Tropical Holiday Tails - Zoe Chant Page 0,37

the embrace. “Ew, Mom, you’re crying. You’re not allowed to do that except on alternating Tuesdays.”

Caroline let him go and stood up as she wiped her eyes. “I’m starving,” she admitted. “Did you eat?”

“Oven corn dogs and a bag of chips,” James told her with shrug.

Caroline groaned. “I buy vegetables, you know.”

“What do I look like, a rabbit?”

“Red pandas eat plants,” Caroline teased him.

“My panda and I are in agreement that corn dogs are the superior source of protein.” James sat back down in his gaming chair and started to put his headphones back on. “That island better have WiFi,” he told her as Caroline started to leave. “And Mom…”

She paused in the doorway.

“Merry Christmas!”

It was excruciating, waiting for Caroline’s return to the island.

Liam read every book that Breck assigned him, from elegant collections of poetry that he appreciated for their quality, to novels so trashy and explicit that Liam was surprised that they’d been put in print. Maybe not terribly surprised.

“This is really how it works?” he asked Breck skeptically. “I mean...heaving? Thrusting? She gushes?”

“It varies delightfully,” Breck said cheerfully. “Every specimen is completely different, every encounter entirely new.”

“Then how do you know what to do?”

“You read the room,” Breck told him. “You try things and pay attention, ask, and listen. If she’s having fun, and you’re having fun, you’re doing it right; there’s no one way.”

He lent Liam videos that were not so much educational as they were grueling.

Why are we doing this? his dragon asked, as bored as Liam.

We’re going to figure out how to be what she needs, Liam insisted. He winced and hoped she wouldn’t want what was happening on the screen at that moment. His dragon was surprisingly unconcerned about the issue.

The only thing that got him through it all were the emails.

It started with a very brief, professional email asking her about supplies. He agonized over the correct tone, and right measure of friendliness, and finally ended with “I can’t wait to see you again.”

She responded with an email exactly as efficient, and finished, “I’m looking forward to seeing you, too.”

Liam fabricated another reason to email her, signing his letter, “I am delighted to hear you may be back by Christmas. Do you do anything to celebrate?”

And that unleashed a delightful, warm email exchange about how Caroline was regretting that they wouldn’t have a tree that year because they were in the throes of packing, and stories about favorite presents and singing carols and candlelight services at church.

Holiday food was the next topic, and general food from there, until they were sharing recipes, and then comparing music and media and somehow that turned into childhood stories and long, rambling exchanges about their ambitions and regrets.

Every word felt like a promise, every little red flag on his laptop or phone was a moment of anticipation and eagerness. He was a disaster at duties, constantly distracted, desperate to escape to read her messages over and over, to carefully compose his replies.

His sign-offs gradually moved from ‘Regards, Liam’ to ‘Yours most truly, Liam’ and he agonized over committing to ‘Love, Liam.’ Would that assume too much?

Hers were always simply, ‘Caroline.’

But sometimes they had sideways text hearts.

He was baffled that he could crave something so completely…to miss being able to see her, to hunger for touching her...and still not want her in the ways that were expected. Dozens of times, as their emails grew more intimate, he wanted to tell her what he was, how he was different. Each time, he deleted the confession. It should be done in person, he convinced himself.

But he knew he was simply afraid of disappointing her.

So he read every book Breck handed him, and watched every movie, and tried to make sense of the sex by sheer force of will.

Finally, there was a date set: she was coming a few days before Christmas. There were several babies due early in the new year, and Scarlet suggested that it would be a nice treat to attend the big staff dinner; the restaurant was the only part of the resort that had been completed. Caroline assured her that wouldn’t disrupt any existing plans. Liam, who had despaired of seeing her until after New Year’s, felt like he was in a flurry of anticipation.

It rather suddenly occurred to him that there were important things that they hadn’t discussed, like where she would live. Would she move in with him? Liam didn’t want to presume she would want to, especially if he failed in his