The next year when the Christmas boxes came out of the attic, Christy hadn’t been able to take it, either, but she couldn’t leave. Her dad had been out of the country filming his first movie, and she was stuck surrounded by all the decorations and holiday cheer that only made her feel bleaker. She hated her mother for driving her father away. She hated her father for leaving. She hated Christmas, and she hated her life.
Eventually she came to terms with most of it, except Christmas, which she still hated.
The precious holiday picture of Madison and Piper was constructed of pure and undiluted saccharine sentiment based on lies and illusions of peace on earth, Santa and elves, and parents who lied because…because…why had her mother lied the way she had?
Christy could have handled her dad being gay. That wasn’t anyone’s fault. Wouldn’t Madison understand that? Of course, she would. She understood her parents’ divorce, that Ian had needed to move to a city for his career. There weren’t many opportunities for a city planner in Snow Creek, or anywhere within a hundred miles.
If she were honest, though, and she usually was, she knew Madison didn’t really understand why Christy had kept her and stayed in Snow Creek. Christy hadn’t lied, but she hadn’t told Madison that when Ian wanted to leave, he’d wanted to leave more than Snow Creek. He’d wanted a divorce, too. He didn’t want to be with Christy anymore. He wanted a completely different life. And Christy had discovered that she didn’t mind him leaving all that much. Madison certainly didn’t know that. Before ten minutes ago, Christy probably would never have told her, either. Now she knew that if Madison ever asked, she would tell her. Even if the truth hurt, it was better than a lie.
Christy wiped the tears running down her cheeks on her coat sleeve, and set the booster seat down so she could pick up Madison. The kitchen door opened. When she looked up, Dan halted.
Chapter Eight
When she opened her mouth, nothing came out except a choked little gasp. Dan was at her side instantly, wrapping his arms around her, cradling her head to his shoulder with one big hand.
“Christy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to be hurt again.” He rocked and settled her closer in his arms.
Instead of feeling trapped like she usually did in a man’s embrace, Christy wanted to burrow into him and sob her heart out. That wouldn’t do. She managed to lean away from him. He took that as an invitation to tip her chin up and look her in the eyes.
She’d expected pity. Maybe platonic comfort. That wasn’t what she found. Raw desire lit his dark eyes and drew his jaw taut. Christy’s blood heated instantly, and her heart started to pound.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, then rose with a question in it.
She moved closer, and he took it from there. His lips claimed hers gently. Slowly. They were soft and warm and he tasted of cinnamon and smelled like pine trees in high, snowy meadows. Her mouth melted. Opened. His tongue explored her lips. Dipped in for a quick taste. Pulled away.
What? She blinked at him. All trace of his usual good humor had disappeared under his intense regard.
“I want more.” His voice rumbled deep in his chest. “But only if you do, too.”
“Uhh….” Did she? On one level—maybe several—oh, yes, she wanted more. She wanted more right this very minute. On other levels, as ever, she needed to think.
“I know,” he said. “This isn’t the right moment. You just had an emotional shock. The girls are right here. In your mother’s house. It’s a school night. And it’s too soon. I get it. But I want you to know, if the kids weren’t ten feet away and your mother wasn't hovering in the kitchen, I might be inclined to push you into a decision.”
She couldn’t speak so she nodded once.
“I like you,” he whispered. “A lot.”
There was a demand in his words she couldn’t help respond to. That response made her tummy tickle and her knees a little weak.
“Think about what you want.” With that he pulled her in for a hard, quick kiss then released her so fast he probably saw the smoke from the fire of that kiss escape out her ears. “I’ll carry Madison out to your car, then come back and get Piper. Are you ready?”
Mutely, she nodded again, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t ready at all.
***
At four a.m., Christy finally gave up. She hadn’t slept at all and she wasn’t going to. She got up, made coffee, and went into her home office to work on her clients’ end-of-year reports. That turned out to be about as effective as sleeping. She ended up back in her living room where she switched on the gas fireplace—sans holiday décor, thank God—and sat smack in the middle of her tasteful taupe sofa, staring into the flames.
Between her mother’s revelations and Dan’s kiss, her head was so full she couldn’t sort all the thoughts pinging through it. Why hadn’t her parents simply told her the truth? She knew her mother wasn’t homophobic. She had friends of all persuasions and combinations of persuasions. She’d talked openly to Christy about sexuality when she was a girl in a matter-of-fact, nonjudgmental fashion. Why on earth had her father not told her? Why had her mother offered herself up as the villain in the breakup of their marriage, when there wasn’t any villain? Had they thought her so fragile she couldn’t handle it? That was ridiculous. She could have handled it. It infuriated her that they had lied to her for no good reason.
Then again, she hadn’t told Madison why she and Ian had divorced. Yes, Ian had wanted a different life, but Christy would have gone with him if there’d been a stronger connection between them. She had loved him, in a general love-for-all-mankind sort of way. She had appreciated his strengths and sterling qualities. But they had been too alike, too cool with each other, too controlled. Sex had been fine at first. Then it had seemed…perfunctory. Like something they should do instead of something they wanted to do.
Dan’s heated whisper commanding her to think about what she wanted echoed in her head. Had Ian ever looked at her like Dan had when he said that? She couldn’t remember, but she was pretty certain she would never forget the need and desire in Dan’s face. That made her think Ian hadn’t ever shown such depth of feeling for her.
And what did she want? She almost threw up her hands at her inability to answer that simple question, then stopped in the nick of time before her coffee splashed all over her lap and the sofa. Why did that question bother her so much?
Christy set her mug on a gold travertine coaster on the coffee table, then closed her eyes. What did she want? From Dan. With Dan. Did she want to kiss him again?
She relived the sensations of his embrace, of the solid male strength of him, the warm caress of his lips on hers. Her stomach fluttered as much at the memory as it had when it happened. One thing was clear. Her body liked that kiss. A lot. Her heart…honestly, it had thrilled when he told her he liked her. She liked him, too. In a more-than-friends way.
But she didn’t do more than friends, and she didn’t intend to until Madison was grown up and on her own. There really was a lot to think about. Body, heart—they wanted something she hadn’t had in a long time. Maybe ever, to be honest. It hadn’t been hard to stay out of relationships with men because she’d never felt anything as compelling as what she’d felt during Dan’s brief, controlled kiss.
What would it be like if he let loose? That wasn’t a question she should ask, but once she had, it was too late. Her mind filled with carnal images. Tousled hair. Bare skin. Deep kisses. More. So much more. Her blood stirred with an unfamiliar, restless disquiet, and she flicked the fire off with the remote. She didn’t need any extra heat.
After a moment or two, she shut off the wanting part of her and asserted reason once more. She didn’t have casual sex. What if that’s all she and Dan amounted to?
A voice in her heart chided her. Really? You think that’s what this is?
It might be. Wanting more carried her into dangerous territory—territory where Madison could get hurt—and she definitely did not want that.
The voic
e didn’t leave her alone. What if Dan could be the partner she’d once wanted?
That had been unrealistic fantasy. Real life was more complicated than true love that lead to happy marriages and families. Look at what had happened to her and Ian. Look at her parents. Look at what they had done to her. Did she even know anyone who had a great marriage?
Maybe the Cornelius's. That was it. In the whole town, one couple? Those weren’t good odds.
She wanted…many things. Things that were incompatible. Things that conflicted with each other. Things that could hurt her daughter. In the end, that left Christy where she’d been at the beginning, with one exception—the fire Dan had kindled left an ache she couldn’t quite dull.
***
The morning rush was underway, but the bakery team handled it with their usual skill and good humor. At 7:30 a.m., Dan was able to run upstairs to the apartment he and Piper shared. Bianca Neach, his housekeeper and nanny, arrived at 4 a.m. when he went downstairs to the bakery, and she usually got Piper up and off to school, but Dan wanted to drive her today. He hadn’t slept much the night before, but he was more manic than tired—thanks to Christy’s kisses.
His mind wouldn’t slow down. Questions ran together. New thoughts surged to the fore before the one in progress was done. How could such a short little kiss pack such a charge? Had Christy felt what he had, the elevator lift that went up and down, then up again and then spectacularly down to a part of his anatomy that threatened to go up, up, up? Well, no, she wouldn’t have felt that exactly, but the female equivalent. Had she felt that? Was it exciting because she liked him, like it was exciting for him because he liked her so much? Geez, how high school did that sound?
The point was, how serious might things become? How would Piper and Madison react if he asked Christy out? If they started dating? If…things got serious?
Because he could see that happening. For the first time since his divorce three years ago, he could see a future that might include more than just him and Piper. Unlike Christy, he didn’t have any rules about not dating. Theoretically, he was open to dating and more. But there hadn’t been anybody he’d wanted to date. He’d thought about several different women in town. Caroline Bonny was hot and nice, but a little young for him, which probably wouldn’t have mattered that much if there’d been a spark there. Plus she had that Bonny woman curse thing going, which she seemed to take pretty seriously, and he thought was just plain nuts. Then Bianca had tried fixing him up with her sister-in-law. She was a little older than him, and a lovely woman, if a little quiet for his tastes. It might have been fun to draw her out if there’d been the slightest spark to work with. There hadn't been.
There were sparks with Christy. More than sparks. Heat. Need. She was exciting. He couldn’t wait to see her again. He was going to have to buy Dr. Tapia a top-of-the-line bottle of single malt whiskey for forcing them together in the interests of the holiday show.
Having to spend time with Christy was a Christmas miracle. He’d never have been able to convince her to go out with him given her rules. Besides, he was busy, too. He got up every morning before four o’clock, and he went to bed shortly after Piper most nights. He didn’t have time to go to bars, parties, the theater, or baseball games down in the Bay Area. Besides, he’d done all those things in Manhattan, and while on occasion he hankered for a major league ball game, the other things could wait until Piper was grown up. His idea of a fun night these days was an early dinner with Piper, a round of Go Fish, and reading a couple of books together.
Christy and Madison might think that was all right, too. He could see the four of them all piled on the sofa, or snuggled up in his bed, which would become their bed, then bundling the girls off to sweet dreams. He could especially see staying up a little later than nine o’clock on a school night if he had Christy to play with after the kids had gone to sleep.
He needed to stop thinking like that. It was a little too exciting for a school drop-off.
He met Piper and Bianca coming out the door to the apartment. “What do you say I drive you to school this morning?”
“Sure,” Piper said.
He checked with Bianca, who nodded. “Off you go. I’ll start the laundry. There’s a lot of paint on some of the clothes in the hamper.”
Piper laughed. There was something in that laugh that sounded a little too pleased about the paint. Dan watched her thoughtfully as he took her backpack.
“Which I want to talk to Piper about on the way to school.” They thumped down the stairs together in their winter boots. “I have the sense you know something I don’t,” he said when they reached the garage behind the bakery. It was kind of rickety, but it kept the snow off the minivan, which did double duty as a delivery van for wedding cakes and doughnut drop offs.
“Like what?” Piper hopped into the back seat and strapped herself into the booster.
Dan dropped her backpack at her feet and leaned in close. “You tell me.”
She leaned away from him, but held his gaze. “You’re weird.”
“That I am. But I’m not stupid.” He stared her down until something shifted in her gaze. It was a tiny waver of will. A simpler, more trusting father might have missed it, but not him. He hadn’t spent fifteen years investing other people’s money without learning how to spot bull pucky when he saw it. He lowered his voice until it was hardly more than a menacing growl. “Tell me. Tell me now.”
Her mouth dropped open. Fear flashed through her blue eyes. “I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be. It lies within my powers to make your career at Snow Creek Elementary extremely uncomfortable. Would you like to be known as the girl whose dad ruined the holiday show? After she herself drove away the directors?”
“You wouldn’t,” she breathed.
“Oh, I would,” he told her. “I will quit my post. I will tell Dr. Tapia that I don’t care if he can make your life…unpleasant…for the next five years.”
“No.”
He backed off an inch and shrugged.
“No!”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll ruin everything!” Piper said in a murderous whisper.
“What will I ruin?”
Piper’s mouth opened and shut like Nemo’s when he faced Brucey the Shark at the “Fish Are Our Friends” recovery meeting.
“I promised not to tell!” she wailed.
“Okay. If you’re not going to budge, I won’t either.” He exited the back seat and shut the car door. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. By the time he’d backed out of the garage, Piper was emitting small sounds of distress. The kid was a committed actress, and thoroughly enjoying the opportunity for drama, even as she tried to stonewall him.
He glanced in the rear view mirror once they were on Main Street. She was a little too still, and her cheeks were pink. Good. He was getting to her. He started whistling “And the Pirates Say Aaarh” from the Backyardigans because Piper didn’t like it.
“It’s Christmastime,” she ground out.
“Merry Christmas!”
“That’s not a Christmas song.”
He kept whistling. When he got to the school, he didn’t get in the drop off line. He parked in a visitor space, which Piper would know meant he was going in. To make her life hell. Unless she talked. He met her eyes in the rear view mirror and was rewarded to finally see fear.
More staring, but he was winning. He shut off the car and unfastened his seat belt. Her eyes widened, but her mouth remained tightly closed. He opened his door and had one foot on the ground when he heard a small, “Wait.”
He got out, shut his door and opened hers. “Did I hear something?”
“Madison and I both want a whole family. Both parents,” she said so fast it took him a beat to process her words.
When he did, he felt a little stunned. Then he had to suppress a grin. “And….” he prompted.
“We fought so you’d have to meet each other. Our plan wo
rked better than we thought it would. I’m sorry you got stuck doing the holiday show. But I’m not sorry you and Madison’s mom are getting to know each other. I like her,” she finished defiantly. “Don’t you?”
He wasn’t answering that. “You’ve been playing matchmaker?”
“I guess.” She studied him, probably searching for clues to his reaction.
He tried not to let anything show. Like the fact that he was fairly impressed that his six-year-old daughter was capable of executing such a complicated plan. And that he was grateful she’d focused her attentions on Christy and not someone like the vice-principal. She was a smart kid. But he couldn’t condone such active scheming, especially not when it not only affected the Monroes and him, but the whole school, as well.
He imitated a hanging judge from old westerns. “We’re going to have a long talk this evening.”
“Yeah. I figured.” Piper’s shoulders slumped.
He backed out of the car and picked up her pack. “All right. I won’t quit the holiday show. Yet. Go on to class. And don’t say anything to Madison. Got it?”
“Why not?”
“Because her mom isn’t going to like this, and I need to think about how we’re going to tell her. She had a rough evening last night, and I don’t think she’s going to be pleased about this. She doesn’t like it when people lie.”
Piper made a face. “I didn’t exactly lie.”
“That’s not going to wash. You deceived us. Me and Christy and the whole school. There will be consequences. Don’t tell Madison yet or they will be worse. Promise me.”
She hesitated long enough to let him know she was trying to work out how to void any direct, promise breaking.
“No crossed fingers, toes, or capillaries allowed,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay I promise not to tell Madison the cat’s out of the bag.”
Love on Main Street: A Snow Creek Christmas Page 13