My Kind of Christmas
Page 16

 Robyn Carr

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His relationship with Leigh had been satisfying in its own way. It must have been—he had never strayed. But even in the beginning he wondered what more he could do to satisfy her, to arouse her, to really make things exciting between them. It always seemed as though she had little interest in sex—in any sort of intimacy, now that he thought about it. There were times, of course, when this was understandable—sometimes they fell into bed tired after working long hours. After a couple of years, he reasoned that they’d drifted into a certain complacency because they were so comfortable; they’d just grown so accustomed to each other. Perhaps they took each other for granted. But there were other times when it chafed—like when he returned from deployments. He had missed her while he was away; he hungered for an obvious sign she had longed for him, too. He would have welcomed some wild lust. Some hot, crazy, sweaty, button-popping, fabric-ripping sex. Hell, he’d have been happy with a really good kiss. Anything to show him that his absence had affected her.
But Leigh wasn’t made that way. She was emotionally reserved and even more so when it came to sex. The woman was so damned beautiful and socially vivacious, it felt as though she should be an erotic dream come true, yet she was always so busy perfecting her social image that there was hardly any time left to spend with Patrick. She assured him he was a wonderful lover and that she desired him more than anyone else. And she said she loved him. He bought it, too. Until she left him and never looked back.
Angie, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to get enough of him during their night together. She was Leigh’s polar opposite in bed—and Patrick loved it.
Patrick drove all the way to Fortuna for breakfast. Under the circumstances, he didn’t think he could hold a conversation with Jack. And Jack liked to talk. Chances were good if Jack looked deeply into Patrick’s green eyes he would see images of his niece burned into the irises. Patrick’s palms still tingled from where he’d touched her.
He made a run to the grocery store. He was a passably good cook, but he didn’t want to spend a lot of time cooking or cleaning up that evening, and he wasn’t sure what Angie liked to eat, so he played it safe—chicken stir-fry, brown rice, wine. A little cheesecake in case she had a sweet tooth.
Once that was finished, groceries safe in the car in cold weather, he drove out to Jilly Farms to visit with Colin. As luck would have it, Luke was there. Colin, who had a titanium rod in one femur, was holding the ladder steady while Luke used a staple gun to affix multicolored lights to the eaves. This was a brilliant stroke of luck and Patrick had a strategy here—if he spent a little time with them, declined any offers of dinner, his evening would be his own. And he had plans for the evening.
“Great timing, Paddy,” Luke yelled from the top of the ladder. “We’re done.”
“I pride myself in good timing,” he said with a laugh.
Luke made his way down the ladder and once his feet were on the ground, Colin lowered the extension and picked it up to put away. Teamwork. The interesting part was that until this past year, these two brothers, eldest and second-born, were fiercely competitive and often battled. Now they were Mutt and Jeff. Frick and Frack. Ozzie and Harriet.
Luke looked at his watch. “Lunch,” he said.
“It’s ten-thirty!” Patrick said.
“I had breakfast five hours ago.”
“I had breakfast one hour ago,” Patrick said. “But I can watch you eat.”
“What have you been up to, kid?” Luke asked as he crossed the porch and went into the house.
Thirty-three years old, flown a hundred missions in war zones on at least ten deployments to sea and he was still the kid. The youngest. The one who should be taken care of. “Reading,” he said with a little attitude.
“Reading what?” Luke asked.
“You taking a survey?” Paddy returned.
Colin had leaned the ladder against the porch and was right behind them, following them into the house. “Sometimes if you just let him take your temperature, it satisfies him and he stops asking questions.”
“War and Peace,” Paddy said.
“My ass,” Luke shot back.
“Actually, I have been reading, but not War and Peace. I’m catching up on the DeMille books. That’s what we do at sea—read. Watch DVDs. We play video games and work out a lot. And fly. I haven’t had any significant downtime when the ground isn’t rolling under me in about ten years now.”
“How’s it working out for you?” Colin asked.
“All right, as a matter of fact. This was a good idea. For a few weeks, anyway.”
“Come to San Diego with us,” Colin invited for at least the tenth time.
Paddy shook his head. “I have commitments.”
“Yeah?” Luke asked. He opened the refrigerator. Though Colin lived in this big old Victorian with Jill, Luke apparently put himself in charge. He pulled out bread, lunch meat, cheese, lettuce, mayo, mustard, pickles and tomatoes. “What commitments?”
“I told you, but you never listen. I have to be back in Charleston right after Christmas and I promised to check on Marie on my way. I’m going to spend Christmas with her and little Daniel.”
“Is that carved in granite?” Colin asked, putting a couple of plates on the work island. “Because maybe you can wrangle a few more days out of the Navy, come with the family to San Diego…”
He shook his head. “I told her I’d be sure she was all right at Christmastime. It’s Jake’s wife,” he said.
“Widow. Did she ask you to come?” Colin wanted to know.
Patrick shook his head. “In fact, she said I didn’t have to. But I have to. You guys didn’t really know him—Jake. And you never knew him with Marie.” His shoulders lifted slightly in sentimental memory. “They were so crazy for each other, sometimes it got ridiculous.” He laughed. “They could finish each other’s sentences. When we got back to base after a deployment, they couldn’t be disturbed for days. While we were home, they had date night, alone, every week. I know a hundred couples that wouldn’t be as wounded by separation as Marie and Jake—they were like a blended person. She’s doing well right now, but it’s been brutal. So I’m going to see Marie. Besides, if it wasn’t for the crash, I’d be at sea over Christmas, anyway, and you’d never think twice about me missing it.”
“You seem a little better,” Colin observed.
“I said this was a good idea. I had to get the hell away from that boatyard. A little distance, you know? I remember when the smell of jet fuel got my heart pumping and all of a sudden…” He shook his head. “Probably just some PTSD.”
“Even after my Black Hawk went down, I was ready to climb right back into one,” Colin said.
“Yeah, because it was yours, not one of your boys. That changes everything. But I’m working through it.”
While Patrick talked, Luke spread out bread and dealt cold cuts and cheese onto the slices. He slathered them with mayo and mustard, then sliced a tomato. The tomato slices went on two of the four sandwiches, lettuce on all four.
“Missed a couple,” Patrick told Luke.
“I don’t want tomato. That’s Colin’s—since his woman grows ’em, he has to eat ’em.”
Patrick couldn’t help it, he laughed. “You two,” he said. “For about forty years we couldn’t keep you two from fighting, day and night, and now look at you. Like two little old ladies taking care of each other. You’re totally mellowed. It’s the girls, that’s what it is.”
“Probably,” Colin said. “For me there were a lot of factors, but I’ll be the first to admit Jilly is the best of all those things. She just has this calming effect on me.”
“How much older are you than Jillian?” Patrick asked.
Colin shrugged. “Eight years or so, I guess. Luke’s the one who robbed the cradle.”
Luke took a huge bite of his sandwich, chewed, swallowed and said, “I’ve got almost fourteen years on Shelby, the crazy little witch. Young is good, trust me.”
Patrick leaned toward him. “Don’t you feel just a little bit like a dirty old man?”
Sound and movement stopped so suddenly, it was almost surreal. Only eyeballs shifted between Colin and Luke. Luke slowly put down his sandwich. “Shit,” he said. “You did it. You and the little one, Jack’s niece. You did the nasty.”
“What are you talking about?” Patrick said indignantly.
Colin put down his sandwich. “Yep. Not DeMille’s books relaxing you, Paddy. Something else altogether. Someone else. Aw, man. You had to go for the mayor’s niece?”
“Mayor?” he asked. Patrick stood up from his stool, yet Luke and Colin finally sat down on theirs. The older brothers looked a little weary. “There’s no mayor here!”
“Okay, the king, then. Jack’s pretty much running this town. Don’t tell him that, though. He seems oblivious,” Colin said. “What he’s not oblivious to is his niece. He’s been clear—he doesn’t want her mixed up with any Riordan hooligan.”
“It was consensual,” Paddy said before he realized how awkward that sounded. Obviously all the wonderful sex had killed off some of his brain cells. He certainly hadn’t engaged his mind before opening his mouth.
“There we go,” Luke said. “He did the teenager. Crap.”
“She’s twenty-three! She has two degrees! Two impossible science degrees—biology and chemistry! She’s been valedictorian of every school she’s been in! She’s extremely smart.”
“I know this,” Luke said. “Jack told me. In fact, he told me at the same time he pointed to you and Angie and said, ‘That can’t happen.’ So now what, genius?”
“Nothing happens, that’s what.” Paddy said. “We’re friends. We’re both stuck in a weird holding pattern in our lives right now. She knows all about my situation, about Jake, about the Navy. And I know about hers, about her accident, her indecision about continuing med school.”
Luke looked at Colin. Colin looked at Luke. “Think Jack is going to buy ‘weird holding pattern’?” Colin asked.
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Screw it!” Patrick said, storming toward the door. He whirled back toward his brothers suddenly. “This isn’t about Jack. It’s about us, me and Angie, sitting out rough waters in Virgin River. We’re adults. I might be a little more of an adult if you’re counting years but I bet I have a lower IQ, so that puts us pretty much even. So mind your own goddamn business, all right?” Then he stormed out the door and walked toward his Jeep.
“Hey!”
He turned around to see Colin standing on the porch. Colin, the king of badasses until his Black Hawk crash and Jilly.
“Lighten up, kid,” he said. “No one accused you of anything.”
“Really? Really? Because it sounded like you were pretty goddamn judgmental in there....”
“Nah, we were pretty Riordan,” Colin said. “Take it easy, Paddy.”
“I’m telling you, she’s a good person! She’s smart enough and mature enough to make a decision and I wouldn’t—”
“Hey, slow down, Paddy. Riordans have a lot of rough edges, missed a lot of training growing up, but there was never a Riordan man who didn’t take special care where women were concerned.” Then he grinned. “Even, you know, the kind of naughty ones…”
“She’s not naughty!” he nearly shouted.
Colin put up his hands. “Hey, I wasn’t talking about the little Sheridan niece, pal. My thoughts drifted more toward Luke’s taste for pole dancers.”