His Last-Chance Christmas Family
Page 2
“You still are from the sound of it.”
He almost laughed at the truth in her statement. That was the problem with Brynn, or with his reaction to Brynn. He wanted to be her friend and support her but always managed to say the wrong thing. She was right. She did know him—or at least had known him—better than anyone. He hadn’t been alone with her, even for something as straightforward as a car ride, since high school.
It had been easy enough to put her in the category of “might have been” when she was married to Daniel. Nick had locked up any feelings he had for her that went beyond friendship. Up until recently, he’d believed the key to that lock had been thrown away along with so many other childhood dreams.
But now...
He shook his head. No. Daniel’s death didn’t change anything. Nick knew he wasn’t cut out for love. After hurting Brynn once, he wouldn’t take the chance of doing it again.
“I want you to be happy,” he said again. “I hope this date, and any of your other twelve-men-a-milking or pear-tree-partridge outings go well. Seriously, I do.”
“No partridges or milking men,” she said with another small laugh. “It’s lunch. Not a big deal.”
Tell that to his heart.
“If you need anything, or if Tyler needs anything...” He cleared his throat. “Just know I’m still your friend.”
Her gaze gentled. Brynn was far stronger than she looked, stronger than most people gave her credit for, including him for too long.
She’d gotten married at eighteen to a boy she barely knew after their first sexual encounter left her pregnant. Ten years later, her husband died in a car crash, but he hadn’t been alone in the truck when it careened off that cliff. His mistress had been in the passenger seat, and in a small town like Starlight, that fact was big news.
But he’d never seen Brynn cower from the gossip or do anything but hold her head high and keep moving forward. He guessed her motivation came from Tyler and her desire to be a role model for her son. Either way, he admired her quiet strength.
“That goes both ways,” she said quietly. “I know the holidays can be rough for you.”
He scoffed even as his gut tightened. “I’m fine. Busy at the station, which is how I like it. December is like any other month to me.”
She studied him for a long moment, and his inclination was to fidget like a naughty schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But he managed to keep his expression neutral.
“Will you be at the tree lighting tonight?”
“On duty,” he confirmed. Every year, the residents of Starlight kicked off the holiday season in front of town hall with the annual lighting of the town’s Christmas tree. The women’s auxiliary would serve hot cocoa and the local choir led everyone in singing carols to celebrate the countdown to Christmas.
Nick always volunteered to work the event because so many of his deputies had families to attend with. He had...well, his mom. What self-respecting late-twenties bachelor would admit that fact?
“I’ll see you there,” she said with a final smile.
“You can tell me how your date went,” he responded.
Her eyebrows shot up in response, but she nodded. “Sure, Nick. What a funny role reversal for us. Me sharing my dating adventures instead of the other way around.”
“Good luck.”
He didn’t move for almost a full minute after she disappeared into the cheery restaurant. Funny was the last word he’d use to describe the thought of listening to Brynn’s stories of dating other men.
Friendship. That was all Nick had to offer, he reminded himself. He’d been a lousy friend when they were younger and distant since her marriage. He had a chance to make up for that now. It was December, the month of increased caring and generosity, and he was going to make sure Brynn’s Christmas was a merry one.
Chapter Two
Brynn held Tyler’s small hand later that night as she scanned the crowd that had already gathered in front of town hall. She’d parked a few blocks away and owed a debt of thanks to Nick. When she’d called Jimmy at the auto shop after the most boring lunch date in the history of the world, he’d informed her Nick had already been by about her car.
According to Jimmy, the chief had insisted that towing Brynn’s car needed to be moved to the top of the shop’s priority list. They’d dispatched a truck, brought in the vehicle and installed the new alternator.
All Brynn needed to do was bring in her keys so they could make sure there were no other issues and she’d be all set.
Nick’s unexpected thoughtfulness had saved her an entire afternoon, additional time off work and the headache of dealing with the repair. She’d gotten used to handling life’s little crises on her own since Daniel’s accident, but that didn’t mean she liked it. The sense of relief and gratitude at having someone take care of a problem so she didn’t have to overwhelmed her. The fact that Nick had been the one to come to her rescue made her stomach flutter in a way she hadn’t anticipated.
Brynn had long ago given up her childhood crush on Nick Dunlap. Nothing dampened teenage ardor like a blatant rejection that led to a surprise pregnancy with the boy she’d chosen as her “rebound.” Having sex—her first time—with Daniel Hale had possibly been the most spontaneous and rash decision Brynn had ever made in her life.
Lesson learned.
Tyler squeezed her fingers, reminding her that despite the broken promises and unfulfilled dreams she’d endured as a result of those few minutes, it had all been worth it.
“I see Logan and Jake,” he told her. He pointed to two boys weaving through the crowd. “Can I go say hi?”
She let go of his hand. “Sure, sweetie, but...”
Tyler didn’t wait for her to finish. He dashed toward his friends with all the confidence of a kid who’d been attending the annual holiday event every December he could remember.
“Find me for the lighting,” she finished, then bit down on the inside of her cheek. Her son was still young but growing up every day, becoming more independent and sometimes a little sassy. The sass had ramped up a notch since his father’s death. The adjustment from being a mother to filling all the parental duties tried the patience of both Brynn and Tyler. Daniel hadn’t been the world’s best dad, but he’d loved his son. Tyler clearly felt his absence in ways that made him lash out at the one person who would tolerate the emotional roller coaster he often seemed to be riding.
They’d always attended the tree lighting as a family. Most years, Daniel would head to the bar with buddies from work after, but they’d be together as a unit for the ceremony. Tyler loved to perch on his father’s shoulders, and the happiness in her son’s eyes had made Brynn’s heart glad. It had made everything that was wrong with her marriage seem not so important.
Now she was alone. Sure, she had Tyler and told Mara and Kaitlin he was enough. He filled her heart, but she knew she needed more in her life. For Tyler’s benefit if no other reason. Brynn had been raised by a single mom and always understood the sacrifices her mother made to raise her. Her mom had wanted more for Brynn, and Brynn had disappointed her in the most fundamental way possible. She never wanted Tyler to feel like he was a burden or responsible for his mother’s happiness. Brynn had to manage that on her own.
“Are you going to join everyone or watch from back here?”
She turned to find Nick standing behind her, still in his dark police uniform, but now with the addition of a canvas jacket to ward off the cold. At six foot three, he towered over her, as he’d done since he hit puberty at the end of seventh grade and shot up seven inches before they got to high school.
Fighting against her innate physical awareness of him, Brynn shrugged. “I’m girding my loins, as the saying goes.”
He grimaced. “That always sounded painful to me.”
She laughed despite the nerves running through her. “It’s o
ur first Christmas without Daniel,” she said, suddenly sober.
“Yep.” He shifted closer. “You okay?”
The question felt different than when he’d huffed out the words at her on the side of the road. Or she felt different. Not so revved up with anger and bitterness. The start of the holiday season made her wistful, so much potential for kindness and cheer. Over the years, life had given her ample reasons to believe more in the stresses of the season—loneliness, missed opportunities, unrealistic expectations.
But December always gave her hope for something better.
This year she wasn’t sure how she felt. Okay didn’t seem to come anywhere close.
“I want to make the season special for Tyler. Even though they seemed silly at the time, we had traditions that involved his father. Putting up the tree with Daniel cursing a blue streak. The cat knocking ornaments to the floor after it was decorated, which led to more cursing. Pancakes on Christmas morning—”
“Tell me those didn’t involve cursing,” Nick said with a sigh.
“Not usually.” She smiled even as her throat grew tight with the emotion balled there. “Our life wasn’t perfect, but it’s what Tyler knew. I don’t know how to be both Mom and Dad for him. I want him to be happy. I want to be happy, but it’s been a long time since I’d describe myself that way. I’m not sure if I know how to get back there.” Her voice cracked, and she didn’t bother to hide it. She and Nick might not be close any longer, but he was still her first best friend.
The relief that washed over her at not having to pretend to be fine was a shock, but she leaned into it nonetheless, allowing herself to feel everything she’d tamped down for the past five months.
Nick ran a hand through his hair, looking ten kinds of uncomfortable at her confession. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Definitely don’t quit your day job to become a therapist,” she advised with an eye roll and an elbow nudge to his ribs.
Nick chuckled, then asked, “Did the date today make you happy?”
“Did you know tapeworms don’t have a stomach, so they absorb nutrients from the outside in?”
“Um...no.” He turned to her more fully. “Tell me that wasn’t part of your conversation over lunch.”
“Not just part,” she clarified. “Turns out Mara’s partridge in a pear tree is a scientist who researches parasites. He teaches at Gonzaga and was on his way to a conference in Seattle when he passed through Starlight last week.”
“No wonder he needed to be set up on a blind date. With those kind of skills, he’s probably in the longest dating dry spell known to man.”
“Ouch,” she whispered. “What does it say about me that I needed to be set up?”
His hazel eyes were intense on her. “Your situation is different.”
“Right.” She threw up her hands. “The poor grieving widow and single mom. Textbook pathetic.”
“No one thinks you’re pathetic.”
“They feel sorry for me,” she countered. “Which might be as bad. It’s why you found me standing back here. My circumstances make people uncomfortable.”
“Don’t say that.”
His voice skimmed over her like a cool breeze on a summer day. There was a reason she’d kept her distance from Nick. Her physical reaction to him had been a constant in her life and seemingly out of her control, as if her body came to life when he was around. She should walk away but couldn’t—wouldn’t was more like it. She’d spent most of her life shifting away from difficulties, glossing over trouble with a smile on her face. Always the good girl, always the person who could be relied on to put those around her at ease.
Where had it gotten her?
No place she’d recommend that anyone visit.
Since Daniel’s death, Brynn had begun to change. The parts of her she recognized were quickly disappearing to be replaced with pieces that felt raw and rough. It started at the funeral, where she’d sat in the first pew of the church and fought the urge to scream at the top of her lungs. To shout at her dead husband for the reckless, hurtful choices he’d made and at herself for becoming so small it felt like her entire existence could fit on the sharp tip of a thumbtack.
There had been no outburst, of course. She’d remained calm and composed for her son, who quietly cried next to her. She’d cried for him and for the hand life had dealt her. Then a few days later, when he’d gone back to school, she’d driven up to Devil’s Landing, the same stretch of road where Nick had found her today. She’d gotten out of her car, walked to the edge, where bright orange cones and caution tape marked the spot of Daniel’s accident.
There, she’d screamed and screamed until her throat burned and her voice gave out. It had been such a relief to release the sound, her wails echoing across the valley.
That moment had freed something in Brynn, and she’d spent the past five months recalibrating her internal life to try to honor the change. It felt monumental. So she wouldn’t—couldn’t—walk away from a difficult conversation or her latent feelings for Nick. Not anymore.
“I make you uncomfortable,” she told him, the words stated as fact rather than opinion.
“No.” The denial fell flat, and he blew out a long breath. “I’m your friend, Brynn. I want to be your friend again. I’m simply not sure how to do it anymore. God knows I made a mess of things the first time.”
“You did,” she agreed, and his eyes widened. “Did I shock you?”
His broad shoulders lifted, then lowered. “A little. You never used to call me out on any of the crap I pulled.”
“I’m not the same as I used to be.”
“I’m glad.”
This time it was her turn for shock. “You used to count on me being your mealymouthed sidekick.”
“If I treated you that way, I’m sorry. It’s good to know you’re taking a stand for yourself.” He lifted a hand, as if to reach for her, then lowered it again. Yes, her traitorous body screamed. Please touch me. No, her mind admonished. That’s a terrible idea. “I’ve grown up, too.”
Brynn didn’t want to notice all the ways Nick had grown up. He’d been boyishly handsome as a teen, all rangy limbs and lean muscles, but had indeed developed into more.
“I should join everyone before they start the ceremony,” she told him, needing some space from the rush of emotion this quiet moment with him had unleashed inside her.
He nodded. “I’m going to check around back.”
“Do high school students still drink in the shadows behind town hall?” she asked with a smile.
“Some things change in Starlight,” he answered. “Some things stay the same.”
She thunked the heel of her palm against her forehead. “Oh, my gosh. I almost forgot to thank you for taking care of my car. You didn’t need to do that, Nick.”
“Not a big deal. Jimmy has a habit of getting rowdy when he’s drinking. He owes me for all the rides home from the bar before he could get himself into trouble.”
Her instinct was to protest again or make a statement about how she could have handled the car on her own. She didn’t like to rely on anyone. Pretty much everyone in town knew her circumstances. The only way she was able to hold her head high was by making it seem like she could take care of anything. But this was Nick, and she didn’t have to pretend. “It was a huge help, and I appreciate it.”
The look of satisfaction that crossed his face made her breath catch in her throat.
“You’re welcome,” he told her, and with a final wave, she hurried to join the crowd in front of town hall.
Too much time with Nick wouldn’t help her to feel more in control of things.
She caught sight of Tyler at the hot cocoa stand, and he grinned as he held up a handful of marshmallows, then popped the whole bunch into his mouth.
The laugh that escaped her lips felt refreshingly normal. Normal was a
balm to her battered soul these days, and she loved seeing her son enjoying the event without the weight of memories she couldn’t seem to shake off.
“You’re here. We’ve been looking for you.”
She turned toward Kaitlin Carmody and Mara Johnson, her two closest friends in Starlight. Neither of them were natives to the small town, which Brynn guessed was part of what made her so comfortable with them. Yes, they knew her situation, but there was none of the complicated judgment from either of them that seemed to define most of her longtime friendships in the community.
They both had regrets from their own pasts, and the acceptance they gave her had immediately put her at ease. No preconceived notions of who she was supposed to be or all the ways she hadn’t lived up to her potential as she’d tried to make her marriage work and raise her son in a loving home.
Since Daniel died, they’d gotten even closer, and she couldn’t imagine life without them.
“I’m so happy you’re both here.” She hugged each of the women and made certain a smile was fixed on her face. Honesty with Nick was one thing, but she wasn’t about to let her tumbling emotions put a damper on the start of the holiday season for Kaitlin and Mara.
“Finn, Parker and Josh are saving a spot near the front so the kids will have an unobstructed view of the tree,” Kaitlin told her.
“That’s sweet,” Brynn murmured. Although she’d been closer with Nick, she’d also been friends with Finn Samuelson and Parker Johnson most of her life. Josh was Parker’s younger brother, and his daughter, Anna, had become besties with Mara’s little girl, Evie, when Mara moved to Starlight over a year ago. “Tyler is with his buddies right now, so I need to round him up.” She checked her watch. “We have a few minutes before the ceremony is scheduled to start. Why are the two of you looking at me like that?”
“The date,” Mara said, pushing a thick strand of bourbon-colored hair behind her ear. “You haven’t said anything.”
Brynn shrugged. “He’s into tapeworms.”
“That’s not a thing.” Kaitlin grimaced. “Tell me that’s not a thing.”