Frosted Midnight: A Christmas Novella (3 page)

“Love you too,” I responded.

She blew me a kiss, went into my bedroom, and closed the door.

I walked to the end of the lane where wooden stairs led down to the beach. The tide was out, which meant the caves would be damp but dry. As I descended, I tried not to think of the time Austin and I had spent walking along this beach, holding hands, talking, and kissing in the moonlight. It’d been our favorite way to end a night out before he’d walk me home, kiss me goodnight, and then more often than not end up staying.

I clicked on my phone and the time lit up. It was five minutes to midnight. Five more minutes and I’d know the true merit of the man I’d fallen in love with those many months ago. The prospect terrified me. Several times I nearly turned around and scuttled back up the stairs
, away from the inevitable. 

But I wasn’t a coward.
At least, not yet.

When I reached the last step I paused. The wind was always strongest near the ocean. My hair ripped from my bun and strands blew in my face. I brushed them aside
as I searched the shoreline for him. Now that the time was so close, I was anxious. My heart raced with anticipation.

Austin. Austin. Austin.

My mind chanted his name.

He’s said our cave. I knew exactly the one he meant. The light from the moon glistened off the water and lit up the night. My boot
s scrunched in the sand and I inhaled the salty smell of the ocean and the dried seaweed.

When I came to the large rock that housed our cave I saw a light. He’d made a fire. I stop
ped, leaning against the prickly surface.

This is it,
I thought.

I rounded the corne
r and there he was. Austin Merrick, the most gorgeous man I’d ever met or would ever meet. He heard me enter the cave and turned.

As soon as our eyes m
et, his face lit up.

“Willow.” He tossed the stick he’d been using to poke the firewood into
the flames and stood.

I couldn’t
move. He looked exactly the same: tall, bright hazel eyes, longer dark hair, and tanned skin. Well, except he had on a suit instead of the jeans and tee shirt I’d become used to seeing him in. He also wasn’t wearing his cowboy hat or boots. 

Damn, he looked good in a suit. But why was he wearing
a suit? And near a fire.

He mo
ved toward me, his hands out.

My body started to tremble. “This is wrong,” I whispered
, and ran.

He came after me immediately. “Willow. Wait.”

I kept going until I tripped on a damn rock and went down hands and face first into the wet sand.

Austin fell next to me
. “Are you alright?”

I spit out some sand and wiped my mouth. There was no doubt I was a mess, but I wasn’t going to get another shot.

My inner voice kept telling me to keep calm—let Austin talk, let him explain—but my mouth wasn’t giving a fuck.

“No, I’m not okay, Austin. Do I look okay?”
I pushed myself over into a sitting position.

His serious expression turned light
and I noticed him fight not to laugh. His beautiful eyes crinkled at the sides. It made me want to cry. “You’ve got some…” he paused and brushed sand from my lip. The touch of his finger sent a jolt of need through my body. “Let me help you.” He stood and held out a hand for me.

My ass was wet and I was shivering with cold now, but I didn’t want his goddamn help. “I don’t want your help. I don’t need you.” I spat the words angrily, fighting back
the tears that threatened.

He sighed and kneeled. “It’s cold. At least come back to the fire.”

I turned away, watching the waves crash over each other and roll toward us, then pull back. The tide was coming in. A cloud covered the bright moon and the world went dark. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust. When they did I saw Austin still kneeled in front of me, his hands on his thighs, his face serious.

He moved closer so I could feel his breath on my mouth. It was minty fresh. I held my breath, shocked. He wouldn’t dare. Then his mouth was on mine. Soft. Tender. I wanted to resist him, tell him to get the fuck away from me, but I couldn’t. I’d missed his lips.
So, so much.

Slow
ly I kissed him back. His fingers gripped my sweater and he pulled me to him. I wrapped my fingers in his hair. He deepened the kiss, opening my mouth, and every feeling I’d pushed away over the past fifteen months came flooding back like he’d never been gone. Suddenly I couldn’t get close enough to him. I wanted him to make me feel, the way he’d always made me feel before. I needed it. Even if it was just one more time.

Austin stood and pulled me
up with him, then lifted me in his arms. I lay against his chest, my hand near his heart. It beat rapidly. He carried me back to our cave and set me down next to the fire. Then he grabbed his suit coat and wrapped it around me.

It wasn’t the same as his arms, and I missed him
, more than I cared to admit. But then again, I knew I’d been lying to keep myself from sinking into a pit of depression. Looking at him, seeing the way he looked at me, I knew he still cared. “Why did you leave?” I whispered.

He brought over a bottle of wine, two glasses
, and a blanket and sat down. I waited while he wrapped the blanket around me and himself, opened the wine, and poured us each a glass.

I was still wet
, but I was beginning to warm up.

Finally he spoke, a deep
timbre that warmed me even more. “I’m from Texas. Did I ever tell you that?”

“No, but you always wore that cowboy hat. I guessed either Texas, Colorado, or Wyoming.” I took a large gulp of the red wine.

He smirked. “Yeah, my mom and dad are from Austin, but I live in Dallas.”

I nodded, forcing myself to stay quiet.

He cleared his throat and shifted in the blanket. “I was married,” he finally whispered.

My mind screamed. No. No. No. No. No. Married? He said ‘was.’ Did that mean he wasn’t married any longer
? “Was?” I asked, finishing off the wine, grabbing the bottle, and refilling my glass. I had a feeling I’d need it.

“Yes. We married right out of high school
, attended college together. Started our careers together.” He smiled and my heart shattered.

“What happened?”

He gulped down the rest of his drink. “She died,” he finally said.

That surprised me. “I-I’m sorry, Austin.” I took another drink. Is that why he left suddenly? Had he left her and she died? Was it my fault?

He stared into the fire, the flames dancing in his faraway eyes. “She was the love of my life. I knew with absolute certainty there would never be another woman for me…” He trailed off.

I stop
ped breathing.

What did that make me?
A booty call? Had he come back to try and forget her? That seemed like a lot of work. The man was extraordinarily handsome. I had no doubt droves of women wanted him. So maybe it was guilt. He came back to tell me he was sorry he’d left abruptly.

But I didn’t
want to hear that. I realized the only words I wanted to hear from Austin were words that meant we were supposed to be together.

His wife had been th
e love of his life, but Austin was the love of mine, regardless how little time I had left. 

God, it hurt.
The fucking knowing.

And what if he did
love me, care for me enough to stay? Could I selfishly allow him to do that?

Of course not.
I was already leaving a daughter behind, parentless… Except, if I told him about Emma, then maybe he’d love her, take care of her, and she’d have a dad.

Austin scooted
closer and touched my face. I quivered with longing. I wanted him. I needed him. He leaned in and kissed— 

“No, wait.” I need
ed to think. I scrambled out of the blanket. It didn’t matter anymore why he left those many months ago, only that he was back. My mom and sisters were right. He needed to know about Emma.

“Austin, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Alright, but first I need to say something to you. It’s important.”

I swallow
ed and nodded. “Okay. What?” Now that I’d decided to tell him about Emma, I just wanted to get it out, get it over with. He’d either be happy about knowing or he wouldn’t be, but I had to tell him.

Austin wrapped
his arms around me. “She died before I met you. I came to Bandon to get away, to forget, and I found you, but I was worried that my feelings for you weren’t real, that they were my way of dealing with my loss. I worried that I’d transferred my feelings for Laura onto you.” He reached out a hand and when I took it, he pulled me next to him, pressing his forehead against mine. He closed his eyes and held my face between his hands. The grief on his face was palpable and I wanted to comfort him. Before I could he said, “I had to leave here—you—to make sure. I needed to get over her before I could truly gauge my feelings for you. And now I know. I love you, Willow. More than I could believe. And God I’ve missed you.”

Tears sprang into my eyes. I was sad and happy at t
he same time.

“Will
? Willow. Don’t cry. I’m sorry I left. Can you ever forgive me?” He pressed his mouth on mine hard, full of desire, and I responded in kind. God help me, I wanted him, all of him, for as long as possible.

I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to debate the consequences.
I just wanted to feel. His lips on mine, his naked body against mine. Him inside. I unbuttoned his wet shirt and pulled at his tie. He smiled against my lips.

“Let me help.” He
dragged his tie over his head and tossed it to the ground along with his shirt. I watched him, overwhelmed by how fucking hot he was, mesmerized by the muscles along his chest, abs, and arms. He smiled. “Take off that wet sweater, Will.”

I sprung into action
, unwrapping the red scarf and placing it carefully on a dry rock. My sweater came off next, exposing my pink lace bra underneath. My nipples immediately responded to the cold air. Austin’s eyes went dark with lust and the knowledge that he wanted me sent a wave of delicious longing through me.

After that it was a tangle of shoes, arms and legs. He
spread out the blanket and we lay down side by side. He rolled on top of me, his hard naked flesh pressed against mine. Our lips came together and he pressed my mouth open, tasting, flicking, and sending embers of longing and wetness into the most sensual part of me. I spread my legs and he settled between them, sliding inside me, filling me.

God, he was huge. I’d forgotten. He started to move slowly, holding himself up on his elbows. I
whimpered, wrapping my legs around his hips. He kissed me harder and moved faster. I felt his heart beating against my breasts.

“Willow. Willow. You feel so good. I’ve missed you.” He spoke the words against my lips and I moaned, throwing my head back. He kissed my chin, my neck
, and along my ear. “I want to make you feel so good. Come for me, Willow.” He moved faster and faster.

My orgasm built
quickly. The tightening, the way the tip of him touched so deep inside. Deeper and deeper. I dug my nails into his shoulders and came undone beneath him, gasping for air.

He gave a final thrust as he came inside me.

Austin rested his forehead against my shoulder
and pressed a kiss on my clavicle. “Let’s get you dressed.” He went to get up but I held him to me.

As soon as we
dressed and left the cave, it would be back to reality. I wasn’t ready. “Austin, wait.” He lifted his head and looked at me, and I saw the love. It was easy to see, and that made me sad because he’d come clean and explained. I even understood to an extent, although understanding didn’t take away the many months of pain I’d felt. He’d still hurt me, even if he had good intentions.

“What is it, Will?” He nuzzled me with his nose. It was cold against my skin and my flesh puckered with goose bumps.

I grabbed his face between my hands. “I—there’s some things I need to tell you.”

He gave me a quick kiss
and stood, then pulled me to my feet slowly. “Damn, you’re beautiful.” He handed me my undies, dangled them from his finger. I grabbed them and slid them on, along with my bra. He picked up my pants and my sweater. They were covered in sand. I took them and shimmied into them while he dressed. “I’m listening,” he said as he zipped his pants.

“It’s…” Ugh, how did I say this? How did I make him understand what an amazing child Emma was and do it without sounding like I wanted something from him? “It’s
… I—
we
have a child,” I finally blurted.

He was in the process on
buttoning his shirt and froze. His brows crunched together and his lips tightened. “What do you mean?”

I huffed and tugged on my sweater. “It isn’t that hard to grasp. We were together. Nine month
s later I gave birth to a baby girl.” My insides softened as I thought about her. “And she’s wonderful, the most amazing child. A sweet disposition with a full head of dark curly hair, blue eyes, and the cute—”

“A child?” He pulled his tie over his head and tugged on his shoes. “You and me?” He grabbed hold of the blanket and shook it angrily
, then folded it.

I sighed. There weren’t a lot of men in the world who would be excited to hear such news
, that a summer fling had given him a child. But he’d said he loved me just now. So why was he mad? “I-I just thought you’d like to know, but if you aren’t interested, I’m not asking for anything.” I picked up the bottle and the glasses and clung to them.

Austin set the blanket down and went to work putting out the fire. After it was out and smoking, he turned to me, his eyes blazing. “I can’t fucking believe it. I never would’ve thought you were that kind of girl. I just told you I loved you. I just made love to you. Why would you lie?
What’s the point? You had me.”

He kicked sand over the
smoldering wood, picked up the blanket and left the cave.

I
shook off the feeling of dread building in my stomach, wrapped the red scarf around my neck, and followed him out.

Water had reached the entrance and my feet got wet. Dammit. He was walking quickly and had already reached the stairs. I jogged to catch up. When I reached him I put a hand on his lower back. “Austin. I’m not lying.”

He paused and turned, his features even more angry. I noticed the way his jaws were clenched and the flash of rage in the way he was breathing. “Bullshit.” He went back to stomping up the stairs.

I trailed after him,
wrath building within. What the hell? I had no reason to lie.

Austin stopped. “I can’t have children, Willow. My wife and I tried for years. Years,” he shouted and started up the steps.

I was dumbfounded. I hadn’t been with another man, ever. He was it for me. “Well, I’m sorry, but it happened. She’s yours. She looks just like you.”

At my words he turned and came down. Austin towered over me like a
wild bull. He was breathing hard. His hair had fallen into his eyes.

“I swear she’s yours. I’ve never been—”

He growled and started back up the steps.

I let him go. Just stood there and watched. “You’re a stupid, stupid man, Austin Merrick,” I whispered as tears rolled down my cheeks.

When he reached the top, he turned back and paused. For the briefest second I thought he’d realized what an asshole he was being and would come back and apologize.

He didn’t.

He left me. Again.

When I reached my front door I paused, not quite ready to go in.
The night started out so well and ended…

“
Asshole.” I went in, quietly locked the door, and went to the freezer. At the back, behind the mint chip ice cream and the chocolate chip waffles, was a bottle of vodka. My mom had brought it over the day I found out about my cancer. I’d been pregnant with Emma at the time so I hadn’t had any. She’d had a shot and we’d cried. I’d put the rest in the freezer, telling her I’d save it for a day like today. Twenty or not, I intended to get drunk—incredibly, stupidly drunk—and pass out on the couch. That was my Christmas present to myself. I’d earned it.

I got a glass from the cupboard and carefully filled it with ice. From the refrigerator I took a lime, cut it in half
, and squeezed the juices over the ice.  Then I filled the glass with vodka and sat at the table.

The first swallow burned and I gasped
, then took another. There was no more time for tears. I would drink and feel sorry for myself tonight—this one night. Tomorrow I would push all the feelings back down and focus on Emma and getting better. Tomorrow.

About ha
lf way through the bottle I decided I wasn’t done with Austin Merrick. I started an e-mail attached pictures from the day Emma was born and up until two days ago, when I took a picture of Emma in an elf outfit. She looked so damn adorable. And I put little comments with each picture. Like on the day she was born, I commented:
I named her Emma Austin after your sorry ass.

When she hit her one-month mark, I’d taken a picture of us at the library. Underneath I typed:
Baby loves books
.
Austin is an idiot.
At two months, I’d taken her to the beach. My mom took the picture of her and I and a starfish I was showing her. My comment after I attached it was:
Emma’s my little starfish
.
You’re a dick.
Month three was Halloween, and I’d dressed her in a peapod costume. She looked like one of those Anne Geddes pictures. Under that picture I typed:
She’s a sweet pea. You’re an ass
. At Thanksgiving she wore a turkey on her shirt. My mom was holding her and my sisters stood on either side. I typed:
My family and you’re missing out. Dick!
And finally I attached the elf pic and commented:
Merry Christmas. I’ve never lied to you. I don’t know how, but Emma is yours. If you can’t see that, then you’re the biggest asshole on the planet, you stupid fucking gorgeous man.

I didn’t even think about it when I finished. I just hit send, closed my laptop
, and went to the couch where I promptly fell asleep, feeling much better.