Holly Lane (31 page)

Still smiling at him, she just blinked and said, “What do you mean?”

Okay, here we go—the moment of truth.

“Sue Ann, when we first got together, it was as big a surprise to me as it was to you. But now it seems like it was . . . destiny. Like fate slapping us in the face, telling us to open our eyes and pay attention to what’s right in front of us. Because I couldn’t have dreamed then how much I would care about you now, and yet at the same time, I’ve
always
cared about you, you know? You’ve always been a part of my life, and I guess that’s what’s made this change in our relationship come so fast, so naturally. And I know you’re angry with me, and I understand why. And I didn’t quite get why it was such a big deal at the time, but now I do, and—”

“Stop,” she said.

It caught him off guard, made him go silent. He just looked at her. “Huh?”

Her chest rose and fell as she expelled a heavy breath, and when she met his gaze, he could see—oh God—the pain filling her eyes. And even as she kept her tone low, her words came out with a sad, futile certainty. “Adam, what you did for Sophie this morning was wonderful. And the Santa ornament was very thoughtful. And you getting out of the subpoena helps put my mind at ease. But none of that changes how I feel.”

Adam took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. “How do you feel? Exactly?” he asked. “Because you can say what you want, but I know you care about me, too. I saw it in your eyes this morning.”

She stood before him, mouth half open, blinking, and now looking . . . well, as desperate as she did sorrowful. “You want to know how I feel?” she finally said. “I feel . . . like I’m drowning.”

“Huh?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Okay—I’ve demanded honesty from you about various things, so it’s only fair I’m completely honest, too, right? So here it is. Every time you and I are . . . intimate, I open myself up to you a little more. And . . . that scares me to death. And that’s probably why I almost always pull back afterward.”

He just peered into her eyes and wished he could make her see things the way he did. “But there’s nothing to be afraid of with me. I promise.”

“Yes, there is. So much is changing so fast in my life—it’s too much, and sometimes I feel like I can’t even catch my breath. And then you come along, and you make me feel so close to you and then you . . . ” She shook her head. “I’m just not ready for this. I’ve tried, and I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

“But—”

“No buts,” she said, sounding firmer now, a little more in control. “In fact, we shouldn’t see each other anymore. At least as much as we can help it, living in the same town and having the same friends. And now that the holidays are almost over, it’ll be a lot easier.”

Damn, he hadn’t seen this coming. He knew he’d let her down. But maybe he hadn’t quite understood how deeply that one moment in time had affected her until this minute, and it was punctuated with the silent tear trailing down her cheek that she’d just reached up to wipe away. Hell.

It wasn’t easy to bare your heart to somebody, but he’d been doing it. He’d done it with her a
few
times now. Yet this time, unlike any before, she’d convinced him that it didn’t matter, that there was nothing he could do to change her mind. He’d done everything he could think of—from the heart—and it clearly wasn’t enough.

“Okay,” he finally said, a small lump rising in his throat. “I get it. I’m sorry, too, Sue Ann.” Then he turned around and walked away.

God, that stung. More than stung. It was like taking an ice pick in the heart.

His chest ached and his eyes burned, so bad that he shut them for a few seconds, opening them again only because he was heading for the door and needed to see the way—he needed to get outside, be alone for a minute before anyone noticed something was up and asked him what was wrong.

A moment later, standing out in the falling snow, he peered up into it, as if asking God for some sort of answer, some sort of reason this made sense. Maybe it was karma. But in his heart he really felt that he’d paid for his past mistakes and had grown beyond them. And now that Sue Ann had come along . . . hell, he’d been foolish enough to start believing he could truly have something special with her, something solid, something that would bring back what was missing in his life.

Only when he felt a gentle movement at his hip did he remember that he had a kitten in his pocket. Crap, he’d never even gotten to that part.
Guess, for Sophie’s sake, I should have done the kitten part first.

Reaching down into his coat, he extracted the miniature cat and held him in both hands. “Let me give you some advice, dude. Don’t fall in love. All it does is screw with your head, screw with your life.”

“Meow,” the gray kitten said.

“Now I almost wish that night in the cabin had never even happened, ya know?” he said to Dickens. “I wish I’d never ended up in bed with her, never started realizing I could care for her this way, never found out I could love her this way.” He’d been a happier person not knowing that than he was now, knowing and not being able to have her.

“And as for you, buddy,” he told the kitten on a sigh, “guess you’re going back to the bookstore. Sorry I got your hopes up.”

Just then, he glimpsed a couple in the distance, rounding the corner of the building hand in hand. He remained in the shadows, keeping a low profile, still not in the mood to talk to anyone. This wasn’t like before, though—he wasn’t back to being Grinchy; he just felt depleted and . . . hell, sad.

When the couple passed under the lights above the town hall’s front door—he realized it was Jeff and Veronica. Shit.

Jeff shouldn’t have brought her here. It was Christmas, after all. And he knew Sue Ann and Sophie would both be inside, trying to have a nice time—and not wanting the recent changes in their family life shoved down everyone’s throats.

And Jeff probably hadn’t even thought about that, how coming here tonight would affect anyone else—he was probably just trying to enjoy his holiday like the rest of the people here—but Adam still thought it was in damn poor taste. Seemed the divorce truly had turned his one-time best friend into a selfish jerk. Why again had he almost felt obligated to Jeff regarding the hearing?

His first urge was to step forward, block their way, question Jeff’s judgment, and perhaps suggest he and Ronni find something else to do tonight. But then—look what he’d gotten for stepping into Sue Ann’s path a few minutes ago. He’d thought he had a handle on the situation, thought he understood it and had some idea what to expect. But he’d obviously been overconfident; he’d clearly misread that hug she’d given him earlier.

And what it came right down to was: Jeff showing up here wasn’t any of his business. He and Jeff weren’t really friends anymore if they were both honest about it. And even he and Sue Ann weren’t really
anything
anymore. So maybe the best move he could make was to just stay out of it.

Twenty-two

“Do you believe in me or not?”

Charles Dickens,
A Christmas Carol

“A
re you having a nice evening, Miss Ellie?” Sue Ann shouted toward the old woman who had been Jenny’s neighbor on Blue Valley Lake for their whole lives. In her eighties, Miss Ellie was hard of hearing and sat in a chair in one corner of the room where everyone could come up and say hello.

She put a hand to her ear. “What’s that you say?”

“I said—are you having a good night?” Sue Ann yelled louder.

In response, Miss Ellie shook her head. “Oh, it’s awfully early to say goodnight, but if you’re leaving already, be careful out in the snow.”

Sue Ann just sighed—conversations with Miss Ellie usually went this way and you just had to roll with it. “Okey doke, I’ll be careful,” she said, more to herself than the old woman.

Then she felt a tug on her sweater and turned to find Sophie at her side, her face scrunched up. “What’s wrong, honey?” Sue Ann asked, almost recognizing the look even before Sophie replied.

“Daddy and Ronni are here.”

Damn it
. Jeff had told them both, just hours ago, that they would be celebrating with Veronica’s family tonight in Crestview, and Sue Ann knew that even though Sophie had begun to accept the situation, she’d also seen this as a safe zone, a place where she wouldn’t be confronted with the fact they were no longer a family and that her father had a new wife.

And she’d put up with this for the last six months, with Jeff bringing Ronni wherever he damn well felt like it. Because it was a free country, and because she didn’t feel she had much choice but to suffer through it. And personally, she no longer even cared. Maybe she remained a little embarrassed, because their presence reminded people he’d dumped her for another woman—but otherwise, she’d finally gotten past the hurt.

To Sophie, however, it still mattered. It was one thing for her to go stay at Ronni’s house with them—she’d gotten used to that. But seeing them out, together, in the same place as Sue Ann, still upset her.

And something in Sue Ann just broke. She’d already been struggling to stuff down her feelings after her confrontation with Adam—especially since she’d been working just as hard to convince
herself
they shouldn’t be together as she’d been working to convince him. But this was it—the thing that ripped off the cork that had been holding her emotions inside.

Looking around, she quickly spotted Jeff and Ronni not far from the front door. Narrowing her gaze on their oblivious, smiling faces, she said to Sophie, “You go play with the other kids, honey,” then she made a beeline for her ex-husband.

She didn’t hesitate to march right up to him, fists clenched, until they were eye-to-eye, practically nose-to-nose. He appeared a bit startled, even before she spoke.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing showing up here?” she bit off sharply. “On Christmas, Jeff? Really?”

Jeff’s eyes widened on her in bewilderment. And she sensed Ronni shrinking next to him in humiliation, but she couldn’t have cared less, keeping her gaze narrowed vehemently on her ex.

“Our plans changed. What’s the hell’s wrong with you?” he asked as if
she
were the rude one here.

“What’s wrong with me is that it’s one thing to divorce me, but it’s another to constantly parade your new girlfriend—wife, whatever—all over town, and now, even on Christmas, here, with everyone we know.”

Jeff simply looked disgusted, clearly not getting it. Then the usually quiet Ronni spoke up, saying—quite rationally, Sue Ann thought, “I knew this was a bad idea, Jeff. Let’s just go.”

But Jeff ignored her, still focusing on Sue Ann. “Look, I grew up here, too,” he argued. “Destiny is as much my home as it is yours.”

“I don’t think you know what the word ‘home’ means anymore. But that aside, the important part you’re missing—that you always miss—is that it bothers Sophie.”

Jeff then drew his gaze from hers to peer down next to her, and Sue Ann realized Sophie had followed her across the room, darn it. “Is that true, Sophie?” he asked brusquely. “Does it bother you for me and Ronni to be here?”

He sounded angry, and even if that anger was directed at Sue Ann, Sophie had no way of knowing that. She looked frightened, instantly sending Sue Ann that much more deeply into mama bear mode. “You can’t just put her on the spot like that! How can she possibly feel comfortable being honest?”

And that’s when Sophie turned and ran away.

J
enny had heard the raised voices and recognized one of them as Sue Ann’s, but she didn’t quite put two and two together until Sophie came dashing across the room, eyes welling with tears. She froze in place, not sure what to do—then watched as Mick, standing next to her, immediately bent down and scooped Sophie up into his arms, briskly carrying her as far away from the yelling as possible. Jenny followed behind, anxious to help calm Sue Ann’s little girl.

Whisking Sophie into a small office off the main room, Mick lowered her to the floor but kept his hands at her little waist as he sat down in a chair facing her. “Hey there, honey,” he said soothingly, “whatcha cryin’ about?”

Sophie sniffed and struggled to say through tears, “Daddy and Ronni are here. And now Mommy and Daddy are fighting. And Daddy’s mad at me.”

Jenny was about to swoop in and take a stab at some comforting words—but Mick beat her to the punch. “Aw now, I’m sure nobody’s mad at you. Nobody could be mad at anybody as cute as you.” He concluded by giving her a little poke in the tummy, à la the Pillsbury dough boy, and it made her smile a little through her tears.

“Grown-ups are silly sometimes,” he went on. “We can always find stuff to yell about. But you can’t let it bring you down on a day like today.”

“Why not?” she asked, sniffing again, and reaching up to wipe away a tear.

Mick leaned closer and said, “Because you got the best Christmas present ever, remember?” Sophie had told them about Santa’s surprise for her on the short ride from Holly Lane, Sue Ann whispering who was responsible for it, and it still blew Jenny away that Adam had come through with a real live reindeer. “So how can you be sad on the day when Santa brought you a reindeer? I mean, Santa never brought
me
a reindeer. What was it like?”

This, of course, brightened Sophie’s eyes considerably, and she launched into telling Mick even more about the reindeer visit, how she’d talked to him and petted him and how her mother had taken lots of pictures.

Jenny watched the whole conversation in awe. Turned out that Mick hadn’t needed her help at all. God, why didn’t he know, why couldn’t he see . . . he’d make such a good dad. It was bubbling up from somewhere inside him right now, at the moment when Sophie needed it, and Jenny knew he didn’t even realize it.

But she simply drew in a deep breath, then let it back out. Like it or not, she had to accept that it just wasn’t what he wanted, that it wasn’t meant to be.

“He couldn’t stay, though,” Sophie went on about the reindeer. “He had to go back to the North Pole. But that’s all right, because at least he came to see me, and it was the coolest thing that ever happened to me. Ever!”

“I can’t wait to see those pictures,” Mick told her with a grin that, even under these circumstances, Jenny found sexy as sin.

Sophie smiled and said, “They’re on Mommy’s camera. We’ll show you later.”

Just then, Sue Ann’s mother poked her head into the room. “There you are,” she said to Sophie. Bickering could still be heard beyond the door, and Jenny knew Sophie’s grandma had probably been worried about her when she’d run off.

“I was just telling Mick about Dancer,” she said.

“Pretty exciting stuff,” Mick added, and Mrs. Kinman smiled.

“Exciting indeed.” Then she refocused on Sophie and said, “Will you go for a walk with me. To my car? I forgot a container of cookies there.”

Jenny knew Mrs. Kinman just thought it was best to get Sophie outside for a few minutes until things blew over in here, so she rushed to the big rack near the front door to find Sophie’s coat.

A moment later, she looked for Mick behind her—yet she discovered him still sitting in the office, just staring straight ahead. She couldn’t make out his expression but said, “You were great with her, Mick.”

He just shrugged, sighed. “Guess I’ve sorta gotten attached to the little munchkin or something.”

Jenny had been trying her damnedest to work through her recent problem the last week or so, trying to make peace with it. She’d refused to let it ruin their Christmas, and it hadn’t—but she knew the unresolved topic still hung over them. So maybe right now was the time to say what needed to be said, even if saying it was going to break her heart.

“Even so,” she began, “I know how you still feel about the idea of having kids, and so I wanted to tell you—I understand and I’ll make the best of it. Because you’re right—you said up front how you felt and I thought that was fine with me, and now . . . I just have to deal with it. So I won’t bother you about it anymore—the subject is closed.” And she tried to ignore the lump that had risen in her throat by the time she finished.

Mick didn’t answer for a minute—he didn’t respond at all, just kept staring off into space—and Jenny was starting to wonder what on earth was going on in his head when finally he glanced up and said, “What if I’m wrong?”

She blinked, confused. “Wrong about what?”

She watched him let out a sigh, looking wholly uncertain. “Maybe I . . . I don’t know—maybe I’m starting to . . . have a change of heart or something.”

Jenny’s jaw dropped and her face went numb. What was he saying? “About?”

“About this—kids, having a baby,” he said, suddenly sounding a little exasperated.

After which she simply stood before him speechless. What had just happened here?

Fortunately, he went on, since she couldn’t muster the will to ask him. He gave his head a short shake and said, “I don’t know—what happened with Sophie just now . . . I can’t explain it, but . . . hell, Jenny, maybe I want more of it, more of how that felt. I just kinda . . . wanted to take care of her, keep her safe or something. And at the same time, I felt . . . close to her, like there for a second, I wanted her to be
our
little girl.” Now he shook his head more vigorously. “God, I can’t believe I just said that. But . . . damn, maybe it’s been, I don’t know, bubbling up a little here and there lately and I’ve just refused to see it.”

Jenny bit her lip to hold back the smile that threatened to sneak out, then told him quietly, “Sometimes things change.” It seemed impossible—so, so impossible—but Mick was beginning to want what
she
wanted. He’d been so adamant that she truly hadn’t believed it could happen, even when Sue Ann had pointed out that it could. But now—oh Lord—he was making
her
Christmas wish come true just like Adam had made Sophie’s wish come true.

“Well, I don’t want to rush into anything here, but . . . maybe
this
is changing,” he said softly, still sounding uncertain as he got to his feet. Yet for Jenny, his words confirmed it, as sure as snow fell from the sky tonight.

Circling her arms around his neck, she said, “Mick, you have no idea how happy that makes me. Even if you’re not sure, it means the world to me that you’re just willing to consider it.” And then she gave him a kiss, small at first, but it quickly deepened into something passionate.

He kissed her back, his hands curving warmly over her hips as he leaned in closer, pressing his body to hers. “I think I do know,” he insisted against her lips.

And she guessed that was probably true. Not just because of how emotional she’d been lately, but because it suddenly felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of them, as if all the tension of the past few weeks had just been stripped away like so much holiday wrapping paper.

“You know,” she said, “I love the Destiny Christmas party, but . . . what do you say we ditch it and head home?”

Even with his eyes half shut in passion, Mick let out a knowing chuckle. “You just want to get started on this before I have a chance to change my mind.”

She laughed softly in reply, still in his intoxicating embrace, and said, “Maybe I just want to go to bed with my hot, hunky husband because I’m completely in love with him and want to give him one last Christmas gift—ever think of that?”

He gave a playful shrug and said, “Either way, doesn’t matter—I can’t resist you when you want to have your way with me. Let’s get outta here, Mrs. Brody.”

F
inally, Adam dropped the kitten—who seemed far more agreeable than the rumors about him—back in his pocket and stepped inside from the cold. The first thing he heard? Sue Ann and Jeff arguing. Damn.

No one stood anywhere near them—apparently trying to give them some privacy, or maybe just not wanting to let their squabble put a damper on the party. The singing around the piano continued, although it struck him as ironic to hear the makeshift choir harmonizing on “Silent Night” at this particular moment—since he thought they were singing louder than before in an attempt to drown out the spat.