Read Online Christmas in Whitehorn by Susan Mallery - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Mallery
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, neighbors, Montana, Man-Woman Relationships, Love Stories, Christmas stories, Christian, Neighborliness
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the initial plunge into the world of reality had come at the hand of circumstance, once she'd been forced to face her own lacking character, she had done her best to do better. Five years later, she could honestly say she was proud of who she was.
Was she proud after last night or this morning?
The lovemaking had been incredible. Darcy had forgotten what it was like to have a man touch her bare skin – to feel his body next to hers, entering hers. She'd been starved and Mark had fed her. But now what? Did she really want to have an affair with a man she barely knew? Or did she want something more?
She wasn't crazy enough to think she was searching for true love. She had her doubts about being lucky enough to find someone who would adore her and be willing to deal with Dirk. She knew her brother was an amazing person, but not everyone could look past his developmental issues to see the gentle heart inside.
So she'd given up on the fairy tale, instead resigning herself to a life alone. The move to Whitehorn had cut her off from her hard- won support group. She needed to make friends, finding people she could both like and trust.
But would Mark be interested in being a friend or was he only in it for what he could get?
*
Mark knocked on Darcy's front door at ex- actly two minutes before six. He'd wanted to wait until a couple of minutes past, but he'd been too eager, too aroused. He'd already imagined her opening the door and ushering him inside. He'd thought of gathering her in his arms and kissing her until they were both breathless with passion.
But reality didn't live up to fantasy. For one thing, Darcy wasn't smiling when she opened her door. For another, she wouldn't look at him.
Her whispered hello did little to alleviate the sudden ache in his gut.
"What's wrong?" he asked as she stepped into her living room.
"Nothing." She brushed her hands against her black slacks and motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa.
He hesitated. While he appreciated the polite gesture, he couldn't help remembering that twenty-four hours before they'd been making love on that same piece of furniture.
"Darcy?"
She crossed to the window and parted the blinds to look out. "I'm fine, Mark. It's just…" Her voice trailed off. She glanced at him, then away. "You're not going to like this."
The bad feeling got worse. "Why don't you say it and let me be the judge?"
She nodded, still without looking at him. Her short, blond hair was a mass of curls. Lamplight brought out the shades of gold in the strands. One small hand lingered on the blinds.
"I can't do the sex thing," she said without warning. "I know it doesn't make sense to you. We've done it twice, so what's the big deal, right? I mean it's a new century and we're all contemporary single people. Ex- cept I'm not. I didn't mean to have old-fashioned values. I didn't even know that I had them. Suddenly they were just there." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "I'm sorry. You probably want to go now."
Mark tried not to think about the two condoms in his back pocket. He shoved his hands into his front pockets and stared at her back.
"What changed your mind?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I didn't like what I was thinking about myself. I'm not saying I didn't enjoy the sex … I did, it was great. But there has to be more."
He turned away and swore under his breath. This was just his luck, he thought grimly. He wanted sex and she wanted… He didn't know but he was sure he wouldn't like it. She was right – he should leave. Except, somehow, leaving seemed like the wrong thing to do.
"Mark?"
"What?"
"You can go. Really. It's okay. You didn't ask me out or anything. We have no emotional connection or hint of commitment between us. My inviting you here for Thanksgiving was entirely my idea. You don't owe me anything."
"I know."
He did know. Yet he couldn't seem to get his feet heading for the door.
He reminded himself he wasn't looking for a relationship. He couldn't ever
Was she proud after last night or this morning?
The lovemaking had been incredible. Darcy had forgotten what it was like to have a man touch her bare skin – to feel his body next to hers, entering hers. She'd been starved and Mark had fed her. But now what? Did she really want to have an affair with a man she barely knew? Or did she want something more?
She wasn't crazy enough to think she was searching for true love. She had her doubts about being lucky enough to find someone who would adore her and be willing to deal with Dirk. She knew her brother was an amazing person, but not everyone could look past his developmental issues to see the gentle heart inside.
So she'd given up on the fairy tale, instead resigning herself to a life alone. The move to Whitehorn had cut her off from her hard- won support group. She needed to make friends, finding people she could both like and trust.
But would Mark be interested in being a friend or was he only in it for what he could get?
*
Mark knocked on Darcy's front door at ex- actly two minutes before six. He'd wanted to wait until a couple of minutes past, but he'd been too eager, too aroused. He'd already imagined her opening the door and ushering him inside. He'd thought of gathering her in his arms and kissing her until they were both breathless with passion.
But reality didn't live up to fantasy. For one thing, Darcy wasn't smiling when she opened her door. For another, she wouldn't look at him.
Her whispered hello did little to alleviate the sudden ache in his gut.
"What's wrong?" he asked as she stepped into her living room.
"Nothing." She brushed her hands against her black slacks and motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa.
He hesitated. While he appreciated the polite gesture, he couldn't help remembering that twenty-four hours before they'd been making love on that same piece of furniture.
"Darcy?"
She crossed to the window and parted the blinds to look out. "I'm fine, Mark. It's just…" Her voice trailed off. She glanced at him, then away. "You're not going to like this."
The bad feeling got worse. "Why don't you say it and let me be the judge?"
She nodded, still without looking at him. Her short, blond hair was a mass of curls. Lamplight brought out the shades of gold in the strands. One small hand lingered on the blinds.
"I can't do the sex thing," she said without warning. "I know it doesn't make sense to you. We've done it twice, so what's the big deal, right? I mean it's a new century and we're all contemporary single people. Ex- cept I'm not. I didn't mean to have old-fashioned values. I didn't even know that I had them. Suddenly they were just there." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "I'm sorry. You probably want to go now."
Mark tried not to think about the two condoms in his back pocket. He shoved his hands into his front pockets and stared at her back.
"What changed your mind?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I didn't like what I was thinking about myself. I'm not saying I didn't enjoy the sex … I did, it was great. But there has to be more."
He turned away and swore under his breath. This was just his luck, he thought grimly. He wanted sex and she wanted… He didn't know but he was sure he wouldn't like it. She was right – he should leave. Except, somehow, leaving seemed like the wrong thing to do.
"Mark?"
"What?"
"You can go. Really. It's okay. You didn't ask me out or anything. We have no emotional connection or hint of commitment between us. My inviting you here for Thanksgiving was entirely my idea. You don't owe me anything."
"I know."
He did know. Yet he couldn't seem to get his feet heading for the door.
He reminded himself he wasn't looking for a relationship. He couldn't ever
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