Monica smiled. She felt Jaxon’s eyes on her... did he recognize her? As soon as she thought it, she decided it was impossible. She’d spray-colored her hair gray and white and was wearing spectacles. But when she looked up at him, there was something in his eyes. Amusement? Interest? Remembering?
Chapter Four
Jaxon knew he had the upper hand here. It was plain that she recognized him despite the Santa getup. His mother had told him about Monica and how she was single and had recently broken up with her boyfriend, David. And how Monica was buying the store. The news had stunned him, and after several carefully placed questions, Jaxon had told his parents that he’d wished he would have known sooner.
Of course that wasn’t practical, since they hadn’t been communicating. When his father said, “Why would it matter, Jaxon?” he’d been truthful.
“Because I’ve wanted to come home for some time now, repair my mistakes, and run the store for you so you and Mom can retire.”
His parents had stared at him for a long time. Then, finally, his mother had said, “You must meet Monica. She’s an angel. I don’t know if she’d back out of our agreement though. Perhaps she’ll hire you.”
It had been like a cold bucket of water dumped over his head. He’d waited too long. It was too late. But when he’d stopped in at the diner again for lunch the day before, Taffy told him how David and “his girlfriend” Monica were always getting into fights. And how eventually they made up, and how Monica would be at his beck and call again.
This tore at Jaxon because he couldn’t stand to see a guy like David get away with acting how he did, yet, if Monica did what he wanted, then she wouldn’t be buying the store. Then Taffy told him something that swayed him completely toward Monica staying away from David. Apparently David was a huge flirt when Monica wasn’t around.
Jaxon’s head started to pound immediately at the images that brought to his mind. David was another Cynthia, just gender in reverse. No one deserved that. Not even a woman who was a threat to Jaxon’s future.
Jaxon had hoped that tonight he’d be able to find a chance to warn her about her former boyfriend. He might even have to share some of his experiences about his ex-wife.
But for now, his mother seemed thrilled that they were playing the Clauses at her Christmas party. And he was intent on making his mother happy, anything that might make up for the lost years. He’d spent most of the day helping his parents get ready for the party, hanging lights, rearranging furniture, decorating, even hanging mistletoe above the arch between the dining room and living room. He’d probably taken one too many Ibuprofen to ease the pain in his knees, but it was worth it.
His mother grasped each of their arms. “Now the two of you sit up on those chairs from the dining table, and I’ll get the line organized so kids can tell you what they want for Christmas.” She looked at Monica. “They’ll have to sit on Jaxon’s right knee, since he had surgery on his left.”
Monica flashed a smile and said, “Sure thing.”
“Of course,” Jaxon added. He let Monica lead the way to the dining chairs. Above all the Christmas scents of cinnamon and pine, he couldn’t help notice that she wore a floral-scented perfume. It made him think of the first wildflowers of spring, pushing their way through the cold winter earth.
He sat next to her, and kids started clamoring to be first.
Monica reached for a little girl who was getting pushed back by the bigger kids and gently drew her forward. “What’s your name?”
“Elizabeth,” the tiny thing said.
“I love your dress, Elizabeth,” Monica said. “Can you tell us what you’d like for Christmas?”
Jaxon wasn’t even sure he heard half of the kids’ requests. Instead, he listened to Monica and paid attention to her sweet nature. He couldn’t imagine Cynthia doing this in a million years. She’d be standing in the background, a glass of wine in her hand, while she checked out the men in the room.
The longer Jaxon sat by Monica and watched her with the kids, the more guilty he felt for even wanting her to back out of buying his parents’ store.
When all of the kids had had a turn, and some of them were begging for a second turn, Jaxon’s father announced, “We’d like to thank Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus for visiting us tonight, but they must be off to help the elves load all the toys into their sleigh.”
The kids squealed, and Jaxon rose to his feet, taking Monica by the hand and helping her to her feet too.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” he called out. “Don’t forget to put your stockings out.”
Monica called out a “Merry Christmas!” as well and walked with him to the front door. He led her outside and shut the door behind him.
“Now what?” she said, withdrawing her hand and rubbing her hands together.
Jaxon’s breaths puffed out into the cold air. “Did you bring something to change into? We can go back around the house in through the kitchen.”
Monica looked down at her red velvet costume. “I didn’t. I guess I didn’t think past the Santa stunt.”
Jaxon tugged the wig from his hair. His hair was probably a mess. His disguise was completely compromised now.
“Are you sure you should be doing that here?” Monica asked. “What if a kid looks out the window?”
“Good point.” He moved down the porch steps, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. He turned back to look at her. “Coming?”
“Where?”
“Around the house to the kitchen.” He smiled at her, hoping it would encourage her. “It’s freezing out here,” he added.
“But I don’t have a change of clothes.”
“I’ll get you something of my mom’s.”
“Uh, she’s about a foot shorter than me,” Monica said. “I could just run home I suppose.”
“Come on,” Jaxon said, motioning for her to follow him. “You don’t want to miss the party. I can just hurry up to my mom’s room.”
“Okay,” Monica agreed, although she sounded hesitant.
He knew it wasn’t her first choice, but going home and changing would probably take longer than she thought. “Oh, wait. What about my gray hair?”
“Beanie?” Jaxon suggested.
She shrugged and followed him around the house. “How’s your knee?”
He hadn’t even realized he’d been limping, since he was so used to favoring it. “Getting better every day.”
“So...” she said in a soft voice. “I don’t know if you recognize me, but we actually met a few days ago at Daisy’s Diner.”
He glanced over at her. The red velvety costume, the gray-colored hair, the gold-rimmed spectacles. “I don’t know if I would have recognized you right off, but I put it together when my mom told me all about you and your recent breakup.” Actually, he probably would have recognized her. Despite her disguise, she was still the pretty young woman from the restaurant with those pale blue eyes that he had found himself thinking about more than once over the past couple of days.
“Oh.” She fell silent.
Jaxon rushed to fill in the awkwardness. “Look,” he said. “I know what you’re going through. I...” He stopped just outside the door leading into the kitchen. The night’s cold air had left his fingers numb and slowed his words. “Your boyfriend reminds me a lot of my ex-wife.”
Monica looked up at him, her eyes glinting silver beneath the moonlight. “Oh.” It was a whisper this time. She looked away as if she was embarrassed that he’d said something so personal.
Jaxon wanted to spill out all the warnings that he’d been collecting to tell her ever since his mother told him about Monica’s connection to his family. Instead, he simply stood there, watching her as she gazed across the side yard. He’d seen the pain in her eyes, and it was as if he didn’t need to say much.
Then he saw that she was trembling. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but when she looked at him, he saw tears in her eyes.
“Hey, it’ll be okay.” He squeezed her shoulder.
“We’re broken up for good now, but it’s hard, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
She sniffed, then stepped toward the door and opened it.
Jaxon followed her into the mud room, wishing he could offer her comfort, but not knowing how.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “I’m sneaking up the back stairs and I will change, then bring something down to you.”
“All right,” Monica said, her smile tentative.
Jaxon had the sudden impulse to pull her into his arms and hug her. Instead, he turned and left her waiting in the mud room. He took the stairs as fast as he could, while favoring his left knee. Once in his old bedroom, he stripped out of the Santa suit, then pulled on a fresh shirt. He stopped to look in the mirror on his way out, surprised that he was caring so much about his appearance.
Once in his mom’s room, he searched for something Monica could wear. He finally settled on a blouse and a black skirt. Then he grabbed a pair of black heels from the floor of his mom’s closet.
Moments later, he was back in the mud room to find Monica sitting on the bench, scrolling through her phone. She must have washed her face in the adjoining guest bathroom, because the drawn age lines were gone from her face. Her lips were pressed in a thin line as she studied her phone.
He sat beside her. “Something wrong?”
She lifted a shoulder and put her phone away. “I should have left my phone off. David keeps texting. He wants to get together tomorrow— it being Christmas and all. He says he has a gift for me.”
“Just tell him you have plans,” Jaxon said, trying not to stare at her freshly scrubbed face and silver-blue eyes. She’d put away her spectacles, and her hair was damp— it seemed as if she’d tried to get some of the gray coloring out her dark auburn hair.
“He knows I don’t,” she said. “My mom’s in a care center, and a visit to her will only take a half hour.”
Jaxon remembered his mother saying something about Monica’s family, but now he couldn’t remember what. “Is she sick?”
“Alzheimer’s,” Monica said in a dejected voice.
“I’m really sorry about that. What time are you planning on visiting her tomorrow?”
“She’s always better in the mornings,” Monica said. “So I’ll take her gift over to her then. She won’t remember who gave it to her, but that’s okay.”
“Come here after,” Jaxon said. “My parents would be thrilled.”
Monica opened her mouth, then shut it. Jaxon noticed she’d applied some kind of shiny lip gloss, likely something she’d kept in her purse. He really shouldn’t be looking at her lips.
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” she said. “I mean, Christmas is for families, and you haven’t spent a Christmas with them in a long—”
“Monica,” Jaxon interrupted, grasping her hand. She seemed as surprised at his gesture as he was. “We’d love to have you. My parents would be more than happy for you to spend Christmas with us.” He leaned close, keeping her hand in his. “They like you more than me. It’s as if you’re their own daughter. Please come.”
Pink flushed her cheeks, and Monica smiled. “All right. But only because you said please.”
“Is that all it takes?”
Her face pinked more, and Jaxon gave a quiet laugh.
The sound of a buzzing phone broke the moment— whatever moment it was— and Monica withdrew her hand and reached into her bag.
Jaxon didn’t need to see the text to know it was from her boyfriend— a guy he hoped would stay her ex-boyfriend.
Chapter Five
Monica didn’t know if her heart was racing because she’d just wondered what it would be like to kiss Jaxon Ungritch, or if her heart was racing from increased annoyance with David. Now he was saying he wanted to meet her tonight after the party. He, of course, knew she was at the Ungritches’ Christmas party. He probably would have been here with her if they hadn’t had that fight. Or broken up.
Jaxon had just left the mud room to join the party again. She’d locked herself into the bathroom and changed into the clothes he’d brought down from his mother’s room. They didn’t come close to fitting, of course, but they’d do for the last bit of the party. She turned to look at herself in the mirror. The blouse was red— festive, at least— and the skirt black. The low heels were too small and pinched her toes, so maybe she’d find a place to sit and wriggle her feet halfway out of them. The craft table would be the perfect place to hide her feet.
She ran her fingers through her hair again and smoothed it as best as she could. It hadn’t been in the bun too long, so there weren’t obnoxious bumps in it. She turned to open the door, took a deep breath, and let herself out.
Jaxon had been so attentive to her, listening to everything she said, without interrupting or even pressing for more information. He hadn’t asked what David was saying in his texts, and hadn’t hesitated to invite her to his house.
She was more than curious about him. What had made him leave; what had made him return? Of course she knew the bare facts as told to her by his mother, but she wanted to know what was in his mind and heart. Jaxon was a confident-looking man, to say the least, and if she didn’t know some of his hardships, she would have assumed he had the world in his palm. That he hadn’t been through a rocky marriage, hadn’t been hurt like she had by someone he cared about.
But she’d seen it in his eyes— the deep pain, the understanding, the empathy. Jaxon knew what it was like to love and lose. To take a risk that backfired.
He was so opposite of David. For Jaxon to humble himself, to return home and to try to reconcile with his family, was something she could never picture David doing. David always thought he was right, no matter what, and if he did realize he was wrong, he’d just spin the situation until it seemed that events had occurred because he had made them happen that way.
Jaxon was... genuine.
That was the best word she could use to describe him. It was no wonder— only a good and decent man could come from Mr. and Mrs. Ungritch. Even though he’d been the prodigal son for a while, his basest nature was good. Monica could feel it.
She thought of him choosing the clothing from his mother’s closet for her to wear, and she found herself blushing over it. She thought of the way he told her he understood what she was going through with David. She thought of the way he’d grasped her hand, more than once. He wasn’t afraid to comfort her.
Monica walked through the kitchen willing her cheeks to stop blushing. She stepped into the living room and stopped.
Jaxon was in the middle of the room, playing some sort of charades game with a bunch of kids. They were jumping around him, trying to guess which Disney character he was. By his exaggerated movements, as he favored his injured knee, Monica knew he was acting like Dumbo the elephant. But maybe that wasn’t the latest and greatest hero, so the kids were stumped.
Jaxon turned in her direction, making a sweeping motion with his arm— like it was an elephant’s trunk.
“We give up!” the kids called out. “Tell us what you are.”
Jaxon’s eyes met Monica’s, and she smiled. “Let’s see if any of the adults can guess.”
“All right.” Monica crossed toward him, stopped and faced the kids. “Have you guys ever seen the movie Dumbo?”
Two of the kids shouted, “Yes!”
Jaxon laughed. “She’s right.”
“She gets the prize!”
Monica turned to look at Jaxon, arching her brow. “What’s the prize?”
“A candy cane!” one kid said while, at the same time, a girl of about ten kid said, “A kiss under the mistletoe.”
Monica blinked, then looked up where the girl was pointing. They were standing under the archway that led to the dining room, and there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the faux pine bow gracing the arch.
“Oh,” Monica said, not sure what to say.
Jaxon
shoved his hands in his pockets, his face taking on a red tint. “Either prize works for me.”
“A kiss!” Another kid joined in with the girl’s suggestion.
If Monica’s heart wasn’t hammering so hard, she would probably laugh about this. Jaxon was clearly embarrassed, but he was also looking at her with decided interest.
“Candy canes are my favorite candy,” Monica told the kids.
“Kiss her,” one of the boys called out. “That’s the best prize.”
She turned to Jaxon, ready to tell him the candy was just fine. But he leaned toward her before she could speak. He kissed her cheek so quickly that Monica wasn’t sure she felt anything.
The kids squealed and clapped. One little kid grabbed Monica’s hand and said, “Guess what I’m getting for Christmas?”
Monica was sure she was blushing from Jaxon’s sudden kiss, but she didn’t have time to think about anything before the other kids surrounded her, demanding that she perform a charade for them. It seemed even without their Santa suits, she and Jaxon were the biggest draws of the party.
Another hour passed before parents started to round up their kids and leave the party. Monica couldn’t remember a time she’d become so immersed and enjoyed herself so much. And the entire time Jaxon had been with her. They hadn’t had any personal conversation except for in the mudroom before they changed their clothes. But Monica was learning plenty about his character as she watched him interact with the kids at the party.
She couldn’t imagine David doing this in a million years. Jaxon was patient and genuine with the kids. He listened to them and made them laugh. He made her laugh. She found that she was not only physically aware of him, but she was impressed with him as well. No wonder his mother had missed him so much.
“You’ve both been wonderful,” Mrs. Ungritch said, as if she’d just heard Monica’s thoughts. “Thank you for coming, Monica, and playing the part of you know who.”
All of the kids had gone home, and only a few adults remained, helping with the cleanup.
Under the Mistletoe Collection Page 21