Holiday Heat

by Janelle Denison

  “I wanna see Santa!” a child screeched. A little boy with chocolate-smeared cheeks, whose diaper-lumpy pants looked suspiciously damp, was glaring up at them, obviously annoyed that she’d monopolized the big man’s time. She was lucky the kid didn’t have a sharp, pointy, well-sucked candy cane—he looked ready to stab her in the eye.

  “I should let you get back to work,” she said, pulling away from Santa. Even though she’d spent the past minute telling herself why he was all wrong for her, she immediately found herself missing the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms around her waist.

  He hesitated for a moment, then let her go. “What time do you get off?”

  “I’m here all night tonight,” she admitted. “Why?”

  “Wanna meet me in the cafeteria after I’m finished?” Beneath the beard, she saw one corner of his mouth lift in a half-smile. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

  She couldn’t contain a laugh. “I’m on staff. The coffee’s free.”

  “So you guy me a cup. Is it better than in Yemen?”

  “Not really.”

  “Bummer.” He grinned up at her, his lips twitching beneath that ridiculous white beard. “But I guess I’ll let you buy me a cup anyway.”

  She shouldn’t. Heaven knew she shouldn’t. But even as a refusal formed on her lips…she knew she would.

  “Okay, Lieutenant Boudreau. Coffee is on me.”

  Chapter Three

  It started as just coffee. Small-talk. Light laughter. Tanner couldn’t ever remember enjoying a coffee-break more. Jessica was just so bright and witty, so easy to talk to, so damned sexy.

  Coffee turned into dinner. Cafeteria-food dinner, but dinner nonetheless.

  Then dessert. More coffee. More talking between her rounds and her check-ins with the staff. At one point they’d ended up in the lounge watching It’s A Wonderful Life with one of the residents, an old man she’d called Mr. Preston, who apparently suffered from severe insomnia.

  Even the taciturn Mr. Preston liked playing matchmaker for his beloved “Doc.” At one point, the gangly old man slipped a sprig of mistletoe in the buttonhole of Jess’s pristine white coat, wagging his fuzzy gray eyebrows at Tanner, as if urging him to go for it.

  When Tanner hadn’t immediately grabbed her and planted a Life Magazine worthy smooch on the woman, the old guy had frowned and muttered, “Youth is wasted on the young.”

  He hadn’t tried to hide his smile, and he’d certainly appreciated the mistletoe. Because hadn’t that led to some interesting thoughts. Not just about kissing her mouth, but about kissing her everywhere beneath that mistletoe.

  He had it bad for her. Was attracted to her the way he had never been attracted to another woman. Maybe it was because of unsatisfied desire from their first meeting, but he didn’t think so. He suspected he could make love to Jess every night for the rest of his life and still want her the next day.

  Love at first sight? Who knew? He wasn’t willing to label it. He just knew he wanted her, in his bed, and out of it. For as long as he could have her.

  “I can’t believe you’ve stayed here all evening,” she said as the two of them sat in her office, waiting for Christmas Eve to become Christmas Day.

  It was nearly midnight, and Tanner would need to get back to his grandparents’ place soon. They’d be in bed, but he wanted to be sure he was there on Christmas morning.

  “It’s the excellent coffee,” he said with a shrug.

  She grimaced.

  “Okay, scratch that.”

  “Well, I know it’s not the food.”

  “I dunno, that gelatin surprise stuff was pretty unforgettable.”

  “Maybe as compared to MRE’s.”

  He shuddered. Meals-ready-to-eat were one thing he would be very happy to leave behind when he left the military. There was only so much freeze-dried shit-on-a-shingle one person should have to eat in a lifetime.

  “Believe me, I’ve been getting as much home-cooking as I can stand. I think my grandmother wants to fatten me up to fit in that red suit.”

  She glanced at him, her stare sliding from his jaw, down his neck, over his T-shirt covered shoulders and chest. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, and he knew, watching her nibble that pretty lip, what she was thinking.

  The heat went up a few degrees. It had been going up from the minute she’d sat on his lip, until he’d shucked off the costume and joined her in the cafeteria earlier tonight, and every hour since. She was as physically aware of him as he was of her.

  He didn’t know what else was going to happen tonight, given how little of it was left. But he’d sooner lose his shooting hand than walk out of here without kissing her one more time.

  “Besides, who says I was sticking around just for you? I finally got to see the end of It’s A Wonderful Life. Mr. Preston was pretty shocked that I’d never seen the whole thing.”

  “So am I.”

  “I was more the Ralphie-who-wanted-the-b.b.-gun type.”

  “Can’t imagine why.”

  “That and Rudolph. He was my favorite.”

  An amused smile curled that pretty mouth. “I was more partial to Yukon Cornelius.”

  “I guess that’s why you joined Doctors Without Borders, huh? You wanted to see the world?”

  “That. Plus I was on the lookout for silver and gold.”

  Easily drawing on his childhood, Rankin and Bass memories, he added, “And ham-hocks and guitar strings.”

  They laughed together. Easy, it was just so damned easy to be with her. Totally comfortable and as natural as breathing…except, of course, there was that heaping helping of sexual tension sizzling between them. No conversations about childhood holiday cartoons was going to make that go away.

  Nothing would. Not until they acted on it.

  “Well, whether you wanted to see the end of It’s A Wonderful Life or not, thanks so much for staying and watching it with Mr. Preston for a little while.”

  “He seems like a nice old guy.”

  “He is wonderful,” she said. “Always a little sad. I’m glad you spent some time with him.”

  “Doesn’t he have any family?”

  “None that come to visit. Apparently he never married—he was badly affected by the war.”

  Tanner made an immediate assumption. “World War II?”

  “Yes. He was in your line of work. In the Navy.”

  A sailor? No wonder he and the older man had shared an instant affinity. Perhaps deep down they’d just recognized a brother.

  “Apparently he survived some awful battle, and it affected him. He was on a ship called, um, the Indianapolis.”

  Stunned, immediately understanding the ramifications—and thinking of the sad, lonely life Mr. Preston had lived after what had been one of the greatest U.S. Navy tragedies of all time, he could only swallow hard and murmur, “Wow.”

  “You’ve heard of it?”

  “Of course. Every American should have,” he replied.

  Because every person alive owed a debt to that generation. What they’d fought for, lived for, died for, had changed the world. And the men on the Indianapolis had paid an especially brutal price for their country.

  “I’ve been meaning to research it,” she admitted.

  “Seen the movie Jaws?” he asked her, knowing that would be the quickest pop culture frame of reference.

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, but not for a long time.”

  “Watch it again and you’ll understand.”

  He let himself think for a minute about the old man he’d met tonight, picturing him young and strong. God knows he’d have to have been. Not many of his shipmates had survived the days of treading shark-infested waters, waiting for a rescue after the sinking of a ship on a mission so top-secret, nobody even knew they’d been bombed.

  Tanner had seen a lot in his years with the Navy. But he’d never had to watch hundreds of his friends burning as their shop exploded, or drowning, or dying of their wounds. Or being p
icked off, one-by-one as they waited for help that never came.

  That took the kind of grit he wasn’t sure even existed anymore.

  “I will,” she promised, her stare tender, as if she realized where his thoughts had gone. “You military men have a real bond, don’t you?”

  “An unbreakable one.”

  She didn’t speak for a moment. Then, as if wanting to change the subject, to stop thinking of dark things on this night that had been only about talking and laughter and holiday cheer, she smiled brightly. “I’ll be honest, I still can’t believe you’re Miss Margie’s grandson.”

  “And I still can’t believe you’re the pretty lady-doc she always talks about.”

  They’d talked earlier in the evening about his family. About how his parents had died and his mother’s parents had raised him and his sister. He hadn’t tried to hide his feelings for them—his gratitude, his love, his loyalty. There was no game-playing between them, no holding-back-the-cards. It was as if they both knew they had a very short time and didn’t want to waste it.

  She’d been just as open when talking about her less-than-happy childhood, her wealthy, neglectful parents, who’d been so critical when she’d “wasted” so much time helping the poor in other countries when she could be pulling down big bucks back home. That had sounded so ridiculous to him—as if she’d ever value money over helping other people.

  How funny that they’d known her all her life, yet he already knew her better.

  The clock continued to tick, growing loud as silence again descended between them. As if they both knew he’d be walking out the door in a few minutes, and didn’t quite know what to say to each other now.

  In the end, they said nothing. Instead, he rose from his chair, walked over to hers, took her hand and tugged her up. Her eyes widened in curiosity, but he didn’t explain, didn’t ask permission. He simply did what he’d been wanting to do for hours. For years.

  He slid his fingers into her hair, cupped her head, tugged her to him and caught her mouth in a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

  She fell against his body, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her soft curves surrendered to his hard angles; they just fit, from neck to knee. She tasted as sweet as he’d remembered, but there was no shock, no shyness this time. They both dove into the kiss, their tongues dancing, tangling in a hot exploration that acknowledged that this was the wrong time and the wrong place, though not quite as wrong as the last time…and was still absolutely the right thing to do.

  Within moments, she was turning to lean against her desk, one of her legs twining around his. Their desire was a thick, tangible thing and for a few long, pleasurable minutes, Tanner let himself be carried away by it. By the feel of her soft curves, her spicy smell, the heat rising and swirling and filling the room.

  Finally, though, a voice in the corridor reminded him where they were. He ended the kiss—regretfully—and stepped back. Drawing in a few deep, ragged breaths, he watched her do the same, straightening her clothes, smoothing her hair.

  She shook her head hard, as if angry at herself. “That was a bad idea.”

  He merely smiled.

  “I mean it. This isn’t what I want.”

  He stared at her swollen, parted lips, then dropped his attention to her still-quivering body, the puckered nipples thrusting against her blouse, the way her legs had grown so weak she still had to lean against the desk.

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “I mean, I don’t want to want this.”

  Her serious tone began to dig through the lust-haze in his brain. “Care to explain?”

  She paused, then, to his surprise, said, “I wish you weren’t in the Navy.”

  His jaw dropped. “What?”

  “I hate that you’re going back to active duty so soon.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her wouldn’t be gone long, to share with her the news he would be sharing with his grandparents in the morning—that he’d accepted an offer to teach new recruits at the Coronado training facility. That he was coming home for good.

  Before he could say anything, she went on, her voice gaining a hint of bitterness. “I honestly don’t know how you career guys do it. Stay sane while you’re surrounded with all that. I worked in a war zone for a year and still have nightmares that wake me up screaming.”

  “Look, Jess…”

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is, this has been a wonderful night. One I’m never going to forget. But I really don’t want to go down this road with you.”

  “What road?”

  “The bloody, always-in-danger, might-never-come-back road,” she admitted with a frown. “I would rather never have this than get a tiny taste of it and then lose it forever.”

  This. Them. Him.

  He took a step back. Thoughts whirled in his brain. He wanted to tell her the truth—that he’d be back soon, in a matter of months, and that the risk would be nearly nonexistent once he was an instructor. That he’d be serving the rest of his active duty here in California and would probably be out for good within five years.

  But there were still those four months to go. Four months more of being on the front line, where, he knew from experience, life didn’t have much value. The past few months had not been kind to SEALs in Afghanistan—which was where he was going.

  So maybe it would be kinder to let it go. Let her have her way. And God willing, when he got back next spring, find her ready to pick up where they’d left off.

  “Okay,” he told her with a brief nod. “I understand. It was great seeing you again.”

  Her jaw fell open, as if she hadn’t really expected to get what she’d asked for. Tanner hesitated, waiting for her to change her mind. But she remained silent.

  Finally, with one shaky smile, he said, “Merry Christmas, Jess.” Then he turned and left her office without another word.

  But he didn’t leave the building right away. He had a stop to make first—in the lounge area. After he’d made it, exchanging a few words with the person he’d been seeking, he left the building.

  It was five after twelve when he got into his rental car. Christmas: the day he’d been looking forward to sharing with his family for such a long time. But right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to get back on duty and claw through these last four months.

  So maybe the life he’d secretly been hoping for could really begin.

  Jess stayed in her office after Tanner left, evaluating what had been one of the strangest days of her life. She couldn’t remember another one when she’d ridden such a roller coast of emotions, from shock, to near euphoria, to utter desire, to despair. All caused by presence of the same man. The man she’d just, basically, kicked out of her life.

  “You are an idiot,” she told herself, having reached that conclusion in ten minutes. Because, really, what kind of fool gave up the chance at something wonderful because she was too afraid of something bad that might come afterward?

  Jess had never been a coward, but she’d sure acted like one tonight.

  Still angry with herself about it, she went back out to prowl the corridors. As she passed the recreation room, she saw Mr. Preston, still sitting quietly in his chair, a blanket over his knees.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Fine thanks. Just gonna sit here a little longer, then I’ll head up.”

  She sat beside him, sharing the silence.

  “That friend of yours is a good sort,” he finally said. “Nice of him to stop in and say goodbye before going home to his folks.”

  “He did?”

  “Ayuh.”

  “What did he say?”

  The old man never turned his head to look at her, but the faintest of smiles touched his lips and he sat up a bit straighter in his chair. “He shook my hand and said, ‘Thank you for your service.’ Then he saluted me and left.”

  Jess felt tears prick her eyes, seeing how very much the gesture had touched this proud, quiet old man. Tanner hadn’t been happy when
he’d left here, she knew that, yet he’d taken the time to reach out a hand in friendship and brotherhood to this complete stranger.

  What a good man. What an amazingly wonderful man.

  She’d found him twice in her life. Once she’d lost him due to fate and war and bad timing. This time, she’d let him slip right through her fingers. No, not slipped. She’d thrown him away.

  That was a mistake she could rectify. It wasn’t too late. She wouldn’t let it be.

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t go after him now—she was on duty until six a.m. So she had to spend the night thinking about what she’d said, how he’d taken it, and what to do next. The hours stretched out interminably. She felt like a kid who couldn’t sleep Christmas Eve because of the nervous anticipation about the morning to come. She only hoped she hadn’t messed things up so badly that she wouldn’t have the happy Christmas morning she was hoping for.

  As soon as her shift was over, Jess went home. She had looked up Tanner’s grandparents’ home address before leaving the center, Miss Margie was a very popular volunteer and the info hadn’t been hard to track down. But Jess would never have barged in on their Christmas morning. She didn’t have anywhere else to go, considering her parents were, as usual, spending the holidays in the Caribbean, so she spent most of Christmas morning sleeping.

  By noon, she couldn’t wait any longer. Hoping she wasn’t making a big mistake, she drove to the house, went to the door and rang the bell.

  Miss Margie answered. “Why, Doctor D’Angelo, what are you doing here?”

  “Merry Christmas,” she said, trying to smile though her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “I’d like to talk to Tanner for a few minutes, and I know he’s leaving tomorrow.”

  “Come in, come in!”

  She entered the house, immediately smelling the delightful aromas of baking turkey, pine and gingery spices. Tanner must have heard her voice, because he walked out of the nearby living room, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. “Jess?”