My Kind of Christmas
Page 25

“Did I yell?”
“No. You said his name. You made a sound. You stiffened and clenched your fists and started panting. And you wouldn’t wake up.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “I was busy,” he said.
“Does that happen a lot?”
He let his lids close gently. “Not since you,” he said softly, opening his eyes again. “It’s been a couple of weeks, I guess. That’s why I won’t stay with my brothers. I thought I screamed. In the dream I scream. It’s like the real thing.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t scream. I might not have known about the nightmare if I’d been in the next room.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Can you talk about it? About what happened that day?”
He gave a shrug. “There’s not too much to tell. We were locating a terrorist cell on the Libya border, flying in low, making our presence felt. There were reports of a terrorist training post. There had been heavy fire from that place—we’d had casualties and fatalities. There had been reports of a lot of grenades, IEDs, gunfire, ground missiles. A couple of sorties to the area reported surface to air Russian-made air heat seekers, which were evaded by jets. There were some close calls, near-misses, and then a NATO helicopter was taken down. We saw the flash, evaded, but the bastard got Jake’s engine. And his plane just came apart—as if it were made of nothing more than plastic. I looked for a chute. I prayed for a chute. We thought we were clear but… We weren’t clear.”
“Then what did you do?”
“Went around, came back in and bombed the shit out of that place.”
She was quiet for a second.
“It’s what we’re paid to do, Angela,” he said.
“I know, it’s just that I can’t imagine seeing a friend crash and then getting right back to the mission....”
“It was the only satisfying thing that happened that day,” he said. But he turned his head away.
She put her fingers on his chin and turned him back. “Have I said how sorry I am for your loss?”
He gave her a small smile and pulled her down beside him. “You’re a sweet girl.”
“You don’t treat me like a girl,” she said. “If I were really a girl, you’d be arrested.”
“But your uncle Jack was right, you know—I have issues.”
“We all do, Paddy. Including Uncle Jack. My aunts, Mel and Brie, have had some issues of their own—really tough stuff to get over. You’re not so different from the rest of us.” She gave his neck a kiss. “Can you fall back to sleep?”
Sometimes he was afraid to sleep, which left him tired and angry. But when Angie was around, things didn’t seem so cold and empty. “Snuggle up here, angel. Rock me to sleep.”
“My pleasure.”
But sleep was not what she thought would comfort him the most. She caressed him—his shoulders, his chest, his belly. She kissed his neck until he rolled toward her and took her mouth with a vengeance. His hands started to move and when she groaned her pleasure, he laughed deep in his throat. Any lingering trace of his nightmare was now gone.
They’d been together such a short time, yet it felt as if he’d known her a lifetime. They certainly got to know each other in a wonderfully intimate way. He grabbed her butt and turned her, fondled her, slipped his fingers into her and over her and got her wriggling toward a cl**ax. She stroked him until he was moaning and reaching toward her.
“I’ll be careful,” he whispered, reaching to the nightstand for his condom.
“Please don’t be too careful,” she whispered back.
Again that sexy laugh. “Feel like a wild ride, do you?”
“Any ride with you is wild.”
He knew every place to touch her, each erogenous spot that excited her, the movements that propelled her toward pleasure. When he hovered over her, spread her legs and entered her, she always gave him that satisfied sigh. When he rode her, she clung to him with a whimper of joy. He could always bring her to orgasm a couple of times before he took his own, and she couldn’t possibly know how happy that made him. That she responded to him so totally, gave herself so trustingly into his hands, let herself go like that… He was so grateful. It made him so happy he had to remind himself not to utter I love you.
Instead, he said, “Angie, I’ve never been with a woman like you. You’re everything. You’re amazing. Thank you for loving me like this, for giving me all the sweetness you give me.”
“It’s easy, Paddy,” she said against his lips. “You give it right back.”
* * *
From her spot in bed, Angie could hear Patrick on the phone in the great room early in the morning. “Are you sure I didn’t wake you?” he said to someone on the other line.
Marie.
“I just wanted to check in because I’m going to be busy most of the weekend—there’s a lot going on at my brother’s house. Big dinner with friends, the women are gathering up and baking stuff for Christmas charity baskets and the men will be doing some snowmobiling and hanging out. I wanted to make sure you have phone numbers for Colin and Luke. And you have this number if you need to talk—but I’ll be at Colin’s a lot. You know to call if you need me, right?”
He’s hanging out with me, Angie thought. But he doesn’t want Marie to know.
“Yeah, it should be fun. Do you have plans?” There was a pause. “Looking at houses? Wow, you’re getting serious about putting down roots. Isn’t it too soon for that? Shouldn’t you wait awhile?” After another pause, “I know, the right house takes a long time to find. Are you getting frustrated, living with your parents?” And then he laughed. “I can appreciate that. I’m way beyond living with my family.”
Angie burrowed down into the covers, listening. He wouldn’t talk to Marie in front of her or within her hearing. He thought she was asleep. Oh, Paddy, Paddy, what are you doing? Having your bad dreams and making love with me during the night, then calling Marie in the morning, almost like a guilty boyfriend?
She knew she’d never be enough for him. He wanted her, yet he didn’t think she could sustain him. He was looking for someone with experience at being a wife. She thought it might be a good idea to just walk away now, before things got even more intense, but she couldn’t, she just couldn’t. Not until the last possible moment.
“Are you feeling okay today?” Patrick said into the phone. “Well, I’ll be there soon, sweetheart. We’ll get through it.” And then he chuckled. “Yeah, he was kind of an ass last Christmas, wasn’t he? Would it help if I was an ass this Christmas?” More laughter. “I can probably do that without even trying. What? Here? Oh, this has been okay, all things considered. I’m glad I came....good to see Luke and Colin. It’s very cold, very white, sometimes very quiet.”
All things considered, Angie repeated to herself. Quiet? Except when you’re crying out in your sleep or making me scream your name at your touch. She turned over in the bed, pulled the cover over her head and blocked him out. He talked to Marie like a girlfriend he was tragically separated from.
Or…like a sister who had lost her husband.
She pulled the covers down, listening again. “Give the little guy a wop on the butt for me and tell him Uncle Paddy is on the way. I’ll be there on the twenty-third. Try not to be in the middle of buying a house when I get there. I’ll go looking with you.”
And then he was back, slipping under the covers and curling around her back. He nuzzled her neck, thinking he was nuzzling her awake. “I made the coffee,” he whispered.
“Thank you, Jeeves,” she said. “You’re good to have around.” She rolled over onto her back and met his lips, his arms around her.
“Didn’t your mother make you coffee in the morning?”
“She did,” Angie answered, breathless. “Somehow it wasn’t the same.”
He laughed deeply. “No?” He rolled with her until she was beneath him. He was ready again; he was ready a lot.
“I thought I heard you talking to someone,” she ventured.
Not even slightly distracted, kissing her neck and cheek and temple, he answered. “I called Marie to check in because I’m going to be busy all weekend. I hope you’re not too attached to this T-shirt....”
“Did you get some sleep last night?” she asked.
“Plenty. Enough to take care of any morning needs you might have.”
“Oh, Paddy…”
* * *
Angie also had phone calls to make. The best way to keep people who are inclined to get in your business from looking for you is to head them off at the pass. So she checked in with Mel and with Jack, gave them reports on her progress on Megan’s behalf and explained she was spending some time with Riordans over the weekend, mostly at Jilly’s farm.
And then there was her mother.
It was possible Donna had called her at the cabin several times already and had no answer. They talked almost every day and sometimes twice a day. This past week, while Angie had been busy thumping for donations, their conversations had been both brief and tolerable.
“How are you, Mom?” she said.
“Excellent, out shopping. But how about you?”
She explained the exciting success of her first week on the trail of money. “I can’t tell you how the look on Megan’s face made my heart beat. She looked so hopeful, so thrilled. I made so much progress, I’m going to schedule the surgery. There’s no doubt I can make this happen.”
“Oh, Angie, you must be so proud! What a wonderful way to spend a vacation!”
“Complete accident, but I agree. Nothing makes a person feel more worthwhile than being able to lend a hand.”
“And so you are! This plays right into your future plans to make a full-time commitment to lending a hand.”
Angie was silent. “Right,” she said, thoroughly baffled by her mother’s support. “Though I’m not quite sure how yet. That’s going to take research and application.”
“But there is no doubt in my mind you’ll find the best possible route.”
“All right,” Angie said. “You’re being completely supportive of an idea you hate. What’s wrong?”
Donna laughed. “Listen, we had a tough go for a while, you and I. I attribute my less-than-ideal behavior to stress and fear—something you’ll understand one day when you’re a mother. And I know you won’t believe this, but I realize I’m a strong personality....”
“Oh, really?” she asked with a laugh.
“We’ll have a frank discussion about that after you try managing a home, three daughters, three hundred students, a husband and a dean.”
Angie laughed.
“Three brilliant daughters who are so easily bored they mix chemicals…”
“Right, I get it, Mom.”
“And of the three, I have to get one who’s gifted in science, one in music, one in athletics. I teach journalism—did I get a writer among you?”
“You’re completely right—you’ve been screwed.”
“Ange, I miss you. Not just because you’re there in Virgin River, but because even when we were under the same roof, we were estranged. At odds. I want us to get beyond that. I take responsibility—I’ve been overbearing. You’re an adult, so I’m officially backing off.”
“Okay, you’re really scaring me now. How’s your health? Do you have a fever?”
Donna laughed. “Never better. My blood pressure is even down a little.”
“No more talk about the psychiatrist?”
“Listen, if you ever sense you’re having trouble with focus or memory or cognition, please let me know so we can get help with that before…” Donna took a breath. “No more. I’m leaving that to you. Unless there’s an emergency, of course.”