A Second Chance Road Trip for Christmas Read online

  “I’m surprised you bought donuts,” she said. “I figured that was too indulgent for you, especially at Christmas. I know there’s a ton of dessert at your family’s house this time of year.”

  He shrugged. “You like them. So I got some.”

  The smile slid off her face and she was back to looking like she had earlier this morning, when she refused to stay burrowed under the covers with him.

  “What’s wrong?” He yearned to reach out and caress her cheek, but he kept his hands to himself.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said brightly, then turned to look out the window.

  He studied her profile. She really was the prettiest woman he’d ever known.

  He loved the faint wrinkles and stretch marks, the fact that her body wasn’t exactly the same as it had been before. She could pass for being younger than thirty-four, but she was a little different from her teenage self, and he liked being able to see that time had passed. She was still Tasha, but now she had the career she’d worked so hard for. He’d have to ask her more about her job on the ride back.

  She’d also admitted she wanted a relationship, and he wanted to give that to her.

  Except she didn’t seem keen on being with him for more than a night.

  “Did you talk to Crispin this morning?” he asked, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

  “No.” She held up a Timbit and changed the topic. “I dare you to eat one of these before your breakfast sandwich.”

  He grimaced.

  “Oh, come on. It’s just a donut. Live a little.”

  It seemed she was bent on torturing him again: she had his least favorite Timbit in her hand.

  “Powdered...sugar,” he stammered.

  Greg hated powdered sugar. It probably had something to do with a little incident that happened when he was three years old. His grandfather—his mother’s father, who’d been dead for a dozen years now—had taken him to a bakery in a nearby town, and somehow he’d ended up with a large donut covered in powdered sugar. Not just a little donut hole—no, a full donut. Greg had gleefully bitten into the donut and waved it around in the air...and started crying when the powdered sugar got all over his favorite sweater. Most kids probably wouldn’t have been bothered, but Greg had always been concerned with neatness and order, even from a young age, and he’d thrown a temper tantrum in the bakery.

  Anyway, he still hated powdered sugar because it was messy. This particular donut, he knew, had jelly inside. That was tasty, but the powdered sugar he could do without.

  At the same time, he kind of wanted to eat it now, before his sandwich. Show Tasha that he wasn’t a total stick-in-the-mud.

  “Alright,” she said. “No powdered sugar. Sour cream glazed instead.” She held up another Timbit, once that was mercifully less messy. “I dare you to eat one sour cream glazed Timbit before your breakfast sandwich.”

  Everything in him tensed at the thought of eating dessert first. It went against the rules, and Greg loved the rules.

  Though he missed having a little chaos in his life.

  His childhood had been too full of chaos. He was the oldest of four, and his parents hadn’t exactly run a structured, ordered household. There was always one catastrophe or another, someone shrieking in his ear.

  But his life in Toronto had gotten a little boring, to be honest.

  “Sour cream glazed is the best one,” Tasha said, shaking the Timbit.

  “I thought birthday cake was your favorite.”

  She shrugged. “People change.”

  Well, yes, and Tasha changing her Timbit preference didn’t fundamentally change who she was, whereas him eating a jelly donut covered in powdered sugar, while wearing a pristine argyle sweater, seemed a little more of a stretch.

  “Pass me the jelly one,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrows and handed it over.

  Greg held it close to his face. Geez, this was one messy fucker of a donut. Nothing should be dipped in powdered sugar—or cocoa powder, for that matter—and it seemed like this particular donut had an extra-generous amount of powdered sugar.

  He was going to eat this. He had to. Somehow, it seemed like eating this little donut symbolized something important.

  All in one bite—that was probably the best way to minimize the mess.

  He looked down at his sweater, which he didn’t want to get dirty before nine in the morning. It was, in fact, his favorite sweater. He wasn’t sure whether it was weird for a thirty-four-year-old man to have a favorite sweater, but he did.

  And then he had an idea.

  Chapter 9

  Tasha didn’t understand what was going on.

  Greg was staring at the donut as though it contained the solution to climate change. Then one corner of his mouth quirked up, and his expression changed from thoughtful to mischievous.

  She was a sucker for that look.

  He put the Timbit down.

  Huh? If he wasn’t going to accept her challenge to eat a donut before his breakfast sandwich, then why the playful look?

  He slid his thumb and finger into his mouth and sucked off the powdered sugar, holding her gaze the whole time, before wiping his hands on his corduroys.

  Next, he pulled off his sweater and collared shirt and threw them on the bed.

  What on earth was happening? He was going to get hypothermia in this freezing room.

  Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but...

  “You’ll be cold,” she said.

  “For thirty seconds. I’ll survive.”

  She dropped her gaze from his eyes to his chest. He looked quite nice without a shirt, a light dusting of hair covering his muscled chest. “Are you trying to seduce me again?”

  “Again? You’re the one who propositioned me last night.”

  “You kissed me first,” she said accusingly.

  “After you touched my face.”

  “If you’re not trying to seduce me, why are you half-naked?”

  “So I can eat this donut without getting powdered sugar all over my sweater.” He spoke as though this was the most sensible thing in the world.

  “I offered you a sour cream glazed donut. Why didn’t you eat that one?”

  “I decided to live dangerously.”

  And with those un-Greg-like words, he popped the whole Timbit into his mouth.

  There was zero mess. He hadn’t needed to remove his shirt, not that she didn’t appreciate the view.

  He wiped his fingers on his chest, right above his nipple. “You want a taste?”

  “I thought you weren’t trying to seduce me.”

  “Maybe I changed my mind.”

  “Nah, doesn’t sound like you. I bet this was part of your plan all along.”

  She couldn’t help herself. She leaned forward and swirled her tongue over his nipple. He made a strangled noise in his throat—he’d always had sensitive nipples.

  When he kissed her mouth, tasting of sugar and jelly, she dragged him back to bed.

  * * *

  “Holy smokes, it really did snow a lot,” Tasha said as they stepped outside. It was like a winter wonderland out here. “Must have taken a while for you to clean off your car. You should have asked me to help.”

  Greg shrugged. “You were showering. It’s no big deal, though it would have been easier had it been drier snow.” He picked up a clump of snow in his bare hands, formed a snowball, and tossed it on the ground. “I’ll pay for the room, and then—”

  “No. We took your car. You bought the gas, plus you provided breakfast and dinner. I’ll pay for the room. It’s half-price, anyway.”

  “Very well.”

  Ten minutes later, they were on their way to Mosquito Bay. The roads weren’t great, but at least it wasn’t snowing anymore and there were no visibility problems. The sky was a brilliant blue, and Tasha ought to be happy.

  She was going home for Christmas. She’d been looking forward to this for weeks. But as she looked out over the snow-covered fie
lds, there was an emptiness inside her.

  Their road trip was only supposed to be three hours. Certainly no more than four or five. Instead, they’d had to spend the night in a motel during a snowstorm.

  Yet she was sad it was coming to an end. Her time with Greg was almost over.

  No more arguing about Christmas music. No more pillow talk when the power was out. No one to bring her a Coffee Crisp and kiss behind her ear and go down on her under the covers.

  She shook her head. This was ridiculous.

  They were listening to CBC now, and Greg’s gaze was firmly on the road—as it should be. She looked at him in profile, his glasses perched on his nose.

  God, why did she find him so attractive? There were a few strands of gray at his temples, and those made her smile. Why?

  He was stubborn and serious...except when he wasn’t, and did silly things like take off his shirt to eat a donut. He was the same Greg he’d been in high school and university...except not quite. He’d grown up. They’d both grown up. And apparently grown-up Tasha was still wildly attracted to Greg Wong.

  Being with him didn’t feel like she was living in the past, but she couldn’t start something up with him again.

  Or could she? Maybe?

  She pulled out her phone and texted Monique. I slept with him. Twice.

  Tasha! I told you...

  I know, I know.

  Oh, honey. What were you thinking? Now I don’t want to wish bad sex on you, but I kind of hope it was like kissing a frog. Or toad. Or salamander.

  Glad you know your amphibians.

  I do my best.

  The sex was good, Tasha said. It was more than sex, actually. I might want him back.

  There. She’d admitted it. Now Monique would talk some sense back into her brain.

  No!! her friend said. After Lance, you swore you’d never get back together with an ex, remember? You told me not to get back together with Joey, and I wish I’d listened to you. We broke up for exactly the same reasons the second time. You don’t want to make the same mistake twice, like me.

  Tasha didn’t consider her long-ago relationship with Greg a mistake; as she’d told him, she had no regrets. But Monique was right. You learned from what happened and moved on. Reuniting with an ex never ended well.

  We’re going out on New Year’s Eve, Monique said, and we’re going to meet cute guys. No assholes or exes. Unless you’re still seeing Crispin?

  Oh, Crispin. Tasha couldn’t go out with him again. Being with him was nothing like Greg. Greg was wonderful, and the woman who ended up with him would be lucky indeed, but he wasn’t for Tasha. She needed to listen to her friend and let this go.

  However, as they got closer and closer to Mosquito Bay, she couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from him. It was only ten thirty. They could stay together a little longer, couldn’t they?

  But what could they do?

  Ah. She had it. The ground was covered in snow, and it was good packing snow.

  She turned to Greg. “Want to build a snow fort?”

  * * *

  Greg hated when people changed their plans on him.

  The plan had been to drive back to Mosquito Bay and drop Tasha off at her parents’ house, then go home to his obnoxiously loud family.

  He wanted to see his family. He did.

  He just wasn’t in the mood for them right now.

  No, he’d do anything to spend more time with Tasha. He was glad she’d suggested a snow fort. It sounded perfect, even if they were too old for this. Building a decent snow fort would take a while.

  “Sure,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

  When they entered Mosquito Bay, instead of continuing along Main Street, he drove to the park overlooking the water and parked nearby on the street. Then he texted Nick. Won’t be home for a couple more hours. Don’t worry. We’re safe.

  Then he turned off his phone, expecting an avalanche of texts in response.

  “Alright,” he said. “Are we going to build a snow fort shaped like an igloo? Or just something with high walls, like the one I made for you in university?”

  He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Usually if Greg spent so much time with one person, he started to go a little nuts, but he didn’t want to be separated from Tasha again.

  She’d freaked out this morning, but maybe this snow fort business was a sign that she was changing her mind about him.

  He couldn’t help but hope.

  She smiled at him, and it hit him right in the chest. Goddammit, how had he gone so long without her?

  “We won’t make it very big,” she said, “but tall enough so no one can see inside. It’ll be like Rapunzel’s tower.”

  “Why don’t you want anyone to see inside?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Oh, no reason.” She was already climbing out of the car, but she winked at him over her shoulder.

  For a long time, they worked in silence, starting with the base of their snow tower and building upward. He enjoyed simply being in her presence, doing something with her. It was a bright winter day. Cold, but not frigid, and it didn’t bother him at all, as long as he got to be with her, and perhaps make out with her inside the snow fort afterward.

  “Greg,” Tasha said suddenly, “are you humming ‘Winter Wonderland’?”

  He realized in horror that he was, indeed, humming a Christmas song.

  But he just shrugged and kept on humming.

  At long last, their snow fort/tower was ready. Greg grabbed one of the sleeping bags from his car. He threw the sleeping bag into the snow fort first, then crawled in. Tasha followed him and rolled their giant snowball door in front of the entrance.

  They were all alone, surrounded by snow.

  “It’s smaller than the snow fort you made in university,” she said. “How long did it take you to build that one, all by yourself?”

  “A long time.”

  Tasha was sitting next to him, both of them with their knees bent, their sides touching—there wasn’t much space in here. It was quite cozy.

  He wouldn’t have it any other way.

  He unzipped the sleeping bag and put it over them like a blanket before wrapping his arms around her. Most of her skin was covered by winter clothes, but he kissed her where he could. Her ear, her nose, her temple. He pushed her scarf down and kissed the top of her neck. And with every kiss, he thought, I love this part of you...and this part...and this part. I love that you drive me crazy. I love that you’ve accomplished what you set out to do in life. I love that you didn’t compromise your dream for me.

  She kissed him, too. His cheek, his nose. Fortunately, he’d already safely stowed his glasses away.

  They were in their own little world, blue sky and sunshine above them, and he didn’t ever want to leave, even if it was cold. Because as long as they were here, it was just the two of them; the rest of the world didn’t matter. As long as they were here, she would be in his arms.

  He sucked on her bottom lip, and then they were kissing each other as though their lives depended on it, her mouth so sweet against his; faintly, he could taste the donuts they’d indulged in earlier, and he smiled.

  He wanted all kinds of kisses with her. Inside-a-snow-fort kisses. Goodnight kisses. Hello kisses. Goodbye-I’m-leaving-for-work-and-I’ll see-you-this-evening kisses. Please-stop-listening-to-CBC-programming-so-we-can-fuck kisses.

  But what if this was all he’d have?

  She fumbled with the zipper on his pants, then slipped her hand inside and wrapped her hand around the length of him. Her face was so close to his, watching him. Could she tell how he felt?

  She pumped him harder, and he bucked his hips.

  He needed to touch her, too.

  When he slid his fingers inside her, she was warm and wet for him. Even after all this time, even when they were outside in the snow, she wanted him, and he was in awe of it. He stroked her slowly, the catches in her breath magnified in the little snow tower.

  “How are
we going to do this?” she asked.

  “How are we going to fuck, you mean.”

  “Yeah.” She giggled. “I love when you say that word.”

  “Do you? I can use it more often.” He paused. “I think fucking would work best with you on my lap.”

  She pushed her pants and underwear down to her knees. It wouldn’t be possible to get them any further off. Plus, it was cold.

  But they had each other’s body heat.

  He rolled on the condom he’d stashed in his pocket, and she lifted herself up on her knees and lined up the tip of his cock with her entrance. Slowly, she sank down on him, and he tipped his head back and groaned.

  Christ, she felt amazing.

  He opened his eyes, and her face was right above his. Her lips parted in pleasure as she began to move.

  Even if she walked away when this was over, he’d always feel inextricably linked to her.

  He’d always belong to her.

  He kissed her as she sank down on his cock again and again, her arms wrapped around him, her mitten-covered hands on the back of his neck. There was too much clothing for his liking, but still, they were together.

  He took off his glove, licked his finger, and circled it over her clit. Their breaths came faster and faster. When she shattered, he held her tight and he pumped into her a few more times, finding his own release inside her.

  * * *

  They hadn’t talked on the walk back to his car, and they hadn’t talked during the short drive to her family’s house.

  Now, they were sitting in the driveway, their time together coming to a close.

  “Tasha,” he said, “I had a good time with you these past twenty-three hours and six minutes. Would you...” He swallowed. He couldn’t manage to say everything he felt, everything he wanted, so he went with, “Would you want to see me again while we’re both in town for the holidays? Go out for coffee and Timbits at Tim Hortons, perhaps?”

  She met his gaze before looking down.

  “Maybe,” she said at last.

  It wasn’t a no, but not quite what he’d hoped for. Even as he felt a heaviness in his chest, he couldn’t help wanting to make her smile. “You know who I met when I left the motel room to go to Tim Hortons? Herbie.”