Spirits of the Season: Eight Haunting Holiday Romances

by Amanda DeWees

  A moment later, he appeared at the top of the stairs, but in his hurry, he missed a step and fell all the way down, landing at her feet, blood running from his mouth and nose.

  “Ashley, no!” she sobbed as she knelt down, cradling his broken body in her lap. “Someone, help! We need an ambulance!” And then she woke up shaking. This was the dream that had plagued her for her entire adult life. And no matter how many times she had it, it always was just as painful.

  In the morning, she felt like she hadn’t slept at all, so while trying to memorize her lines for the new show, she curled up in a chair in the living room but wound up dozing, instead. The sound of the doorbell woke her. Groggy, she staggered into the entryway to see who was there.

  Lucas stood out in the cold, shuffling his feet from side to side, trying to keep warm.

  She opened the door wide, noticing the file folder tucked under his arm. “Hello, come on in.”

  “I have good news,” he said with a dazzling smile. “I’d just put your house on the market, and not ten minutes later, I got a call. There’s a buyer who’d like to see it right away. I know it’s short notice, but he can be here in twenty minutes.”

  “Wow! That is short notice.” She ran her hand over her mussed hair, then glanced into the living room at her unread script. It wasn’t as if she was getting any work done today anyway. “Sure. Why not?”

  Lucas followed as she went room to room, double-checking to make sure the house looked okay. “How’d you sleep last night?”

  “Not very well.” She made a face and pointed to the bags under her eyes.

  “Even exhausted, you’re still gorgeous.”

  She was surprised by her quickening pulse and how she felt like a breathless girl again because of his compliment. “It’s probably not a good idea for me to be here when your clients arrive, huh?”

  “They’re more comfortable looking around if the owner’s not home. Do you have somewhere you can go?”

  “I’ll visit with Maria, unless you need to show her house as well.”

  “No, not at this time. If they want to see the other homes on the property, I’ll bring them back for a second showing. With more notice, of course.”

  She grabbed her coat from the closet, and as she slipped it on, a car pulled down the driveway. “Good luck,” she said before racing out the door.

  She passed a couple getting out of an SUV. They had two small children with them, a girl and a boy. Laurel waved as she headed across the front lawn and then around the side of the house and over to her housekeeper’s quaint country cottage.

  Although Maria was happy to see her, Laurel could tell she was saddened that someone was already viewing the property. Steering the conversation onto happier topics, Laurel chatted about the upcoming holiday as Christmas was just a few days away.

  About forty minutes and two cups of coffee later, Laurel saw the SUV leave from Maria’s kitchen window. When she returned home, Lucas was on his cell phone. “How’d the showing go?” she asked once he hung up.

  “Great. They loved it. I’ve got two more scheduled for today.”

  And that was how the next couple of days went. She had to admit, she was pleasantly surprised at the amount of interest in her home.

  Her nights, however, were wrought with bad dreams and no sign of Ashley, leaving her to wonder if she’d ever really seen him at all. Maybe Chloe had been mistaken and everything that had happened had only been a figment of her imagination.

  On Christmas Eve, Lucas showed up on her doorstep with a bottle of wine and an offer from the first family who’d looked at the house.

  They went into the living room, and while she looked it over, he opened the wine and poured a glass for them both.

  The offer was lower than she’d hoped, but that wasn’t the only reason for her uncertainty. Something still made her wonder if she was doing the right thing by selling. She set her glass down on the table and went over to the antique pottery horses that her parents had loved so much. “I’d like to take a little time to think about the offer,” she said softly.

  Lucas got up and came over to stand beside her, his eyes questioning. “Are you having second thoughts about selling?”

  She shrugged, and when she looked at him, her eyes were full of tears. Maybe it was because of the wine or the lack of sleep, but she was suddenly overcome with emotion, and then, without knowing how it happened, she was in his arms, and they were like a warm blanket comforting her.

  “You don’t have to rush into anything,” he whispered against her hair. “You’ve got a tough decision to make. Besides, it’s the holiday. The buyers are aware they may not hear back from you until after Christmas.”

  His nearness made her senses spin, and it was way too easy to get lost in the way he looked at her. She could feel his uneven breathing on her cheek as he held her close. And then his mouth covered hers hungrily.

  She was shocked at her own eager response to the touch of his lips, but it was a kiss for her tired soul to melt into. Her shock grew as she had a burning desire, an aching need, for another one.

  When their lips parted, she was left weak and confused. As if sensing her turmoil, Lucas said, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while. I don’t know where this is going, but I sure want to find out. How about starting by saying yes to that invitation of Christmas dinner at my place?”

  Everything took on a clean brightness when he was around. She pressed her lips against his to give her response.

  Chapter 7

  Laurel sat on the edge of the bed, her thoughts still with Lucas and the feel of his warm lips on hers. What in the world was she doing? She came back to Clearwater to sell the house, to try to get her life on track…her life in New York. Not here. Yet Lucas was making her feel things she hadn’t felt since Ashley, and never thought she would again.

  She reached over and opened the top drawer of the bedside table and took out the gold keychain she’d planned to give to Ashley for Christmas so many years ago. She opened the black velvet box and stared at the fleur-de-lis inside, engraved with his initials, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “What am I doing leading Lucas on?” she cried, setting the box down on the bed next to her and placing her head in her hands.

  Her sobs were silenced by the sound of violins and what felt like someone’s hand on her shoulder. She looked up, her eyes still blurry with tears, to see Ashley in front of her. His brow was furrowed, and his full lips turned down into a frown.

  “Don’t cry,” he said softly. “I want you to be happy.”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “But how can you? It’s my fault you’re there, on the other side, and not here with me.”

  He reached out, and she felt a cool tingle cross her hands as he appeared to hold them. “It wasn’t your fault I fell down the stairs, Laurel. Just like it wasn’t your fault the plane your parents were on crashed. Stop blaming yourself for things you have no control over. This is what I’ve been waiting to tell you.”

  “But it was my fault. If I’d gone up to get our coats, instead of you, you’d still be here…”

  His expression was one of understanding, and there was a tenderness to it that went straight to her soul. “You can’t undo the past. Life’s all about choices. Some good, some bad. Just be sure the ones you make in the future bring happiness to your life. You deserve it.”

  The weight lifted from her hands, and Ashley faded away.

  Laurel sat there for a long while thinking about his words and wondering what those choices should be.

  The next morning when she woke up, she still had no clear idea what she should do about anything. And that included Lucas. She had no doubts that he was developing strong feelings for her. Yet she wasn’t being fair to him. She’d be back in New York soon carrying on with her life, and where would that leave him? Pining away for someone who was terrible with relationships of any kind, let alone a long-distance one? No, she needed to make it clear today that while yesterday’s kisses were wonderf
ul, they weren’t going to happen again. She just had to figure out how to do it without hurting him.

  With that thought on her mind, she ate a quick breakfast, showered and dressed, and began her day. It might be Christmas, but she needed to get through two scenes in her script before heading over to Lucas’s house this afternoon.

  Later, before it was time to go, she sat at the kitchen table to write out the checks she’d planned to put inside Maria’s and Jack’s Christmas cards. She planned to give the cards to them after dinner, before she went home. But a thought popped into her mind that made her set her pen down. They’d both been good loyal employees who’d cared for her and this place for many years. They deserved more than a few dollars. They deserved to keep their homes.

  Instead of the money, she set her checkbook aside and wrote them each a letter, then sealed up the envelopes and placed them in her handbag. It felt like a massive weight had been lifted off her heart, and she had Ashley to thank for that.

  * * *

  Chloe did an outstanding job with Christmas dinner, and not only was the food delicious, but the centerpieces she’d made using pinecones, greens, and cinnamon-fragranced candles were fabulous too.

  Laurel was glad that the conversation was kept fun and light. They spent most of the meal reminiscing about Forever Young and her role as Sophie, whose crazy antics had them all in stitches most of the time.

  After the dishes were cleaned up, Chloe announced that she was leaving to go have dessert at a new boyfriend’s house, but that there was fresh cheesecake in the refrigerator if they wanted any. Laurel couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten so much, making her pass on more food.

  A little while later, alone with Lucas and seated in front of a roaring fire in the living room, she brought up the offer on her house. “I’ve decided to take it.”

  His brows shot up. “Without a counter?”

  “With conditions.”

  “Such as?”

  From her purse, she pulled out the letters that she’d written to Maria and Jack and set them on her lap. “Ashley appeared last night. He talked about making choices, and told me to be sure the ones I make here on out will be ones that’ll bring happiness. His words really got me thinking. My happiness isn’t contingent upon only my needs, though. It’s more important to make sure that those important people in my life are happy too. So that brings me to these…” Laurel held up the cards. “I usually just give them a check for Christmas, but they deserve much more than that. I want to give them their homes, along with five acres.”

  Lucas ran his hand over his chin. “So you’re only selling the manor and thirty acres now.”

  “Yes. Do you think the buyers will still be interested?”

  Lucas got up and poured a drink from a decanter on a small side table. He held it out to her. “Want one?” When she shook her head, he chugged it down before replying, “I think I can get them to accept. They were only really interested in your place anyway.”

  “Oh, and one more thing. If they’re thinking of hiring a housekeeper and a maintenance man, I’d like that to be Maria and Jack.”

  Lucas crossed one foot in front of the other as he leaned up against the wall, his mouth turned down into a frown.

  “What’s wrong? Is that asking too much?”

  He shook his head, but his eyes bore into hers. “You amaze me, Laurel. I’ll present your conditions, and if the buyers accept, which I have a pretty strong suspicion they will, I’ll have the attorneys handle what they need to on their end.”

  Laurel got up and went over to him, placing her hand on his arm. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that Maria and Jack will be taken care of.”

  “I can see that.” His tone was low.

  “You don’t seem happy to have a sale.”

  “I’d rather have you here than money.” He looked away so that she couldn’t see what was in his eyes.

  “That brings me to another subject,” she said softly, dreading what she was about to say. “My life is back in New York. Besides, I need to put the past in the past where it belongs. I guess it took a ghost to make me see that. However, despite Ashley saying his death wasn’t my fault, I still blame myself and probably always will…”

  She heard his quick intake of breath. “Your fault? Laurel, it was an accident. A tragic, horrible accident that you had no way of preventing.”

  “But I could have. If I’d gone upstairs instead of him—”

  “If, if, if,” Lucas said angrily, cutting her off. “If Ashley hadn’t been drinking, he might not have fallen.”

  “Drinking?” Laurel staggered back like she’d been punched.

  “I thought you knew. He had a flask in his jacket pocket. That’s probably why he offered to go get your coats…to have a little nip before going on the sleigh ride.”

  She shook her head frantically. “I had no idea. All this time I thought…”

  Before she could say more, he had her in his arms, and she didn’t resist. Instead, she rested her face against the corded muscles of his chest, and the way he ran his hand over her back was almost unbearable in its tenderness. “That still doesn’t change the fact that there can’t be an us,” she said sadly.

  He held her out, tilting her chin up with his hand so that her gaze met his. “Why not? I don’t know where this will go, Laurel, but I haven’t spent my life dreaming of you to give up now because you live in New York. Besides, if things work out for us, a nice brokerage on the Upper East Side doesn’t sound bad, does it?”

  Her heart fluttered wildly. With her past finally put to rest, she could look forward to a brand new future. She curled her arms around his neck, bringing her lips up to meet his so that the series of slow, shivery kisses she bestowed upon him was the best answer she could give.

  The End

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Raine English began her career as a journalist, but writing romance novels was her passion. Her stories have won many awards, including finalling in the Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® and winning the Daphne du Maurier Award. She’s been listed in Amazon’s Top 100 Most Popular Authors in Romance. When not behind her computer, you can find her reading, usually something involving the supernatural. She lives in New England with her family.

  Raine invites you to stop by and see what's new at www.RaineEnglish.com. She also enjoys hearing from her readers. You can reach her at Raine@RaineEnglish.com.

  More books by Raine English can be found on her author page at Amazon.

  In the Holiday Spirit

  Angeline Fortin

  Copyright © 2015 by:

  Angeline Fortin

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book was built at IndieWrites.com. Visit us on Facebook.

  151016.210758

  Chapter 1

  Bruno Mars blared in her ears. An attempt—a rather feeble one—to drown out her churning thoughts. The effort was wasted. Alice knew well enough that the constant tumble and turn of her mind couldn’t be silenced even by uptown funk. Her feet smacked rhythmically in time with the beat as she jogged through Central Park, her dog, Nanny, trotting along beside her. Even her thoughts seemed to bounce with the beat.

  Don’t forget to file the motion on the Scott case. Monday. Has to be done Monday. Need to pick up dog food. Yes, again. Christmas shopping… shit, she better get on that soon unless she wanted to pay a fortune in expedited shipping charges. Oh, and don’t forget to shop for a dress for that charity ball in two weeks. Better do that tomorrow. Of course, she only had to shop for a new dress because she’d lost so much weight since…

  No, don’t go there.

  Just think about the music. Think about the beat. Not about the broken engagement she should’ve been well over by now. At least that’s what everyone told her.

  “On your left,” s
he panted, jogging around a pair of moms pushing strollers along the path circling The Lake. Her dog broke stride only a moment to look back at the cherry-cheeked toddlers in the strollers.

  She’d gotten the dog because her grandmother hadn’t liked her running alone in the park at night. Without a babysitter, Alice liked to tease. That’s why she’d named her Nanny. Besides, though she was completely oversized for city living, the huge black Newfoundland loved kids, was well-behaved, good company in that she never said a word, and yes, she did make Alice feel safer when she jogged through the park at night. She ran there most every weeknight. On weekends, they ran in the mornings. The downside was the park was far more crowded. Especially so on an unseasonably warm winter day like this one.

  The obstacles turned her run into an adventure. As did the slick spots of ice and slush.

  “On your left,” she called out again, this time passing a middle-aged woman out for a power walk lacking in real power or speed. Would she slow down like that eventually? Probably. She’d probably be walking alone, too. Just because her freaking fianc…

  No, don’t go there. It’s been six months. Get over it already.

  She was. Mostly. It was her pride refusing to get over it. Not her heart. Being left standing at the altar had a way of sticking with a woman. She’d been an object of pity and rampant speculation. Especially after her one-time fiancé eloped a couple of months ago to Mexico with another woman. Pride stung a second round when the other woman turned out to be one of Alice’s co-workers.

  Who’d Justin really been coming to see at the office those last few months? Alice or Leslie? Speculation in the workplace had increased tenfold. She wondered, too.