Christmas Steele (5 page)

She stood, taking a sip of her now-tepid
coffee. It really was good. She took a sip of Jason’s and stuck out
her tongue, nearly gagging at the cloyingly sweet taste of cream
and sugar. Why did he care how his coffee was brewed if it only
served as a conveyance for other things? She shook her head; she
would never understand him.

After clearing their mugs and rinsing them in
the sink, she returned to the living room to find Jason still
asleep.
Poor guy,
she thought, conjuring the mental image of
him working all hours so people with wives and children could have
the time off.

“You’re as sweet as you are beautiful,” she
whispered, knowing she would never be able to get away with such a
statement while he was awake. He liked to think of himself as a
tough guy, but he wasn’t.

Lacy covered him with the afghan—noting as
she did so that it was hand knit. Who had knit him an afghan? She
had a hard time picturing any of the girls he dated being that
domestic, but had no idea who else would have done such a thing. He
wasn’t close to his family. That was how it went with Jason,
though. He always invited more questions than answers.

After assuring herself that he was properly
covered, she leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips, backing
away when he stirred slightly and reached for her. Waking him
mid-kiss would be a very bad idea, indeed. With his defenses so
low, they could get into some real trouble.

She turned out all the lights, grabbed her
powdered sugar, and let herself out, securing the door behind her.
Then she picked up the pace and jogged home, vowing to bypass the
prune cake when she arrived.

Chapter 6

When Lacy arrived home, the television and
prune cake were calling her name, but she passed them both,
sticking to the strict bedtime she had invoked for herself. By
eleven, she was asleep, and she woke by eight the next morning,
feeling good about getting into a routine again.

She ate a quiet breakfast with her parents
and grandmother. She hoped the stillness was a positive sign, but
she had the feeling it was a bad omen, as if her mother were saving
all her displeasure for when Mr. Middleton arrived.

There was a knock on the door and Lacy
answered it, thinking it might be Tosh. He often stopped by if he
was out visiting some of his parishioners. It wasn’t Tosh, though.
It was Jason, and he looked angry. He was also wearing his
uniform.

“Are you working a double today?” Lacy asked,
stepping out onto the porch. He didn’t usually work so early in the
morning.

“Yes,” he said, his tone clipped.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it was the fact that
I woke up in a panic with no idea where you were until I realized
you walked home in the pitch black at night.”

“Technically, I jogged. And there was a
bright moon.”

“Lacy,” he said, scowling. “What were you
thinking?”

“That I didn’t want to wake you. You looked
exhausted.”

“You could have taken my car,” he said.

“You told me stealing a cop’s car is a
felony,” she said.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“It’s too early in the morning to deal with you. Just don’t do it
again. You scared me.” He softened, smiling. “And you didn’t kiss
me goodbye.”

“Sure I did. In fact, it was one of our
better kisses. I think you should be asleep for more of them.”

He reached out, grabbing the waistband of her
pants, though he didn’t use it to tug her closer. Instead he walked
to her, closing the gap between them. “You kissed me while I was
asleep?” His knuckles skimmed her bare skin.

“Yes,” she said.

“I don’t remember. I demand a rematch.”

She shook her head, tucking her hands behind
her back so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch him. “I can’t kiss you
when I’m this close to my mother. I’m convinced she has some sort
of tracking device on me because she tends to pop into view
whenever I have my lips on a man.”

“How many men have had your lips on them?” he
asked.

“Not telling,” she said.

He tried a different track. “What’s so bad
about me seeing your mom? She already knows me. And you’ve told her
about me, haven’t you?”

She pressed her lips together, shaking her
head again.

“No?” he asked, sounding dismayed.

“If you met her, you’d understand. I haven’t
told her about anything, not her adoption or Barbara Blake or my
inheritance.”

“Did you tell her about him?” he asked. Him
being Tosh, she presumed.

She shook her head. “Grandma did,
though.”

He relaxed at that, his smile returning as
his knuckles grazed her navel.

“Did you tell your mom about me?” she asked,
more as a way of fighting her inevitable reaction to his touch than
because she thought he actually might have.

“No, but I haven’t talked to my mom in about
a year.”

She frowned. “Jason, what are you doing for
Christmas?”

“Working,” he said.

Breaking her no-touch rule, she lifted her
hands and pressed her palms to his cheeks. The thought of him alone
and working on Christmas made her unbearably sad. “Come to our
holiday party,” she invited. “It’s on Christmas Eve.”

He turned his head, skimming her palm with
his lips. “I’m working Christmas Eve,” he said.

“Jason, I’m worried about you. You’re working
too much.”

“I’m fine, and I’ll try to stop by for a
while on Christmas Eve. If it’s not busy then I can take my supper
break here.” He paused. “Are you inviting him?”

“Yes, but I don’t know if he’ll be here or
not. He might be flying back to Chicago to spend Christmas with his
family.”

“I’ll put that on my Christmas wish list,”
Jason said. “Speaking of Christmas,” he let go her waistband and
touched his index finger lightly to her collarbone. “How do you
feel about jewelry?”

Was he referring to the necklace he had
already bought her? Before she could reference it, she remembered
that she wasn’t supposed to have opened it until Christmas. “I like
jewelry,” she said. “But you don’t have to buy me anything,
Jason.”

“Where’s your Christmas spirit, Red?” he
asked.

In New York with my sister and
ex-fiancé,
she thought.

“Stop,” Jason commanded.

“Stop what?” Lacy asked, surprised at his
harsh tone.

“Stop looking like a puppy that’s just been
kicked. I am so tired of seeing you mourn for that loser who
obviously didn’t deserve you anyway. Just get over it already.”

Lacy wriggled free of his embrace, which
wasn’t easy since she was pressed against the porch. She
sidestepped him and placed one hand on the door. “Gee, Jason, why
didn’t I think of that? Problem solved. I’m over it now. Thanks for
the help.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I swear your
temper is worse than some of the drug addicts I deal with. I simply
meant that I care about you, and I’m tired of seeing you in pain. I
want you to move on.”

“Don’t you think I want that? But I don’t
know how to let it go.”

“Well, figure it out, Lacy, because it’s
obvious you can’t be with anyone until you let it go.”

“What do you care?” she asked, becoming angry
all over again. “You’re Mr. Confirmed Bachelor, remember? What does
it matter to you if I’m able to be in a relationship again?”

“If you have to ask the question, then you
wouldn’t understand the answer,” he replied, smiling at her
perplexed expression. “I need to get back to work. If I ever get
fired, it’s going to be because of you and the disruption you cause
in my life.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he
pressed his finger to her lips. “Save it for next time, Red. I
really have to go. See you.” He leaned in. Lacy closed her eyes,
but he bypassed her lips and kissed her cheek in a gesture that
disconcerted her for its similarity to Tosh’s standard goodbye.

“See you,” she said dully. “And get some
rest,” she added as he jogged down the stairs. He threw a wave over
his shoulder, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge that she had
spoken.

Her parents were locked in their room when
Lacy entered the house. Were they arguing? She hoped not. Her
grandmother was in the kitchen, staring listlessly at the empty
counter.

“Grandma, is everything okay?” Lacy
asked.

“Of course, dear,” her grandmother said.

Lacy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her
grandmother’s hair could be on fire and she would still insist that
not a thing was amiss in her life.

“Pastor Underhill called while you were
outside,” Lucinda said.

“Did he say what he wanted?” Lacy asked.

“No, dear, but I told him I would give you
the message he called. I think he was hoping for a callback.”

Lacy reached for her phone and paused.
“Grandma, do you disapprove of women calling men?”

Her grandmother gave her a wry smile. “Not
when it’s you and my pastor, dear,” she said.

Lacy smiled. Her grandmother was a
matchmaker, but at least she was subtle about it. Tosh’s phone rang
so many times Lacy thought it was going to go to voicemail, but at
last he picked up.

“Hey,” he said, sounding breathless.

“Hey,” Lacy said, cheered by the sound of his
voice. Over the last few months, she and Tosh had become
inseparable, spending most of their evenings and weekends together
unless he had a church function. She had only seen him once in the
last couple of weeks, and she missed him horribly.

“I’m free tonight,” he said, bubbling with
enthusiasm. “Want to come over? I’ll cook for you.”

“By that do you mean you’ll order takeout?”
she said. Tosh couldn’t cook, a fact she had learned the hard
way.

“Must you suck the romance from every
conversation? Yes, I’m ordering takeout.”

“Then I’m in. Are cookies still banned, or
should I bring some?”

“Anything but gingerbread; I think I’m
developing an aversion. Bring what you like.”

Lacy smiled because they both knew what he
was leaving unsaid—that she would most likely be the one eating the
cookies. Tosh didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, and Lacy felt like
it was going against nature to not have dessert with supper. “What
time?”

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said.

“You know my mother is here,” she said,
cupping her hand around the phone and lowering her voice. “You’re
going to have to meet her.”

“Okay,” he said in a conspiratorial
whisper.

She smiled. Unlike her, Tosh didn’t find
meeting new people intimidating. For Lacy, it ranked up there with
running and having deep conversations about her emotions—she would
rather do almost anything else.

Since they were going to be seeing each other
that night, they didn’t stay on the phone. Almost as soon as Lacy
disconnected, her mother emerged from her room, still looking
sullen and grumpy. To make matters worse, Mr. Middleton arrived
just then, letting himself in as was his custom.

“Mother, he just walks in here?” Frannie
said, though she was looking at Mr. Middleton.

“Mom,” Lacy said. “This is Grandma’s house.
Her friends can do whatever they want.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, young lady,” her
mother replied.

“Lacy’s right.” This came from Mr. Middleton
who stepped protectively closer to Lacy.

Frannie stared at him for a second, abashed.
“You have no right to interfere in a family matter.”

“This is your mother’s house, and if she
wants me to go, then the decision should be hers,” Mr. Middleton
added.

Everyone turned to look at Lucinda. For a few
beats, she stood looking helplessly between her boyfriend and her
daughter. Then, seemingly coming to a decision, she steeled her
spine and stepped forward, taking Mr. Middleton’s hand.

“Frannie, what exactly is your objection to
Tom?” she asked.

“He’s not my father,” Frannie blurted,
sounding more like a teenager than a grown woman. Lacy held her
breath, noticing Mr. Middleton’s slight flinch. Lucinda took
another deep breath before plunging in again.

“Nonetheless, he’s your former principal and
very special to me. If you can’t treat him with polite respect,
then you’re not the same woman your father and I raised you to
be.”

“This whole situation is just so unfair,”
Frannie said, beginning to cry.

Lacy supposed she should have some sympathy
for her mother. If something happened to her father, she would have
a hard time seeing her mother with a new man. But the tears were
too reminiscent of Riley and one of the tricks she had always used
to get her way for Lacy to feel much sympathy. Cynically she
wondered if her mother expected her tears to have a softening
effect on her grandmother. What did she expect her mother to say,
“Go away, boyfriend, my grown daughter is having a tantrum?”

In the end, it was Mr. Middleton who said
that, or something similar. “Maybe I should give this situation a
little space until things calm down,” he said.

Lacy and her grandmother looked at him in
surprise while Frannie kept up her hysterics and Lacy’s father
looked helplessly around the room—probably for escape. The whole
situation was just so sad, Lacy thought. It would have been bad
enough if it was simply a daughter rebelling at the idea of a new
man in her mother’s life, but there was so much more going on.
There was a father, desperate to know his daughter, the daughter
who was now rejecting him, banishing him to spend yet another
lonely Christmas without his family.

“No!” Lacy hadn’t meant to shout the word,
but that was what she did. And then, to make matters worse, she
burst into tears, too. She had never resorted to using tears as a
weapon, reserving them for times when she was truly upset. Now must
have been one of those times, because she was helpless to stop her
crying. “Mom, you can’t send him away.” She went to stand next to
her grandfather, clasping his hand. “No one is saying you have to
have some type of immediate bond with him, but you have to give him
a chance.”