He kissed her temple and nuzzled her hairline and just held her until she was all cried out beneath the warm spray.
“I don’t know why I’m crying so much,” Viv said, even more exhausted now the crying had stopped. “It’s not like it’s my own personal store.”
“Yes it is,” he murmured. “This one probably more than any of the others because you had to earn this one.”
The fact that he was so insightful, that he’d articulated what she’d been thinking earlier, made her want to cry all over again but she really did have to go tell the big boss that, for the first time in Delish history, a store had been destroyed by fire.
Yes, even if it was almost one thirty in the morning. On Christmas Day.
She was on the phone for half an hour going through everything and taking notes, which kept the ever-present well of emotion below the surface. Harriet was so concerned and so kind and Reuben hovered, bringing her tea and massaging her feet, sitting up with her while she chatted with the big boss.
God…the thought of leaving here and having to say goodbye to him was particularly hard right now.
And then after she ended the call he shepherded her into bed, convincing her to at least give it a try despite Viv being adamant she wouldn’t sleep. Her brain was just too busy. But, as he shuffled in behind her and every part of his front touched every part of her back and his arm tucked in around her, her eyelids started to flutter shut and she realized he was right.
She was so damn tired.
Which was Viv’s last waking thought before plunging into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Ten
Reuben wasn’t surprised that Vivian slept late the next day. She wasn’t some kid who’d been counting down the weeks, days, hours and minutes until Santa came. She was a grown woman who’d watched everything she’d strived and worked for the past almost two months literally go up in a puff of smoke. As his boss had said, she’d suffered a trauma and that kind of emotional exhaustion cut deep.
Sadly, he’d seen that in his line of work too often. But, the body was a remarkable thing, knowing innately the best way to recoup—physically and psychologically—was to sleep.
It wasn’t some kind of instantaneous cure all but it helped.
A fact backed up by Vivian who woke just before lunch, subdued, yes, but with color back in her cheeks and some spark flashing from behind her eyes. She’d been so wan and pale last night, so…passive—he’d been worried. Thankfully she’d woken with some of that spunk he was used to and with an appetite.
For Pop Tarts.
Reuben pointed out there was probably a special place in hell for people who ate Pop Tarts washed down with red wine for Christmas lunch but she wolfed down three in quick order with more color coming back to her cheeks and he’d have toasted the whole damn packet for her if she wanted.
He was sure the baby Jesus would understand.
But if he thought the rest of the day would follow his plan then he was sorely mistaken. Firstly, she’d tried to leave and go visit the shop and he’d had to remind her it was boarded up and couldn’t be disturbed until the investigators from Bozeman got there tomorrow. Then, instead of spending the afternoon cuddled up on the couch in front of the fire, watching It’s A Wonderful Life she spent hours next to him on her laptop, her glasses perched on the end of her nose as she made copious notes about God knew what while he watched the movie. She also took three brisk, efficient Skype calls, all rehashing the fire with different members of the Delish team.
The real kicker came though, when he reminded her they had to be at his parents’ in half an hour and she blinked at him, obviously having forgotten. She grimaced. “Do you mind if I beg off? I’m afraid I’m not good company now and I really just want to get this report done while everything is fresh in my mind.”
And she returned her attention to her laptop.
Reuben totally understood about not wanting to be social after such a horrid event yet still he felt a cold prickle at the base of his spine. Holding her close, feeling the tension in her body as they’d watched the shop glow orange last night, then sitting with her in the shower shouldering the weight of her grief, he’d never felt closer to Vivian.
But today—on Christmas morning—he felt like she’d erected some kind of barrier between them. That she was withdrawing. Doing it deliberately too—even if it was subconsciously due to the ordeal she’d been through. And that churned in his gut.
“Of course not,” he said with a smile, “we can stay here. I’ll just ring Mom and let her know.”
She glanced up at him, alarm in the set of her brow. “What? Oh no, Reuben, don’t be silly. I’ll be fine here but you have to go—it’s Christmas.”
Yeah but…he didn’t want to go. Not without her. “There’ll be other Christmases.”
“Reuben…no.” She shook her head. “They’re your family.”
He swallowed as another bar in that barrier clanged into place. What if he wanted Vivian to be his family, too? Oh Jesus…
He wanted Vivian to be his family.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Don’t fall in love with me she’d said. And here he was, fallen so deeply his ass was being broiled by the molten magma at the Earth’s core.
The sinking feeling in his gut felt terminal. Merry fucking Christmas, dickhead.
“Which is why they’ll understand,” he pressed as his brain madly scrambled to find some kind of equilibrium.
“Your mom already has doubts about me.” She unfolded herself from the couch and stood, pulling off her glasses and putting them and her laptop down on the table beside the couch. “I don’t want her thinking I’ve thrown some kind of hissy fit and made you stay at home with me.”
“She wouldn’t think that, Vivian,” he said softly. “She’ll understand me being here with you.” Wanting to be here with you.
The woman I love.
“I don’t care…I can’t…” She started to pace. “Reuben, there’s been enough upheaval in this past day, please don’t cancel on your mom like this.” She stopped and looked at him, a plea marring her features, her hand raking through her hair, pushing it off her face. “It’s not fair to her when you’re supposed to be there soon. I would feel terrible.”
Reuben did not want to go without her but the distress in her voice was genuine and, for a second, he thought he even saw a glimmer of moisture before she blinked and it was gone. But even the hint of it was like a sledgehammer to his chest—seeing her undone last night had been bad enough.
“Okay.” He held his hands up in surrender. “It’s fine, I’ll go. It’s okay.”
She came to him then, sliding her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest and hugging him tight. Reuben slid his hand into the hair at her nape and rubbed lightly. “But I’m only stay for a couple of hours and then I’m coming back here.”
She nodded and he thought he heard a sniffle before she whispered, “Thank you.”
*
Reuben pulled into his parents’ house half an hour later, so not feeling the joy of Christmas. He walked up the front path, blind to the beauty of the clear starry night as his warm breath misted into the freezing air and the cold hurt his lungs.