You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology

by Karina Bliss

  Chapter Seven

  Still lost in a Jimmy Stewart afterglow, Kayla arrived home at seven forty-five to a front yard full of cars and motorbikes, one of which she recognized as Moss’s. She’d switched on her cell outside the theater to see that Dimity had texted a message:

  Great news. Phone Jared at home!

  She’d figured it could wait another fifteen minutes until she saw him. Was this why he’d wanted her out of the house, to get ready for a surprise party? Because nothing said great news like trashing the house you’re about to put on the market.

  When she opened the front door, music blasted from the speakers, and not Christmas carols either. Hard rock. The living room was crowded with Rage’s tour family—roadies, techs, security, a lawyer or two—all of whom greeted her with hollers and raised glasses.

  Plastering a smile on her face, she dodged attempts to stall her and stalked through the house looking for Jared, moving a glass of red wine sitting perilously near the edge of the coffee table en route. And we have freaking white carpet! On what planet was this stupid, inconsiderate party helping me with Christmas? Bottles and cans of alcohol were piled up on every available surface and a cigarette butt smouldered in her rubber plant. I’m going to kill Mr. “I’ve got this.”

  The dining room table had been shoved against the wall to clear a dance floor, and she spotted Moss among the throng, rocking out with two women, his body moving in a sinuous seduction. She scowled when he threw her his bad boy grin. “No hookups in my house this time,” she mouthed, and he blew her a kiss, unrepentant.

  Son of a bitch. Where was her husband? On a mission now, she stormed into the kitchen, where she found pasta sauce on the stove, empty pizza boxes piling out of the trash can, two people making out in the pantry, and her best platter dumped in the sink with dirty dinosaur plates.

  The kids. Spinning on her heel, she pushed through the dancers and hurried toward the hall leading to the bedrooms. Seth was leaning against the jamb, a beer in hand.

  “All under control,” he called above the music, and showed her the baby monitor, tucked into the breast pocket of his plaid jacket. “Jared is checking on them now.” The tawny-haired drummer’s smile held the ‘trust me, girl’ warmth that had inspired numerous marriage proposals from female fans, and Kayla relaxed. Because you could trust Seth.

  If Jared was looking out for the kids maybe she wouldn’t kill him. Maybe diaper duty for a month would be punishment enough.

  “Great news,” Seth yelled over the music as he let her pass.

  Kayla nodded, smiling. Nothing can justify this.

  Her husband was closing the door to Maddie’s bedroom. When he saw her walking down the hallway he laughed and opened his arms wide. “Behold.”

  “I’m beholding,” she said grimly. Insult to injury, her husband was half drunk. “Jared, what the hell?”

  “That was my next question.” He dropped his arms. “Why isn’t your fucking cell turned on? I wanted to be the one to break the good news.”

  “Oh my God!” She suddenly got this. “Zander’s singing voice will recover.”

  Jared’s dark gaze sharpened, then he smiled the most radiant smile. “Kayla Walker, you have a Grammy-nominated song written for you.”

  It took her a few seconds to process his words. Then she gasped.

  He opened his arms again. “Only the best song of the fucking year.”

  Half-laughing, half-crying she cannoned into them. “Honey, I’m so proud of you.”

  “I still can’t believe it!”

  “This is so…!” Filled with the most incredible joy, she lost the power of speech again.

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “I know, right?”

  Unable to express themselves coherently, they kissed. Kissed harder. He tasted of vodka and boozy happiness.

  “I’m a little drunk on shots.”

  She stroked his stubbled cheek. “Yeah, I picked that up.”

  “The roadies say it’s a tradition.”

  “Funny how many traditions the roadies have involving partying. When did you hear?”

  “I was planning a sexy night in for us,” he started to explain. “I even got the house cleaned as a surprise.”

  Aww sweet. “It still looks good,” she lied. The best-laid plans of rock stars… Whatever magic he might spin for her through this hiatus could not last. He was destined for a much bigger stage, and this was a timely reminder not to forget that. At the same time, she was so incredibly proud of him.

  “And I made you an antipasto platter.” He scowled. “Except these bastards ate it all. I did manage to save one stuffed pepper. It’s in the fridge, hidden behind the yogurt.”

  She started laughing at his drunken earnestness. “Kiss me, you fool.” But he pulled away, his expression serious.

  “The nominees party falls on our wedding anniversary.”

  “I think we can postpone our celebration for the Grammys, babe.”

  “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  He was genuinely worried about this. “Jared.” She caught his face between her hands. “Let’s just savor tonight, okay? You’ve worked so hard.”

  “We’ve worked so hard. Kayla…” His eyes were suspiciously bright. Her husband got hopelessly sentimental when he got drunk. She intervened before he started sobbing like a baby.

  “Yes,” she said solemnly, “I’d love a shot. And crazy monkey sex later.”

  He threw back his head and laughed.

  “Shush, not so loud,” she told him. “You’ll wake the kids.”

  He shook his head. “I put noise canceling headphones on Rocco. He’s in a port-a-cot in Maddie’s room, sound asleep. Dimity’s reading our daughter a goodnight story.”

  “Wow, is Dimity drunk too?” Dimity made no secret about her aversion to children. On the tour she’d ensured a safe distance between herself and Kayla’s kids, though Kayla had noticed a growing soft spot for Maddie—No wonder, Maddie was Dimity’s mini-me.

  “No, it’s the weirdest thing.” Jared hauled her into his arms. “So, tell me more about the crazy monkey sex. Why should Moss be the only one to get it on in this house?”

  “Wait…Moss, already?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “I’ll kill him.” But she bit her lip to keep from smiling. “He’s shameless, isn’t he? And the women he hooks up with are the same.”

  Even drunk, her husband could read her. “Wife,” he said, intrigued. “What’s turning you on?”

  “It’s more of an admiration thing. Those women are so sexually assertive. If I… Never mind.”

  “Yeah?” His voice had deepened, his hands cradled her butt. “If you what?”

  If I had their perfect bodies. She ducked out of his hold. “I’ll get back to you.”

  “You will,” he promised. “Tonight.” He caught her hand. “For now, let me pour you that shot.”

  Seth was still standing in the doorway, his back to them and the baby monitor pressed to his ear. As they drew closer, the song on the speakers shut off abruptly. Someone wasn’t happy with the choice. That was the trouble with musicians’ parties—everyone had an opinion on the playlist.

  The drummer glanced up, such anguish in his blue eyes that Kayla’s steps faltered. But when he saw them, a switch flicked, and there was his brilliant smile.

  Jared hadn’t noticed anything. “My wife wants a shot. Care to join us?”

  “I’ll pour.”

  “Is something wrong?” Kayla asked him.

  “Nothing a shot won’t fix.” Handing her the baby monitor, he led the way to the kitchen.

  Curious, she lifted the monitor to her ear, but all she heard was Dimity reading Maddie a story. Whatever Seth had reacted to, it hadn’t been the story of Sleeping Beauty.

  Chapter Eight

  Jared woke up with what felt like a fractured skull, and Maddie in the bed again. What was this, groundhog day?

  “Baby girl,” he croaked when she beamed at him. “W
e talked about this.”

  “Mommy swapped with me cause you snored, Daddy.”

  He couldn’t remember coming to bed. “Okay, but you sleep in your own room from now on.”

  “Mommy lets me sleep in her bed when you’re not here.”

  “She does?”

  “Sometimes.” Maddie obviously figured he’d verify her story. “She says she needs a cuddlebug when the bed gets too big.”

  Now his heart hurt, too. “How often is that?”

  She shrugged.

  “Maddie girl, can you please get—”

  “My present list!”

  “Water,” he gasped. But she was already gone. He closed his eyes, then jerked awake again a few minutes later when his daughter bounced on his chest, looking at her calendar.

  “One, two, three…”

  The rocks in his head rolled loose and crushed his few remaining brain cells. With a groan, he stilled her wriggling body. This was why he rarely got drunk. The hangover wasn’t worth it.

  “You smell like a Sharpie, Daddy.”

  He took a second to process. Solvent. Right. “Please get Daddy a glass of water.”

  “Mommmmmy!” she hollered at the top of her voice. Jared shoved the pillow over his head. “Daddy wants a drink’a water.”

  He was still trembling when Kayla arrived, balancing Rocco on her hip and holding a glass of iced water. His son was using a bottle of Advil as a rattle. Thank you, God.

  Moving Maddie to one side, he propped himself on an elbow and groped for the water. “You are my one and only truest love.” He drank the water in noisy gulps.

  “Dada?” His son held out his arms.

  “His diaper?”

  “Clean.”

  “Good, because I’m barely holding the water down.” Putting the glass on the bedside table, he accepted his son. “Give Daddy the drugs.”

  Rocco swung away. “No!”

  “I thought of something to write on my present list.” Maddie slid out of bed and ran. Seeing her go, Rocco wriggled to get down.

  Kayla confiscated the Advil, set their baby on his feet and he was off, following his sister.

  Shielding his eyes, Jared peered up at his wife, who was looking remarkably fresh and pretty. “I turned off the stove, right?”

  “Everyone said the pasta sauce was delicious.”

  “Those bastards. Now you’ll have to take my word for it.”

  “Honey, I believe you.” Unscrewing the lid, she handed him two tablets.

  “Kiss?”

  “Anywhere but the mouth.”

  As he picked up the glass, Jared managed a weak smile. “Damn, I was hoping for tongue. Did we have crazy monkey sex last night?”

  “What do you think?”

  “That I was carried to bed, but not by you?” He swallowed the pills, chased them down with water.

  “Good guess.” She kissed his forehead. “Sleep. I’ll keep the kids away.”

  “You are a goddess among…something…” Handing her the glass, he collapsed on the pillows.

  “Think you’re up to getting the Christmas tree this afternoon?”

  Dimly, he remembered promising something of the sort. “Yes, we’ll get the tree.” He was determined to prove he could put his family first. I’m not falling at the first hurdle.

  “You might have other things to do, Grammy nominee.”

  “No, today is tree day. Just…” Gingerly, he replaced the pillow over his aching head. “Give me a couple of hours.”

  When he resurfaced, it was ten a.m. He showered, dressed and checked his messages. Dozens. Phoning Dimity, he gave her all his passwords on social media. “I’ll phone my parents, but please be me everywhere else,” he begged her. “I’ve got to buy this Christmas tree.” I’ve got to show Kayla I’m reliable.

  “Okay, but I’ll own you for the next two days for promo.”

  “We’ll negotiate.”

  Dimity wouldn’t push. His Rage family had seen his devastation when Kayla left the tour, and understood his first priority was to make things right with his family.

  Palms and forehead pressed to the glass, Rocco was at the patio doors watching birds eat pizza remnants in the yard when Jared walked into the living room. Other than the smeared windows, the house was spotless. Damn, she’d already done the clean-up. Picking up his son, he carried him into the kitchen, where he found his wife unpacking groceries.

  “Good timing,” she greeted him. “There’s coffee freshly made,” she said. “And a bagel—”

  She broke off as he backed her into the counter, seized the celery she was holding, and gave it to Rocco.

  “You still owe me a morning kiss.”

  Her lips curved. “Do I, now?”

  “With tongue,” he said solemnly.

  “In front of our baby?”

  Rocco was chewing the leafy head of the celery.

  “Okay, I’ll take a rain check on the tongue.” He pressed his lips to her smiling mouth.

  “Someone’s feeling better.”

  “I’m a Grammy nominee. Ever done it with a Grammy nominee before?”

  “No.” She widened her eyes. “Is it different?”

  “You’ll find—” Jared laughed as celery brushed his neck. “Son, you’re spoiling the mood.”

  “And that celery isn’t washed yet.” Kayla reclaimed it, and their baby screeched.

  “Have some of Daddy’s bagel instead,” Jared told him. Next to the coffee-maker, the bagel sat on a plate, oozing cream cheese and jam. “Where’s our daughter?”

  “Getting dressed for Christmas tree shopping. Apparently that requires another outfit.” Kayla opened the fridge and put the celery in the crisper. “She’s been hanging out waiting for you to wake up.”

  “Then I’ll eat fast.” Putting Rocco in his high chair, he gave him a piece of the bagel, wolfed the rest, and poured two coffees into travel mugs. “Want me to help?”

  “Nearly done. Go see what’s keeping Maddie. Oh, and I need my wedding ring back.”

  “Sure.” He fetched it out of his jacket pocket on the way to his daughter’s bedroom, where he found her preening in her dragon dress. “Maddie, you’ll need to change into something warmer. Your coat won’t fit over the dragon wings.”

  “I won’t be cold.”

  “You will when we get outside.” He went to help her undress and she spun away from him. “No, I wanna wear this.”

  Overtired. “We can’t get the tree until you change clothes.”

  Her lower lip jutted. “You’re not the boss of me, Mommy is.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d said that since he came home. She was punishing him for his late start. At this point, he normally conceded the field. But his relationship with his wife wasn’t the only one that needed recalibrating. “Kayla,” he called. “Can you come in here a moment?”

  She stuck her head round the door. “What’s up?”

  “I need you to tag me.”

  Confusion came into Maddie’s hostile eyes. “What’s that?”

  “You know when we watch wrestling, how the guys tag each other when they’re tired and want someone else to take over?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Attention on his daughter, he held up his palm. “Tag me, Mommy, and make me the boss. I need our daughter to put on warm clothes.”

  “No, Mommy, tag me. I want to be the boss.”

  “Sorry, little one, it only works between parents.” Kayla slapped palms with Jared. As their daughter opened her mouth to complain, he shuddered dramatically and rolled his eyes.

  Maddie was transfixed. “What you doing, Daddy?”

  “It’s the magic. Quick. Get dressed before it wears off.”

  Watching him carefully, Maddie hauled off her dress. “Is it still there?”

  “Yeah, but we have to work fast.” He found jeans and a sweater and bundled her into them, stopping when one arm was still loose. “You’ll have to do the last bit. I’ve run out of power.”

&nb
sp; Giggling, she finished dressing herself. “Silly Daddy.”

  “Silly Daddy,” Kayla agreed.

  As they left the bedroom, his wife caught his face and kissed him. There was tongue. He returned her wedding ring, then went outside, whistling, and attached roof racks to Kayla’s car. It was easier than moving the kids’ seats to his.

  They all sang ‘Jingle Bells’ while she drove them to the Christmas tree lot, kids in the back, Jared in the passenger seat. He was reaching back to hand Maddie a book when he glimpsed a copy of Musique magazine wedged between the kids’ seats. His face on the cover.

  “Where’d this come from?”

  Kayla glanced at it and refocused on the road. “Dimity gave it to me yesterday. I meant to pass it on but when I got home, saw the party…I guess I forgot all about it.”

  Except she’d buckled the kids in their car seats, not ten minutes earlier. The same thought must have struck Kayla, because a blush swept up her cheek.

  Suddenly, they were on dangerous ground.

  He flicked through the pages, trying not to feel self-conscious. “I’ll have to get it translated.”

  “Dimity says it’s very complimentary.” Kayla’s voice was carefully neutral.

  We have to talk about Simone. But not here. Then, about to put the magazine away, he snorted in startled amusement. “Sh…oot, where’d they find that picture of us?” He held it up so she could see it. “That was a great night.”

  She barely glanced at it. “Was it?”

  “Don’t you remember? It was the night we first…” He glanced over his shoulder, saw Maddie engrossed in her book, and played it safe anyway. “Went all the way home.”

  “Like the little piggy?” Maddie piped up. There was no doubt about it, kids tuned into tone.

  “Very much like the little piggy,” Kayla muttered. “Wow, you must have needed to get home real bad.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shot him an incredulous gaze. “Seriously?”

  He looked at the picture again, Kayla being the life and soul of the party, and himself trying too hard to look cool.

  “I see what you mean.” He started to laugh. “What the hell did you see in me?”