Hers for the Holidays (12 page)

“Let’s get these next two boring stops out of the way, and then we can hit the west end of the city where the main shopping is for toys.”

“How do you know that?”

“I picked up a bunch of local maps and tourist stuff when I was here at the airport. Always nice to know your surroundings,” he said, putting the bag in the backseat and opening the door for her.

They made their way through the city, bickering humorously as Ely refused to use the GPS Lydia had in her purse—at first—until they ended up in a puzzle of one-way streets that kept them going in circles for a while. Once he gave in, they made their way across town in some of the craziest traffic he’d ever been in, arriving safely at a boulevard with as many stores and plazas as he could imagine.

“This place always has good prices,” he said, pulling into the lot of one of the major discount stores.

It took a while to find a space—the place was crowded—but they finally did. Ely realized that Lydia was right; he had missed the toy-shopping trip with his brothers, and he was looking forward to this, especially with her.

Slinging his arm around her shoulders, they hurried across the lot as the wind picked up, slicingly cold as they reached the doors.

“Oh. My. God.” Lydia breathed, taking in the crowds and the lines.

“Well, it is almost a week before Christmas. Still up for it?” he asked, watching her closely.

She nodded, resolute, and said, “It’s a good thing I brought a bodyguard, though. If they stampede, I guess you have to throw yourself in front of them to save me, right?”

He laughed. “Yeah. I think we’ll just make use of some strategic avoidance techniques instead,” he added, taking her hand and leading her through the store, weaving a path of least resistance through the crowds.

“Over there.” Lydia pointed and to his surprise, Lydia gravitated directly to the dolls and he heard her whisper “yes” as she spotted something placed up high on the shelf.

“What did you find? You look like a woman with a mission.”

“Ink Baby,” she said with glee. “How can I resist?”

“Is that the one that caused such an uproar a few years ago?” Ely asked, and smiled at the surprised look she sent him.

“I was in the Middle East, but we had the internet,” he added.

“Ah, I guess I didn’t figure you followed consumer news,” she said. “But no, this is different. That one was a Japanese limited edition. It had the tats on the doll, complete with a spike collar, off-the-shoulder shirt and a spiky little dog on a chain,” she said. “It was cute. I actually have one, new in box.”

Ely was amazed. Another interesting secret about Lydia—she liked dolls. He never would have guessed that in a million years.

“And how is this one different?”

“This one includes tats as stickers that the kids can apply or not. The clothes are also more girlie, so you could just forget the tattoos altogether, but why would you? That’s the fun of it.”

“And no spikes or collars,” he added.

“Right. Though I don’t know what all the fuss was about. When we were kids, the bubble gum would sometimes come with the temporary tattoos you could put on if you licked your skin and pressed them on. We loved them, and no one cared. What’s the harm?”

Ely looked her up and down in a blatant, lascivious way, and she laughed, putting several boxes in the cart.

“Let’s also buy some Hex Bugs or construction sets that we give to boys and girls,” she added.

“And Matchbox car sets. Have to have those,” he added.

They also bought several yo-yos and containers of Play-Doh and Silly Putty.

“I like classic, simple toys. They teach kids not everything has to be expensive or fancy, and can still be loads of fun. My parents bought us Slinkys for every Christmas, mostly because we would try to walk them or hang them off of everything during the year, and always needed a new one by the next,” he said with a laugh.

“It sounds like you had a great childhood.”

“I can’t complain. We had our up and down times. My Dad lost his job once, and that was hard. Jonas had trouble with the department, of course, and then Garrett lost his wife—some tough times, but I think we got through them because of all the good stuff that came before that.”

“Garrett met someone in San Francisco, Tessa said,” Lydia commented.

“Yeah. Tiffany, I think her name is. I don’t know much since I was out of touch, but I guess she’s a private detective, and he’s completely besotted, from what I can tell, and it’s about time. We all wondered if he would ever find someone after Lainey.”

“That’s so nice that he’s in love again,” she agreed. “Is he staying there?”

“Only for Christmas, so she can be with her family before they move back here.”

“Your brothers are falling in love like dominoes,” she said with a laugh.

“Jonas and Garrett were ready, I think. I can’t imagine Chance ever settling down. He’s got plenty of women, but just like everything else, he’s in it for the adventure. Once that wears off, he moves on.”

“I wondered. He’s not home much, is he?”

“Not if he can help it. He likes to take the jobs that require more travel, which is good, given that both Jonas and Garrett will be staying closer to home now.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t mind the travel, but I’ve been thinking I might not want to stay in the bodyguard business permanently, either. I have some other goals I might look into after the holiday. Maybe talk with the guys about working part-time.”

Lydia’s surprise showed in her face. “How do you think they’ll be with that, especially since you’re starting to get some pretty big jobs?”

He shrugged, ignoring the prick of guilt at the back of his mind as Lydia voiced his own concerns. He didn’t know how his brothers would react, either, and he hated the idea that he might be letting them down.

“Well, we might be able to hire on, I guess we’ll have to see,” he said vaguely, steering their overloaded cart to the checkout area.

They left the subject at that, and Ely was glad. He was having a great time. As they chatted about their purchases and the festival, he realized that even standing in a long line at the store was fun when it was with Lydia. The thought should have worried him, but he pushed it away. Jonas and Garrett were ready to settle down, but Ely wasn’t—that hadn’t changed. Right now, watching her smile and unload toys with him onto the counter, he just wanted to enjoy the moment and was looking forward to the night ahead.

* * *

L
YDIA
HAD
HAD
a blast while toy shopping
, even amid the craziness of the crowded store, more than she ever imagined she could. The back of the Subaru was packed with their purchases and then they had stopped to buy more wrapping paper, bows and tape. This added more work to her already heavy to-do list, but she was so excited to imagine the kids finding their new toys under all of the trees. They would be wrapping gifts for hours tomorrow.

She was almost looking forward to it, smiling at the sneaky bit of Christmas spirit that had worked its way into her life. Maybe it was because she was doing all of this with Ely, as well as Geri, Faith and the others. In previous years, she had faced the holidays alone, in spite of Tessa’s frequent invitations for her to stay home or join her family for Christmas. It hadn’t felt right; how could she celebrate Christmas with someone else’s family when she didn’t even go home to see her own? So she avoided it altogether, except for calling her parents and sending them some gifts.

Other than that, Lydia avoided the holiday. She’d had a lot of very happy Christmases growing up, and after what had happened with Ginny, she wasn’t sure she deserved any more of them. But she was happy now—mostly, in moments. More than she had been in a long time.

She was also relieved to know that the tension she had detected from Ely earlier in the day had to be due to his thoughts about leaving the bodyguard business. She wondered about what other things he was thinking, but he hadn’t seemed to want to talk. She hadn’t pushed, and she questioned whether or not he trusted her enough to confide in her.

She stopped that train of thought, not liking how it made her feel. They were having a wonderful day, and she wasn’t going to ruin it.

“Where are you going? The highway ramp is behind us,” she said, perking up and noticing that they were heading back into the city instead of out of town. “I told you to use the GPS.”

Ely chuckled. “I thought we might grab some dinner. I don’t know about you, but that shopping left me starving.”

“You’re right. I wasn’t even paying attention to the time,” she said, looking at her watch. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled. Loudly.

Ely grinned. “I’ll take that as agreement. What’s your pleasure?”

“I think you have a pretty good idea of what I like,” she said, unable to resist the tease. She
was
hungry—in more ways than one.

“That I do,” he said in a low, promising voice that made her toes warm. “You like Middle Eastern food?”

“I like pretty much all food,” she said. “But yeah, that would be fun, if there is any. This isn’t Philly,” she joked.

He pulled into the lot of a small Middle Eastern restaurant a few minutes later, to her surprise, almost as if he had known exactly where to go. She looked at him with narrowed eyes.

He shrugged. “I spotted it on the way through town the first time.”

“So many new places have sprung up—it’s much more diverse and cosmopolitan than it was when I was here. People were too conservative to want much other than steakhouses and chain restaurants then,” she said as they walked in. “This place looks new, and amazing. We might have needed reservations, though.” There were a ton of cars parked out front. It seemed very busy. A positive sign that the food was good, but a bad sign for getting a table.

“I’ll talk to the hostess, no worries,” Ely said confidently, and sure enough, they were being led to a very nicely positioned table a few minutes later.

A small, low stage was only a few yards away, their view unobstructed.

“Wow, this is great seating for just walking in—the place is packed,” she said, glancing around.

“I guess it was just meant to be,” Ely said lightly, scanning the menu.

Something in his tone and how he didn’t meet her eyes made Lydia pause, but then she shrugged and studied the menu. Ely ordered some wine and appetizers, and they both chose their entres.

“That’s going to be a lot of food,” she said, chagrined. “And I noticed baklava on the dessert menu—can’t pass that up.”

“We can take any leftovers with us for a treat later,” he said, pouring the white wine just as the stage lit and a woman walked out in silence, bowing to the crowd. They didn’t clap, but made a vocal sound of appreciation Lydia knew was called
zaghareet.
She and Ely joined in, and then everyone quieted as the dance began.

The music was sensual, the low beat traveling through the floor where Lydia could feel it up through the soles of her boots, and she glanced at Ely, who captured her hand on top of the table as they watched. His thumb rubbed her skin in a rhythm that matched the beat of the dance as the woman gracefully bent and swayed in almost impossible ways.

Then, to Lydia’s amazement, the dancer moved to the edge of the stage and picked up a sword, balancing it on the top of her head as she danced, and then on her forehead as she bent to the floor, laying back in a deep backbend, her hips and arms moving as her torso and head stayed still.

It was one of the most wonderful dances Lydia had ever seen. Ely agreed, she thought, his hand tightening on hers just slightly. She noticed he had stopped watching the dance, though, and was watching her. She didn’t mind at all. Ely might seem like a white-bread kind of guy, she thought, but he loved things that were exotic and different. Perhaps from his time in other countries, she mused.

“The sword dance is traditional in a lot of Middle Eastern and African countries,” Ely leaned in and whispered. “It’s a symbol of her reverence for her husband or lover’s masculinity and honor. The dance with the sword and the care she takes with it is a symbol of her devotion to him,” he said.

“It’s beyond amazing how she can do that,” Lydia agreed, but was also impressed with his knowledge. Lydia made a silent New Year’s resolution to look up some local belly dancing instruction when she got back to Philly. Maybe she could get Tessa to go along, as well.

Their appetizers arrived when the dance ended, and they ate for a little while, appreciating the savory fare of olives, hummus and spicy lamb kabobs. But the more they watched each other, and touched each other, the less important dinner became than being alone. Lydia met Ely’s eyes, speculating how on earth they could make it through this meal and back to the ranch before they would give in and rip each other’s clothes off.

“Maybe we should take this to go,” she suggested none too subtly.

“Let’s enjoy it. We have time,” he said mysteriously.

And so they did, feeding each other bits from all of the plates. Ely fed her some of his with his fingers, letting them touch her lips incidentally, and Lydia was almost dizzy with need by the time she finished the sensual, slow meal.

They ordered desert and Ely asked the server to pack it up with their leftovers, obviously ready to go now, too. Once he paid, he headed to the door, her hand in his as he led the way. She wanted out, to get somewhere alone—and fast—where they could be alone to work off some of the heat.

Even the cold blast of air as they emerged from the restaurant didn’t dampen their arousal. They were barely inside the car when she crawled over to straddle him in the driver’s seat, kissing him with all of the desire that had built over the dinner.

“I don’t think I have ever needed anyone so much,” she said against his mouth, her breath coming in hard pants that steamed up the windows. “I can’t wait until we get back.”

He murmured agreement, his hands underneath her coat, holding her bottom and rubbing her where he was hard until she cried out.

“Unzip,” she said, moving to give him some room.