Christmas at the Graff

by Kaylie Newell

  EJ breathed against her hair, rubbing her back in slow circles. It didn’t take long for his touch to cause friction in other places. Places that made her cheeks warm and her pulse skip.

  “I feel like I want to teach you to snowboard,” he said, kissing her temple.

  She laughed quietly. “And I feel like that’d be a bad idea.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why?”

  “I’m not very coordinated.”

  “That’s okay. I’m a good teacher.”

  “I know. You’ve already taught me a thing or two.” She looked up and grinned.

  “I think we’re a good team, Jemma Banks. And not just in the sack, either.”

  “I know we’re a good team. Just look at our Christmas tree.”

  “Yeah. I’m trying to be humble about that. But we kind of rocked the house, didn’t we?”

  She lay her cheek against his chest, letting her gaze settle on the Graff in the distance. It was so lovely, so noble. The most perfect place in the world, as far as she was concerned. It would always be the place where she and EJ came together. Where one chapter of her life ended, and another began.

  He rested a hand on her hip, and she felt his thumb move her sweater aside just enough that it found her bare skin. The feeling was mind numbing, even now.

  “You know,” he said, his voice low and sexy, “you’re not such a bad teacher yourself.”

  She pulled away again and looked up at him. “I haven’t taught you anything.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Jemma.”

  He was serious now, and her heart slowed. His lashes were long and fair, and she knew without kissing him that his lips would be sweet. But she’d never noticed the slight cleft in his chin until she’d stood so close, in just the right light. There were so many things about EJ that she had yet to explore. He was a mystery that begged to be solved, a riddle she wanted to turn over and over again, until she knew exactly what made him tick. She needed time to do that. She needed lots and lots of time.

  “You were the one who finally opened my eyes,” he continued. “About family. About my parents.”

  “Your parents?”

  “About forgiveness, really. It was never so much about them, but how they’d managed to make me feel all these years. Like I wasn’t worthy or didn’t matter.”

  “EJ...”

  His eyes were bright now, shining in a way they hadn’t before.

  “I’ve been holding on to all that poison, all this time. I’ve been letting it determine how I chose to move forward with the relationships in my life. I guess it took you coming here, fighting like a badass for a relationship with your dad, to make me see it. I think it would’ve eventually stolen things from me before I even knew how important they were.” He smiled and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Does that make sense?”

  Her heart beat like a drum inside her chest. Beat right next to his. And the rhythm was perfect, almost identical. They suited one another.

  “It makes perfect sense.”

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is this is pretty big for me. Call it a revelation, whatever you want, but it feels...significant.”

  He tightened his arms around her and she closed her eyes, savoring the moment. When she opened them again, she looked out at the Graff and wondered what springtime in Marietta was like. She imagined the air would be heavy with the perfume of wildflowers that would grow in fat clumps next to the highway that led into town. She thought the sun would be warm, but not too warm. T-shirt, jeans, and boots weather. She’d always wanted a pair of cowboy boots. She’d always wanted to live in a town like this, where people knew everybody’s names, and sent flowers when others were under the weather. But most of all, she wanted the relationships in her life to grow, to blossom, if she was very careful and nurtured them daily. She wanted that dearly.

  She looked up at EJ, thinking that when the time was right, she’d ask him to go with her to buy that first pair of boots. And also thinking she’d have to read up on snowboarding, so she wouldn’t break her neck.

  “I have to ask you something,” she said, flattening her palm against his chest.

  “Anything.”

  “Come to Christmas Eve dinner? When I was growing up, we always had tacos. I’ll make my mom’s salsa, and we’ll watch It’s a Wonderful Life. A family tradition.”

  He smiled, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. “Family traditions are something I could get used to.”

  “Then you’ll come?”

  “If you promise me one thing.”

  “Shoot.”

  “That I can host next year.”

  She thought then that they’d come full circle. Here they stood in her father’s hospital room. Again. Only now, she was flat out, hopelessly in love. The little girl in her, the one who still believed in magic and miracles and snow on Christmas Eve, wondered if she had Saint Nicholas to thank for that. Because love, in all its forms, was really all she’d ever wanted for the holidays.

  She stood on her tiptoes and smiled against his lips, feeling his stubble tickle her skin.

  “Deal,” she said.

  And kissed him long and deep.

  Epilogue

  Jemma stood in her father’s kitchen, a green apron tied around her waist, and pushed the browning beef around in the skillet. It sizzled and popped, and was making her mouth water.

  The salsa had turned out delicious, just like she’d remembered. Which was a wonder, since she hadn’t made it in years. Her mom had always said the tomatoes were the key, so she’d made sure to pick out the reddest, juiciest ones that Monroe’s Market had to offer.

  “Dinner’s almost ready!” she called.

  A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, followed by warm, capable lips kissing her neck.

  “Smells good,” EJ said.

  “I know. I’m so hungry.”

  “Me, too. But not for tacos.”

  She laughed and turned to kiss him. When she pulled away, she looked past him and into the living room where her dad was settled on the couch, hugging the heart-shaped pillow he’d gotten in the hospital.

  “He doing okay?”

  EJ scratched his beard. It had only taken a few days for it to grow into a glorious red spectacle that made her want to shag him on an hourly basis.

  “He’s doing great. Ready for the movie. Ready for tacos. A little melancholy, but I don’t know how much of that has to do with the recovery or the holidays.”

  Jemma frowned. She knew exactly what it was. He wanted both his daughters back in his life, and his heart attack had made that wish seem imminently more urgent.

  But Justine still hadn’t called. Jemma hadn’t even talked to her, and she had to assume at this point that she’d had plenty of time to weigh things, and she just wasn’t ready.

  She looked back at EJ, who had turned his attention to the salsa. He dipped a chip into it, popped it in his mouth, and groaned.

  “Goddamn, this is good.”

  She smiled, unable to hide her pleasure at seeing a hungry man eat something she’d just prepared. She’d never been much of a cook, but she might learn to love it if he kept making noises like that.

  “Hey,” he continued, leaning against the counter in front of the little picture window. It had started snowing again, and the pine tree in the yard was heavy with it. It was almost dark and the streetlights had blinked on, along with the Christmas lights lining the street.

  “Yeah?”

  “I forgot to show you something important.”

  He pulled his phone from his back pocket and swiped open the screen. After a second, he turned it around and held it in front of her face. It was a picture of a puppy. A one-eyed puppy to be exact.

  “Wink...”

  “You remember.”

  She jabbed him in the stomach. “Of course I remember. Who could forget that face?”

  “I called Shari today. I guess he’s the last one to find a home, even with the fee paid. I t
hink it’s the eye.”

  She clutched her chest. “The eye is the best part! I mean, not the best part. But the sweetest part...you know what I mean.”

  “I know. You want me to have a broken dog.”

  “EJ.”

  “Jemma.”

  “So, are you thinking of getting him?” She couldn’t keep the hopefulness from her voice.

  “Picking him up day after tomorrow.”

  “Oh my God! He’s going to be the best dog ever.”

  “Yes. He will be the best, smartest dog of all time. And he’ll go everywhere with me, and I’ll need you to help co-parent. It’s not a traditional family since we’re having our kid out of wedlock, but I’ve never been a traditional kind of dude, so...”

  Her heart swelled to twice its normal size. He had that effect. “I guess this means I’ll need to come back often then. You know. Since we have a child to raise.”

  He put his hands on her hips. “I guess so. We’re very responsible parents.”

  From behind her on the counter, her phone chimed. She almost left it alone, but EJ had turned to the salsa and chips again, and was momentarily lost to her.

  Still smiling, she reached over and picked it up. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the text.

  Hey, sis. I’m at the airport. I wanted to surprise you and Dad, but the roads are pretty bad, so I think I’m gonna need a ride. I’ll call when I get my bags. Merry Christmas—xx

  “What?” EJ asked, opening a bottle of water.

  Jemma stared at the phone, and then looked up, her mouth open. “It’s my sister. She’s here. She wanted to surprise us.”

  He watched her for a minute, and then shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”

  “My dad’s going to lose it.”

  “He might.”

  “I can’t believe it. All of us together. It’s been so long it seems surreal.”

  “The best things are worth waiting for, Jemma.”

  She reached for his hand and stepped close, tilting her head back to look up at him. “They really are.”

  His lips curved into that cocky, playful grin that always melted her panties on the spot. “You’re going to kiss me, aren’t you?”

  “I’m gonna do something better.”

  “I don’t know that there’s anything better, princess.”

  “There is. It’s a Christmas wish come true.” She tugged on his hand. “We’re going to tell my dad. Together.”

  The End

  Holiday at the Graff Series

  Book 1: Halloween at the Graff by Sincliar Jayne

  Book 2: Christmas at the Graff by Kaylie Newell

  Book 3: New Years at the Graff by Marin Thomas

  Book 4: Valentine’s at the Graff by Sinclair Jayne

  Book 5: Love at the Graff by Jeannie Watt

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  About the Author

  For Kaylie Newell, storytelling is in the blood. Growing up the daughter of two gifted writers, she knew eventually she’d want to follow in their footsteps. While she’s written short stories her whole life, it wasn’t until after her kids were born that she decided to shoot for the moon and write her first romance novel. She hasn’t looked back since!

  Kaylie lives in Southern Oregon with her husband, two little girls, two indifferent cats and a mutt named Pedro.

  Visit Kaylie at KaylieNewell.com

  For the latest news from Tule Publishing, sign up for our newsletter here or check out our website at TulePublishing.com