The Christmas Crush

Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Elena detected tension between Lawrence and his friend Trey as they sat together with Trey’s fianc é e at a high-top table. Trey seemed to be doing his best to draw Lawrence out, and Lawrence acted stiff, uncertain. Trey’s bubbly fianc é e, Iris, kept Elena entertained with stories of growing up in New Hope while the guys’ conversation started and stopped multiple times.

Under the table, Lawrence held her hand as if he were afraid to let go.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom. How about you, Elena?” Iris asked, doing the greatest act of kindness known in the girl world. No decent woman would leave a newcomer alone with two best friends, one of whom the newcomer had just begun dating. Especially not in this mysterious, awkward situation. Elena got up to follow, kissed Lawrence on the cheek to comfort him before she left the table.

“Is everything okay with them?” Elena asked as they moved through the modest crowd. The bar had that lived-in atmosphere Elena expected from an independent place in the middle of nowhere. Slightly sticky wood floors, peanuts in red plastic baskets, most of the light coming from neon beer signs and haphazardly hung holiday lights. Locals everywhere in jeans and sweaters, relaxing after a long day. A pool table and a dart board. Next to the games lay a small dance floor where couples swayed in each other’s arms.

“You didn’t hear this from me,” Iris said as they stepped into the ladies’ room. They stood side by side, fixing their hair in a cracked mirror above hard-water-stained sinks. “They had a little dustup this afternoon.”

“Uh-oh. Why?” Immediate concern gripped Elena. What did this fight tell her about Lawrence? She pressed for more information. “Do they fight often?”

Another woman burst in, tears running in mascara-blackened streaks down her face. “Not now, McKenzie. Go tell Rudy you’re sorry,” Iris commanded the interloper. The woman nodded, tore a paper towel off the roll, and blotted her face before leaving. “McKenzie and Rudy have been fighting with each other every night for four years. I don’t have the patience for it.”

Elena didn’t want a relationship like that, especially not after she’d seen what Priya had gone through with her ex. Too many fights—with anyone—were a red flag.

“Do Lawrence and Trey fight a lot?” she asked again, worry knotting in her stomach.

“Ha-ha, no way. I’ve known them both since second grade, and they’ve only had one fight before.” Iris took lip gloss with orange undertones from her bag and began to reapply.

“Then what could’ve happened?” Elena asked, more curious than before about the reason. Iris started at Elena in the mirror. Elena pointed at her own chest. “Me?”

“I’m only telling you this so that you understand how into you Lawrence is. He got all heated insisting he wanted to support your grand opening. Trey was worried about him because none of us know you. This is his livelihood, you know. Lawrence came to your defense in a big way. Or in a big way for him, at least. He’s typically chill to a fault.”

Embarrassment that her request had made Lawrence argue with his friend clashed with excitement at Lawrence’s faith in her. Elena chewed the inside of her cheek, unsure what to say, heartbeat skipping. Iris patted her shoulder.

“I’m not trying to freak you out or make you feel bad. Those two will be fine. I do want to give you a heads-up, though. If you’re not super interested in him, you might want to pump the brakes. I’ve never seen him like this over a woman.”

Pure delight surged in Elena’s racing heart. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Lawrence since he stayed the night. Time had changed for her. Now hours spent with Lawrence went quicker than any others; work hours dragged worse than before. Tonight she’d driven as fast as she dared, resenting every mile that separated them. When he held her in his arms, it had felt like catching her breath after being stuck underwater.

“You look scared,” Iris said, twisting the cap back on the gloss.

“Do I? I guess I never had anyone this interested in me.”

“And you don’t feel the same?”

Elena closed her eyes. “I do. That’s why I look scared. I wasn’t expecting this right now. Or ever. I didn’t think it really happened. I certainly didn’t know if he would feel the same.”

“Not trying to get in your business—we just met—but you seem nice, genuine. Take it slow, let it build on itself. Be careful.”

Elena held the door open for Iris. “How long have you and Trey been engaged?’

“He’ll say since April when he proposed, but I say since we were seven when I told him we were getting married.”

“That is a long time,” Elena said with a laugh.

Back in the main room, a country singer crooned from the sound system about a fast car and an escape plan. The melody strummed inside her. She wanted to run headlong to Lawrence.

“Look at those two fools,” Iris said, nudging Elena. Trey and Lawrence were taking turns trying to sink unshelled peanuts in each other’s open mouth. “I told you they’d work it out.”

Elena loved to see Lawrence laughing with his friend, rocking back on the barstool to catch a peanut. Their fists pumped the air in unison when he managed to get it. Open beer bottles rattled as they banged the tabletop next. Fluttery excitement made Elena move to the music when she got back to him. He slung his arm around her. “Like this song, honey?”

“I do,” she said, gazing at him, at the angles of his handsome face. The hair she loved to twist her fingers into.

“It’s a good one.”

A peanut hit him square in the face. He blinked in surprise.

“Ask her to dance, dummy,” Trey said. Iris giggled, took Trey’s proffered hand. They walked toward the other couples. Trey looked back at Elena and Lawrence. “Coming or not?”

“What do you say?” Lawrence asked, eyeing Elena. “Will you dance with me? I’m not the worst at it.”

“I’d dance with you even if you were the worst.”

On the dance floor, he put his arm around her waist, pulled her against him in one fluid motion. His right hand pressed into the small of her back; his left held hers against his chest. A beat later she put her other hand on his shoulder, against the washed-soft flannel of his shirt. Even though he’d told her he could dance, she didn’t expect the natural way he fell into the rhythm. How easily he led her along, laid his cheek against her temple.

The music was at its loudest here, next to the speakers. The song thumped into her, filled her ears. Lights above shone red and green. The guitar twanged, Lawrence spun her, her feet left the ground as he swept her up. His strength still astonished her, the way he lifted her, his arms not even trembling. How he felt like a safe place to be. The only place to be.

He dipped her, kissed her. A couple of people clapped, shouted his name. His friends, a whole place full of people who knew him, wanted the best for him. What a man to warrant so much goodwill. To have friends who fought to protect him.

She hooked her arms around his neck, drew his face closer so he could hear her. “You know you mean more to me than any grand opening, right?”

“Don’t you worry about that, baby,” he whispered back. She couldn’t resist kissing him again, couldn’t believe her luck to be with him here. The song ended, and they danced into the next one without missing a step. “I’m not worried.”

She couldn’t take her eyes from his, wanted to look into them forever. The world outside held disappointments, uncertainties, misunderstandings, but nothing could touch her in a moment like this. Because Lawrence’s eyes reflected all the desire and acceptance she felt for him right back to her. Better than a mirror, he saw a deeper, worthier version of herself than she could recognize on her own.

“Let me take you home,” he said.

She didn’t have to speak for him to know what she wanted more than anything. He waved goodbye to Trey, she hugged Iris. Then they were outside in the slicing cold, running hand in hand to his truck, heedless of ice. They parted long enough to climb into the cab; a second later she was on his lap. The steering wheel dug into her back as he kissed her insistently. A wordless promise. Nothing else on earth tasted like him, felt as good.

His hand bunched her hair, then he tenderly tipped her head back to deepen their kiss. He swore, his voice thick when they broke apart so he could turn the key in the ignition. “Elena, I’ve been dying for this.”

She slid off his lap, feeling like something had been stolen from her, and buckled her seat belt. A foot’s distance from him was too much. They laced their fingers together, and he kissed her knuckles as he drove to his house. Let me take you home. Home. The bar was only three blocks from his house, yet the drive seemed interminable, both of them too breathless and preoccupied to speak.

Soon enough they were stumbling up the stairs to his bedroom, shedding clothes on the climb, almost tripping over their own feet. She laughed when she bumped into him. He lifted her again and carried her the rest of the way. With his elbow he nudged the half-open bedroom door and stepped inside. He laid her on his four-poster bed. On the sheets that smelled like him.

She lost herself to his rhythms, listened to his breath as it grew more urgent, his touch as he sought her satisfaction.

She fell into the mystery and marvel of giving and taking, the bliss of true intimacy in a life that could be lonely. And later, when she landed, almost asleep, on his chest, his arms holding her as close as possible, she felt home indeed.