Christmas With The Single Dad. Sarah Morgan

it didn’t. His lips were an intriguing combination of firmness and softness and they parted slightly as if he meant to deepen the kiss. Then he froze and his hands came up, gripped her arms and pushed her back as he sat up. ‘What do you think you’re doing? Kissing me better?’

      His scorn almost scorched the flesh from her bones. ‘I …’

      ‘I’m not a child, Nicola.’

      It was too much. His anger … Her guilt and remorse. That final punch had torn the lid off the emotions she’d bottled up for the last three months. She tugged herself out of his grip and stumbled blindly across to a wooden crate and collapsed on top of it, her back to Cade as she tried to tamp down on the pain and numbing sense of loss that cut deep inside her, but now that it was freed it seemed to grow in both volume and intensity.

      She’d punched Cade in anger!

      And then she’d kissed him. What on earth had she been thinking? The expression on his face …

      I think your ex is a two-timing cheating scumbag and your best friend is a back-stabbing witch.

      The words ripped off the poorly formed scab she’d tried to place over her heart and, try as she might, she couldn’t control the sudden shaking of her shoulders or the silent sobs that clawed free from her chest or the tears that scorched her cheeks as her body tried to find a way to lance the poison that tangled her in knotted torment. Dropping her head to her hands, she could do nothing but give into it.

      Somewhere, in a dim place of her consciousness, she was aware of embarrassment and her mother’s scornful voice. Nicola Ann, pull yourself together! You’re not a child any more. What a display! You’re making a spectacle of yourself. But none of it had any effect. It didn’t stop the shaking and the sobs. It didn’t help the pain.

      An arm went about her. Her face was pressed against the thick scratchy cotton of a work shirt encasing a warm chest that smelt of dirt and sweat and horse. A hand rubbed her back and a rich voice murmured words that didn’t make sense except for their rhythm and depth, and very slowly the pressure in her chest abated. The shaking of her shoulders slowed. The sobs eased and the tears dried.

      She remained where she was, drawing as much comfort and strength as she could until the internal voices grew too loud to ignore and she finally drew back, scrubbing her hands across her face in an effort to erase the traces of her tears. She didn’t dare glance at Cade. Instinct told her his expression would score her too-vulnerable-at-the-moment heart, and she refused to cry again today. She’d need more deep breaths before she could face that.

      ‘I went too far.’ His voice broke the afternoon silence. ‘The thing is …’ he drew in a shaky breath ‘… I wanted to insult Brad and Diane. I don’t know them and I have no right to say anything, but I am so dirty with them for what they’ve done to you. Nobody deserves what they did. Especially not someone like you, Nicola.’

      She had to look at him and he gave her a rueful half smile and it didn’t make her flinch or cringe. It helped her lift her chin and push her shoulders back a fraction.

      ‘I think,’ he continued, ‘you would be a great friend to have. And I think you were probably a lovely fiancé, and you sure as hell didn’t deserve what Brad and Diane did.’

      His words put strength back into her spine. ‘No more than you deserved what Fran dished out to you.’ She moistened her lips and glanced down at her hands. ‘I’m sorry I hit you. Did I hurt you?’

      He shook his head. ‘I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. But I deserved it. I was deliberately trying to rile you. You thought I was going to block it.’

      ‘I wasn’t thinking at all, that’s the problem. I just lashed out.’

      They were both silent for a moment. She moistened her lips again. ‘Why were you trying to make me angry?’

      One of his shoulders lifted. ‘I sensed you might need to vent some of your anger. I remember how angry I was in the months after Fran left and …’ He shrugged again. ‘I thought boxing would be more constructive than a treadmill.’ He eyed her for a moment. ‘It seems to me you’ve been bottling a lot of stuff up. It’s not healthy.’

      ‘I didn’t mean to. I …’ She rested her elbows on her knees and dragged her hands back through her hair. ‘It’s just that my two closest confidants were Diane and Brad, and they weren’t exactly available. And there was no way I was going to confide in my mother.’

      ‘What about your other friends?’

      ‘I didn’t want to cause a big rift among our set. I didn’t want people feeling they had to take sides.’ She straightened. ‘And the honest truth is, I don’t want to lose Diane and Brad as friends. I really don’t.’

      Behind the blue of his eyes she could see his mind race, but he said nothing.

      ‘Diane and I go all the way back to our first day of school. Her family have been there for me all my life. They were a haven for me when my father died, and whenever my mother became too much, and … and just everything! I can’t turn my back on all that history just because she fell in love with Brad.’

      ‘That doesn’t mean you can’t acknowledge your pain or your anger. If she values your friendship as much as you do, then it will survive that.’

      ‘And if she doesn’t?’ She spoke her real fear out loud for the first time.

      Cade didn’t say anything, but she could read the answer in his eyes—if their friendship couldn’t survive her honesty, then it wasn’t worth saving.

      She leapt up and started to pace. Gripping her hands together, she swung back to Cade. ‘You know, I could’ve dealt with all of this so much better if they’d just been honest with me from the get-go. Instead, they kept meeting up behind my back for months before Diane eventually confessed what had happened. Brad didn’t even have the courage to show his face that evening.’ She flung an arm out and then started to pace again. ‘I know they didn’t want to hurt me, I truly believe that, but to let it all go on for so long without telling me …’

      She folded her arms and paced harder, faster. ‘That made me angry. That made me feel like a fool, like an idiot they didn’t have any respect for. I …’ She gripped her upper arms. ‘I kept wondering what on earth I’d done wrong, how had I managed to so spectacularly alienate them. Had I neglected them? Had I not picked up on key signals? I mean, Diane told me that I had always been too needy and that she felt pressured, but …’ She swallowed and lifted her chin. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?’

      Cade shot to his feet. ‘Hell, no!’ He cupped her face in his hands. ‘You didn’t do one damn thing wrong.’

      His eyes blazed with a ferocity, an intensity that did her soul and her confidence no end of good. ‘Oh, hell, Cade.’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘What?’

      ‘I said I’d be her bridesmaid,’ she whispered.

      Just for a moment his entire face went slack in shock. Very gently she disengaged herself from his hands. It seemed wiser not to get too close. Or needy. Because there had been a thread of truth in Diane’s accusation, and Nicola had no intention of transferring her neediness to Cade.

      ‘And I’m starting to think that maybe that was a crazy thing to agree to.’

      He rolled his eyes. ‘You think?’

      She collapsed back down to the crate, her shoulders sagging. ‘The thing is, we always said we’d be each other’s bridesmaids—best friends forever and all that jazz, but …’ She glanced across at Cade as he sat back down beside her. ‘But now I don’t think I can do it.’ She swallowed. ‘I don’t want to do it.’

      ‘Why did you say you would?’

      ‘Because I do wish Diane and Brad well. I know I sound contradictory and conflicted, and that I’m angry and hurt.’ She stared at her hands. ‘But