12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart (6 page)

S
arah locked
the clinic door for the night, stepping outside into a fine mist. Cyrus, her St. Bernard cross, followed her to Jeep. She opened the back hatch, and he jumped in, tail wagging, and more than ready to go home. Only they weren’t going home. They were going to a Christmas party at the home of Sarah’s good friends, Mandy and Brody Jenson. They owned and operated a beautiful bed and breakfast on Fiddler’s Cove, which they’d officially opened for business a few months ago.

This was their first Christmas party together at the B&B, and as much as Sarah would like to go home and cuddle up with a good book, she didn’t dare miss it. Mandy would be horribly disappointed, Janna, her office manager and good friend, would fret, and several other friends would most likely form a posse and track her down. No, not worth the hassle. She’d make an appearance and leave early.

By Saturday night, Sarah was usually too exhausted to do anything but go home. This Saturday night was no exception. Many of the part-time residents came to the island for the holidays, and she swore if they had a pet, she’d seen that pet in her clinic. Not that she was complaining about her booming business, but it did play hell with her social life—such as it was.

She drove the short distance down the winding country road that hugged the edge of the island. Sarah forced herself to stare straight ahead when she passed the driveway to Blake’s vacation home. She didn’t want to see if lights were visible through the trees. Most likely he was in Seattle doing what he could to return to the game he loved.

Janna met her and Cyrus at the door with a warm hug. “You came? I was so afraid you’d chicken out.”

“I wanted to,” Sarah admitted. Cyrus slipped past her into the house he’d been in many times before to most likely lay down in front of the blazing fire.

When something akin to guilt flashed in Janna’s eyes, she studied her closely. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Janna answered with a suspiciously innocent smile.

“Something
is
going on. What are you keeping from me?” Sarah leaned to peer past her friend into the warm, welcoming parlor but didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary. For a split second she’d feared Blake might be there. He wasn’t, and she deflated, as if she wished he were there. Of course he wasn’t. Even if he was on the island, why would he be here of all places?

Before Janna could respond, Mandy appeared, handing Sara a hot-buttered rum and guiding her into the living area where the party was already going full swing. The last time Sarah had a hot-buttered rum had been last Christmas Eve with Blake. A mixture of relief and sadness filtered through her, but she pasted a fake smile on her face and entered the joyous room. Mandy’s friends and family were gathered in large and small groups, laughing and talking. A table in the corner held an impressive spread of delectable dishes. Christmas music played in the background, and a huge tree laden with ornaments claimed one corner of the large room.

The earlier mist had given way to a starry night. Outside, several other guests crowded around a large fire pit blazing as merrily as the fireplace inside the house.

Sarah took a seat on the couch between a few of the guests, long-time island residents she knew quite well.

“Blake Daniels is on the island,” said Eva, the island psychic, as she cast a pointed glance in Sarah’s direction.

“He is?” Sarah knew her face must have gone pale. Her mouth certainly went dry, and her stomach did a great imitation of an unbalanced high-wire walker.

Mandy shot a guilty look in Sarah’s direction and a chastising one in Eva’s, but the exotic woman didn’t bat an eye.

“You didn’t invite him, did you?” Sarah glanced first at Mandy then at Janna fidgeting near the doorway. Mandy looked to Janna with a shrug. “Janna?”

Janna smiled apologetically. “I might’ve run into him at the grocery store earlier today and extended an invitation. I’m sure he won’t show. He didn’t sound interested. I just hate the idea of him being alone during the holidays.” When Janna got nervous she talked a hundred miles an hour, just as she was doing now.

“It was a mercy invitation,” she added.

Sarah smiled, trying to process Blake being on the island. “It’s okay. I don’t care if he shows up or not. We parted friends. What we had last winter was just a holiday fling,” Sarah lied, not fooling anyone. They were her friends. They’d seen the aftermath of the break up and helped her pick up the pieces and move on. Their pitying looks were enough to make Sarah run for the nearest door, but party-goers blocked all the exits. She wouldn’t be able to sneak out unnoticed. She’d bide her time and disappear as soon as the opening presented itself.

In the meantime, she sipped her drink and faked interest in whatever conversation buzzed around her, not that she had a clue because her mind was a million miles away—actually a lot closer. More like a few miles down the road.

With Blake.

A
wild-assed
hair had found its way up Blake’s butt and convinced him to go out on a Saturday night to a Christmas party hosted by people he barely knew. The closer he drove to the party, the more reluctant he was, yet he kept driving rather than turning around, drawn by some invisible thread that insisted he be there tonight instead of at home licking his considerable wounds.

He knew why he was going against his better judgement. Janna had mentioned Sarah was invited. So, yeah, he wanted to see her again. He couldn’t help it, even if doing so wasn’t a good idea or fair to either of them given the career decisions they’d made.

Blake pulled down the long driveway. Cars were parked on either side of the road, so he parked behind the last one and got out. He limped to the B&B, both relieved and sad Sarah’s pickup wasn’t in the driveway or B&B parking area.

He’d arrived on the island yesterday, and already everything reminded him of Sarah. He guessed that was progress because before her everything on this island reminded him of the family he’d lost and all the good memories they’d made on this island since his childhood.

Grabbing the lasagna he’d concocted from one of his mother’s many recipes, he steeled himself for all the smells, sights, and sounds of Christmas and hobbled up the steps to the front door. He knocked, but judging by the noise inside, no one could possibly hear him. Setting the hot dish down on a bench, he pushed open the door, ready to face the revelers and attempt to have a reasonably good time.

Before he could retrieve his dish, she barreled into him. He caught glimpse of brown hair in a ponytail before the escapee ran into his chest head first. She was glancing over her shoulder as if the devil himself was on her heels.

“Hey, slow down,” he said as he steadied himself and her, glad she hadn’t knocked him down. His heart knew it was Sarah before his head did.

She stared up at him, her beautiful face registering shock. “Blake?” She blinked several times as if she didn’t trust her eyesight.

“Sarah,” he responded, keeping his voice deadpan even as his entire body welcomed her.

“Oh, no, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” She grasped his arms, her fingers curling around his biceps.

“I’m okay.” He shook his head. She hadn’t hurt him physically even though he felt inside as if she had.

“But, your leg—” Her gazed dropped to his walking cast.

“Nah, I’m fine. Where were you going in such a hurry? Is the party that much of a bust that you’re running like hell to escape?”

“I, uh, no, I,” she seemed at a loss for words.

“Good, then, let’s go inside.” He waited for her to remove her hands off his arms. She didn’t. The woman had a damn-good grip. Suddenly realizing she’d been hanging onto him, she threw her hands up in the air and backed away, as if he were armed and dangerous. Her confusion amused him. Obviously, his appearance affected her as much as hers did him. He picked up the casserole, grateful his hands didn’t shake. Cyrus sat in the doorway watching them. He wagged his tail at Blake, and with a heavy sigh retreated back inside.

As if on cue, Eva appeared out of nowhere, smiling her serene smile. “There you are, Sarah. Mandy is looking for you. Blake, so good to see you.”

Sarah escaped, and Blake followed Eva, feeling somewhat smug and self-satisfied. He’d thwarted Sarah’s escape, and he’d savor every moment in her presence, bad idea or not.

Eva cocked her head. Her slow, knowing smile didn’t irritate him as much as it usually did. As long as she was on his side—whatever his side was—he’d tolerate her weirdness.

“Put your dish on the counter,” Eva spoke in her usual mysterious voice and turned to eye him up and down. “Your destiny is here. That’s what your family would’ve wanted.”

Blake stopped in his tracks, feeling a cold chill thread its way down his spine. He couldn’t come up with a response to her proclamation. He skirted past her and into the welcome sanctuary of the crowded living room, keeping one eye warily on Eva and the other eagerly on Sarah. Currently, she was engaged in deep conversation with a group near the fireplace and glanced nervously at him every few minutes. He liked her attention on him—a lot—because his attention sure as hell focused on her.

“I’m glad you came,” Janna said, sliding up next to him and handing him a hot buttered rum. “And so is she.” With a jerk of her head, she indicated Sarah, as if he couldn’t figure that one out.

Blake nodded, at a loss for a response.

“She misses you.” Janna said as the party’s host, Brody, joined them. Janna excused herself, leaving the two men alone.

“Hey, man, tough luck about the leg. When do you think you’ll be back on the ice?” Brody had moved to the island about a year ago, coached high school football, and did remodels. He’d met Mandy’s husband in the military years ago and come to the island to settle a debt after the man had died saving his life. Not only had he settled that debt, but he’d settled on the island with Mandy.

Blake swallowed hard. “I’m retiring.” Saying the words out loud for the first time made it real.

“Is that a good thing?” Brody asked in his usual blunt manner.

“Good or bad, doesn’t matter. It’s time.”

Brody grinned. “I know that story. Hard to admit we’re mortal, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, damn hard.”

Brody glanced in Sarah’s direction and back to Blake. “You staying on the island?”

“I don’t know what I’d do here. It’s not like there’s a hockey rink or anything remotely related to skating.”

“Then do something else.”

If only it were that simple. Blake shrugged, totally at a loss as to what that something else would be.

A cheer rose from the group of men gathered around the TV.

Brody glanced in the direction of the noise. “I’m missing the game. It’s a good one.”

Blake followed Brody into the living room and hung out with the guys as they watched a college game on the TV. At least it wasn’t hockey. He didn’t think he could handle dealing with hockey and Sarah on the same night.

Yet, he had every intention of dealing with Sarah. He wasn’t sure why because they’d hashed out their relationship ad nauseam and kept arriving at the same conclusion. Wasn’t that the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again, while expecting a different outcome?

Maybe he was insane, and the loss of hockey combined with his insanity had driven him here. He’d be all kinds of fool to pretend he hadn’t come because of Sarah.

He left the guys to watch their game and wandered about the B&B, pausing to talk to guests while looking for Sarah. He found her outside, sitting with a large group huddled around a blazing fire pit. There was an empty seat next to her, and Blake took advantage of it.

“Hey,” he said simply, sipping his now-cold, hot-buttered rum and pretending their not-so-chance meeting was casual and relaxed.

Sarah scooted her chair closer to the fire as if she were cold, not merely trying to get her ass away from him. He almost smirked and scooted his chair closer to the fire, forcing them into tighter quarters. Their knees bumped, and her head shot up.

Her gaze latched onto his.

Fuck
.

Nothing had changed, staring into her eyes made time stand still, reduced all his problems to dust until the only thing that mattered was being wrapped in the warmth of her gaze. And it was warm, heated in fact, sizzling hot, just like they’d been in their brief, whirlwind romance and every time they’d hooked up since their magical Christmas Eve one year ago. Only they hadn’t just hooked up. Blake had fallen irrevocably and undeniably in love with the woman who’d saved the kitten he’d found shivering in a snow bank. She’d saved him too, given him hope, made him realize life could be worth living again despite all his losses.

For a brief while, he’d had it all—the love of a good woman, a resurrected hockey career, and great friends—until it’d come tumbling down around him like a precarious stack of children’s blocks because neither of them had been willing to find a compromise.

Regardless, she was here, and he saw the yearning in her eyes, certain his own reflected the same. He forgot the others sitting around them. Only Sarah existed and only Sarah mattered.

But did she matter enough? Would he limp away from hockey, living out the rest of his years in obscurity on this beautiful island? There could be worse fates—far, far worse—such as a life without Sarah. But what about life without hockey? He’d had skates on his feet and a stick in his hand as soon as he could walk. How did a guy turn his back on such a huge part of his life?

Sarah blinked at him and ran her fingers over his stubbled jaw. He held his breath, savoring her touch. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly, concern darkening her brown eyes.

He wanted to tell her no, he hadn’t been okay since she’d broken off their relationship, but he caught her quick look at his cast.

Oh, yeah, that
.

“I’ve had worse injuries,” he answered nonchalantly, managing to conceal the turmoil raging inside him.

She frowned, almost as if disappointed by his answer. “So you’ll be heading back to the team soon?”