Chapter 8 #2
Harrison laughed, and when he did, he sort of unthinkingly, naturally, took her hand and squeezed it. There it was, her hand in his. He liked it. He liked the way her bones felt delicate in soft skin. His hand was callused from holding golf clubs for so many years. He hoped she didn’t mind.
She did not remove her hand. They didn’t look at each other, but sat side by side, staring straight ahead into the flames.
He had a momentary burst of complete indecision about whether to let go.
He didn’t want to. He said, “Okay, here goes. I miss having someone in my life. I hate online dating. I brought a book about the Roman Empire for a little light reading.”
Amy pondered his three things for a moment. “Not fair,” she said. “Those are all true.”
Harrison blinked with surprise. “Are you psychic or something?”
“Perceptive. And a lucky guesser.”
“Remind me to invite you along for trivia night sometime.” With his free hand, he picked up the glass he’d set aside. He sipped. The bourbon was beginning to make him feel loose-limbed and buzzy.
“I can imagine it’s really hard to date online when you’re traveling so much.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Honestly, I lost interest in trying to meet women that way. I think I prefer a more organic way.”
“Like being double-booked into a vacation rental?”
He laughed. “I am beginning to see the benefits.” He squeezed her hand. “Your turn.”
She settled in against him again, her hand still in his. “I don’t know how to meet anyone. I don’t know if I want to meet anyone, because I don’t know what is expected anymore. And I haven’t had sex in a very long time.”
Harrison felt something warm and mellow slide through him. He smiled in the direction of the tree. “I am really starting to dig this game. I think all are true.”
“Nope. None of them are true.”
He snapped his gaze to her, surprised. Amy laughed. “You’re too easy, Harrison. You’re right. They’re all true.”
“Is it me? Or do our truths sound sort of depressing?”
She turned her head to him, and he held her gaze. “Which truth is the most depressing?”
His gaze moved to her lips. “Tough choice. But one of them sort of leaped out at me.” The fire crackled, and it felt like a spark shot right through him.
Was she thinking what he was thinking? Was she thinking about a kiss?
Maybe more? Was she thinking that this sharing between them had ignited something, and here they were, two lonely people during the Christmas season, a cold wind and heavy rain outside, tucked in a beautiful house with nothing to stop them?
With an attraction that clearly seemed to be brewing between them?
He felt all that pretty intensely. Where was mistletoe when you needed it? It was across the room, but still…
He felt her shift, and so did he. He turned his body toward her, could feel the energy between them, could feel it practically thrumming, and then…and then—
The moment was stabbed through the heart by the piercing ring of her phone.
Not that the ring was anything but ordinary, but it sure felt like a blow right to his chest. Amy seemed not to know what to do.
She was still looking at him, her eyes wide, the firelight sparkling in her eyes.
“That’s my phone,” she said, as if he didn’t realize.
“I guessed.”
“I’ll let it roll to voicemail.”
“Great.”
But she didn’t move, her gaze firmly locked on his, almost as if she thought if she didn’t turn around, then the phone wasn’t really there. It worked for a minute—the phone quit ringing.
Amy let out a sigh of relief, and then gave him a sheepish smile. “It’s that mom thing. I always fear if I don’t pick up, the worst—”
The phone began to ring again. Harrison felt all the giddiness, this little Christmas miracle, begin to bleed out of him. Amy didn’t hesitate this time. She turned away from him and grabbed her phone. “Hello?”
Whatever the person said on the other end of the line caused Amy to slump. “It’s okay, baby,” she said.
And that’s a wrap, Harrison thought. He gestured at her glass. She shook her head. He picked up her glass and his and managed to get up without looking too lame. The moment was lost to them.
“Don’t say that, Ethan. Of course you are.
You’re the brightest, smartest boy I know…
Of course I mean it…What? Where is Dad? Oh, I see.
But…Ethan. You’re being too hard on yourself.
Remember the things we talked about? First, take a deep breath.
Now, let’s talk about what’s probably going on,” she said, her voice fading as she moved through the house, on the way back to her room.
Harrison sighed. He hated when highly charged moments got busted up. He hated it when he was on a streak, feeling as confident and invincible as a man could feel, only to have a bad putt push him back into doubt.
He glanced back toward the living room and noticed the damn mistletoe hanging from the archway, taunting him.
What he didn’t hate, he realized, was being here with Amy. This was turning out to be just the boost he needed.