Under The Mistletoe (John & Luke - Pt 2)

Chapter 21 (revised)

"Sharon? Mitch?" The woman's voice came from behind Bob, light and upbeat. Before he could turn to look, she swept in like a whirlwind of honey blond hair and expensive French perfume. Bob's eyes raked her over, taking in the tight white designer dress that hugged her very slim yet shapely body, accentuating every feminine curve. She absently flipped her long, shimmering hair over her shoulder and Bob noted the delicate diamond bracelet on her equally delicate wrist. The woman looked like she just stepped off the cover of Vogue. Her skin was a deep, even tan that contrasted wonderfully with her white dress and brought out her hazel eyes.

It brings out your deep blue eyes. Bob's gaze shifted to Mitch's face. Why had he said that? Why had he urged Mitch to try on the suit? Or taken every opportunity to touch him, be close to him? He glanced at Sharon and was riddled with guilt. The woman had opened her home to him—her heart. Practically taken him in as family. And he shows his gratitude by falling for her husband?

You can't help what you feel. Keep it to yourself and you have nothing to feel guilty about. It was a nice thought, but he wondered how much of it applied to him at this point. Maybe he wasn't verbally admitting his attraction, but to some degree...wasn't he acting upon it? If only subtly? Never passing up a chance to be in Mitch's presence, administering light touches that meant nothing to those standing by—yet meant everything to Bob. Tiny touches that, in his mind, evolved into deep intimate caresses that radiated meaning that would never exist in the real world.

But you want it to—thus you are guilty. Convicted and condemned by your own dishonorable heart.

Bob was shaken from his troubled thoughts as the woman practically dragged Mitch from his chair and embraced him with a vivacious affection—then kissed his cheek...with her soft, full, perfect lips...leaving behind a shadow of her pale rose lipstick. He was startled by the sudden clench of his chest and the irrational urge to pull her off him and scrub her kiss from his face.

"Brandy!" Mitch's enthusiasm effected Bob on an even deeper level as the man got his bearings and hugged her back.

"Brandy..." Sharon stared at the woman, her eyes darting anxiously over Brandy's body. "I thought you were in Paris?"

Did Sharon feel intimidated? He supposed most women might, to some degree—this woman was surely a model and perfect in every way to the visible eye. Yet Sharon had a different kind of beauty that Bob found much more appealing—a beauty that came from within and enhanced the exterior. Her beauty was tender, gentle, comforting.

"I have been," Brandy smiled. Her hand lingered on Mitch's arm and again Bob was overcome with the desire to slap it away. "But I finally got some time to come home. I haven't seen my family in ages. I'm so psyched to be spending Christmas with my parents."

Sharon smiled weakly and lowered her eyes to her drink.

Brandy's enthusiasm mellowed a fraction. "I know I've been an awful friend," she said. "I haven't kept in contact like I should have."

"I understand," Sharon murmured. "You're a busy woman."

"But that's still no excuse." Brandy squeezed Mitch's arm, content to stand right next to him. Too close for Bob's comfort. It wasn't just for himself that he wanted to tell her to take a few steps back—but for Sharon's sake as well. Perhaps it was hypocritical of him to feel defensive of her when he himself desired her husband. Hurting their perfect family, though, was not an option for him. Could the same be said for this glamorous woman who clearly had no qualms touching her "friend's" husband?