The Giving Season (20 page)

And after a week of it, Jessy was just about to lose her mind.

It drove her crazy to be close to him, to catch a whiff of his soap or feel the faintest accidental brush of his hand against hers. The memory of that last kiss they’d shared in the garage haunted her. Every time she saw him smile, every time she heard his voice, she was jolted with total recall of how it had felt to kiss him, how sweet his lips had tasted, how gentle his hands had been—

Crazy. She was going crazy. He’d said he’d give her time, so he’d given her time. Plenty of time. More time than she’d needed to realize that she wanted to be with Michael, that it was too late for her to be afraid of getting too close to him. Now she wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted him to make advances and do all the things that she’d always dreamed a man might do—

But he was still giving her time.

“Make me a cat pancake!” Ben said, grinning broadly.

Jessy wrinkled up her nose in a playful grimace. “A cat pancake? Eww—yuck! I’ll make blueberry or banana, but cat-flavored—?”

Ben’s chuckle made Jessy’s heart feel lighter, banishing the more frustrating thoughts of Michael to the back of her mind. Even though she had the feeling that something was building between them—something big and scary and completely unfamiliar to her—she welcomed the distraction of the kids.

“How about snowmen pancakes?” Maria asked, leaning on her elbows and half-lying over the counter. “Gramma makes them all the time.”

Jessy glanced over to Lyssa, who sat at the breakfast nook with the morning paper spread out over the table. Lyssa looked over the rim of her bifocals and smiled. “I’m a culinary genius. What can I say?”

Jessy laughed and quickly glanced around the kitchen, smile widening when she saw the basket filled with old-fashioned metal cookie cutters in the shapes of Christmas trees, Santas, reindeers, and sleighs. Perfect.

“I don’t know if I can do snowmen,” she said to Ben and Marie, “but how about some Christmas pancakes instead?”

As Ben and Marie watched, fascinated, Jessy placed the cookie cutters onto the griddle and filled them with batter. She made Santas with blueberry eyes and Christmas trees decorated with strawberry slices and bits of banana. She was just about to pour batter into the reindeer cookie cutter to make a strawberry-nosed Rudolph when Michael burst through the back door, a huge grin on his face as he quickly stomped snow from his boots and shook it from his hair.

“Mom, could you give Doc Neilson a call?” he said, yanking off his gloves. “We’re about to add to the family.”

Lyssa’s glasses slid off the end of her nose. “Lolita’s in labor?”

“As we speak.” Michael grinned over to Jessy, reading her puzzled expression instantly. “Lolita’s one of the cows. She’s about to drop a calf and I’m afraid it might be breech.”

Lyssa quickly made the phone call as Michael joined Jessy at the stove, sampling a Santa pancake. “This is actually good,” he said through a mouthful.

“You sound surprised.” Jessy said and smiled. “I happen to be an excellent cook. You don’t get to be my size without—” She caught the sudden disapproval in Michael’s eyes and let the rest of the sentence trail away. “Sorry—habit.”

“It’s a bad habit.”

“I know, I know—” Jessy batted her eyes as she cocked her head and smiled up at him. “Forgive me?”

“Well—” Michael slowly smiled. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Their smiles locked and held for a long, sweet moment. For just an instant, a heartbeat, it felt as if anything could be possible between them.

“Are you feeling better about—things?” Michael asked softly, standing so close to Jessy that she had to almost crane her head to look into his eyes. With Lyssa on the phone, Libby preoccupied with her magazine, and the twins playing with their food, it was almost as if they had the world to themselves. At least, it felt close enough for Jessy.

“Yes,” she said, taking a deep breath and inhaling deeply all of Michael’s good smells—soap, fresh hay, skin. He hadn’t yet shaved that morning, so a stubbly growth of beard darkened his cheeks and chin and throat. He hadn’t bothered to brush his hair either and it stood at all angles, styled by the wind and snow. He looked as if he had just rolled out of bed after a particularly strenuous night—and Jessy had to rein her thoughts in before they could go any further. “Much better.”

Michael slowly smiled down at her, as if he could read her thoughts. “So I’ve given you enough time and space and all that other jazz? You’ve thought about everything?”

“Mucho thought,” Jessy said, her own smile growing. He shifted a little closer to her, still smiling in a way that made her heart triphammer. 

“So what have you decided?” he murmured, brushing a stray hair from Jessy’s temple, his fingertips lingering along the line of her cheek. One look into his eyes told her that he knew exactly what kind of reaction that gesture would cause. And he wasn’t far wrong. All of a sudden she forgot how to speak English.

“I’m—I mean—I guess I’m—”

“Doctor’s on his way,” Lyssa announced, turning around just as Michael was moving in closer. “Oh—don’t let me interrupt.”

Michael grinned and tipped a quick wink to Jessy, then turned to Lyssa. And just like that, the spell was broken and Jessy regained the use of her brain. She sagged a little against the counter, pleasantly overwhelmed by whatever had just happened. 

“Guess I’d better go deliver me a calf,” Michael said, tugging on his gloves again. “Libs? Would my future veterinarian like to come watch?”

Libby looked up from her magazine. “Is it all gross and yucky?”

“You’d better believe it.”

Libby suddenly smiled. “Cool.”

“Can we go?” Marie asked, tugging at Michael’s coat. “Please, Daddy?”

“Not this time, sweetie.” Michael knelt in front of Ben and Marie, anticipating their pouts as he smiled. “I know Lolita’s your favorite, but she needs to be by herself for a while so she can have her baby and be safe.”

“Can we visit her after she has the baby?” Ben asked.

“Of course. I think she’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” Michael kissed their cheeks and gave them each a quick tickle. “But right now, I want you two to eat your breakfast so we can go Christmas shopping this afternoon. Right?”

“Right!” they chorused, smiling as they climbed back up on the barstools. Michael straightened and turned back to Jessy. For a moment they gazed at each other, connected in that moment of cozy domesticity.

And right then, she couldn’t resist a moment longer.

“Hurry back,” she finally said, stretching up on tiptoe to quickly kiss Michael’s cheek. He blinked in surprise, then frowned faintly to egg on Ben and Marie’s giggles.

“You call that a goodbye kiss?” he muttered, smiling faintly as he snagged his arm around Jessy’s waist and pulled her flush against his side, gazing melodramatically into her eyes for a moment. Jessy, caught completely off-guard, laughed.

“Michael—“

Before she could say another word, Michael dipped her deeply, as if they were doing a tango in an old movie, and slowly, thoroughly kissed her. Jessy forgot she was supposed to be self-conscious of her weight, feeling as if her entire body had dissolved into a boneless rag, supported entirely in Michael’s strong arms, aware of absolutely nothing but the feel of his lips on hers. Everything else in the world melted away.

When it ended, Jessy breathlessly gazed up at him. Michael just smiled.

“Now
that’s
a kiss,” he said, winking as he helped her stand again. Jessy had to lean against the countertop to keep her trembling knees from giving out on her. 

“Wow,” she whispered.

Michael laughed and kissed her again, the scratch of his stubble tickling her nose. “I’ll be back in a bit. Keep some pancakes warm for me, please.”

Jessy managed a weak nod. “Sure—”

With another wink, Michael left the house, followed by Libby. Jessy watched him go and then sank onto a stool, dazed and flushed and tingling from the lips down. Ben and Marie peeked at her through their hands, giggling. Lyssa just grinned as she poured a cup of coffee for Jessy and handed it to her.

“And that’s what he does in front of family,” Lyssa said and
tsked
playfully. “Remind me to have you two chaperoned at all times.”

text-indent:13.15pt;line-height:14.4pt"Jessy laughed. With the thoughts running through her mind just then, a chaperone might not be such a bad idea after all.

“Daddy! It’s Santa Claus!”
Ben gave Michael’s hand a mighty tug as he pointed towards the street corner, where a Salvation Army Santa stood ringing a handbell.

Marie, holding Jessy’s hand, frowned faintly. “How can Santa be here and at the North Pole at the same time?”

As they walked along the town square, Michael glanced over to Jessy and smiled, his eyebrows raising as if to say
How am I gonna get out of this one?

“Well—” Michael cleared his throat and shrugged uncomfortably as he looked down and met Marie’s questioning gaze. “Santa is, uh, a busy guy—”

“But how can he be here and be at the mall and be at the North Pole making toys all at the same time?” Marie asked.

“Maybe he’s been clowned,” Ben said softly, voice dropping with awe.

“Cloned,” Michael corrected, smiling. “And no, there’s only one Santa.”

Marie wasn’t satisfied. “Then how—“

“Elves,” Jessy said quickly, giving Marie’s hand a light squeeze. “Santa has a secret group of specially trained elves who go out and make all his public appearances for him.”

“Really?” Both Ben and Marie frowned.

“Jessy’s right,” Michael said, nodding. “Like I said, Santa’s a busy guy. He can’t go gallivanting all over the world to ring bells or sit in toy stores, so he has his elves go for him.”

“Oh.” Marie suddenly smiled as everything clicked. “Okay.”

Michael and Jessy looked at each other over the children’s heads and shared a relieved smile. He mouthed a silent “thank you” and Jessy grinned, shrugging. She had enjoyed every last second of their trip into the town of Scottsview—which was, to be honest, like taking a trip into a Norman Rockwell painting. Every storefront was decorated beautifully for Christmas and Hanukkah, with wreaths hanging from each street lamp and multi-colored lights criss-crossing the streets. For the first time in far too many years, Jessy actually felt excited about Christmas.

“Oooh—” Libby, walking ahead of them, had stopped in front of a jewelry store window. “Look, Dad.”

The window was decorated as a living room, complete with Christmas tree and fireplace and a life-size Santa caught in the act of leaving gifts. The tree was decorated with exquisitely crafted blown-glass ornaments, topped by a beautiful flame-haired angel. Libby’s eye had been caught by the diamond necklace dangling from Santa’s hand, but the ornaments had drawn Jessy’s attention. Michael noticed her sudden fascination and smiled.

“It’s called a Bride’s Tree,” he said, slipping an arm around Jessy’s shoulders. “There’s an old German tradition that says that a couple’s first Christmas tree should have these twelve ornaments to bring happiness and good luck to the marriage.”

Jessy glanced over to Michael, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “They’re beautiful,” she said softly.

“Each ornament symbolizes something special,” Michael continued, his fingertips lazily grazing the nape of Jessy’s neck. “If I remember correctly, the bird stands for joy, the rabbit for hope, the rose for affection, the flower basket for good wishes, the heart for true love—” 

Michael’s voice trailed away as he turned his attention to Jessy again, hesitating for a moment as he saw the wistful longing in her eyes. His sudden silence caught her off-guard. She looked away from the Bride’s Tree and saw that Michael was openly gazing at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, lips curving in a faintly sardonic smile.

“Not a thing,” he said quietly, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against her forehead, taking her into his arms. “I have to stop by the toy store and do the Santa thing. Would you mind keeping an eye on the kids for me? I’ll make it worth your while—”

Jessy smiled up at him, feeling suddenly weightless as she laughed. “Oh, I believe I could be coerced into that.”

With a devilish grin, Michael cocked an eyebrow and leaned in close, the warmth of their breath mingling in a way that was almost more intimate than a kiss. “I’ll save the coercion for later, then.”

Jessy felt her smile curling in a way that felt totally alien, yet wonderfully seductive. “Mr. Forrester,” she said softly. “The children are watching.”

“So they are,” he said and brushed his lips over hers, lingering sweetly for just a moment before pulling away. Jessy smiled again as they separated. “I’ll meet you guys for lunch in an hour.”

“Deal.”

He quickly kissed her again and then—with a wink and a grin to Libby, Marie, and Ben—headed down the snowy street. Jessy watched him go, then smiled and turned back to the kids.

“So—how about we go talk to Santa?” Jessy asked.

“You mean Santa’s elf,” Marie corrected.

“Right. Santa’s elf.”

With Libby leading the way and trying not to look like she was actually with them, Ben and Marie impatiently tugged Jessy into the department store. A blast of over-heated air struck them, but the kids were too excited to notice. They had caught sight of Santa as he sat majestically on a throne of candy canes and artificial snow. All else had ceased to matter.

Jessy, meanwhile, had caught sight of the line that stretched through three aisles. Stifling a groan, she led the kids to the end of the line and settled in for the wait.

“Do I have to stay here?” Libby asked, sighing melodramatically. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to tell Santa what you want for Christmas,” Jessy teased, managing to coax a reluctant smile from Libby.

“Can I go talk to my friends? They’re right over there—”

Jessy followed Libby’s pointing hand and saw two young girls standing at a cosmetics counter. They waved when they finally noticed Libby and gestured for her to join them. 

“Libby, honey—I don’t know. Your dad wanted me to keep an eye on you guys—”