Christmas in His Bed: Talking in Your Sleep... / Unwrapped / Kiss & Tell

“Pam! How are you? You look too gorgeous to be here all alone—didn’t I see you dancing with someone?”

She nodded as he took a chair close by her side, Ted’s chair, wishing he’d taken one a few seats away. “I am here with someone. He’s getting drinks now. I didn’t see you here earlier.”

“Ah, got off to a late start tonight, waiting for my date.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Probably not. She’s a model from L.A.—we met when I was hired to do a summer house for her father. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now.” He delivered the news in a tone that subtly suggested that Pam had missed out. If he was serious about someone else, it would make it much easier to ask him to do some work on the shelter.

“Listen, Martin, I wanted to talk to you about some work we need done—”

“Here we are…. Martini for you and, oh … hello,” Ted interrupted them, and Pam looked up, glad he had returned.

“Thanks. Oh, Ted, I wanted to introduce you to—”

“Ted … Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Martin interrupted, his expression surprised as he stood and shook Ted’s hand. Pam noticed that Ted had gone a little pale and set his drink down on the table with a shaking hand.

“No, I don’t think so,” Ted responded gruffly. And then it hit her and she felt slightly panicked—of course, Martin had been working on installing new windows right at the time Ted had arrived at the shelter. It seemed unlikely that either man would remember the other, so much time had passed.

“I remember,” the contractor said, tapping his forehead now, “you helped me put in windows when I did that job at the shelter. Weren’t you … you know, uh, weren’t you staying there?”

Martin stumbled and Ted caught Pam’s eye as the two other couples returned from the dance floor—one of them being the grocer she’d convinced to keep supporting them.

The three stared at each other as the implications struck them all simultaneously. Pam hoped against hope that Martin wouldn’t make anything of it. As he turned his narrowed gaze on her, she saw the anger tighten his jaw and she knew she wasn’t going to be that lucky.

“So … I asked you out at the time and you said you didn’t want to date me because we had a conflict of interest due to my donating work to the shelter—however, it appears that you didn’t feel the same conflict of interest in getting involved with one of your charity cases? Is Ted special or do you take care of all your male residents that well?”

Pam recoiled but heard Ted growl from across the table.

“You’d best take that back and apologize, Solese,” he warned in a tone of voice she’d only ever heard him use when some of the guys at the shelter got out of line. She looked up to see him towering over Martin.

Mr. Douglas, the grocery-store owner, broke in, confused. “What’s going on here Ms. Reynolds? What are these two men fighting about?”

People around them in the country club had started milling about and observing the two men angrily staring each other down. It was too late to save face—the best she could do was to try to keep them from pounding each other.

“Ted, stop—Martin, back off—you’re out of line.”

Martin laughed, looking around at his audience. “Oh, I’m out of line? I think you’re the one who’s out of line, dating your male residents…. How many people here know? What do you think they’d think if they did?”

“That’s enough, Martin,” she cautioned in her own icy tone, reeling with anger. How dare he call her out like this? “I don’t owe any explanations to you or anyone. I can date whomever I like. It just so happened not to be you. The conflict of interest was an excuse—I wouldn’t have gone out with you anyway, so accept that fact and deal with it.”

Every person’s eyes were trained on her, including Ted, who had lowered his fists, thank God. Martin was so outraged he was beyond words.

Mr. Douglas broke the silence. “If I am not mistaken, am I to understand that you, Ms. Reynolds, have been dating this man, and he is one of your residents at Second Chance?”

“Yeah, that sums it up nicely,” Martin added nastily, and she shot him another glare before turning her attention to Mr. Douglas.

“Mr. Douglas, this is a terrible misunderstanding. Martin is only upset because I turned him down for a date, that’s all, and maybe everyone has had a few too many martinis,” she offered, trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t happening.

Douglas was old school, and she knew he already had reservations about Second Chance as it was—he’d heard some news story “exposing” homeless people as con men and layabouts who would rather live off the system than work for a living. It had taken her a while to convince him that that was not the case, at least not in her program.

“Ms. Reynolds, has your date been a resident of your shelter or not?”

“Mr. Douglas, this really is not the place for this discussion. If we could make an appointment to talk in private—”

“I’ll happily make that appointment if you can tell me he was not one of your residents.”

Pam chewed her lip, painfully aware of all the people watching them now. This was the nightmare she’d been trying to avoid. She tried dancing around the truth, knowing before the words were out of her mouth that it wasn’t going to work.

“He isn’t—in fact, he has a nice town house on—”

“But he was, wasn’t he, Pam?” Martin sneered.

“That’s enough—enough already,” Ted stepped in. “What’s wrong with you people? I lived at the shelter, yes. I got myself together at a point where I needed some help. Maybe you all have had it easy, but it’s not like that for everyone. I have a job, and a home, and a wonderful woman to share my life with. Besides that, I don’t see how this is anyone’s damned business but our own. Pam’s done nothing she needs to explain to any of you, and neither have I.”

Pam looked up at Ted, shaking her head, the questions in her mind bursting out before she could stop them.

“Why? Why would you say all that?”

Ted jerked back as if she’d slapped him. She wanted to take back the words—or maybe not. The public declaration left her no wiggle room, no place to hide. Everyone knew now, and while that might be fine and dandy for Ted, the lives of twelve other people who hadn’t quite gotten their feet under them still depended on her.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, she knew they’d be losing donor support left and right. How would she manage to keep the shelter open? What would happen to those people who lived there? This was terrible.

“I’m sorry,” Ted offered in an overly controlled tone of voice that didn’t quite mask his hurt. “I said it because it’s true. Why should they be attacking you because you didn’t want to date this guy?” He glared at Martin again. “We’re consenting adults—we don’t owe anyone explanations.”

She nodded, not knowing what else to do, unable to say a word. Mr. Douglas solved that problem again.

“Well, while that may be the case, and you certainly are free to date whomever you wish, you can forget what we talked about earlier, Ms. Reynolds. I had questions about supporting your organization as it was. Considering this new development, I know that I for one do not want to be associated with such a scandalous arrangement.”

“Mr. Douglas, you don’t understand—”

“I understand very clearly.”

With that, he turned and left. People started clearing away from their table, murmuring and whispering, leaving only Ted and Pam looking at each other hopelessly.

“What now?” Ted asked miserably.

Pam shook her head. “I don’t know, Ted. I just don’t know.”

JOY DIDN’T WORRY ABOUT her dreams that night because she didn’t fall asleep. Even though she’d assured Rafe that she didn’t want to engage in any more sensual explorations that evening, they’d shared a glass of wine, a tentative kiss good night, and he’d left.

She wanted to be relieved, but she wasn’t. All she could think about was how his erection had weighed in her palm, how thick and hard he’d been, and how his desire had touched her at depths of need she hadn’t known she had.

She could recall the nuance of every moment, how he’d kissed her, the sounds he’d made, as if he was really enjoying himself, really turned on by her—and the end result seemed to imply that was the case. Still, that wasn’t so unusual for guys, right? It was easier for them.

It was much more difficult for her to think about giving herself over that way. The incident by the door was easy—it was all about him. Though she couldn’t fault him for offering to do his part—truth was, she was scared.

She was also excited.