The Happy Endings Book Club (21 page)

“Oh god, Harry.”

And lick.

“Oh god.”

And lick. His hands grabbed her arse, clutching her cheeks, and lifting her up so he could lick and lick until she screamed and grabbed hold of his hair.

“Oh my … ohhhhh …”

And just as she came, he thrust his tongue deep inside her, as she pulsated around it.

He lifted her into his arms as her legs melted beneath her. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“End of the hall,” she purred.

He strode into her room, tossed her on the bed and tore his own clothes off. Sadie’s eyes widened when she saw his cock.

He moved on top of her, eyes locked. ‘I’ve wanted to be inside you from the moment you walked into that restaurant.”

And with that he was.

And it was so fucking good. He devoured her, mentally, physically. And she wanted him, how she wanted him. She wanted to fuck his mind, his soul … not to mention that massive cock.

The third time she came, she cried. He was, bar none, the most amazing lover she’d ever had.

Which goes to show what a weird sense of humor God has, because she simply wasn’t attracted to him. She wasn’t.

Oh god, why did she sleep with him? Yes, she’d been horny. She hadn’t been laid for ages. She certainly hadn’t expected to get laid last night, though, especially once she laid eyes on him. But it was Christmas Eve. She still wasn’t used to spending Christmas Eve alone while the kids were with Craig. And the cocktails had made him more attractive.

Drink till he’s cute. That had been her motto last night.

Because there was no way she was actually attracted to him.

She glanced at the clock: 9:10 am. She needed to get moving. Craig would be dropping the kids back at ten. Having her one-night stand greet the kids at the door on Christmas morning would never win her mother of the year. But more importantly (which once again illustrated what a dreadful mother she was), she didn’t want Craig to see him.

Craig, who’d been the most stunning man Sadie had ever met.

Craig, who still turned heads everywhere he went.

Craig … who only ever dated women who looked like they’d just stepped out of a magazine.

Yes, she’d had her moment of glory herself, but that moment was over the instant she tore her perineum during childbirth. Craig had never again looked at her the same way. From that moment on, she was flawed. She simply couldn’t let Craig see that she’d shagged someone like Harry. It was embarrassing. He had to go.

She tapped his shoulder. “Ah … ’scuse me … morning.”

“Hmphrumpole …”

How charming … he could speak in tongues. And then Sadie remembered she already knew that factoid. He was quite a cunning linguist.

There was that molten heat again.

She pushed him a bit harder. “Hey … wake up.”

He stirred.

Finally one lazy eye opened after another … well, one opened … the lazy one just lolled there. Last night Sadie had found it quirky, but in the harsh light of day it was downright disturbing.

“Morning,” he grinned.

“You have to go,” she said.

He reached for her, but she dodged his embrace and slipped out of bed. “My ex is dropping the kids home.”

“Would you like me to meet them now?” he asked.

Now? As opposed to … never
, thought Sadie. “Some other time.”
June 2087
.

“Sure, no hurry.”

He stretched and then lumbered out of bed. He was enormous. Beside him Sadie felt tiny. She forgot about the extra weight that had been bothering her for months. She felt like a little twig of a thing. And she liked that.

He stepped into his boxer shorts as she watched. He wasn’t fat at all. Maybe an extra pound or two, but most of his body was solid. She imagined he’d been quite a looker when he was younger, and then silently berated herself. She had been too. But his arms were big, and his chest endless, in a rugged, cave man kind of way.

He noticed her watching and smiled. “I had fun last night, Sadie.”

She blushed. “Yes … it was lovely to meet you and hear all about your work.” What a ridiculous thing to say in her underwear. Next she’d be asking if they could be penpals.

But she did enjoy hearing about his work. She enjoyed every word he uttered. Suddenly she felt so out of her depth. She was awash with feelings she didn’t understand and didn’t like. She felt completely vulnerable. She wanted him to leave.

He seemed to sense her confusion, and before she could stop him, he drew her into his arms for a hug. She froze.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Yes, you too.”
Okay, let me go now.

He held her tight. She responded like limp lettuce.

He didn’t let go. She sensed he was like that about a lot of things.

And then, against her better judgement, she began to relax. She hugged him back. So he wasn’t Hugh Jackman, but he was a nice guy. Perhaps they could be friends. She knew he was alone for Christmas. He told her that he saw his family on Boxing Day. She wrapped her arms as far around his big frame as she could, and held him tight. How good it felt. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had held her like he cared. She breathed in his scent. It was strong and yet familiar. It stirred something deep inside her. His embrace did something that she thought impossible—it made everything okay.

She pulled away, her mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts. They stared at each other. There was a moment of pure heat between them and she suddenly needed him inside her.
Needed
him, like she’d never needed anyone before. And then … the doorbell rang. She could hear laughter, and her daughter calling out, “Merry Christmas, Mummy.”

“Oh shit, my kids. They’re early.”

Sadie grabbed her jeans and shimmied into them. “Oh shit, no, this is not good.”

“It’s okay, don’t freak out. I’m a friend who dropped by for Christmas breakfast. All good.”

She paused, looked at him. He was calm. He was right. “Good idea.”

Sadie threw on her shirt, tied her hair back in an elastic band, and raced out of her room and toward the front door. “Bugger, bugger, bum.” She raced back and found Harry, now fully dressed. “Wait in the lounge,” she told him, “it’s just down the hall.” Then she raced for the front door again.

And then she opened it, and standing there were her reasons for breathing. Stella, six, Max, five … faces alight with Christmas excitement. She threw her arms around them.

“Merry Christmas, my munchkins.”

“Look, we got iPads!” squealed Stella.

Sadie pasted a fake smile on her face. More inappropriate gifts from their dad. “That’s great. How about you run inside and look under the tree? And I’ve got a friend in there who’s having breakfast with us, so don’t get a fright.”

The kids disappeared and Sadie looked at Craig.

“A friend?” he said, a sneer on his face. “What sort of friend, Sadie?”

She said nothing. He’d lost the right to an explanation the moment he shagged Michelle from the gym.

“Merry Christmas, Craig.” And with that she closed the door on him. Yes, she’d had the last word. Damn that felt good. She put her eye to the peephole. He was still standing there, one finger raised at her. Bugger, he knew her too well.

She could hear the kids talking in the lounge room. And then a deeper voice, followed by the three of them laughing. She quickly made her way toward them and then paused at the door.

“Are you sure you’re not Santa? You look like him.”

“No, I’m not Santa.”

“But you have the same beard,” said Stella.

“And kind eyes,” said Max.

Sadie almost fell over. Kind eyes? What a bizarre thing for him to say.

“I really, really, really think you’re Santa,” said Max.

“I hope you are,” Stella giggled.

“Hmmm … well, I’m not. But I do know Santa.”

“YOU DO?”

“Yes, he’s my second cousin, on my father’s side. That’s why there’s the resemblance.”

“I knew it!” Max said.

“You’re a very cluey kid.”

“What’s Santa like?”

“He’s nice. I occasionally see him at family get-togethers. But he’s very busy, especially leading up to Easter.”

Max and Stella thought that was hilarious. “Not Easter! Christmas.”

Yeti-man slapped his forehead. “You’re right, I meant Christmas.”

Sadie entered the room. “So you’ve met my friend Hagrid.”

“Er … Harry.”

“I mean Harry.”
Shit, shit.

“Mummy, Harry is Santa’s cousin.”

“I know. I heard.” Sadie smiled.

Harry stood, dwarfing the Christmas tree. “Anyway, I’d better be off and let you guys open your presents.” He gave the kids a wink. “Let me know if you’re not happy with them and I’ll email my cousin.”

“You said he was here for breakfast,” Stella whined.

Sadie looked at him. Max was right. He had such kind eyes. “Why don’t you stay for breakfast?”

Harry smiled. “Are you sure?”

Sadie almost fell over as Stella slipped her hand into Harry’s. “Please stay for breakfast.”

Sadie looked at her children as a wave of shame engulfed her. They saw magic in this man. She’d been so caught up in the superficial things that she’d missed it. Almost.

“I’d love you to stay,” she said. And she meant it.

Stupid, stupid, she was so stupid. She’d spent months falling for Samantha’s lies. She’d spent money she didn’t have coming over here. She’d ignored the warnings from people who cared about her: Paige, her parents, Sadie and Amanda. And Debra. God, she’d been so dismissive of Debra, when she’d been right all along.

And now she was all alone for Christmas in a city she already despised.

Clementine sobbed all the way back to the hotel. As soon as she was in her room, she threw herself on the bed. What she’d give to be at home now, with Deb, watching movies and eating one of her seriously delicious cheesecakes.

She blew her nose and scrounged through her bag for her phone. She checked her phone and saw three messages from Deb.

So what’s happening? Have you met Sam?

Then an hour later:

Can you give me an update so I know you’re okay?

Another twenty-seven minutes later.

Just fucking let me know you’re not in a ditch somewhere!

Clementine laughed through her tears. Debra came across as so tough but she was like a mother hen. She messaged her back.

I’m okay. I’m in my hotel room.

Debra’s response pinged back almost immediately.

Thank god. I was getting worried. So are you with Sam?

It was killing Clementine to admit it, but if she couldn’t talk to Debra about it, then who could she talk to?

I messed up, Deb. She was horrible. She lives with someone.

Clementine waited for Debra’s reply. It was bound to be funny. She waited. And waited. Nothing, so she messaged her again.

Deb, did you get my last message?

No answer.

No doubt you’re rolling around the floor laughing. Or getting your “I told you so” speech ready.

There was a knock on the door. Clementine walked over to answer it, glancing at the screen of her phone as she did, willing Debra to answer. She swung the door open and …

“I wasn’t getting my ‘I told you so’ speech ready. I was legging it up from the hotel cafe, where I’ve been sitting for the past three hours.”

“Deb!” And Clementine burst into tears. “What the hell?”

Debra wrapped her arms around Clementine. “I couldn’t let you spend Christmas alone.”

Clementine melted into the embrace. It was exactly where she wanted to be. What had she been thinking? She pulled back and looked at the woman who had been her best friend for over two years.

“Jesus Christ, Deb. How did I miss it?”

Debra gently pushed a locked of hair back from Clementine’s face. “Selective vision, Clem. Sometimes it takes a while to see what’s right in front of us.”

Paige stood in front of the quirky-looking cottage and wondered what the hell had come over her. What would possess a woman of her age to take off into the countryside with three witches and her mother’s physiotherapist?

“You okay, Paige?” Arley seemed to read her mind.

“No … I don’t think I am.”

“Nothing like a good shake-up of one’s world to get things in perspective,” said Arley.

Paige didn’t respond.

“Go on in, you guys,” called Calypso as she unloaded some groceries from the car. “It’s not locked.”

“She doesn’t lock her house?”

Nell appeared beside Paige. “No need. The protection spells here are so strong, nothing will enter uninvited.”

If only I’d known that before forking out for an expensive alarm system at the shop
, thought Paige.

Paige followed Nell into the house. She had a feeling she’d follow Nell anywhere. While Calypso, Taran and Arley, especially Arley, shook her foundations, Nell made her feel safe. She had a calming quality about her that Paige clung to.

“Come and I’ll show you around, Paige.”

Ash Cottage was a pretty little stone structure tucked away at the edge of a forest near Tintagel in Cornwall. The cottage was a cozy little warren with stone walls and wood floors. While the decor looked like it hadn’t changed for generations, there was no doubting that the house was a home. It had a wonderful light energy that sprang from centuries of laughter bouncing off the walls. Nell led Paige through a lounge room and dining room, a kitchen and a rather antiquated bathroom out the back. Then she took her up the higgledy-piggledy stairs to the two bedrooms.

“Are you and Arley together?” asked Nell.

Paige almost fell over. “Oh, no … nup, noooo. He’s my mother’s physiotherapist.”

“That’s a pity,” Nell said simply. “But convenient for me. Do you mind sharing this room with me?”

Paige stuck her head around the doorway of the second bedroom and into a sunny little room with two single beds covered in patchwork quilts.

“Not at all. I’m happy to share.” Secretly, Paige was relieved she’d be sticking close to Nell.

“Callie and Taran will be in the other bedroom, and Arley can have the lounge.”

Paige put her bag on the bed near the window. She was tempted to crawl under the quilt then and there. She’d had a restless night’s sleep, tossing and turning and regretting her plans to leave London with the others the following morning. She’d spent the entire night trying to come up with a good enough reason to cancel.

“I’m not well. I think I’ve got food poisoning.” And then she remembered that Nell had given her dinner, so she tossed and turned some more.

“I can’t leave the shop.” But that wasn’t true. Sadie was thrilled to be there.

“I don’t believe in fairies and think you’re all as mad as my mother, and it frightens me.” That was the truth, but Paige hated being rude or confrontational.

She turned to Nell, who was watching her from the door. “I’m not feeling myself.”

Nell smiled kindly. “If you’re half Fey but have only just found out, then you’ve spent your entire life not feeling yourself, Paige.”

Paige put her hand on the windowsill to steady herself. “I don’t believe fairies. I don’t believe in ghosts. I don’t believe in a big guy in the sky called God.”

“Well, I know for a fact that two out of those three exist.” Nell held out her hand. “And perhaps I’m just not seeing that God. Come on. Let’s go downstairs.”

*

Paige returned to a kitchen filled with laughter. Groceries were spread across the table, and Calypso was giving orders to both Taran and Arley.

“Put that in the fridge, Arley. And Taran, grab me a bottle of something to go with lunch.”

Calypso looked up as Paige entered, and then added to Taran, “Take Paige down to the cellar with you.”

Paige followed Taran down to the cellar, wondering what was so interesting that she needed to see it, and hoped it didn’t involve chains.

Instead she entered an insulated room filled with bottles of homemade wine, herbs and magical brews.

“This is Calypso’s brewery,” said Taran with pride. “That corner is the mead … over there she’s brewing beer. Those racks of wine … all hers. Elderberry, plum, apple and so on.”

“It’s impressive,” Paige said. “What do the wines taste like?”

“The first night I was here, I expected to be poisoned,” Taran laughed. “I remember teasing her about the first bottle tasting like camel’s urine. But it was the best drop I’d had in ages.”

He grabbed a couple of bottles and they headed back upstairs.

“I was just about to make some sandwiches. You hungry?” said Calypso.

Paige wasn’t, but she didn’t want a repeat performance of last night, so nodded.

Calypso’s face beamed. She was clearly happy here. “Let’s go digging for food.”

She took off out the back door and the others followed. The back garden was an overgrown Eden of flowers, herb beds, veggie gardens and strange pots. There was a tilting wood paling fence on the boundary, with a gate that led directly into the forest behind.

“There’s no path,” said Paige.

“You’re just not seeing it,” Calypso said as she picked a tomato and some lettuce.

Arley gave a whoop. You’ve got goldthread here.”

“There’s silphion over there too.”

“Oh, yeah, I see it.”

Paige joined them to see what all the excitement was about. Arley pointed at a patch of dirt under a lemon tree.

“That, Paige, is something you won’t see every day.”

Paige stared at the dirt. “I don’t see it now.”

Arley looked at her and then back at the garden. “That little thistle-type vine with the yellow leaves?”

“Can’t see it.”

“Right there. Look closely.”

“I can’t see it, okay?” Paige snapped.

Nell appeared beside her. “She’ll see it when she’s ready.”

“Ready for what?” Paige asked. “I have no idea what you’re all talking about.”

“I grow a lot of magical herbs here,” Calypso explained. “I work by the threefold herbal law. If I find a plant that’s endangered, I take some for my potions, and then replant the rest in three different spots. Because of their magical properties, not everyone can see them.”

Paige looked around at the others in disbelief. “You can all see something there that I can’t?”

Four heads nodded.

“I’m not sure if there’s something wrong with me or with you.” Paige looked at them with a mixture of defiance and fear. “Calypso, Nell, you’ve shared your background with me. As have you, Taran. You’re all … witches.” She stumbled slightly over the final word, but then gathered herself again and turned to Arley. “What’s your excuse?”

“You mean, why can I see those plants?”

“Yes. Are you a witch too?”

“No.” Arley chuckled, as though it was the most absurd thing he’d heard in ages. “I’m not a witch.”

Paige’s shoulders relaxed a little. Of course he wasn’t.

Arley smiled at her. “I’m like you. I’m half Fey.”

*

There was another knock on the door, but Paige ignored it. She had no intention of opening it until she’d worked out how she was going to make her escape. No car, no idea where she was going. Even her shoes weren’t appropriate for long walks.

She heard whispered voices outside the door. Arley and Nell, by the sounds of it. And then they went silent and the door swung open and in walked Calypso.

Paige had a feeling that nothing ever stopped Calypso, let alone a flimsy closed door.

“What are you scared of, Paige?”

Wow, straight to the point.

“I’m not sure. All I know is that I feel unnerved by this whole place.”

“And us.”

Paige nodded. “I know it’s rude, because you’ve been nothing but hospitable.”

“But that might change at any moment and we might devour you or turn you into a toad, right?”

Paige took a step back. “Will you?”

“I haven’t turned anyone into a toad since high school.” Calypso laughed. “I’m joking, Paige. Those spells are so last century.”

Now it was Paige’s turn to laugh.

Calypso sat on the bed opposite Paige. “I am a witch, just like the sixteen generations of Shakespeare women before me. I’m proud of my family history. In all those hundreds of years of history, there was only one Shakespeare woman who deserved to be feared. And that’s not because she was a witch. It’s because she was a bitch.”

“So she was a black witch and you’re a white witch?”

“No such thing. Witches are witches. Just like any other faith, some will abuse it,” Calypso said.

Paige stared at her and knew without a doubt that she was a good person. “So how are you connected to fairies?”

Calypso held her hands out open, as if laying herself bare. “As a witch, I’m closely connected to nature. That’s why I connect with nature spirits. In fact, I was initiated into the ancient healing and herbal arts in their realm when I was thirteen.”

“Bloody hell, I was still playing with dolls at thirteen.” Paige stared at her hands, neatly clasped on her lap. “What are fairies like?”

“What are humans like? All different, but with similar wants and needs.” Calypso thought about it for a moment. “Fey folk work with nature, we work against it.”

“If all this is true, what does being half-fairy make me? Or my daughter?”

“You’d be better off asking Arley that one.”

Paige turned away. She blinked back tears. It was all too confusing. Here was this man she had turned to in her hour of need, and he believed himself to be the very thing she was struggling with.

“I know many people who are part Fey. No studies have been done on it, but from what I’ve observed, the human part of you is dominant. You can have kids. Once you are moved from their world, the Fey world, you age. You will die. You can go your entire life without knowing the Fey part of yourself.” Calypso looked Paige square in the eye. “But I bet there have been signs.”

“I didn’t even like fairies when I was a kid,” Paige snapped.

“That’s probably a sign,” Calypso said cheekily. “Have you ever seen things? Or known that things were going to happen before they did?”

Paige hated where this was headed. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Knock knock.” Arley stuck his head into the room, as one would a tiger cage.

Calypso stood. “I’m going to finish making lunch.”

She left, giving Arley a conspiratorial squeeze on the arm on her way out.

“You okay, Paige?” Arley looked genuinely concerned.

“I am. Nothing like being joke of the week.”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

Paige stood, face to face with Arley, challenging him. “You didn’t find it funny, each time I came to your office, upset about my mother, talking about fairies?”

“No.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I was too busy trying not to …”

“Not to laugh?”

“Not to kiss you.”

And with that he did. Arley drew Paige in, and kissed her, like no one had ever kissed her before. Long, deep, hot and filled with longing.

Paige slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to him, responding totally and utterly. For a moment, she forgot everything.

Finally, she pulled back. She searched his eyes. “Don’t mess with me, Arley.”

“I promise I’m not, Paige.”

“This, you, fairies … it’s too much.”

“No, it’s exactly the right amount.”

Paige laughed, surrendering to it all. “Arley, you’re one of a kind.”

“No … there’s you.”

*

A few hours later, dressed in coats and boots, the group left Calypso’s cottage and walked down a small lane and out onto the road. Paige had no idea where they were going, but for once that didn’t matter. She was content just being there. It was a beautiful night. The stars were bright above them. The night air was icy but still. For a while there was no sound, apart from footsteps crunching on gravel, but eventually Taran broke the silence.

“Remember the first night you brought me down here, Cal?” Taran turned to the others to regale them with the story. “I was shit scared, and kept asking about werewolves. Calypso assured me there had been no sightings here for a while.”

“Apart from that—” Nell stopped short when Calypso shot her a look.

Taran’s face fell. “Are you saying there are werewolves here? I told you the English countryside was scary.”

“Don’t listen to him, Paige,” Calypso shot over her shoulder. “He’s a New York witch. Central Park is wild to him.”

Arley stepped closer to Paige and slipped his hand through hers. “I think they’re joking.”

“I don’t care anymore. Send down a UFO while you’re at it. Bring on the zombie apocalypse. Might as well shatter every belief I’ve ever had.”

Arley gave her a sexy smile. “Why not? It’s a good time to start again.

Paige smiled and breathed deeply. She felt refreshed here. But that probably had more to do with Arley’s kisses than the night air. How quickly things can shift. One minute she was frightened and wanting to go, and the next she was walking down to a magical grove at night with three witches and a man who thought he was half-fairy.

She needed to check the label on the wine she’d had at lunch.

They fell behind the others, happy to be in each other’s company.

“I don’t know anything about you, Arley.”

“You know more than most people.”

“You don’t go around telling people you’re half-fairy?” Paige teased.

“I’m not a fan of padded cells, so no.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I do understand how absurd it sounds.”

“Do you have kids?”

“One of each. Quinn and Ren. Twins. Fifteen now, so trouble with a capital T.”

Judging by the smile on Arley’s face, Paige doubted they were trouble at all. “Do they live with their mother?”

“They float between us. It’s amicable, we live a couple of streets apart, and the kids are fairly independent now, so come and go when they want.” He drew her in closer. “I know you have a daughter, Linda. Jean adores her.”