Pleasures of Christmas Past (A Christmas Carol Book 1)

by Lexi Post

  Cam brushed his hair from his forehead, a sure sign he was out of his element, whatever that element was. “I need your help, Holly.”

  She shook her head, still trying to believe she spoke to her dead husband, emphasis on dead. “I’m dreaming.” She pinched herself. “Ow.”

  “No, you’re not. I know this is a shock.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

  He grinned. “Ach, but a pleasant one, I hope.”

  She relaxed a little at his smile. It was so him. “How come I can see you? You’re supposed to be dead.”

  He grimaced. “I am. I’m sorry. I was stupid. We should have had our whole lives to grow old together.”

  “You’ve got that right. But how can you be here? You look like you did when you were alive except…” Her fall into the Christmas tree had her pausing. “Except you aren’t solid. It’s not fair, you look solid and you smell so good.” Her eyes started to water again.

  “Ah, please don’t cry, hen. I only came because I thought you might be strong enough to handle it. If I’m just making you cry, I’ll leave.”

  Fear raced from her brain to every tiny blood vessel. “No! No, I’m okay. I cry whether you’re here or not and I’d much rather be able to see you.” She tried to smile, but her lips barely moved upward.

  “That’s my girl. I knew I could count on you.”

  She uncrossed her arms and wiped her face on the sleeve of her sweater. Just then Mac jumped down from the chair and started to rub against Cam’s legs for attention. “Hey, how come he can touch you?”

  Cam’s eyes widened before his grin returned. “I have no idea.” He bent and gave the demanding feline a scratch behind his ears, starting the purr machine up full blast.

  She rolled her eyes. “Really?”

  He straightened and shrugged. “I’ll have to figure that out later. I’ve come to ask for your help with a spirit who kind of works for me.”

  She raised her eyebrow again. “Works for you? I thought heaven was all pleasure and no work.”

  Cam looked away. “It’s complicated. Suffice it to say, I’m trying to help other spirits right now and this one is a sad case.”

  She folded her arms across her chest again, trying to pretend she wasn’t talking to Cam’s spirit. “Why?”

  He floated to the fireplace, reminding her of his spirit state and completely ruining her self-imposed pretend session that he was real.

  “She has many deep regrets.”

  Well, she could certainly relate to that. There had been so many things she and Cam had planned to do but put off because they were trying to make the shop a success or because they wanted to be in a financially good spot first, like having a baby. Her eyes started to water again.

  “Holly? Are you sure you don’t want me to leave?” He’d floated closer to her. So close, she could see the different colors in his hazel eyes.

  She couldn’t resist and lifted her hand to touch his face. As her fingers glided through air, his eyes revealed his own anguish.

  “I miss you, love.”

  She gazed at him, her throat closing off any possibility of speech.

  He finally looked away. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” He turned back to the fireplace, tension in his frame revealing as much as his eyes. He was in pain too.

  Knowing he hurt as much from their separation as she did eased her heart in a strange way, but it also confirmed for her that she’d still do anything for him. Desperate to help, she moved to stand next to him. “What can I do?”

  He looked down at her and the depth of self-loathing she caught in his eyes stilled her heart, but it was gone so fast, she wasn’t sure she’d really seen it.

  “You have the biggest heart, lass.”

  She smiled a real smile this time. “You always said that, but if you’d seen the way I treated Sofia Dunlap last week, you might reconsider my aid.”

  He turned toward her and grinned. “I know you could never really do anything hateful, which is why I thought of you in regards to Jessica.”

  Holly stiffened. “Wait a minute. You said she is a female spirit. I’m not sure I like that.”

  “Ach, don’t worry. She’ll have her mentor with her, Duncan Montgomerie. Whether he appears to you or not is his choice. But Jessica is the one I’m most concerned with.”

  Relieved Jessica had a man watching her, Holly relaxed despite how off-the-wall her flash of jealousy toward a ghost was. “You said she has strong regrets?”

  “Yes.” Cameron seemed to notice the room for the first time. He stopped in front of a rocking horse that rocked nonstop from a tree branch. “This is new.”

  She nodded though she stood behind him. She’d added a number of decorations. Probably compensating for Cam’s absence.

  He continued his walk around the tree. When he came back to her, his admiration shone in his eyes. “It’s beautiful, Holly.”

  She flushed. Too happy he was pleased. “I didn’t want to forget what we had.”

  He scowled. “Don’t.” His face lightened. “You won’t. What we had was stronger than death.”

  She opened her mouth to respond but the grandfather clock in the middle of the room started to strike ten.

  “Love, I lost track of the time. I have to go.”

  “No.” She didn’t want him to leave, perfectly happy if he wanted to haunt her for the rest of her days. “What about Jessica?”

  He started to fade. “She’ll be here at eleven. Just go along with her. She thinks she’s helping you, so don’t tell her what I told you.”

  “Cam, wait. Will I see you again?”

  His form was almost completely gone, but he moved his head. It looked like he nodded, but she wasn’t sure. Maybe she could ask this Jessica.

  Holy crap, she’d just agreed to be visited by a strange ghost! Her whole body started to shake. She had to sit down. Unfortunately, Mac was back on her chair, so she threw her hands up and plopped into Cam’s.

  His clove scent still permeated the recliner and she inhaled deeply. Her eyes flew open. Was it the chair or his ghost? Turning her head, she sniffed the soft brown cloth. Hmmm, it was the chair. She hadn’t sat in it since the day after he died, his scent so strong it had sent her into a faint. Now, she found it comforting. That and knowing he was near. He still existed in some form.

  Maybe if she was very good at whatever he needed her to do, she could keep helping him. Then she could see him all the time. Now that was something she could look forward to.

  * * * * *

  Jessica floated into her little cottage on the water. It was the same one she’d had in Maine, but nicer because she had no bills to pay, no chores to attend to, and no traffic to deal with. That’s what she loved about the afterlife. It was all the best of being alive. She still looked the same, thought the same, even breathed and had a heartbeat, at least that’s how it felt, but she had none of the irritations. She couldn’t even get sick.

  Then again, she now had a rather large irritation in the form of Duncan Montgomerie. Usually, after her Spirit Guide training sessions, she enjoyed sitting on the front porch watching the water lap at the rocky shoreline, the temperatures a perfect summer day, but right now all she wanted was her couch and a bowl of ice cream.

  She stalked into her bedroom, phased to solid, and changed into a pair of jean shorts and a tank top, then hung her suit on the door. That Cameron Douglas had refused her request for a new mentor had rankled. He was so confident in Duncan’s abilities, that talking to Cameron was like talking to a wall of granite. He acted like he had little time for her but there was no such thing as time in the afterlife.

  There was no way she would ask Duncan for more information on Holly. He just plain pissed her off. She was determined to ace this case, despite Mr. Distraction’s know-it-all attitude. She needed to learn as much as she could, more than Duncan anyway, to do that.

  After a long walk along the coast, she’d finally gathered her courage and bopped into th
e cute little house next to the Christmas shop on the main street of Deervale. She’d witnessed Holly meeting Cameron’s spirit for the first time. It was so heartbreaking she couldn’t stay. Holly’s fall into her beautiful Christmas tree and then the look in Cameron’s eyes when his wife started to cry had just been too much. Besides, it was a private moment that she had no right to witness.

  Pushing her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose, she walked to the refrigerator and pulled out her favorite ice cream from the freezer, pistachio. Forgoing a bowl, she grabbed a spoon then snuggled into the corner of her couch with the carton.

  From what she could tell, there was no such thing as calories in the afterlife. Thankful she’d finally mastered the art of solidifying and phasing at will so she could enjoy her earthly pleasure, she took a bite of the sweet, cold dessert. As the nutty flavor washed over her tongue, she closed her eyes in sheer bliss. Now this was heaven. Opening her eyes to take another bite, she froze. “What are you doing here?”

  Duncan floated on the arm at the other end of her couch, looking absolutely delicious in his jeans, t-shirt and socks. Socks?

  “This is when your private lessons start.” The sexy grin he gave her had her swallowing hard as excitement skittered across her skin and into her groin.

  Shit. The man was a walking tease. Make that a floating tease. She wanted Mr. Knows-It-All back. He was easier to deal with. Not sure what to say, she dipped her spoon in the carton and took another bite as her mind raced. What kind of lessons? From his look, her bedroom would be the proper place for them.

  “What are you eating?” He leaned forward and squinted at the carton.

  She swallowed and tried for a professional air. “Pistachio ice cream.”

  “I dinna think I’ve ever tried that flavor.” His body phased to solid and he plucked the carton from her hand.

  “Hey! The least you can do is ask.”

  He shrugged as he dipped his finger into the green ice cream. “You’d just tell me I could have some, so why bother?” He lifted his finger and stuck the ice cream in his mouth. “Hmmm, this is good. No wonder it’s your favorite.” His grin could have talked a Sunday school teacher into stripping.

  She stared, her body revving at the sight of him dipping his finger in again while her brain caught up to his words. “How do you know it’s my favorite?”

  He winked. “I know everything about you.”

  She flushed as her body heated. Crap, this man was a flirt if she’d ever seen one and his lilting accent didn’t help. She reached across the couch and grabbed the ice cream out of his hand. “If you don’t mind, I was enjoying that.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, touchy.”

  Why did she now feel like a bitch? She wasn’t like this usually. Mr. Distraction had her off balance and she didn’t like it.

  If only Cameron could have given her a different mentor. Duncan Montgomerie would ruin her concentration and make fun of any mistake she might make. Her definition of “mentor” was not that. “I’m assuming you came here for a reason? I mean, besides the beautiful view.” She pointed toward the windows with her spoon.

  He glanced that way before letting his gaze roam from the tops of her bare feet, over her legs, past her shorts to the stretchy fabric of her white tank-covered chest. She held her breath, waiting for his eyes to meet hers, but they stayed riveted on her breasts. Thankful she’d left her bra on so he couldn’t see how hard her nipples had turned at his perusal, she moved the ice cream to block his view and took another bite to cool down.

  He smirked at her move. “As I said, it’s time for your private lessons. I thought you’d be more comfortable here than at my castle.”

  She stilled at his comment. “You live in a castle?”

  “Of course. It’s where I lived before my death. That is one of the elements of the afterlife that you need to know. How we look, where we live. Our knowledge is frozen in the state we were in when we died.”

  That made sense to her. “Do you know how I died? I can’t recall.”

  He shook his head. “No and you won’t. I dinna know how I died either. That is the one change in our appearance. There is no evidence of how our lives ended. Or memory either. For all I know, I was shot in the heart in a duel.”

  A duel? “Is that a possibility? Were you caught sleeping with some man’s wife?”

  Duncan burst into laughter. “No, I never slept with a married lady, but a father or older brother of some lovely who pretended to be pure to her family could very well have cried foul.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

  Jessica frowned. Her curiosity about her own death was a little stronger than Duncan’s. She didn’t even remember what she’d been doing when she died. She hadn’t been in poor health so it must have been an accident or something. At age thirty-three, she thought of herself as in her prime.

  She looked down at the ice cream melting in the cartoon and scooped out one more spoonful before she rose and walked to the freezer to put it away. She sent a mental request for another two pints of Pistachio and a carton of Cherry Vanilla. Then she dropped the spoon in the sink, well aware it would be clean and in the drawer when she went to use it again. The afterlife was pretty sweet. Her wishes were granted as she requested them. She just wished she’d lived her life to the fullest first. She’d even put off her own wedding for two years. What woman did that?

  “You’re still frowning, lass.”

  She spun at the sound of Duncan’s voice in her right ear. He’d stood right behind her. She pressed her back against the counter to add a couple inches between them.

  He grasped the counter on either side of her, his Christmassy scent filling her nose. It was so strong when he wasn’t phased.

  “I like you solid. I can smell…” He inhaled, his large chest expanding, filling the airspace between them and brushing against her breasts. “Cranberry.”

  “You can’t smell that.” He couldn’t, could he? It was the local soap she used, handmade by an older woman in the small town she had lived in.

  He looked down at her, his lips slightly curved as usual. “Aye, I can, lass. And it smells tart yet sweet. Edible.”

  She pushed against his chest to step away, but he didn’t budge. “Do you mind?”

  His grin grew. “Actually, I do. There’s something we need to discuss before we start your assignment.”

  She arched her brow. “Really? And we have to do it right here in my kitchen?”

  He lowered his head, bringing his light beard closer, his lips closer. “Aye, because it has to do with the blush in your cheeks, the heat radiating from your body, and the shorter breaths ye be taking that push your delectable breasts into my chest.”

  Her heart went into double time at his heavier accented words while her brain ceased to function as her gaze riveted on his mouth. He would kiss her. Her body primed for contact and her mouth opened, ready.

  Guilt niggled at the back of her brain when his lips brushed against hers. Even as her body strained toward him, her mind told her this was wrong. Reacting to that signal, she phased. His arms, as she passed through, caused tiny tingles to erupt across her breasts.

  He turned to face her. “You dinna play fair, Jessica.”

  She took a deep breath to gather her thoughts. “I’m not playing at all. But you are. Why the full come-on all of a sudden? When I saw you last, you were treating me like a little girl who needed her hand held.”

  His smile faltered. “I realized my mistake when I saw you in those revealing clothes. You are obviously very much a woman.”

  “No kidding. And this woman is engaged. I mean, I was, I mean…” She shut her mouth at how stupid she must sound. It was such a habit to be faithful to her fiancé.

  Being dead was new for her. One of her biggest regrets was not having married Jacob. She’d finally started planning the wedding after being engaged for two years. Her stomach knotted. It was her fault they never became man and wife.

  Duncan smil
ed sympathetically, for once not in amusement. “I know you were.”

  She could handle Duncan “the flirt,” but this “real” Duncan was too much. “I still consider myself engaged, so you’ll have to excuse me if I can’t shut my feelings off so quickly.” She floated back to the living room to stare out the window, letting the rhythm of the water calm her frazzled nerves.

  She’d been in the afterlife awhile, though how long she couldn’t be sure. It seemed like a few years. She should have come to terms with it by now, but obviously she hadn’t, at least not completely.

  Duncan made himself at home on her couch, distracting her as his solid persona reflected in the window. It seemed rude to stay phased, so she solidified again and turned to face him. Maybe she should focus on their case instead of herself. She was good at that. “Should we talk about Holly?”

  He cocked his head. “Holly?”

  “Yes, Holly.” At his blank expression, she shook her head as she looked toward the ceiling, searching for the patience she usually used with clients. “Holly Douglas, our supervisor’s wife?”

  “Oh, that Holly. She is no’ my wife, so I have no reason to keep track of her first name. She’s Mrs. Douglas to me.”

  “Fine. Should we talk about Mrs. Douglas?” She moved to a comfortable chair with an ottoman she had positioned directly across from the couch. “What strategy are we going to use? Are the times in her life we visit predetermined or do we get to choose? I had some thoughts on that as I think picking the rights ones—”

  “Stop. You’re making my head spin.” Duncan’s smile had turned into a grimace. “I’ve already chosen the times in Mrs. Douglas’ life that we will visit with her, after receiving Cameron’s guidance.”

  “What? When did you do that? Why wasn’t I involved? Isn’t this my case?”

  Duncan’s eyes widened, his surprise at her outburst causing her blood to boil all the more.

  “I’m your mentor so it was my responsibility. When you are experienced enough to work alone, then you will confer with Cameron.”