Enchanting Christmas (Impossible Dream, Book 2)

by Beth Ciotta

“At least one of you acted rationally,” she said while rubbing warmth into her arms. “Talk about an insane commute. Your job is in Denver.”

  “My heart is here.”

  “Stop saying things like that. It’s so…”

  “What?”

  “Romeo.” She frowned. “I can’t believe we actually referred to one another as Romeo and Juliet for an entire week. It was—”

  “Romantic?”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “It was your idea. Speaking of names,” he said while searching the cabinets. “So your full name is Christmas? Christmas Joy Mooney?”

  “My mom couldn’t help herself.”

  He raised a quizzical brow while setting two mugs on the counter.

  “I was born on December twenty-fifth.”

  “Ah.” Mason smiled. “It’s beautiful.” Like you. “But you prefer Chrissy?”

  “I’m not comfortable with Christmas.”

  “The name or the holiday?”

  “Both.” She moved to the stove, removing the whistling kettle from the burner as he rooted tea bags from the sack of groceries he’d purchased at the local store. “Let’s get back to your job in Denver,” she said while pouring water.

  “I quit.”

  “What?”

  “My dad insists on calling it a seasonal sabbatical. He thinks I’m having a life crisis. Says I’ll realize where I belong once I calm down.” He shot the woman at his side a meaningful look. “Could be the only time I’ve ever wholly agreed with the old man.”

  “Are you nuts?” She turned her back, clanged the kettle to the stove then spun back around. “I told you about the letter. About the threat. What if your dad blames me for you jumping ship? What if he lashes out at my family?”

  “He won’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he’d only alienate me more. I made that clear. If nothing, he’ll keep the peace for my mother’s sake. The holidays…they’re hard enough.”

  “I don’t believe this.” She hugged herself and shivered.

  Because she was cold?

  Or because he was too intense?

  She had no idea how much he was holding back. The blowout with his dad had left him raw. That on top of adjusting to the news that he had a daughter, plus realizing he was still crazy about Chrissy. Yeah. He was wired and edgy. Impatient and maybe a little irrational. “It’s drafty in here. Let’s have our tea in the living room.”

  She glanced at her watch.

  “I know. You have a date with your family. That’s why I’m going to step things up.”

  Since Angel had given him the nickel tour, Mason navigated the house with relative ease. The living room was one of his favorite rooms. Spacious, yet cozy. Dark wood and a cobblestone hearth. A huge bay window with a view of the surrounding fields and a distant butte. A red leather sofa and matching club chair. He’d already scoped out a wall for a mounted plasma HDTV and a corner for the biggest Christmas tree he could buy.

  Remembering the way Melody had been entranced by the decorated showpiece at the performance center, he made a mental note to purchase an abundance of twinkling lights and sparkly ornaments—as well as a collection of closed-captioned movies. Even if she couldn’t read the words just now, she’d be able to read them later. It was all about planting seeds with kids, right? For now it was festive background for decking the halls. Just thinking about helping his daughter decorate the tree while watching holiday favorites turned Mason’s insides to mush.

  “I’m not one for sharing my darker thoughts,” he said while settling next to Chrissy on the buttery leather sofa. “But I want you to understand my motivation.”

  “I’m listening,” she said, even though she looked like she wanted to bolt.

  Mason soothed his tight throat with a sip of tea then set aside the mug. “Back in Denver you accused me of being cagey about my background during our time together. You assumed it was because I was playing you. Thing is, I’m the one who’s used to being played. Women who know who I am are usually more interested in the family fortune than in me.”

  “If I’d known who you were, about your fortune, I would have run the other way.”

  “Then I’m especially glad you were in the dark. That week with you was the highlight of my life.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I know you do. That’s why I’m cutting open an emotional vein.”

  “I—”

  “Let me get this out.” Mason braced his forearms on his knees, clasped his hands together and bled. “Where my family’s concerned, I’ve always felt like an alien. I don’t take after my mother or father and I’m…” He faltered, unhinged as always when he thought of Jimmy. “I was the opposite of my brother. More than once I wondered if I was adopted. I even asked.”

  Chrissy’s brows rose.

  “I wasn’t. Luckily, my parents didn’t give me too much guff for doing my own thing. They tolerated my rebellious years, as my mother calls them. I didn’t want to sell audio equipment to rock venues. I wanted to play those venues. Little compares to the adrenaline rush of performing live on a stage. Connecting with the music, the audience.”

  Chrissy glanced away and Mason flashed back on those jam sessions at the Oakley Festival. Remembering how she’d dazzled listeners with her inspired solos. “Not that I’m telling you anything you don’t know,” he continued, wondering at her pained expression. “Anyway, I managed to live that dream for a couple of years with little interference from my parents. Until they lost Jimmy. My older, and only, sibling. Then they turned all their attention to the second son.”

  “I remember reading about the accident,” Chrissy said, her expression softening. “It happened—”

  “The day after you and I split off.”

  “At the time I didn’t know you were related. That you were a Rivers. Were you and your brother close?”

  “Yeah.” Mason ignored the ache in his chest. “Losing him sucked. And the way he died…” Mason shook off the memory of his brother’s mangled body. “It was devastating. I wasn’t thinking clearly when I returned to the Rivers fold. Chasing after you got stuffed to the recesses of my mind along with any thoughts of my own happiness. I wanted to ease my parents’ suffering. I wanted to honor my brother by keeping his dream alive.”

  “Which involved working for your dad.”

  “Maintaining and building the success of RAVI.” Mason dropped his head, cursing the day he’d sold out. “I tricked myself into believing this was my chance to finally bond with my parents and I spent five years perpetuating that notion. Last spring, I hit the wall. How could I bond with two people I didn’t even like? If I were to salvage any sense of family, I knew I had to distance myself. I stepped down from my corporate position and moved to Denver to work as an audio analyst and engineer. Scoping out clubs, testing gear, initiating deals.” He met her gaze. “What did you think of the sound system at the performance center?”

  Chrissy blinked.

  “Designed and installed by RAVI. Everyone who mattered seemed pleased. Hence those two third-row tickets. Just one of the perks of the job.”

  “Oh. I thought maybe… Never mind.”

  Mason frowned. “What?”

  “No. It’s silly. Go on.” Holding the mug between both hands, she drank tea and relaxed into the puffy accent pillows.

  Progress? Mason took heart and pushed on. “I was restless in Denver. I’ve been restless for years. You crossed my mind more than once, trust me. You were so set in your goal and so crazy talented, I assumed you were touring with a company or committed to a metropolitan orchestra. Probably swept off your feet by some other lucky SOB. Since I never heard from you, I chalked up our time together as a wonderful, but ill-timed affair.”

  He took a breath, fought to slow his thoughts. “I seriously thought we were history, hon. That I’d blown my chance. After running into you in Denver… After the latest confrontation with my dad… I decided to quit working fo
r RAVI. I still have stock in the company. I’m still the heir, unless Dad changes his will. But I’m no longer an employee. I’m a free agent. Moving to Nowhere was a no brainer.”

  “But there’s nothing here.”

  “You’re here. Melody’s here.”

  “So you chuck your career—”

  “A career I didn’t want.”

  “Ditch your home in Denver—”

  “A rented condo. There’s nothing for me in Denver. Except my dog, Rush. You’re not allergic to dogs, are you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Melody?”

  “No. I—”

  “Good. Rush is going to love this place. Room to run. And he loves kids. He’ll be good with Melody. Might even be good for her. Have you ever heard of Hearing Dogs?” Mason sat straighter, his thoughts tumbling over one another as he scrambled to prove his sincerity. “Comparable to a Seeing Eye Dog, except they’re trained to alert their person of household sounds, things that help to ensure everyday safety and independence.”

  “I’ve read about them, yes.”

  “Rush isn’t trained, but if Melody feels comfortable with him, maybe that’s an avenue we could explore. I did a little research. Hearing Dogs are trained to respond to certain sounds. Honking horns, fire and smoke alarms, the telephone, oven timer, alarm clock, door knocks—”

  “I know. I’ve researched, too. I research all the time, Mason. Resources and products for the hearing impaired. Education and advancement in technology. Just because I’m a single parent, just because I’m limited financially, that doesn’t mean—”

  “I know you’re doing everything in your power to provide Melody with the best of care. I know that,” Mason said, “because the girl I fell in love with had a kind heart and fiery determination. I’m just sorry I wasn’t in the picture affording back up. I didn’t mean to offend. I’m trying to help and I’m five years behind the game so my freaking brain is racing to close the gap.”

  Frustrated and emotionally drained, Mason dragged his hands down his face. “Guilt’s a bitch. But it pales in comparison to gut-wrenching regret. I should have followed you back to school that day. I should have asked you to marry me. God knows, I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you.”

  Visibly shaken, Chrissy blew out a breath. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

  He held her gaze, reached over and grasped her hand. “Say you’ll give me a chance. Give us a chance. As in you, me, and Melody.”

  “And Rush?”

  He smiled a little. “Yeah. And Rush.”

  She looked down at their entwined fingers. “Melody’s going to love you.”

  “I hope so.”

  “That worries me. If this doesn’t work, if you decide to bolt, if your dad makes trouble… A hundred and one things could go wrong.”

  “All we need is for one thing to go right. Us.”

  She raised one brow. “’Tis the season for miracles?”

  “Taking a leap of faith never seemed more right.”

  “We provide the magic.” You provide the derring-do.

  He scrunched his brow.

  “Never mind.” She smoothed her thumb over the back of his hand. “How would you feel about meeting my parents?”

  Mason smiled.

  Chapter Seven

  Chrissy pressed closer to the frosted living room pane, hugging herself against a chill as she watched Mason shoveling drifts of snow. He’d insisted she stay inside while he attacked the worst of the mounting barricade. Between the blowing flurries and the darkening skies, she could barely make him out.

  He’d been at it for a good fifteen minutes. She had to confess she was impressed by his strength and stamina and dogged determination. She’d always considered him more of an artist than an outdoorsman. Apparently, he was both.

  The chivalry thing was hot, too.

  Everything about Mason Rivers—except for that hideous holiday scarf—was hot. She had to wonder about the women who cared more about the wallet than the man. Clearly they were shallow with a capital S.

  Chrissy was only a little shallow. She didn’t care about Mason’s wealth, but she was fascinated by his handsome face and smoking body.

  She was also over-the-moon charmed with the man. Knowing he’d considered chasing after her, even after she’d been adamant about breaking up, was a seductive thrill. The giddy out-of-body sensation was a clear indication of her besotted state. It wasn’t the same as “pure joy”, but it was damn close. So close that her mind flew to Impossible Dream.com.

  Her request: I want to find my happy. To feel pure joy. Not for a moment or a day, but forever.

  Their reply: We provide the magic. You provide the derring-do.

  Was Mason the magic?

  ID.com had supplied her with tickets to a sold-out concert. Tickets that had ultimately led her to Mason.

  What were the chances?

  By fate or design they’d been reunited, and now Mason was desperate to turn back time and fast forward all in one miracle-making swoop. Chrissy felt like the unwitting star of a Hallmark movie. Unfortunately, given her jaded temperament, ‘too good to be true’ kept drowning out thoughts of ‘lucky me’.

  “Take a freaking leap of faith already,” she mumbled to herself. “’Tis the season for miracles. Georgie said so. Bryce said so. And so says the majority of the population.”

  Even though Chrissy tended to keep her innermost conflicts to herself, she had a sudden and fierce urge to sort through her jumbled thoughts with a friend. Although she felt equally close to all of the Inseparables, in this instance she reached out to Sinjun. Given the fact that Chrissy was so private, confiding in their long-distance friend, someone she didn’t interact with on a daily basis, came easier. Plus Sinjun was weirdly intuitive and Chrissy was desperate for dead-on advice.

  As the phone rang, she paced the length of the picture window, drumming up body heat and working off adrenaline. When Sinjun answered, Chrissy almost whooped in relief. “Am I calling at a bad time?”

  “Just going through some files,” Sinjun said. “I could use the break. I’m glad you called. I know I texted before and I know we had that group video chat after you ran into Benedict Romeo, but I really am sorry about bailing on the Christmas birthday bash.”

  “We missed you,” Chrissy said honestly. “It’s been far too long since we’ve seen you in person, but of course we understood. Although I have to say your boss, whoever he is, is a real taskmaster. Do you ever get a break?”

  “What can I say? I’m good at what I do. So what’s up with you? I’m guessing this has to do with Mason?”

  Chrissy marveled at Sinjun’s ability to, once again, gloss over her exact “job”. Bella often mused that Sinjun worked for the government, some sort of covert position that necessitated complete secrecy. That seemed farfetched to Chrissy although there was definitely something wonky about the way Sinjun consistently diverted attention away from her own life.

  “Mason’s moving to Nowhere,” Chrissy said, cutting to the chase. “In fact, I’m with him now. Actually, he’s outside shoveling snow. And I’m in here going slightly bonkers.”

  “Where’s here?”

  “Angel’s house. Her old house. The one she shared with Baxter. Mason wants to buy it, only Angel balked, so he settled for renting. He has to go back to Denver at some point to pack up his belongings and his dog, but it’s a done deal, Sinjun. He quit his job. Took a stand with his dad. He wants to pick up where we left off. He wants me. He wants Melody. He wants…a family.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want…magic. I want to reconnect with the old me. The me that sparkled. I didn’t tell you this before,” Chrissy said while wearing a path in the carpet, “but Mel wrote a note to Santa. Instead of asking for a toy, she asked if his elves could make me happy.”

  “That’s intense.”

  “Tell me about it. I reacted a little out of the norm by writing a letter of my own. Sort of. Remember that int
ernet site that Bella applied to a few months back? The site that matched her up with Savage? In a moment of madness, I applied for my own impossible dream. I applied for “happy”. Can you believe it?”

  “Well, I—”

  “A few days later I got an email from datawiz at impossible-dream-dot-com, relaying that same cryptic message they sent to Bella.”

  “Magic, derring-do, passion and patience?”

  “Exactly. Plus tickets to the Mile High Extravaganza.”

  “Which took place in Denver where you ran into Mason who you hadn’t seen or spoken to in five years. So, what? You think Impossible Dream set up your reunion?”

  “What if Mason is the key to my happiness?”

  “True happiness, pure joy,” Sinjun said in a soft voice, “comes from within.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  Chrissy nibbled her thumb nail as she faltered in her steps. She stared out the window, locking onto Mason’s shadowed form. Her heart pounded as she vocalized her thoughts. “Something happened to me in Denver, Sinjun, and it started with Mason. Yes, our reunion got off to a rough start, but clearing the air lightened my spirit. I experienced a twinge of full-blown happy after leaving him at the coffee shop. He not only shared his side of the story, I vented my pent-up outrage then took a stand. The relief was immense.

  “The second twinge of happy occurred when I returned to the performance center, when I traded places with Bella and settled in the seat next to Melody—third row, center stage. The concert was in full swing and Mel was fully engaged. Blue eyes wide with wonder and smiling ear-to-ear, she remained riveted for the next hour.

  “Sitting close to the stage intensified the splendor,” Chrissy went on as she relived the moment. “Mason had been right about the vibrations. They were pretty intense. And because Mel’s other senses compensate for the lack of hearing, she was probably even more sensitive to those vibrations than me. Something inspired Mel to dance in her seat and it wasn’t the melodic or lyrical aspects of the orchestra’s holiday repertoire.”

  “That must have been thrilling to see,” Sinjun interjected.