Wicked Christmas Nights: It Happened One Christmas. Leslie Kelly
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“Get a room!” someone yelled.
The jeer and accompanying laughter intruded on the moment. Sighing against each other’s lips, they slowly drew apart.
“Thank you,” he said after a long moment, during which he kept his hand on her hip. “I can check that off my bucket list.”
“Kissing in front of the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree?”
“No. Kissing you in front of the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.”
She couldn’t keep the smile off her face as they began walking the several blocks to her apartment building. Ross carried not only the bag with his robotic dinosaur, but also her snow globe. He had insisted on wrapping a crumpled napkin around her fingertip, but she didn’t even feel the sting of the cut anymore. Because the closer they got to home, the more she wondered what was going to happen when they arrived. That kiss had been so good, but also frustrating since she wanted more.
Much more.
Unfortunately once they reached her building, and she looked up and saw what looked like every light in her apartment blazing, she realized she wasn’t going to get it. Damn. “I guess Kate didn’t leave, after all,” she said, wondering why her friend had stuck around. It was nearly 10:00 p.m.; Kate and Teddy were supposed to get on the road hours ago.
“Your roommate’s still here?”
“Sure looks like it. No way would she leave all the lights on—she’s a total nag about our electric bill.”
Ross nodded, though he averted his gaze. She wondered if it was so he could disguise his own disappointment.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t had dates up to her place before; Jude had been over numerous times. It was just, she’d wanted to be alone with Ross. Really alone. And there was no privacy to be had in her apartment. She slept in one corner on a Murphy bed, with just a clothesline curtain for a wall, and Kate used the daybed that doubled as a couch the rest of the time.
Being with him in a confined space, under the amused, knowing eyes of her roommate, would be beyond torturous.
He seemed to agree. “What time should I come tomorrow?”
She raised a brow.
“You promised me the holiday weekend, remember?”
“You really meant that?”
He lifted both hands and cupped her face, tilting it up so she met his stare. “I absolutely meant that.”
Then he bent down and kissed her again. He kept this one light, sweet, soft. Still, Lucy moaned with pleasure, turning her head, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. Once again, the damned box was between them, and now, a dinosaur was, too. But maybe that was for the best. Kissing him—feeling the warm stroke of his tongue in her mouth—was too exciting. If his hot, hard body were pressed against her, she’d be tempted to drag him up the stairs and see just how much privacy a clothesline curtain offered.
Ross ended the kiss and stepped back. “Good night, Lucy Fleming. I’m really glad I met you.”
“Ditto,” she whispered.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
Then, knowing she needed to get away now, while she had a brain cell in her head, she edged up the outside steps. She offered him one last smile before jabbing her finger on the keypad to unlock the exterior door, then slipped inside.
Her heart light as she almost skipped up the stairs, she felt like whistling a holiday tune. For the first time in several years, Lucy was actually looking forward to Christmas Eve. Because she had someone so special to share it with.
As she opened the apartment door, she looked around the tiny space for her roommate. “I thought you’d be long gone by now,” she called.
Kate didn’t respond. Lucy walked across the living room to the galley kitchen, peering around the corner, seeing no one. Then she noticed the thin curtain that shielded her bed from the rest of the apartment shimmy. Strange. “Katie?”
The curtain moved again, this time fully drawning back. Lucy’s mouth fell open as she saw not her pretty roommate but someone she’d truly hoped to never see again. “Jude?”
“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for hours.”
“What do you think you’re doing here? How did you get in?”
“Had a key made a couple of weeks ago.” He smiled thinly, stepping closer, a slight wobble in his steps. Drunk. “It’s my birthday. You never gave me my present. I’ve been waiting for it a long time and expected to get it tonight.”
He stepped again. This time, Lucy saw a gleam in his eye that she didn’t like. Jude suddenly didn’t look like a drunk boy. More like a determined, vengeful man. One who might like her to think he was a little more intoxicated than he truly was.
She edged backward.
“Where you going? C’mon, you’re not really mad, are you? You know I don’t care anything about that skank. I was just frustrated, waiting for you. Guys have needs, you know.” He stepped again, moving slightly sideways, and she suddenly realized he was trying to edge between her and the door.
This was serious. Kate was gone, her next door neighbor was practically deaf and few people were out on the street in this area this late. And Jude knew all of those things.
“I still can’t believe you got some dude to come with you to my apartment,” he said, his eyes narrowing and his mouth twisting. “That was wrong, to bring some stranger into this.”
Ross. Oh, God, did she wish she’d invited him up!
Lucy’s thoughts churned and she went over her options, none of which included intervention by a knight in shining armor, or a carpenter in brown leather. Her brother had drilled college rape statistics into her head before she’d ever left home. He’d also taught her a few defensive moves. But better than trying to physically fight Jude would be to get him to leave.
She began thinking, mentally assessing everything in the apartment, knowing the knives in the kitchen were none too sharp. He now stood between her and the door. Her cell phone was in her purse and they didn’t have a land line—not that anybody she called, including the police, would get here for a good ten or fifteen minutes. In that time, he could do a lot. And, she suspected, that’s exactly what he intended to do.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, a sly smile widening that petulant mouth. “Don’t you want to give me something for my birthday? After making me wait all this time, you owe me.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” she snapped, curling her hands into fists, deciding to go for the Adam’s apple.
“Yeah, bitch, you do,” he snarled, the mask coming off, the pretense cast aside. Any hint of the sloppy drunk disappeared as he rushed her,