It Started at Christmas...

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It Started at Christmas... Page 12

by Janice Lynn


  * * *

  How in the world had he talked her into this? McKenzie asked herself crossly as she pushed the Spencers’ doorbell.

  She didn’t do this.

  Only, apparently, this year she did.

  Even to the point she’d made a dessert to bring with her to Lance’s parents. How corny was that?

  She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t do “meet the parents.” She just didn’t.

  Panic set in. She turned, determined to escape before anyone knew she was there.

  At that moment the front door opened.

  “You’re here.”

  “Not really,” she countered. “Forget you saw me. I’m out of here.”

  Shaking his head, he grinned. “Get in here.”

  “I think I made a mistake.”

  His brows rose. “McKenzie, you just drove almost an hour to get here and not so you could get here and leave without Christmas dinner.”

  “I’ve done crazier things.” Like agree to come to Christmas dinner with Lance’s family in the first place.

  “Did you make something?” He gestured to the dish she held.

  “A dessert, but—”

  “No buts, McKenzie. Get in here.”

  She took a deep breath. He was right. She was being ridiculous. She had gotten off work, gone home, showered, grabbed the dessert she’d made the night before and typed his parents’ address into her GPS.

  And driven almost an hour to get here.

  “Fine, but you owe me.”

  He leaned forward, kissed the tip of her nose. “Anything you want.”

  “Promises. Promises.”

  He grinned, took the dish from her, and motioned her inside. “I’m glad you’re here. I was afraid you’d change your mind.”

  “I did,” she reminded him as she stepped into his parents’ foyer. “Only I waited a bit too late because you caught me before I could escape.”

  “Then I’m glad I noticed your headlights as your car pulled into the driveway, because I missed you last night.”

  He’d driven to his parents’ home the afternoon before when he’d finished seeing his patients. It had been the first evening since their frozen yogurt date that they’d not seen each other.

  She’d missed him too.

  Which didn’t jibe well, but she didn’t have time to think too much on it, because a pretty woman who appeared to be much younger than McKenzie knew she had to be stepped into the foyer. She had sparkly blue eyes, dark brown hair that she had clipped up, black slacks and the prettiest Christmas sweater McKenzie had ever seen. Her smile lit up her entire face.

  Lance looked a lot like his mother.

  “We are so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed, her Southern drawl so pronounced it was almost like something off a television show. “Lance has been useless for the past hour, waiting on you to get here.”

  “Thanks, Mom. You just called me useless to my girl.” Lance’s tone was teasing, his look toward his mother full of adoration.

  McKenzie wanted to go on record that she wasn’t Lance’s girl, but technically she supposed she was. At least for the time being.

  “Nonsense. She knows what I meant,” his mother dismissed his claim and pulled McKenzie into a tight hug. She smelled of cinnamon and cookies.

  Christmas, McKenzie thought. His mother smelled of Christmas. Not McKenzie’s past Christmases, but the way Christmas was supposed to smell. Warm, inviting, full of goodness and happiness.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” McKenzie said, not quite sure what to make of her hug. Lance’s mother’s hug had been real, warm, welcoming. She couldn’t recall the last time her own mother or father had given her such a hug. Had they ever?

  “Not nearly as nice as it is to finally meet one of Lance’s girlfriends.”

  Did he not usually bring his girlfriends home? He’d said her being there was no big deal. If he didn’t usually bring anyone home, then her presence was a big deal. She wanted to ask, but decided it wasn’t her place because really what did it matter? She was here now. Whatever he’d done with his past girlfriends didn’t apply to her, just as what he did with her wouldn’t apply to his future girlfriends.

  Future girlfriends. Ugh. She didn’t like the thought of him with anyone but her. His smile, his touch, his kisses, they belonged to her. At least for now, she reminded herself.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” Lance leaned in, kissed her briefly on the mouth, then took her hand. “I hope you came hungry.”

  Her gaze cut to Lance’s and she wondered if he’d read her thoughts again?

  “Take a deep breath. It’s time to meet the rest of the crew,” he warned.

  “Be nice, Lance. You’ll scare her off. They aren’t that bad and you know it,” his mother scolded.

  Lance just winked at her.

  * * *

  Two hours later, McKenzie had to agree with Lance’s mother. His family wasn’t that bad. She’d met his grandparents, who were so hard of hearing they had everyone talking loudly so they could keep up with the conversation, his aunts and uncles, his cousins, and a handful of children who belonged to his cousins.

  It was quite a bunch: loud, talking over one another, laughing, eating and truly enjoying each other’s company.

  The kids seemed to adore Lance. They called him Uncle Lance, although technically he was their second cousin.

  “You’re quiet,” Lance observed, leaning in close so that his words were just for her ears.

  “Just taking it all in,” she admitted.

  “We’re something else, for sure. Is this similar to your family get-togethers?”

  McKenzie laughed. “Not even close.”

  “How so?”

  “I won’t bore you with my childhood woes.”

  “Nothing about you would bore me, McKenzie. I want to know more about you.”

  She started to ask what would be the point, but somehow that comment felt wrong in this loving, warm environment, so she picked up her glass of tea, took a sip, then whispered, “I’ll tell you some other time.”

  That seemed to appease him. They finished eating. Everyone, men and women, helped clear the table. The kids had eaten at a couple of card tables set up in the kitchen and they too cleared their spots without prompting. McKenzie was amazed at how they all seemed to work together so cohesively.

  The men then retired to the large family room while the women put away leftovers and loaded the dishwasher. All except Lance. He seemed reluctant to leave McKenzie.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m sure they won’t bite.”

  He still looked hesitant.

  “Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  * * *

  What indeed? Lance wondered. He had rarely brought women home and never to a Christmas function. His entire family had been teasing him that this must be the one for him to bring her home to Christmas with the family. He’d tried to explain that he and McKenzie had been coworkers and friends for years, but the more he’d talked, the more he reminded them that he’d already met and lost “the one,” the more they’d smiled. By the time McKenzie arrived, he’d been half-afraid his family would have them walking down the aisle before morning.

  He didn’t think she’d appreciate any implication that they were more than just a casual couple.

  They weren’t. Just a hot and heavy two-month relationship destined to go nowhere because McKenzie didn’t do long-term commitment and his seventeen-year-old self had vowed to always love Shelby, for his heart to always be loyal to her memory.

  What was the worst that could happen? He hesitated.

  “Seriously, Lance. I’m a big girl. They aren’t going to scare me off.”

  “I just...” He knew he was being ridiculous. “I don’
t mind helping clean up.”

  “Lance Donovan Spencer, go visit with your grandparents. You’ve not seen them since Thanksgiving,” his mother ordered. “That will give me and your girl time to get to know each other without you looming over us.”

  “Looming?” he protested indignantly.

  “Go.” His mother pointed toward the door.

  Lance laughed. “I can tell my presence and help is not appreciated or wanted around here, so I will go visit with my grandmother who loves me very much.”

  “Hmm, maybe she’s who you should list on your references,” McKenzie teased him, her eyes twinkling.

  “Maybe. Mom’s been bumped right off.”

  “I heard that,” his mom called out over her shoulder.

  He leaned in and kissed McKenzie’s cheek. “I’m right in the next room if their interrogation gets to be too much.”

  “Noted.” McKenzie was smiling, like she wouldn’t mind his mother’s, aunts’ and cousins’ questions. Lord, he hoped not. They didn’t have boundaries and McKenzie had boundaries that made the Great Wall of China look like a playpen.

  “Lance tells me you two have only been dating for a few weeks,” his mother said moments after Lance left the kitchen.

  “You know he’s never brought a woman home for Christmas before, right?” This came from one of Lance’s cousins’ wives, Sara Beth.

  “He seems to be head over heels about you,” another said. “Told us you two work together and recently became an item.”

  “We want the full scoop,” one of his dad’s sisters added.

  “Um, well, sounds like you already know the full scoop,” McKenzie began slowly. She didn’t want to give Lance’s family the wrong idea. “We have been friends since I returned to Coopersville after finishing my residency.”

  “So you’re from Coopersville originally? Your family is still there?”

  “My mother is. My dad lives here in Lewisburg.”

  His mother’s eyes lit up with excitement. “We might know him. What’s his name?”

  She hoped they didn’t know him. Okay, so he was a highly successful lawyer, but personally? Her father was a mess. A horrible, womanizing, cheating mess. If Lance’s mother knew him, it probably meant he’d hit on her. Not the impression McKenzie wanted Lance’s mother to have of her.

  Avoiding the question, she said instead, “I don’t have any brothers or sisters but, like Lance, I do have a few cousins.” Nice enough people but they rarely all got together. Really, the only time McKenzie saw them was when one of them was sick and was seen at the clinic. “My parents divorced when I was four and I never quite got past that.”

  She only added the last part so Lance’s family would hopefully move on past the subject of her parents. Definitely not because she wanted to talk about her parents’ divorce. She never talked about that. At least, not the nitty-gritty details that had led up to her world falling apart.

  “Poor thing,” Lance’s mother sympathized. “Divorce is hard at any age.”

  “Amen,” another of Lance’s aunts said. “Lance’s Uncle Gerry is my second husband. The first and I were like gasoline and fire, always explosive.”

  The conversation continued while they cleaned up the remainder of the dishes and food, jumping from one subject to another but never back to McKenzie’s parents. She liked Lance’s noisy, warm family.

  “Well, we’re just so happy you’re here, McKenzie. It’s about time that boy found someone to pull him out of the past.”

  McKenzie glanced toward the aunt who’d spoken up. Her confusion must have shown because the women looked back and forth at each other as if trying to decide how much more to say.

  Sara Beth gave McKenzie an empathetic look. “I guess he never told you about Shelby?”

  Who was Shelby and what had she meant to Lance?

  “No.”

  The woman winced as if she wished she could erase having mentioned the woman’s name. “Shelby was Lance’s first love.”

  Was. An ominous foreboding took hold of McKenzie.

  “What happened?”

  “She died.” This came from Sara Beth. Every pair of eyes in the room was trained on McKenzie to gauge her reaction, triggering the usual reaction to being stared at that she always had.

  Lance’s first love had died and he’d never breathed a word.

  “Enough talk about the past and anything but how wonderful it is to have McKenzie with us,” Lance’s mother dried her hands on a towel and pulled McKenzie over to the counter for another of her tight, all-encompassing hugs. “Truly, we are grateful that you are in my son’s life. He is a special man with a big heart and you are a fortunate young woman.”

  “Yes,” McKenzie agreed, stunned at the thought someone Lance had loved had died. Was he still in love with Shelby? How had the woman died? How long ago? “Yes, he is a special man.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?” McKenzie asked the man stretching out beside her. He wore dark running pants that emphasized his calf and thigh muscles and a bright-colored long-sleeved running shirt that outlined a chest McKenzie had taken great pleasure in exploring the night before as they’d lain in bed and “rung in” the New Year.

  Lance glanced at her and grinned. “I’ll be waiting for you at the finish line.”

  She hoped so. She hoped Lance hadn’t been teasing about being a runner. He was in great shape, had phenomenal endurance, but she’d still never known him to run. But the truth was he hadn’t stayed the whole night at her place ever, so he could do the same as her and run in the early morning before work. They had sex, often lay in bed talking and touching lightly afterward, then he went home. Just as he had the night before. She hadn’t asked him to stay. He hadn’t asked to. Just, each night, whenever he got ready to go, he kissed her good-night and left.

  Truth was, she’d have let him stay Christmas night after they’d got back from his parents’. He’d insisted on following her back to her place. Despite the late hour, he’d come in, held her close, then left. She hadn’t wanted him to go. She’d have let him stay every night since. He just hadn’t wanted to. Or, if he had wanted to, he’d chosen to go home anyway.

  Why was that? Did it have to do with Shelby? Should she tell him that she knew about his first love? That his family had told her about his loss? They just hadn’t told her any of the details surrounding the mysterious woman Lance had loved.

  Maybe the details didn’t matter. They shouldn’t matter.

  Only McKenzie admitted they did. Perhaps it was just curiosity. Perhaps it was jealousy. Perhaps it was something more she couldn’t put her finger on.

  She’d almost asked him about Shelby a dozen times, but always changed her mind. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her.

  Today was the first day of a new year. A new beginning.

  Who knew, maybe tonight he’d stay.

  If not, she was okay with that, too. He might be right in going, in not adding sleeping together to their relationship, because she didn’t count the light dozing they sometimes did after their still phenomenal comings together as sleep. Sleeping together until morning would be another whole level of intimacy.

  “You don’t have to try to run next to me,” she advised, thinking they were intimate enough already. Too intimate because imagining life without him was already becoming difficult. Maybe they could stay close friends after their two months were up. Maybe. “Just keep your own steady pace and I’ll keep mine. We’ll meet up at the end.”

  Grinning, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  They continued to stretch their muscles as the announcer talked, telling them about the cause they were running for, about the rules, etc. Soon they were off.

  McKenzie never tried to take the lead early on. In some races
she never took the lead. Not that she didn’t always do her best, but sometimes there were just faster runners for that particular distance. Today she expected to do well, but perhaps not win as she was much more of an endurance runner than a speed one.

  Lance ran beside her and to her pleased surprise he didn’t try to talk. In the past when she’d convinced friends to run with her, they’d wanted to have a gab session. That was until they became so breathless they stopped to walk, and then they often expected her to stop and walk with them.

  McKenzie ran.

  Lance easily kept pace with her. Halfway in she began to wonder if she was slowing him down rather than the other way around. She picked up her pace, pushing herself, suddenly wanting distance between them. Without any huffing or puffing he ran along beside her as if she hadn’t just upped their pace. That annoyed her.

  “You’ve been holding out on me,” she accused a little breathily, thinking it was bad when she was the one reverting to talking. Next thing you knew she’d be stopping to walk.

  “Me?” His gaze cut to her. “I told you that I ran.”

  “I’ve never seen you at any of the local runs and yet clearly you do run.”

  “I don’t do organized runs or competitions.”

  Didn’t do organized runs or competitions? McKenzie frowned. What kind of an answer was that when he clearly enjoyed running as much as she did? Well, maybe almost as much.

  “That’s hard to believe with the way you’re into every charity in the region,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you participate in these fund-raisers when they’re an easy way to raise money for great causes? For that matter, why aren’t you organizing races to raise money for all your special causes?”

  * * *

  McKenzie was a little too smart for her own good. Lance was involved with a large number of charities and helped support many others, but never those that had to do with running.

  He did run several times a week, but always alone, always to clear his head, always with someone else at his side, mentally if not physically.

 

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