But sometimes, even though you don’t believe it could ever happen when life is crappy, things do get better. It had for Elise and Nell. Now, she and Elise were tight. They would do anything for each other. Too bad they didn’t know back then how it would all work out.

It was the same with loving Deck, really. She’d been so happy with him in high school. Looking back, she was glad she hadn’t known how it would turn out with him. She’d had no clue that he would shatter her poor heart and that it would take her forever to recover from losing him.

Like that ancient Garth Brooks song that her mother used to love, where life was a dance and if you’d known ahead of time how bad a loss was going to be, you might have just said no to whatever was destined to break your heart.

But if you said no to love, you would miss the dance.

And, really, now that she was over it, over him, she could let herself admit that the dance of their young love had been pretty damn spectacular.

She could honestly say now, at last, after all these years, that she wouldn’t have missed loving Deck for the world.

As for this brief, thoroughly magical reunion they were sharing? No way would she have wanted to miss this, either.

She tipped her head back to look at him.

His eyes were open, watching, waiting.

She offered her mouth and he took it.

The magic began again.

And when he got the condom from the bedside drawer, she took it from him, rolling it down over him. He rose above her, his eyes gleaming almost golden in the light from the lamp.

He came into her and she took him, deep and true. She wrapped her whole body around him and they moved together, in perfect rhythm, all the way to the top of the world and over into free fall.

She called his name, among other things. She had no idea what crazy words came out of her mouth as her body pulsed around him.

All she knew was that it was perfect, this moment. This last dance together with the boy she’d once loved beyond all reason.

He wasn’t that boy anymore. And she was no longer the girl who had given her heart and trusted him not to break it.

Which was fine. As it should be.

And this, tonight, was just what she’d needed, a Las Vegas fling with the grown-up Deck McGrath.

* * *

In the gray light of the next morning, he reached for her. She melted into him. They made love, sweet and slow.

After the loving, they ordered room service. They had breakfast in bed and then made love again. They took a long bath. Together.

And made love again.

More than half the day had passed and all they’d done was eat breakfast and take a bath—oh, and the lovemaking. Lots and lots of lovemaking. She was dizzy with it, swept away into a beautiful, sensual dream, a private fantasy, a lush, secret world containing just the two of them.

By late afternoon, he let her go down to her room. But only long enough to shower, put on a little makeup and get dressed. He was at her door a half an hour after she’d left his suite.

He started kissing her. No surprise where that led.

Finally, they both agreed they needed to get out, have some dinner. The big bed would be right there waiting for them when they returned.

She put her dress back on. He ordered a car and off they went to an Italian place he knew about. The food was wonderful and there was a really nice Chianti. Maybe she had a little more of that than she should have.

They got back in the limo.

Deck shut the privacy screen between them and the driver. They glided up and down the strip, making love. Even through the tinted windows, the bright lights reached them and played a symphony of color across their naked skin.

There was champagne. Dom Pérignon.

“When did you order champagne?” she asked, sitting there naked, feeling satisfied, shimmery all over, somehow. It was really quite wonderful.

He said, “You are so beautiful, Sparky. Bold and strong and so damn smart. More than any man deserves in this life. There is no one, no one, like you.”

His words poured over her. They made her feel special. Treasured. Loved.

He never did answer about the champagne, not that she really cared. He popped the cork and gently pushed her down onto the seat so he could pour the bubbly treat on her belly. He sipped it from her navel. She wove her fingers in his hair and sighed in delight.

He said more thrilling things, lots of them, whispering them against her bare skin—that he loved her, that she was and always had been the only woman for him.

She took what he said as part of the fantasy he was weaving around her. No, they weren’t real, his vows of love and forever. She didn’t believe them.

But they sure sounded good. They went down just right with the champagne, with the feel of his hot, hard body pressing close, with the endless pleasure he gave.

It was paradise, pure and simple, to be held in his arms.

When the limo slowed and glided to a stop, she opened her eyes and asked, “Where are we?”

He chuckled. “Put your dress back on. We’ll go check it out.”

“An adventure?” That sounded delightful.

“That’s right. Nell and Deck’s big adventure.” He helped her back into her clothes. Once she was dressed again, she sat there grinning like a fool as he put on his shirt, his boxer briefs and his pants. She wasn’t really drunk, just...kind of high. High on pure pleasure, on sexual satisfaction.

He was fully dressed now. He held up her coat and she put it on.

Dazed, happy, glowing all over, she let him help her from the car.

They were at the Clark County Marriage License Bureau, of all things. That made her laugh. “Oh, you are kidding me.”

He took her hand. “Come on, let’s go inside, just for fun.”

“But...it’s nine o’clock on Sunday night.”

“Sparky, this is Vegas. They almost never close.” He gazed down at her expectantly.

She thought about how much she was loving this, every minute of this night, the two of them together, kind of hazy from the alcohol, loose and easy all over from the beautiful lovemaking. What a great way to feel. She was ready for anything.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”

She followed him in.

After that, well, whatever he suggested, she couldn’t say yes fast enough. She let him take a number and when their turn came, she whipped out her driver’s license and signed where the clerk pointed. It was all very simple. Smooth and easy as you please.

When they returned to the limo, they had a marriage license.

Really, why was she doing this? She wasn’t that drunk. She didn’t understand herself. She ought to...

But then he started kissing her again. And it was a game they were playing. Delicious. Thrilling. In a way, the whole thing was like a dream, her dream, from so long ago, the dream that didn’t come true.

Somehow, impossibly, it was coming true tonight.

It wasn’t that far to the wedding chapel—well, it was more of a wedding complex, really, a series of pink stucco buildings and a parking lot dotted with palm trees and spiky succulents. The limo slid to a stop and Deck pulled a small velvet box from his pocket.