“Kind of hard to do when there’s someone constantly waking him up,” Pauline said, not unkindly.
Most of the time Dallon spent in the hospital after his accident passed in a blur in Holly’s memory, but a few snippets stuck out. Jack by her side, hour after hour, the solid presence she hadn’t realized she needed until he was there. And most of all, how her zombie-like state had worsened with lack of sleep as night after night, the door of Dallon’s hospital room had opened and closed in a constant stream of specialists without any good news. She’d come to dread the opening of that door with a fierce intensity.
“I know. It’s tough. Do your best, and I promise we’ll get you guys out of here as soon as possible.”
“I’m not trying to complain,” Pauline amended. “You’ve all been so wonderful.”
Holly gave her a gentle smile. “It’s okay. If there’s anything we can all agree to complain about, it’s the general lack of sleep one gets while in this place.”
She left the room with a final goodbye and went back to her office to change and grab her purse, each step weighing her down more and more. Dallon. The Christmas party. The Bridger Cares Foundation. All of it was too much.
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her pocket. Jack. True to form, it was only one word: Dinner?
Exhaustion wound through her veins with a viscous thickness that seemed to slow down all of her processes, and she found she didn’t even have it in her to smile anymore. Not tonight. Only the thought of driving home and crawling into bed and the oblivion of sleep kept her moving.
Holly: Rain check?
Jack: Sure. Need anything?
She needed a clock that could unwind the last two years and bring them to the last day Dallon was alive so she could tell him to stay home. She needed to pretend Danforth had never asked her to throw a Christmas party on the anniversary of her husband’s death. No one could give her the things she needed, not even Jack, who she was convinced would move heaven and earth if she asked him to. Jack had saved Dallon’s life in the river, and she knew he would never shirk the duty he felt to his best friend’s wife.
Duty she could sometimes forget existed between them, but on a night like tonight, it was impossible to forget that Jack had been in the car too.
Holly: No.
She paused, needing to add more—wanting to feel connected to him.
Tomorrow?
Jack: Yes.
Tomorrow, she’d go back to being normal Holly—the kind of person who could tackle foundation funding. Who didn’t get completely overrun by the idea of throwing a Christmas party? Who could eat a meal with her husband’s best friend and not wonder if his sense of duty had an end date, and what that would mean for her?
Yes, she’d do all of that tomorrow. Tonight, though, she was going to go home, curl up in bed, and wish away old, painful memories.
Chapter 4
Holly tossed and turned for three hours, but the welcoming oblivion of sleep never came. She finally threw her covers off of her bed and went into the kitchen. She warmed herself a mug of hot chocolate—splurging on a dollop of whipped cream even as she heard Jack teasing her for it in her head—and sat down at her laptop. The bright screen lit up the generic room. She’d moved into this apartment about eight months ago; the reminders of Dallon everywhere she’d turned in their old house were too hard to experience over and over again. He’d been the one who had wanted the huge six-bedroom house anyway, in the hopes of the kids he’d wanted to have and now never would.
Jack had helped her pack all her things and move into a two-bedroom town house in his small, quiet town about forty-five minutes outside of Denver. She loved the quiet stillness of a forest in her backyard and the walking and biking trails through the woods and charming neighborhood.
Twinkle lights glinted through the gossamer drapes of her front window, and she shook her head wryly. It was probably a good thing she’d bought this place in July, because she wouldn’t have in December if she’d seen how the whole town went Christmas crazy: wreaths with big red and gold balls hung from old-fashioned lamp posts, and white lights were strung from the benches along the road and wrapped around the handrails of each townhome staircase. Sometimes, she even swore she heard Christmas carols floating in the air.
In the six months she’d lived here, she’d fallen in love her town, even with her recent awareness of its in-your-face approach to celebrating Christmas.
She opened her editing software and pulled up the video she was going to post tomorrow. She’d already spent hours poring over it and knew any more time spent tweaking would only make it different, not better. She rewatched the video anyway, her heart twinging at the retired couple in their matching Hawaiian shirts. They’d been childhood sweethearts and now had been married forty-three years. The wife had just been diagnosed with cancer, and rather than getting treatment (which was unlikely to work for her), they’d decided to make the most of the time they had left.
After the initial interview, she’d called her cousin, who was a cameraman for the MyHeartChannel show Take A Chance, and pitched the idea of taking these two on an adventure to live out their dream parasailing off of the Atlantic coast. After a little begging and promising free cardio exams for the rest of his life, her cousin talked to the host, Chance, who loved the premise of her show and jumped right in on the idea.
Holly had recorded the couple’s reaction to Chance’s video call, and Chance had sent her edited footage of their adventure she’d added into her own video. She knew it had the potential to be her most-viewed episode, and nerves rattled around inside of her.
From the beginning, she’d donated all of her MyHeartChannel proceeds to the Bridger Cares Foundation. It wasn’t a ton of money, but it was enough to provide some extras: a new flat-screen television in the waiting area to replace the old box one, a fish tank and maintenance care each month, and character stickers for their young patients to take home with them. She loved that love provided all these extras for Dallon’s foundation.
But if she could find a way to bring in even more views—and money—maybe they wouldn’t depend so much on the Christmas dinner. After her collaboration with Chance aired, she needed to have something attention-catching to hook people to her channel.
People loved romantic comedies this time of year—just look at all the romantic movies released in December. Maybe she could grab people with an amazing holiday-themed love story. As much as she didn’t want to, she flipped over to her emails, hoping to find something to inspire a Christmas episode.
Her last few episodes focused on people who were older, and she wanted to branch out to a younger couple. She gravitated toward the older couples because they’d stood the test of time, but younger couples had heartwarming love stories as well. Maybe not epic—not yet, anyway—but still fun to hear about.
She checked the clock after going through a couple of pages of emails in her inbox. When she’d started her channel, she’d committed to read through and respond personally to every one—a more manageable task before her show had gained popularity.
Four a.m. She didn’t have to work at the hospital today, but if she didn’t sleep at some point, she was going to be trashed for her shift tomorrow.
She absently read through a few more emails. It was amazing to her how many people met their spouse through different websites and apps, and how many people had known the person they were emailing about for less than a month. She believed love could happen in a month—but she refused to let them on the show until they’d been married for at least a few years.
She yawned, long and loud, as she opened another email. This will be the last one, she told herself. And then she’d crawl into bed, hopefully tired enough now to collapse into sleep.
Dear Holly,
This is going to sound weird, and there’s no other way to say this than to blurt it out (and hope you keep reading/don’t call the police when you’re done).
Some of Holly’s tiredness fled. As far as be
ginnings went, this one was definitely unique and intriguing. She was always in for unique and intriguing.
Here it is: I think you should marry my brother.
There’s only one snag. Well, there’s a lot of snags: this probably seems strange, you don’t know each other, and for all you know, my brother is a weirdo.
Despite herself, Holly laughed. This was definitely a first for her. Oh, plenty of people had tried to set her up in the couple of years since Dallon died, but she hadn’t had a viewer try to do it yet.
But the real problem is he doesn’t believe in love. Crazy, right? I’ve tried to get him to watch your show with me to prove to him true love exists, but he’s so pragmatic about it all, I’d just about given up. Until you mentioned on the last episode that your husband died, and suddenly I knew. You’re perfect for each other. It may be obvious on the surface, but underneath his thick, stubborn skull, he has a great heart. Maybe I’ve watched too many romantic movies, but I think the right woman could show him the true meaning of love. And who is more right for that task than you?
Anyone else, Holly thought. She skimmed through the rest of the letter, which read like a résumé for this brother, but finally got a name. Donovan. A lawyer who worked sixty to seventy hours a week, graduated top of his class at Yale, and did regular community service.
Please consider it. I’ve had some success in setting people up in the past (two marriages so far!) and I know a good couple when I see one.
Call me!
Megan
Megan left her contact information at the bottom of the letter, and Holly was surprised to see she lived in west Denver, not more than an hour’s drive away.
Holly’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. No, I don’t want to be set up with your brother seemed overly harsh, but she didn’t want to give her false hope. Rather, she wanted to give Megan real hope, because in many ways, she understood the feeling of wanting to help someone you care about find love.
As she skimmed through the letter again, thoughts of Jack sprung to her mind. A successful man who worked a lot, who didn’t believe in love. Jack’s flippant words from the day before came back to her. Even if love does exist, it’s not in the cards for someone like me.
Did he really believe that?
She reread the email, an idea flickering in her mind. It was different. It was risky.
But it could be a lot of fun.
And most importantly, it might be the perfect follow-up to her Take A Chance episode. She absently reached for her phone and pulled up Jack’s name. It rang a couple of times before he answered.
“Hello?” His voice was low and rough with sleep.
Holly’s stomach unexpectedly jumped, and she glanced at the clock. It was six in the morning. On his day off. She winced. “I’m so sorry!” she whispered. “I had no idea it was so early. I’ll call you back!”
“It’s fine. I’m up.” She could hear some rustling and imagined him sitting up in bed. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. Seriously, go back to sleep. This can wait.”
More rustling Holly had to try not to picture. “Want some breakfast?”
Her stomach rumbled at the thought. It had been hours since she’d eaten. After everything in Danforth’s office, she hadn’t been hungry for dinner, and her hot chocolate had long since worn off. She sighed. She knew Jack well enough to know he wasn’t going to go back to sleep. “Sure. What time do you have Shiloh today?”
“I’m meeting Rebecca to get her at noon.”
Holly knew he looked forward to his days with Shiloh, which were a lot less frequent than he’d like. She looked at the email. “I’ve got an idea I want to bounce off of you.”
“I’ll grab some bagels and head to your house.”
Holly hung up the phone and made an outline of the episode, more excited than she’d been in a while and hoping Jack would be just as excited about her idea as she was.
Chapter 5
Jack set the bag of food on the ground near his feet to knock on Holly’s door. The town houses on this row, including Holly’s, all had matching wreaths on their various colored doors. The different, brightly colored doors of each town house had been one of the things that drew Holly to this neighborhood right off of Main Street. Hers was a dark, eggplant purple, while the neighbors on either side of her had a canary yellow and a bright sky blue.
Jack loved the five-minute drive from his house to hers. The HOA had a snow removal service, and he was pleased to see her stairs had already been taken care of.
He found himself whistling to music before he even realized it. It always took Holly extra long to open the door. Usually she was so deeply involved in editing or reading or anything she did, he had to knock more than once. So he knocked again, this time a little louder, realizing as he did the song he was whistling to.
Holly opened the door. Her hair fell in waves down her back, and her lips shone with some sort of pink gloss. Only the redness in her eyes gave any indication that she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. His eyes probably matched hers for redness. He’d tossed and turned all night before finally getting up to binge-watch a campy tween mystery MyHeartChannel series Shiloh was obsessed with—they had about a million seasons, so he never ran out of entertainment.
“Do you hear ‘Greensleeves’?” It seemed to get louder when Holly opened the door, but there was no way she’d be listening to Christmas music.
She peered over his shoulder, and her brows furrowed. “Yeah. I wouldn’t put it past this town to install a neighborhood sound system on the roof to play twenty-four-hour Christmas music.” She took the cup holder from him. “You smell nice.”
“As opposed to every other time we’re together?”
“Hospital scent is pretty overpowering.” She shrugged. They both smelled like antiseptic and hospital soap at the end of their shifts—if they were lucky. “New cologne?”
“New soap.”
“Well, I like it.”
He made a mental note to keep using it.
He followed her inside the warm town house, where a fire blazed welcomingly in the fireplace. He handed her the bag of food, then hung his knee-length black peacoat and scarf on her coat rack. “I need to get one of these,” he mused.
“But then people might think you intend for them to stay at your house long enough to take off their coats,” she teased as he followed her into the front room. She set their food down on the coffee table.
“True. Scratch the coat rack.” He sat on the love seat—it always felt significantly smaller after he sat on it—and worked his cup out of the cardboard holder, tantalizing steam rising from the tiny hole on the lid. “How’d you sleep?”
They knew each other too well at this point for her to pretend. She sat down beside him, her knee brushing against the side of his leg as she pulled her feet under her. The fire made the room glow, and snow lightly landed on the windowpane. She settled into her seat, and the coziness of the moment allowed Jack to relax for the first time in hours. “Well, I finished editing my latest video and almost caught up on my email.”
“So not at all.”
“Nope. You?
“I watched the entire first season of Camp ScaryWary.”
Holly winced. “Shiloh is going to be thrilled.”
Jack pulled the food from the bag, handing Holly hers first before pulling his out.
“Pumpkin bagel with chocolate chip cream cheese frosting,” she said, glancing up at him with a soft smile. “You remembered my favorite.”
He shifted uncomfortably at her gratitude. “You know, for a cardiologist, you eat pretty poorly.”
She gave him her challenging, narrow-eyed smile and smeared even more cream cheese on her bagel. “And it’s no wonder you’re so mean to the residents.” She pointed to his thin, sad tortilla wrap filled with scrambled egg whites and red and green peppers. “You need more sugar in your life.”
“I’ll have you know this is the Christmas special.”
>
She grabbed her cup and drank a sip of it, sighing in delight. “You always get me the best coffee—even better than when I order it myself.”
Jack felt his lips tug upward in an amused smile. “You’re too embarrassed to order it the way you like it. I tell them to do half coffee, half cream and to put in as much sugar as reasonably possible, then to add one more for good measure.”
“They never give me half cream.”
“You have to learn how to growl it just right.”
Holly laughed and ate more of her bagel. This, right here, was exactly what his morning needed. Days he could start out hanging out with Holly were always the best ones. He ate silently beside her, never one to have to fill silence with words.
Holly, on the other hand, liked words a lot, something that didn’t bother him in the least.
“So I’ve got to read you this email I got last night.”
He nodded to indicate he was listening.
She pulled her laptop onto her legs. She then read an email to him from a woman named Megan, pausing at the part where Megan explained that her brother didn’t believe in love to raise an eyebrow at Jack. Jack schooled his face to remain expressionless, especially when she read the part about Holly marrying Donovan. His stomach dropped. If she hadn’t looked so excited, he wouldn’t have wasted one moment on the worry crawling through him.
“So I’ve got the best idea.” Holly set the computer back on the coffee table and turned toward him. “I think.”
He stretched his neck from one side then the other. “Are you going to do it?”
“Marry him?” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Jack. I’m so smitten with him from this letter that I’m going to forget Dallon ever existed and marry him.”
He relaxed a little more into his seat. It did sound overly ridiculous coming from her own mouth. “So what’s your great idea, then?”
One Great Christmas Love Story (MyHeartChannel Christmas Romance) Page 3