Stranded With a Hero (16 page)

Aaron’s hands fell to his sides. For the first time, he looked truly bereft. A hot stone lodged in her chest.

“Well, whenever you’re ready…” He shoved his hands into his pockets, the muscles in his throat working.

It’s not supposed to be like this. It’s not supposed to hurt this much, this soon
.

Her throat constricted, too tight for speech. She nodded, and then, as the front door rattled, she turned and hurried away, her last impression of Aaron a stark figure gazing steadfastly after her.

Chapter Seven

Mecklenburg greeted Aaron with greeting-card perfection. A pristine layer of snow graced steeple-roofed churches and bare winter trees. Windows glowed, fairy lights twinkled, and children threw snowballs. A life-size reindeer family made of LED lights graced his parents’ front yard. On their white-painted front door hung an enormous green-and-red wreath. Aaron rapped on the door, stamping his feet against the biting cold. He heard the sound of hurrying footsteps, and then the door flew open, and his mother flung her arms around him.

“Oh, honey! I can’t believe it. Frank, Frank! Our boy is home.”

Yep, he was home, all right. His parents greeted him as if he’d returned from a mission to Mars. Tut-tutting over his lack of winter coat and boots, they ushered him into the living room, where they sat him by the fire and plied him with food, drink, and chatter. Aaron allowed them to fuss over him as he took in his childhood home with new appreciation. Everything was as it should be at this time of year—Douglas fir bursting with decorations, including his old salt dough initials, intricately iced gingerbread house on the sideboard, lights winking at the windows, eggnog and cookies on the table.

His chest tightened. For so long, the idea of Christmas had suffocated him. The zeal of his family had wearied him, made him cynical. Perhaps deep down he’d even felt a little excluded because he couldn’t match their enthusiasm. But now he saw what he’d been blind to all these years—it wasn’t about gifts or Santa or food or decorations. That was just the way his family expressed their feelings, their happiness in being together. And he hadn’t realized it. Until this year.

He pressed his lips together as his appreciation at being home swelled inside him.

His mother appeared to misinterpret his expression. “What’s the matter, dear? Is it the music? I know you wince whenever I put on my holiday songs.” She moved toward the iPod, which was cranking out Bing Crosby’s ubiquitous “White Christmas.”

“No, Mom. Don’t turn it off.” He smiled at her. “I like your music.”

“Well!” She blinked at him. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

He turned to his dad, gesturing at the Christmas tree. “Great tree, Dad. Did Ellie and Madison go with you to get it?”

“Uh, yes, they did.” His dad gave him a surprised smile. “They love coming with their old gramps.”

“I chopped down a Christmas tree myself in Australia.”

His dad stared. “By yourself?”

“Sure.” Aaron laughed. “I remembered everything you taught me, Dad.” He glanced at his mother, who was also looking gob-smacked. “So how was Christmas, Mom? Did you make your usual roast turkey with stuffing? Did Donna bring her famous apple pie? What did you get for Ellie and Madison?”

For a moment his mom appeared too bewildered to answer. “Well,” she said eventually. “We did have the usual turkey and apple pie, and the girls got Lego sets.”

“Sounds like you had a great time. I’m sorry I missed it.”

“You are? Oh, and we missed you so much, too. It just wasn’t the same without you.” The corners of her mouth pulled down, but then her expression brightened, and she leaned forward to press his sleeve. “But we can have Christmas again just for you tonight. Donna and Bill and the girls are coming over anyway. I’ve got a rib roast in the oven. I’ll whip out the decorations and set up the table and we’ll all wear our holiday sweaters.” She paused, her enthusiasm faltering as she glanced at him uncertainly. “If that’s okay with you? I mean, you must be exhausted after your long flight and driving up here, and I know you’re not a big fan of the whole Christmas-with-the-folks thing.”

He patted her hand. “Mom, I would love the whole Christmas-with-the-folks thing. Come on, I’ll help you.”

So Aaron found himself celebrating Christmas for the second time in five days. He wore the holiday sweater with the dancing elves, ate more food than he wanted, and discussed the Giants’ prospects with his brother-in-law. After he’d helped his dad clear the table, he handed out the gifts he’d bought for everyone and had the satisfaction of seeing his nieces’ eyes light up when they unwrapped the toy kangaroos and koalas. After the huge dinner, he stretched his legs out in front of the fire, pleasantly relaxed, his brain a little blurry as jet lag began to creep up on him.

Then his mother came into the living room with a plate of pumpkin marshmallows. “As soon as I heard you were coming home, I made a special batch just for you. I know how you like my pumpkin marshmallows.”

Aaron sat up, his peacefulness ebbing away. The golden squares were perfectly colored, scented with sugar, spices, and cocoa. He took one and bit into it, and his mouth was flooded with delicate texture and earthy flavor. And memories. Memories of Naomi—her sparkling brown eyes, her glimmering smile, her ineffable sweetness. His throat closed up. He lowered the pumpkin marshmallow, too choked to eat.

“What’s wrong?” his mother asked. “Don’t they taste right?”

He tried to swallow down his memories, but they remained jammed in his chest. “They’re perfect, Mom,” he managed to get out. His mom’s pumpkin marshmallows were just the way he’d always liked them. They were perfect. Mecklenburg was perfect. His Christmas day was perfect. Except for one critical, missing ingredient.

His mother studied him with worried eyes. He’d seen that look before many times. The first day of school. The time he’d fallen out a tree and broken his leg. The morning after his high school sweetheart had dumped him. The day he’d left for college. And every time he returned to New York, she wore the same concerned expression. She knew him so well. She would like Naomi, too, he knew. If they ever met.

He forced a smile to his face even though it hurt his cheeks. “Your pumpkin marshmallows are so great,” he said, “I’m going to take a picture of them. Come on, you and Dad have to be in the photo, too.” He pulled out his cell phone and snapped a few pictures before polishing off half the pumpkin marshmallows.

Later that night, when he was getting ready for bed in his old bedroom, he examined the photos he’d taken, and his chest became clogged again. Man, he never thought he was the sensitive, new-age type, but he sure was acting like one now. Swiping a hand over his face, he wearily pulled himself together. He gazed at a photo of himself flanked by his mom and dad, all of them in their garish holiday sweaters. He even had on the reindeer antlers his nieces had given him, and he was holding up the plate of pumpkin marshmallows.

Naomi would laugh at this photo. He could almost hear her chuckling right now. Before he could change his mind, he brought up her name from his contact list and quickly sent her the photo.

Then he lay in bed and wondered when he would see her again.

…

Naomi had left her phone behind on purpose because she didn’t want to spend all day at the store waiting for a call that might or might not come. Aaron hadn’t said he would call when he reached the States. He hadn’t asked her to call, either. He hadn’t said anything the day he’d left. Just hugged her tightly like he’d hugged Luke, Tyler, and Chloe. And then he was gone, the slick black Porsche gliding away from the house too quickly.

He’d only been gone two days, yet his absence was a yawning emptiness eating at her from within. As she went about her daily routine, she couldn’t stop thinking what he might be doing. Couldn’t stop checking her watch and mentally calculating what the time was in New York.

So when the store reopened, she didn’t take her phone to work, figuring it would be better for her. But instead her concentration was shot to pieces, so much so that in the end she left work early and cycled back to Luke’s house as if the devil were on her tail. When she burst into her room, puffing from her exertions, and saw an unread text message on her phone, her breathing seized, and her fingers became stiff and clumsy.

The photo of Aaron and his parents decked out in their Christmas finery brought a smile to her face. Then her lips trembled, and a wave of weakness sideswiped her, causing her to collapse onto the bed.

It was so stupid—crying over a man she’d only known a week or so. So stupid, and yet so real.

“Are you okay?” Luke appeared in the doorway. He crossed over to sit next to her on the bed and put his arm around her. He didn’t say anything, just waited until the storm had passed and she sat up and wiped her eyes.

“I’ll get over it.” Sniffing, she pushed her hair away from her forehead.

Luke lifted the mobile phone from her hands and examined the photo of Aaron. He looked at her, solemn. “There’s a flight for New York leaving tomorrow morning. I can drive you to Sydney.”

She gaped at him. “What?” she stuttered. “I-I can’t simply up sticks and go to New York.”

“Why not?”

Her head spun. “Because…because of the store, and my new job next year. I want to find a place of my own soon and—and besides, I don’t want to move overseas again.”

“Who said anything about moving overseas? You could just go for a visit.”

Her heart jumped like a startled deer. A visit to New York. A chance to be with Aaron again. See if what had sparked between them here survived in a different city, different climate, different hemisphere. What if it didn’t? What if she was a mere holiday flirtation? What if, transplanted to the Big Apple, she wasn’t what he’d hoped for? Her stomach contorted at the possibility.

“I thought you didn’t like the idea of me and Aaron.”

“Initially I didn’t. I was afraid you’d get hurt again.” Luke scratched his jaw. “But on Christmas Day, the way you two couldn’t keep your eyes off each other—it reminded me of when Tyler and I first met. And now seeing you so miserable, it reminds me of when I’d given up hope of ever being with Tyler.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “Going after the person you love can be terrifying, but it can also be the best thing you ever do.”

“I can’t.” Acid burned in her stomach. She thrust her phone under the pillow and turned away from Luke. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

Luke sat silent for a few moments. She thought he would say something, but eventually he patted her back and left her room. Alone, she rubbed her temples where a headache had begun to form. Luke’s words reverberated through her jarring head. She slid the phone out and stared at Aaron’s photo again.

The thought of going to New York was terrifying, but maybe Luke was right. Maybe it would be the best thing she ever did.

She’d never know if she never tried.

…

Gridlocked traffic honked on the street as Aaron made his way toward his apartment. The snow that had fallen a few days ago was now dirty, brown slush in the gutters. Groups of people passed him, some dressed to kill, others going casual, all chatting and laughing. New Year’s Eve in New York, anticipation buzzed on the streets, and everyone was heading out to celebrate. Everyone except him.

Not that he lacked invitations. Friends from work were meeting up for dinner and then hitting a club. Another friend was throwing a party at her penthouse and had begged him to come. He’d told her he’d drop by later, which wasn’t a complete lie. He might not be in the mood for festive company right now, but who knew what might happen later that night?

He’d stayed back at the office, while almost everyone else had clocked out early, to clear a few last-minute items. He’d made a New Year’s resolution to spend less time at work, and with the agreement of his boss, he was thinning out his workload and delegating projects to his subordinates. Not that he was throwing his career away. His job was still very important to him. But, as clichéd as it sounded, there were other things in life beyond work.

Like returning to a dark and empty apartment?

He shivered and adjusted his scarf. As he did so, his shirtsleeve protruded from his coat, and he caught a glint of silver at his wrist. The kangaroo cufflinks Naomi had bought him for Christmas. He’d worn them every day since returning to work, an act that brought him equal parts pleasure and pain.

A slim brunette passed him on the sidewalk, and something about her walk reminded him of Naomi. He gazed after her but saw she was nothing like Naomi, and though he knew rationally that he wasn’t likely to stumble across Naomi here in New York, he felt deeply disappointed.

Not far from his apartment block, he spotted another dark-haired, young woman. She was peering into a store window, her back to him, hopping from one foot to the other as if the cold were unbearable. She wore a long caramel coat, tan leather boots, and a knitted woolen cap on her head. His footsteps slowed. He stared at her intently. The woman’s thick, chestnut hair was exactly like Naomi’s. She was the right height and build, too. And the way she shivered, that was very familiar. A tingle raced down his spine. His footsteps sped up. It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. He’d be disappointed again.

The young woman swung around as he reached her, shining hair tumbling around pale cheeks. He stopped. His heart stopped, too.

It
was
her. It couldn’t be. But it was.

Her lips parted slightly. Her blue eyes widened, fixed on him. The corners of her mouth began to edge up, then froze, as if she’d spotted something in his expression, and anxiety clouded her eyes.

“Uh, surprise,” Naomi said, her voice fragile.

Aaron’s heart boomed. He strode forward and wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hug, lifting her effortlessly off her feet. She trembled in his embrace. Her cap fell off as he buried his face in her hair and sucked in her familiar, longed-for scent. He couldn’t get enough of her. His muscles shook as emotion swept over him.

“Surprise is an understatement,” he murmured into her hair. He loosened his grip just enough to allow him to feather his lips over her face. Then he found her mouth, soft and warm and quivering slightly. Suppressing his animal need to devour her, he pressed tender, lingering kisses upon her, determined not to overwhelm her.

When they finally came up for air, she was flushed and breathless. “I didn’t call ahead,” she said, uncertainty still lurking in her voice. “I needed to see how you’d react.”