“I’m in,” I said, letting him out of his misery but also sort of excited. I was starting to think this might be my most memorable Christmas yet, Rubia long forgotten. Donovan could be so vulnerable when he let his ego take a rest, and in this moment, he was building a special shelf in my heart for himself.
It was a bad idea on my part and a risk on his. Our moms had different plans, and taking note of the turn of events with Cinder, those two women got what they wanted.
Donovan
“Happy Christmas.” Later that same day, I greeted Tulya as she made her way out of her room in a red dress, fitted on top and a bit flowy on the bottom. I didn’t know what it was called other than perfect. This woman had been tantalizing me in a new and bold way since the holiday party.
“Merry Christmas to you.” As she spoke, her eyes practically sparkled with lightness.
For a hurried moment, I worried about what was to come, but then I shut it down because we had now. I hoped. Pausing, I took a sip of my bourbon, silencing the rush of anxiety, need, and want coursing through me at the quick flash of her strappy silver stilettos.
“Cheers,” she said, taking note of my beverage.
“I ordered a bottle of red,” I said, waving my palm toward the bar.
“Thank you.” I watched her walk toward the counter with glasses and the vino, and the need to touch her hit me like a thunderbolt in the chest, not that I knew what it felt like other than seeing it in the movies. Lord, I was a heap of hormones and errant thoughts when it came to Tulya.
“We can have a glass here or…take it downstairs with us?” I finally gathered myself and asked. My tone came out like a question—I wanted her to know this night was about her.
“I’d love to have a glass on the balcony.” She turned to look at me. “Is that okay? Will we still be on time for dinner?”
“We can eat at any time. They’re holding our table.”
She tilted the already opened bottle and poured into the wide-mouthed glass. Taking a sniff, she swallowed a taste. I watched, like the voyeur I’d become.
“Come on,” she said, strolling by me, taking my hand in hers and leading the way to the sliding glass door.
My feet obeyed. A smitten soldier I was.
“One thing Rubia doesn’t have…a warm Christmas,” Tulya rambled, her voice tender.
“You look beautiful,” I whispered, walking to her side, my free hand coming to rest on her hip.
We stood there staring at one another.
“I bought this in the store downstairs. I was holding out hope of being home for the holiday when packing.” A small laugh escaped her as she admitted this, and I wished she giggled more. Tulya tended to be serious, but I imagined that growing up with her mother, there was no other way to be.
“It’s made for you. The dress.” I stumbled over my words.
“I guess somewhere deep inside I knew we would still be here, and the holiday with my family wasn’t happening. Anyway, a good excuse to shop.” Despite her laughing off the circumstances, I felt her sadness at being away.
A small wisp of her hair came free from the tight bun she wore at the nape of her neck, and my hand didn’t wait for direction—my fingers reached out of their own volition and brushed it away from her face.
“I’m sorry you’re not home either,” I whispered, but it was a lie.
“Thank you for making it special. Dinner, the wine, time by the pool.”
“Tulya.” Her name came out on a breath. “You are the one making it special because you’re you. Please don’t forget that, no matter what happens.”
A sudden sense of doom ran through me. It could be because of how much I wanted this woman. And there was no scenario where that worked long term. Or it might be what lay ahead of us. Or both.
“I don’t want to disappoint you…or my mom…or your mom.” With each person she didn’t want to let down, her voice became softer.
“You won’t,” I said before my hand left her hip and gathered her close by the nape of her neck and gathered her in for a kiss. My mouth melded to hers and she kissed me back as fervently as my lips were savoring her.
We stayed like that for a while, our mouths leading the way, hopefully setting an example for other parts, until a brisk wind pushed by us. I felt a chill run through Tulya and pulled back from her body, placing my forehead on hers. “You’re cold,” I stated.
She leaned into me in rebuttal, stealing my body heat without any words.
