Home for the Holidays (6 page)

She nodded. “Yes, but if that's not possible, then I'll probably consider moving to Charleston.”

“You get the house, but what about a husband and maybe a couple of kids?”

A wry smile twisted her mouth. “I can't think that far ahead.”

Collier shifted on his side. His callused fingertips grazed her forehead as he leaned closer and pressed a kiss over each eye. “What did he do to you?”

Iris felt as if she'd just turned on a faucet that hadn't been used in years, letting the water flow until it turned from black to rust and finally clear when she told Collier about meeting high-profile D.C. litigator Derrick Harris and marrying him six months later. “Even though I wasn't a virgin, we made love for the first time on our wedding night.”

Collier froze. “Is that something you both agreed to?”

She nodded. “He insisted on it because of his very strict Christian upbringing, and I had to respect that. But what should've been one of the most enjoyable nights of my life bordered on rape. No matter how much I screamed that he was hurting me, he refused to stop. The next day he pleaded with me to forgive him because he'd waited so long to make love to me that he'd gone temporarily insane.

“It was another month before we tried it again, and the result was the same. It was like he felt he needed to dominate me in and out of bed. That's when I moved into the spare bedroom and put a lock on the door. It was all about appearances when we were out in public together. No one would've ever suspected we weren't sleeping together. Soon Derrick began scrutinizing everything I wore. It couldn't be too tight, reveal too much skin, and most of the clothes in my closet were either navy blue or black. No reds because he didn't want people think he'd married a harlot.”

She told Collier that the only time she felt totally free was at the Baltimore high school where she taught art to a small group of very talented students. She hated coming home where her overcritical husband complained that he'd married the wrong woman because she refused to measure up to his standards, and whenever she talked about divorcing him, he threatened to ruin her life so she'd never teach again.

“There were times when I'd asked myself what I could have done to make my marriage work, but in the end I realized I could never become his ideal. I wanted so much to confide in a few of my colleagues, but I knew they wouldn't understand. They kept telling me they were jealous because I'd managed to snag one of the Beltway's most eligible bachelors. If they'd known the hell I was going through, their jealousy would've turned to pity.

“We'd just celebrated our first anniversary when his mother asked when I was going to make her a grandmother. I told her never, and then she went into a rant that my role as a wife was to submit to her husband and give him children. I was past being polite and respectful when I told her if she wanted grandchildren, then she should've taught her boy that rape isn't the same as lovemaking.

“Later that night, I found myself completely blindsided when he came home earlier than usual and sucker punched me, breaking my nose and fracturing my left cheek. He started to strangle me, but I managed to escape and make it to my bedroom where I locked the door and called the police. By the time they got there, he was gone. They took me to the hospital where I contacted my father and told him what had happened. I don't know how Daddy got from Fort Benning Georgia, to Baltimore so quickly, but when he saw my face, he swore he was going to kill Derrick. Once he calmed down he asked if I was going to file charges for spousal battery.”

Sitting up and cradling her face in his hands, Collier asked, “Did you?”

“No. All I wanted was my freedom and my name. I hired a prominent divorce attorney, telling her everything about my wedding night, the subsequent rape, and the assault. Even though I didn't report the assault to the police, hospital records documented what had taken place. I was granted an annulment and a significant settlement if I swore never to disclose the details of our marriage because Derrick had decided to go into politics.

“The money allowed me to start over when I applied to the Art Institute of Raleigh-Durham for culinary arts. After graduating I got a position with a popular Charlotte restaurant chain, but left four months later because the executive chef verbally abused his staff. Once again I loaded up my car and hit the road. After a while I knew I had to stop running, realizing my inability to stay in one place for any extended period of time stemmed from moving from base to base as a child.

“That's when I stopped in Charleston. I spent a week there touring the Sea Islands. Then one day I took the ferry to Cavanaugh Island. It had to be karma when I saw the
HELP WANTED
sign advertising for a pastry chef at the Muffin Corner. Lester said he would hire me on the spot if I could make three fondant leaves, flowers, and hearts, unaware I'd excelled in cake decorating. He kept his word and hired me. I lived at the Cove Inn for two months before this apartment became available.” She exhaled an audible sigh. “So now you know all of the sordid details of my short-lived marriage and why I hadn't slept with a man in years.”

Collier brushed his mouth over hers. “Didn't you realize he was the sick one, not you?”

“Sick or not, I blamed myself for not leaving him the first time he raped me, that I'd stayed too long and if he hadn't hit me I probably would still be married to the sicko. I know inviting you to my place was risky, but somehow I'd felt safe with you. And if you'd turned out to be crazy, all I had to do was tell Sheriff Hamilton that Scrappy did it.”

Collier laughed loudly. “Damn. Poor Scrappy can't seem to catch break.”

Her laughter joined his. “But didn't you tell me Scrappy has been redeemed?”

“Yes.” His smile vanished, his expression becoming a mask of stone. “But unlike your ex-husband, Scrappy would never hit a woman. My father taught me real men don't hit or abuse women, and that's something I've never forgotten.”

Iris felt Collier withdraw from her although he hadn't moved. She'd just bared her soul and now she needed him to do likewise. “What do you want for your future, Collier?”

The popping sound and the shower of burning embers flared behind the fireplace screen, temporarily garnering Collier's attention. He still couldn't believe Iris's ex-husband had raped her; that despite everything she still hadn't fallen apart. He stood up, reaching down and bringing her to stand.

“Come dance with me.”

Iris wrapped her arms around his waist. She recognized the song. Brenda Russell's “Piano in the Dark.”

The smile parting Collier's lips slipped into a wide grin as he spun Iris around and around in an intricate dance step. “You smell good enough to eat.”

Leaning back, Iris's grin matched his. “Didn't you just say you'd eaten too much?”

They continued to dance without moving their feet. He pressed his mouth to her ear. “I left a little room so that I can taste you.” It took a full minute before Iris caught his meaning. “Did I embarrass you?”

“Of course not,” she said quickly. “You didn't answer my question.”

Collier groaned inwardly. Now he knew why Tracy and Iris were such good friends. Both were unyielding when they wanted something. He couldn't have been more explicit; he wanted to make love to her and she wanted to know about his future. “I want to give the military two more years before hanging up my uniform.”

“What do you plan to do after that?”

Collier stared down at her. “I have a few options. I have a one-third share in Happy Hour, but I'd rather remain a silent partner. I'm thinking about buying the auto body shop in the Cove. The owner's looking to retire in a couple of years.”

“You want to become a mechanic?” Iris questioned.

Collier thought he detected a note of incredulity in her question. Did she believe dating a mechanic was beneath her social station? After all, her father had graduated from West Point, her mother was an aspiring artist, and her brother a veterinarian.

After enlisting he'd taken advantage of many of the incentives and benefits the Army offered, and one was earning a college degree, something his mother had always wanted for her children. “Yes. I can take apart and put a car's engine back together, but I prefer restoring classic cars.”

“Like
Classic Car Restoration
?”

He nodded. She'd mentioned the reality TV show that had become one of his favorites. “Yes. My father had sixty-four and sixty-eight Mustangs, and I filled in as his apprentice when he restored them to mint condition.”

“Did he sell them?”

“He sold the sixty-eight, but wouldn't part with the sixty-four. It was one of the first to come off the assembly line during its inaugural year. It's parked in the garage behind the house. As soon as I check it out, I'll take you for a drive.”

Cradling her face in his hands, Collier's tongue traced the fullness of her lower lip. “It's getting late and you need your sleep, so I'm going to head on home.”

He'd mentioned going home when it was the last thing he wanted. Sharing Thanksgiving dinner with his sister, niece, and Iris's family had made this homecoming even more momentous. If he stayed over tonight, he'd never hear the end of it from Tracy. The last thing he wanted was for his sister to believe he was taking advantage of her friend's vulnerability.

“Do you have an extra set of keys?” he asked Iris.

Her forehead furrowed in confusion. “Yes. Why?”

“I want to come over tomorrow morning to make breakfast. Afterward you're going back to bed where I'm going to give you the extra-special Ward full-body massage to help relax you.”

Her eyes grew wide. “But my folks are coming over?”

“James told me they're not coming until six, so don't try to wiggle out of my wanting to take care of you.” Collier kissed her forehead. “Remember, we're not going to have a lot of time to be together, so what do you say? Yes or no?”

When Collier walked into the apartment earlier that afternoon asking to date her, Iris had felt as if she'd been enveloped in a cocoon with a happiness expiration date stamped on the outside. Collier would only be around for another couple of weeks and then he'd be gone. And yet, here he was, offering her a chance at…She didn't want to say love, because falling in love with him wasn't an option. But trust perhaps. If nothing else, maybe Collier could finally teach her to trust a man without looking for an ulterior motive in his interest.

“Wait here,” she told him.

Iris went into her bedroom and retrieved a second set of keys to the apartment, knowing her life was about to change. She planned to give a man the keys to her sanctuary.

Iris returned to the living room, reached for Collier's hand, placed the keys in his palm, and closed his fingers over them. “Yes.” Going on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “Good night, and thanks for making this Thanksgiving one I'll remember for a very long time.”

Collier ran a finger down her nose. “Good night, babe. Sleep well.”

C
ollier walked into the kitchen, stopping short when he saw Tracy sitting at the breakfast nook, sipping coffee, while flipping the pages of a magazine. He thought she would've slept in because schools were closed.

Her head came around when he moved closer. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked, smiling.

Reaching into an overhead cabinet, Collier took down a coffee mug. “I could ask you the same thing.” He filled the mug with coffee from the carafe on the countertop.

Tracy pushed several twists off her forehead, her eyes narrowing behind the lenses of her glasses. “You know I'm a creature of habit. I tried to force myself to stay in bed, but once the sun came up, I decided to get up.”

Slipping on the bench seat opposite his sister, he peered at her over the rim of the mug. “The girls were still up giggling when I got in last night,” he said, then took a sip of the steaming brew. “What's up with girls that they have to giggle so much?”

“You'll know the answer once you have a daughter. And don't look at me like that,
Scrappy
, because I ain't scared of you.”

Collier struggled not to laugh. “You just can't let Scrappy rest in peace, can you?”

Tracy stuck out the tip of her tongue at him. “Nope, because underneath the spit shine and polish Master Sergeant Ward you'll always be Scrappy.” She paused. “What time did you get in last night?”

He lifted broad shoulders under his faded sweatshirt. “It wasn't late, maybe around ten.”

“Did you ask Iris if she would go out with you?”

“What's this, sis? An inquisition?”

She pushed up the glasses that had slipped down the bridge of her nose. “No.”

Collier drained the mug, rinsed it, and placed it in the dishwasher. Then he walked to Tracy, leaned down, and kissed her hair. “Yes, I did ask her,” he whispered. “And she said she would.” He stood straight. “I'm going out.”

“Where are you going?” Tracy asked, grinning.

Turning on the heels of his running shoes, Collier waved to her as he walked out of the kitchen. “See you later, Tracy,” he drawled. He didn't need her monitoring his whereabouts. But then he had to remember that Tracy was always in mother mode and a tad overprotective when it came to him and Layla. If he'd managed to survive serving in two war zones, then he had nothing to worry about while on his home turf.

Opening the front door, he stepped out onto the porch. The rain had stopped and the warmth had returned. Minutes later he backed the rental out of the driveway, heading for the business district. Collier slowed when he spied the banner hanging from lampposts as he maneuvered onto Main Street:
WELCOME HOME, M.SGT. COLLIER WARD
.

“Damn,” he swore under his breath. His name and rank were strung across the street among the colorful Christmas decorations. He knew it would only be a matter of time before everyone in the Cove knew he was back. Cavanaugh Islanders loved traditions and honoring those who'd served in the military, beginning with the Revolutionary War to the war in Afghanistan.

There was another sign advertising caroling and sleigh rides for children under ten. New York City had its Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, Philadelphia their Mummers' Parade, and for Sanctuary Cove it was a Winter Wonderland Festival held the weekend before Christmas. It began at five in the evening and ended at midnight, weather permitting. The festival brought out locals and tourists alike.

The merchants belonging to the chamber of commerce went all out when they hired a company to spray fake snow on the streets and sidewalks. Vehicular traffic was replaced with horse-drawn sleighs, and vendors lined the sidewalks selling carnival-type foods; the only thing missing were the carnival rides.

The only event to eclipse the post-Thanksgiving celebration was the summer island-wide celebration, which began July 1 and ended with a spectacular fireworks show at midnight on the Fourth of July. The carnival-like events included amusement park rides, picnics, and fun and games for all ages. Even when he'd attended military school, Collier always returned home for Thanksgiving and the Cove's Winter Wonderland Festival weekends.

He'd missed the past three celebrations, but this year he looked forward to sharing it with Tracy, Layla, and Iris. The clock over the bank read seven o'clock, and with the exception of the supermarket and the Muffin Corner, none of the other stores had opened for business.

Collier had traveled the world, and still he felt more at home on an island where everyone knew everyone and their business. He maneuvered into the parking lot between Jack's Fish House and the variety store and walked the short distance to the rear of A Tisket A Basket.

Unlocking the door to Iris's apartment, he recalled the conversation he'd had with her father. James had asked if he was aware of what his daughter had gone through with her ex-husband. Collier was forthcoming when he repeated what Tracy had told him, but at that time he hadn't known the full extent of the abuse. That's when the retired colonel told him in no uncertain terms that he would willingly spend the rest of his life in jail for killing the next man who hurt his daughter.

Collier hadn't blinked an eye when he told James he'd walk away from Iris before hurting her. She'd suffered enough. However, Collier suspected Iris didn't know her own emotional strength. She'd survived and started over with a new career, new friends, and a place she could call home.

He opened the door, encountering silence, and left his running shoes on the mat. Helping to put away leftovers had afforded Collier a glimpse of the contents in Iris's well-stocked refrigerator. He planned to prepare a traditional Gullah breakfast with grits, scrambled eggs, and sausage gravy.

Collier had grown up eating Asian-fusion and Lowcountry cuisine. However, it was the Gullah dishes he favored most. His paternal grandmother had taught all her sons to cook the dishes indigenous to the region, and Garrett in turn taught his wife. His parents would occasionally compete as to who made a particular dish the best. His father usually won because his wife would invariably include an Asian spice, which would subtly change the flavor.

Making his way to the kitchen, he heard singing coming from the bathroom. Slowing, he peered inside to find Iris in the shower, singing loudly. Collier could make out the outline of her body through the frosted glass, and it took all his willpower not to strip naked and join her.

Without warning the singing stopped and the door to the shower opened, Iris stepping out onto a mat, dripping wet. She didn't notice him standing there like a deer caught in the headlights until she reached for the towel from a stack on a low bench. With wide eyes, she watched his approach. Collier took in everything about her in one sweeping glance: firm breasts perched high above a narrow waist; a flat belly; firm, slender thighs and legs. Moisture shimmered on her hair and face turning her into a bronze statue.

The quiet storm beginning in his groin roared to life so quickly Collier had to grit his teeth to keep from moaning. If only he'd come ten minutes later, he wouldn't have caught Iris naked.

He heard a sound, then realized he was gasping in order to catch his breath. “Oh, sweet heaven,” he moaned aloud. Collier stood inches away from Iris, their gazes meeting and fusing. “Iris?”

She closed her eyes against his intense stare. “What is it, Collier?”

“Can we do this?”

She opened her eyes, nodding and smiling. “Yes, we can.”

With a body like that, with the look of shocked desire in her eyes, he had no choice but to sweep her into his arms and carry her to the bedroom. It took mere seconds to muss her neatly made bed and shuck off his jeans and T-shirt. Reaching into his pocket, he took out a condom and placed it on the nightstand.

Collier got into bed and turned Iris on her belly. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he lowered his head and trailed a series of kisses beginning with the nape of her neck down her spine to her buttocks. He heard her breathing quicken at the same time a tremor swept over her body.

Collier wanted to be inside her, but he also wanted foreplay. His mouth and tongue tasted every inch of her damp skin, and then he repeated his exploration when he turned her over to face him. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he massaged the muscles there before giving her neck and scalp the same attention, smiling when she let out a soft moan. His hands charted a course down her body to her hips, thighs, legs, and feet, then reversed direction.

“I did promise to give you a massage,” he whispered in her ear.

“That feels so good.” Iris gasped when his fingers gently kneaded her shoulders.

Collier brushed a light kiss over her parted lips. “Let me know if I'm hurting you.”

A dreamy expression crossed her features. “It's perfect.”

He kissed her neck, then moved lower across her breasts and down her ribs to her stomach.

He stopped long enough to slip on the condom before burying his face between her legs and inhaling her essence. Collier tasted her, tentatively at first before his tongue plunged inside her, rasping her most sensitive places over and over. The hair on the back of his neck stood up when she screamed his name in pleasure and bucked with one of the strongest orgasms he'd ever seen.

Iris felt as if she'd been immersed in an inferno from which there was no escape. Heat surged from her head to her fingertips and to her toes. “Collier!” His name tore from the back of her throat, then faded to a sigh as her head thrashed wildly on the pillow. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as he moved up her trembling limbs.

With minimum movement, he positioned her on her knees, moved behind her, and eased his erection into her. A sensual groan came from deep within Collier's throat as he slid home. Iris felt his testicles hitting her buttocks with each sure thrust of his hips. She'd thought it couldn't get any better than his mouth on her, but she'd been wrong. He filled her so full and deep. She held on to the headboard, moaning softly when his hands cradled her breasts.

The walls of her sex closed around him, and together they found a rhythm that quickened, slowed, and increased again as shivers of giddy desire and ecstasy turned into explosive currents shaking them from head to toe as they climaxed at the same time.

Collier's weight was a welcome comfort, as he collapsed atop her. She felt a distinct sense of loss when he withdrew to take care of the condom. She languished in a cocoon of completeness she hadn't known possible. And for the first time in her life experienced the full range of her femininity. Waiting for a man like Collier to make love to her had been more than worth it. He had taken her to a place of exquisite sexual ecstasy like she'd never experienced.

She smiled up at Collier when he returned to the bed. Her Mr. Last Night had become her Mr. Right Now, and she looked forward to enjoying every moment they would spend together until it was time for him to return to North Carolina.

He slid between the covers smiling, and stared deeply into her eyes.

“Good morning.” His voice was still rumbled with a promise of even more pleasure.

“Good morning. It seems we can't keep our hands off each other,” she said with a smile.

“What's wrong with that?” he asked.

“What happened to dating?” she countered. “I know you only have a few weeks here, but last night you wanted to do ‘do things right.'”

“Is it so wrong that I find you completely irresistible?”

Iris dug her fingernails into his back. “Collier, I'm serious.”

“Okay, babe. I'm sorry.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Do you like going to the movies?” She nodded. “How about a dinner date?” Iris nodded again. “Then there's the Winter Wonderland Festival. Will you go with me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you willing to go back to Happy Hour for date night or Sunday brunch?”

Her smile was dazzling. “Yes and yes.”

Collier winked at her. “I guess that takes care of the few things we can do in your spare time.”

Iris traced his eyebrows with the tip of her finger. “Starting Tuesday, I'm not going to have a lot of spare time until the end of the year. Christmas is the busiest time of the year for the Muffin Corner. If we're not filling orders for the locals, then it's corporate gifts. Last year I lost count of the number of trays of cookies and gingerbread houses we shipped overnight to customers as far away as Connecticut. I'd come home every afternoon and collapse, sometimes not waking up until the next morning.”

“I think I can help you out.”

“How?”

“Now that I'm home you don't have to come over and wait for Layla's school bus. I can also start dinner for Tracy and make certain Layla does her homework. So if you want to come home and go to sleep you can without having to get up for Layla. If you don't mind, I'll come by every night and check on you.”