A Forever Christmas

by Marie Ferrarella

  Gabe merely waved her last words away the way he might a persistent gnat.

  “Did what I had to. Didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have,” he added, then got to the real reason for his ducking into the diner instead of just driving past it in his patrol. “So how’s she working out?”

  “Working out?” Miss Joan echoed. “Hell, because you brought her to me, I can rest easy because I found Eduardo’s replacement.”

  “Do not be so fast to resting and replacing me,” Eduardo called out of the kitchen.

  Momentarily forgetting about Gabe, Miss Joan turned her attention to Eduardo, the man she had singularly relied on all these years.

  “Why?” she asked. “You told me you were retiring, Eduardo, remember? All that fishing you wanted to do.”

  Eduardo made a dismissive noise. “The fish are not going anywhere—and neither am I yet, old woman,” he informed her. “I have much to teach this young woman before I go.”

  Miss Joan snorted. “Seems to me, it’s the other way around, Eduardo. I don’t remember ever seeing anything come out of your kitchen that looked half as good as what that little girl whipped up time after time today. All out of her head, all beautiful to look at.”

  Just like Angel, Gabe caught himself thinking.

  “Then perhaps it is time you went to Pine Ridge hospital and had those failing eyes of your checked out,” Eduardo forcefully “suggested.”

  “I see everything just fine,” Miss Joan answered with finality. “Including just what’s going on. Can’t pull the wool over my eyes, Eduardo, so stop trying.”

  Only Gabe saw the grin on the finely lined face. Miss Joan winked broadly at him as she continued hassling the cook she couldn’t do without.

  She lowered her voice so that this part of the conversation was strictly between her and Gabe. “Angel’s welcome to work here for as long as she wants,” she told him.

  Nodding, Gabe said, “Thanks,” and then, satisfied that Angel was all right, he took his leave again.

  “No,” Miss Joan called after him. “Thank you,” she countered with emphasis.

  He merely grinned just before walking out.

  * * *

  GABE RETURNED TO the diner when his shift was over. He was there to pick up Angel, assuming that her shift ended around the same time his did. He’d never paid attention to the comings and goings of the diner’s staff. All he knew was that Miss Joan and Eduardo, her sparring partner, opened together and closed together.

  He was fairly confident that Miss Joan would cut Angel some slack, especially since this was Angel’s first day on the job.

  On his way over to the diner, he stopped to make a pickup just prior to pulling up in front of the silver eatery. At the last minute, he decided to leave what he’d picked up on the passenger’s side in the truck for the time being.

  No point in letting everyone else in Forever see and have a reason to rag on him.

  Walking into the diner, he found the place to be fuller than the hour customarily warranted. But since Miss Joan’s diner was considered an unofficial gathering place for friends out to kill time and couples who wanted somewhere to sit and gaze into each other’s eyes, Gabe just thought some meeting or other had been declared.

  It wasn’t until he was almost at the counter—and paying closer attention—that he realized that if there was a club meeting, the club centered around Angel and its members were comprised of all men.

  There had to be at least ten seated or standing around her now, either vying for her attention or just absorbing her presence.

  Miss Joan was the first to see him approaching. Like a regal queen, she beckoned him over to her.

  As it turned out, the counter was far less crowded on her end than it was where Angel was seated. The young woman’s back was to him.

  “Business hasn’t been this good since…well, I don’t remember when,” Miss Joan confessed openly. “That girl of yours turned out to be a gold mine—not to mention a treasure.”

  Gabe was about to protest—again—that Angel was not his girl, but as he opened his mouth, he was somewhat less inclined to make the disclaimer in light of the group of men all focused on Angel.

  Watching even for a second, Gabe felt something exceedingly territorial stirring within him. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling that way and he wasn’t quite sure how to shake off the feeling—or if he even wanted to.

  So all he said was, “Glad it’s working out for everyone,” and left it at that.

  At the sound of his voice, Angel immediately turned around. The smile that rose to her lips was nothing short of beatific.

  “Gabe,” she called out. Delight and relief—and perhaps something more—echoed in her voice. The next second, she was getting off the counter stool she’d been perched on and making her way over to him.

  Gabe found himself not just captivated by the look in her brilliant blue eyes but almost falling into their fathomless depths, as well.

  He was going to need to watch himself. Otherwise, things that he didn’t want to happen just might do exactly that.

  Happen.

  “I hear you did really well today,” he told her as Angel approached. He looked around at the men surrounding her. They appeared to be closing ranks around Angel again despite the limited amount of space.

  “Let her breathe, guys,” he said to the men, his voice sounding authoritative and official. “The lady can’t move with you crowding her like that.”

  “Looks to me like she’s moving just fine,” one of the ranch hands from the McIntyre ranch piped up in response. The expression on his face showed all the signs that he was completely smitten.

  “Your opinion doesn’t count here, Wylie,” Gabe informed the man. “Now I’m not telling you again. Let the lady through.” This time there wasn’t even a hint of humor to be found in his voice.

  After a tense moment or two, Wylie raised his hands in surrender and stepped back. “Don’t want no trouble.”

  “Glad to hear that,” Gabe said, taking hold of Angel’s arm and leading her to the door.

  “See you tomorrow, Angel,” Miss Joan called out after her.

  Angel glanced over her shoulder. Her smile very nearly went from ear to ear as she repeated the sentiment to Miss Joan. Then she looked at the man at her side as he held the door open for her. “That’s all right with you, right?”

  He liked that she asked, even though she didn’t have to. “You’re your own person, Angel. I can’t tell you what to do, but yes, for the record, that’s fine with me. Miss Joan told me you did really well today.”

  Happiness seemed to emanate from her every pore. “It just seemed so right to me, to be doing what I was doing,” she told him with enthusiasm.

  He opened the passenger’s side door for her and she was about to slide onto the seat when she stopped and looked up at him quizzically. “What’s this?”

  “Flowers,” he answered matter-of-factly.

  Holding the bouquet as if it was something fragile and precious, she slid into the passenger seat. “I know they’re flowers, but why are they in your truck?”

  Gabe got in on his side. Putting the key into the ignition, he left it idle for a moment as he turned toward her.

  “Because I thought that maybe you’d like something to commemorate your first day at work.” He shrugged, feeling oddly awkward about what he’d done on a whim. “Seemed like a good idea at the time,” he murmured.

  Angel inhaled deeply, the scent of roses both soothing and arousing her at the same time.

  “It’s a lovely idea,” she told him.

  Impulsively, she leaned over the stick shift and brushed her lips against Gabe’s cheek.

  Or would have had he not picked that moment to turn his head to look at her.

  A cheek was replaced by a pair of lips. And what had been begun as the most innocent displays of gratitude escalated into something far more electrifying as her lips touched his.

  Once.

  Twice.<
br />
  And then again a third time, each pass becoming just a little more forceful, a little more arousing than the last, until the bouquet fell from her fingers into her lap. Without thinking, Angel slipped her hands around the back of his neck.

  Arms enfolded her, then Gabe pulled her closer to him and, just like that, completely lost his way.

  Chapter Ten

  She could feel her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Angel was swept away by the sheer power of the emotion that had, without any warning, been unleashed full blown, within her.

  All sorts of delicious sensations—new and yet not—raced through her, taking away her breath and making her pulse pound even more rapidly. She could feel her body reacting, could feel heat surging through her. Something vague, just out of reach, was trying—and failing—to break through.

  It made her want.

  It made her afraid.

  Damn it, he had better control than this, a far-off voice in Gabe’s head upbraided him. It wasn’t as if Angel actually knew what was going on, or was making a conscious choice between refraining and giving in to a sudden impulse.

  Hell, she might not even know what this impulse was at this point. Who could actually say—including her—what Angel knew and didn’t know? Which meant that what he was doing right now was tantamount to plain taking advantage of her.

  He should just pull back.

  He should just stop…

  But, oh, God, she was doing such things to his insides, reminding him what it felt like to be alive.

  After Erica had ripped him to shreds, running over his soul with the equivalent of emotional cleats, Gabe had been fairly certain that he wasn’t capable of reacting to another woman to any satisfactory degree. Not anymore. He’d even begun to make his peace with that. The way he saw it, he needed time to heal.

  And if he didn’t completely heal, if he remained on emotional lockdown, well, that was all right, too. The pain he’d gone through after the breakup was too huge to risk feeling again, anyway.

  Which made what he was experiencing right now come as one hell of a shock to his system.

  If they had been anywhere but in the front seat of his truck, front and center right before Miss Joan’s diner…

  But luckily for Angel—and maybe for him, too—they were front and center right before Miss Joan’s diner, where any second someone could walk by, coming or going, and see them. He was not about to compromise Angel because his hormones had come back online or, for that matter, do anything that might reflect badly on the office of the county sheriff.

  So, with a great deal of reluctance, Gabe took hold of Angel’s shoulders and as gently as possible pushed her back, severing their almost-perfect physical connection.

  Her breathing still a bit ragged, Angel looked up at him. The outline of her lips were blurred from the impact of his, and there was utter confusion in her blue eyes.

  “Did I do something wrong?” she asked in a barely audible whisper.

  “No. Oh, God, no,” he added with emphasis, his voice growing in strength and feeling with each word. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything quite so right in my whole life.”

  That brief, sizzling connection had sent everything soaring to record heights within him. It would be a while before it all settled down back into place. He tried to resist pulling her into his arms again.

  Now she really didn’t understand. “Then why did you stop?”

  How did he begin to explain this? How did he tell her why he was obligated to stop something that his entire body was begging him to continue?

  He took the easy way out. “We’re in a very public place,” he said.

  As if to underscore his point, several people came out of the diner, passing his truck and absently looking in. They nodded as they made eye contact with Gabe.

  “And you’re ashamed to be seen with me?” Angel guessed. Otherwise, why had he all but pushed her away like that?

  “No! Why would you even think that?” he asked, stunned she would suggest something like that. “I just don’t want to compromise you.”

  How was making her feel warm and wanted possibly be compromising her? “I don’t understand,” she told him honestly.

  Gabe started up the truck, still waiting for his own breathing to level off. He took his time answering her, hoping the words would fall into place. As he spoke, he deliberately avoided looking at her.

  “You’re vulnerable right now and vulnerable people do things that they wind up regretting later on.” It sounded so stilted to his ears, but Gabe doubted he could explain it to her any better than that. Wanting her was interfering with his thought process.

  She took a stab at making sense out of what Gabe was telling her. “You think I was kissing you for the wrong reasons.”

  It wasn’t her kissing him that had him worried. It was where his kissing her was going to lead. But he wasn’t really all that comfortable explaining the finer points of sexual attraction to her at this point.

  So, for now, he took the way out she’d unknowingly offered. “Something like that.”

  “I wasn’t,” she insisted quietly. She wanted him to be clear on this. “I was kissing you for all the right ones. Because I’m grateful to you and because you make all these colors explode in my head.” A soft smile on her lips, Angel looked at him, curiosity negating any residue embarrassment that she assumed she was supposed to be feeling—but wasn’t. “Is this the way people feel when they’re…attracted to someone?” she finally concluded.

  She’d wanted to say “falling in love with someone” but she had a feeling saying that would make Gabe really back away from her. She didn’t want that to happen, at least not before she had a chance to explore this delicious sensation that was all but taking root within her.

  “That’s part of it,” Gabe allowed. Slanting a glance in her direction, he lowered his guard. As he did so, Gabe could feel himself beginning to smile. “Colors exploding, huh?”

  “A whole rainbow’s worth,” she told him. “How about you?” she asked, her eyes on his face. “Seeing any colors?”

  “No, no colors,” he answered.

  “Oh.”

  The lone word sounded incredibly sad as well as very isolated, he thought. For a second, he was tempted to come clean and tell her exactly what he really was feeling, but then decided against it. It would be better for her all around if she didn’t know just how much she was affecting him.

  He deliberately changed the subject. “So tell me about your day,” he coaxed.

  It took a beat, but then he saw Angel’s face light up as she started to fill him in on how she’d fared in Miss Joan’s kitchen with Eduardo.

  When she finished, he was impressed and completely convinced that in all likelihood Angel could probably get along with the devil himself if need be. And if her narrative was any example, she would probably be able to find some kind of redeeming qualities about the fallen angel and list them in glowing terms.

  She was, at this point, truly one of a kind. He wondered if that would change once her memory returned. He almost didn’t want to find out.

  * * *

  “CHRISTMAS?” ANGEL repeated.

  It was a little more than a week later—a week filled with a measure of self-restraint Gabe never thought he was capable of displaying—and he set the groundwork to tell her about the town’s biggest holiday tradition.

  “Christmas,” he acknowledged, then suddenly paused as a thought hit him. Though he was beginning to piece a few things together, he still wasn’t clear on the extent of what she knew and didn’t know. “You do know what that is, right?”

  She smiled tolerantly at him. “Yes, I know what Christmas is. My brain is missing some very crucial information, but it wasn’t completely sucked dry or flattened to a pancake by the accident. I do remember some things.”

  Just not who I am. Although there had been dreams, dreams that vanished when she opened her eyes, but that brought with them a vague feeling of familiarity w
hile they lasted.

  “Just checking,” he told her with a grin. “Anyway, everyone is getting together in the town square this afternoon to watch the annual Christmas tree being put up. It’s being brought in sometime this morning—”

  “From where?” she wanted to know.

  “There’s this forest north of here. We’ve been getting the town’s tree from there for as long as I can remember. Anyway—”

  She wasn’t finished asking questions. “Who gets to pick the tree?”

  Another question that had never occurred to him to ask. He’d just took what he’d observed as a given. “Miss Joan usually goes along with whoever winds up bringing the tree back, so I guess, knowing Miss Joan, she does.”

  She nodded, accepting his explanation. “Could we go along, too?” She asked the question with all the eagerness of a child.

  That would have been a case of too many cooks spoiling whatever it was that cooks conferred over, he thought, unable to remember the last of the old saying.

  “We have work to do,” he reminded her gently. It struck him how very domestic that line sounded to his ear. Like what a husband—or wife—might say to their spouse.

  The thought did not spook him the way it might have once. As a matter of fact, this past week with Angel had played like a scene right out of that same fantasy, he couldn’t help thinking. They went off to work together in the morning and he dropped her off at Miss Joan’s diner, then stopped by there for lunch. And after his shift was over, he picked her up and they’d go home together.

  To his house, not their house, Gabe emphasized pointedly. He had to remember to keep that in perspective. Once her memory returned—and more and more of him was beginning to really hope that either it wouldn’t, or that that day was really far in the future—she, whoever she was, would leave and go back to her life.

  And he would go back to the emptiness of his.

  Empty in comparison to the way it was now, he deliberately specified for himself. Because right now, his life was filled with her chatter, her spontaneous laughter and her incredible cooking. Not to mention her warmth.

  And because of that, Gabe was finding it harder and harder to restrain himself. Restraining himself when what he desperately wanted to do was sweep her into his arms and revisit the pulse-accelerating experience of kissing her.