“Pop star,” Harrison said. “I would rather have my eyes gouged out than be on a stage with a mic and be expected to sing.”
Amy laughed. “But isn’t professional golf like being on a big stage with a mic? I mean, there are cameras and onlookers.”
“Yes, but I can hit a golf ball. I can’t hit a note.”
“Ba da boom,” she said, miming a rim shot.
They talked for hours, learning each other, until the fire died down and there were stars twinkling above the Christmas lights and the temperatures had dipped to frigid. They were sick of Cheez-Its, but neither wanted to take the time to cook something more substantial—the margaritas had turned them into slugs. Harrison said there was a pizza shop up the road. So they ordered pizza and fed the crusts to Duchess.
Later, they gave Duchess a Nylabone to occupy her, then crawledonto the couch and covered themselves with a single thick blanket. Overhead, a choir sang “Silent Night.” They watched the Christmas lights twinkling across the lake, the occasional boat go past, its green and red lights flashing. They perused the selection of movies that were available to play off an ancient disc player. There was a lively debate on whether they ought to tackleSanta Claus Conquers the MartiansorChristmas with the Kranks, and decided together that perhapsMartianswas a reach. However, at the end ofChristmas with the Kranks, they both agreed maybe the martian movie might have been better.
At some point during the movie, Duchess had sniffed her way to her bed, and the music had turned to softer Christmas melodies. Harrison wrapped Amy’s hair around his finger. “I can’t think of anyone who could have survivedChristmas with the Krankswith me.”
Amy beamed. “You know the sad part? It was so bad that I think my family would have loved it.”
Harrison laughed. “They sound like my kind of people.” He smiled softly at her, and his hand dropped to her shoulder. “These few days with you have been nice, Amy Casey. I wasn’t expecting that.”
She looked at his mouth and imagined kissing him right now. Apparently, her libido had been freed from its Pandora’s box, ready to go to town. “I think it’s been nice, too, Harrison Neely. Kind of amazing, given that I thought you were possibly a murderer in the beginning.”
He leaned forward. “And I thought you were a nut job who might rob me in my sleep.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” His gaze moved to her mouth. “I didn’t think you’d do much else with a blind dog in tow.”
She could almost feel the heat between them, and her body was tingling with the anticipation of his touch. She must have been desperately obvious, because a slow smile appeared on Harrison’s lips. “What are you thinking about?”
“Not thinking. Imagining.”
He leaned even closer, so close that she thought he was going to kiss her. “Does this image include clothes?”
“Funny, but it does not.”
“Interesting. Neither does mine.” He leaned forward to kiss the hollow of her throat. Amy tipped her head back. His hand slid up her leg, up the yoga pants she was wearing, right up her calf to her knee. He kissed her neck. “What are we going to do about that?”
She kissed him back, her fingers trailing across his face and sliding into his hair. “Would you like to come back to my half of the house?”
Harrison lifted his head, amused. “Are you sure? That feels like we’re crossing an established boundary.”
“We’ve crossed all the other boundaries. We might as well cross that one, too.” She scooched out from under him. “Meet you there.”
“No way. I’m going with you,” he said and hopped up. He caught her hand and yanked her into his side, then hurried her down the hall as “The Little Drummer Boy” drummed them on.
The spin of desire in Amy was nothing like she remembered ever experiencing. With age came knowing what she wanted, and sex with Harrison was what she wanted. Lying on her bed, she shivered when he stroked her thigh, gasping into his mouth. She moaned when his hand slid higher. She began to move on him and beneath him, desire billowing through at a gale force.
She kissed him hard; caressed his shoulders, his back, his hips. She urged him on with her hands and her mouth—not that he needed it. He seemed just as intent as she was on reaching an explosive climax. They twisted around, taking turns on top, their bodies sliding against each other. Nothing else seemed to matter more than their mutual goal. She felt completely free of her usual inhibitions and thoughts.
And when at last they had come, had both exploded and melted within moments of each other, she didn’t know what to do with it. It wasso complete, so perfect. If she’d known sex and life could be this much fun in her fifties, she would have sought it out much sooner.
Amy opened her eyes and looked at Harrison. She had long forgotten how it felt to have a man in her bed. His eyes had gone dark and shiny. She couldn’t help herself—she pressed her palm against his cheek, then kissed him softly. She felt a strong current of emotion between them, something that was familiar and potent. She knew herself well enough to know what it meant—she was falling for this guy.
“You kill me,” he said, and kissed her forehead as he eased himself out of her body. The way he was looking at her made her feel adored. But that was impossible—she wasn’t so crazy to think that after only knowing her for a couple of days he would be into her like that. And yet she could feel something more than a good time here. Something that felt special. Like she mattered. Whatever the topic, the conversation flowed. It was odd how erudite she felt when talking to him. She was a person of the world, who observed and held opinions that were worth sharing. At least he made her feel that way.
And she felt playful. Her sense of humor was appreciated; he laughed at her jokes. She laughed at his. They had a flow between them that made her feel alive. She loved her family so much, and she knew they loved her. But she did not feel like her own person with them in the way she did with Harrison.
With the Christmas tree lights in her room, and the warmth of the blanket he pulled over their naked bodies, this felt like every Christmas movie she’d ever seen (exceptthe Kranks), and she very much wanted to live the fantasy. She wanted the snowtastrophe to come so they could pull on knit caps and toboggan together. She wanted to ice-skate on an outdoor pond. She wanted to hold his hand when they attended a community barn dance with all their favorite people and drink warm apple cider. And they would dance, and end the night just like this—in each other’s arms.
Lord.She was getting carried away, imagining a romance that obviously wasn’t going to happen.Get real, Amy.Harrison would go back to his celebrity golf lifestyle. She would go back to her kids (and just thinking about it, she remembered that Jonah had a dentist appointment she needed to confirm), and this would be a lovely holiday memory.
