What he saw there made him falter. There, on his island, sat a cake pan with a note attached. Don’t you dare eat these yet, Grace.
Whatever they were, they smelled warm and sinful. More willing to see her again than ignore her warning, he turned and stepped toward the stairs. He was halfway up when a flickering light coming from a set of French doors caught his attention. He didn’t spend much time there, but he’d bought a sectional and an eighty-inch flat screen for Maggie and Collin whenever they came to visit.
He entered the dark and quiet room. The television was muted and the couch appeared empty until he peered over the back to find Grace huddled in the corner, her lashes fanning her cheeks, the navy blue afghan his mother had made tucked under her chin.
He remembered Rachel had once asked him if she looked like an angel when she slept. He’d been honest and said no, not even knowing what she’d meant by the question. Now, he knew. He dropped his hand to pull back a lock of Grace’s brown hair.
He shifted closer only to have the wooden floor creak and jar his sleeping beauty awake. A shaky hand flew to her heart and her gaze darted around, anxious and confused. “Who’s there?”
“Grace, it’s me,” he said, placing a reassuring palm on her left shoulder. “You must have fallen asleep watching”—he paused to make sure he was seeing the screen correctly—“the pregame show.”
He didn’t know many women who liked sports, and even less who were interested enough to watch it on TV. Every turn with Grace, he found another unexpected treasure.
She sighed and relaxed, pulling the blanket down around her waist, exposing her Seahawks jersey. He shook his head. “How the hell are you a Hawks fan?”
She dipped her chin to her chest before raising it back up again. “It’s a long story reserved for when we have absolutely nothing else to talk about.” She adjusted the blanket back over her arms.
“Are you cold?” he asked, knowing she wasn’t one to complain about anything.
“Oh no. This blanket is the warmest, most perfect thing I’ve ever had wrapped around me.”
He stared down at her unable to keep his mind from wandering or his thoughts quiet. “Certainly not the most perfect thing, Grace. I seem to remember doing a fairly good job of keeping you warm.”
She smirked at him. “But you weren’t here.”
Of course, he deserved that as an answer. “Look, I’m…I should have found a way to call you.” He stepped around to take a seat beside her. She smelled heavenly, her vanilla and sugar scent intoxicating.
She answered him with a quick shake of her head. “I never expected you to quit your job to help me, Ayden.” She then stood, drawing the blanket around her like a shawl.
Reluctant to let her go so soon, he reached out to grab her hand. He wanted to teach her to relax and trust him, but it was hard when everything they were doing was a damn show. Regardless, he kept his grip firm around her wrist. “I was wondering…would you like to go to the Christmas Tree-Lighting Ceremony? We don’t have much time, so we’ll have to hurry. They always like to start and finish before kickoff.”
With a slow lift to the corners of her pretty mouth, she finally agreed. “Yes.” He didn’t realize how much he wanted to hear that word.
With the truck well heated, they drove away in the direction of the main square where a permanent forty-two foot Christmas tree stood in all its grandeur. He glanced over at Grace, realizing for the first time how he’d insisted she’d wear as many layers as possible to keep warm. Now, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her cartoonish appearance: burnt orange toboggan hat two sizes two big, a thick aqua scarf covering her lips and nose, and enough garments under her coat so she had to twist her entire body to look at him.
“I look silly, don’t I?” she asked.
He managed to decipher what she’d said under the scarf and chuckled. To see her better, he pulled the thick wrapping so it hung around her neck. “You look…warm.”
She scoffed and then giggled, shaking her lovely head.
“Have you recovered enough from our last venture outside?” he asked, still cursing himself over what happened and how helpless he’d felt as it all unfolded. She laughed and nodded, touching the slight scrape above her eye. She’d taken off the butterfly bandage so all that remained was a tiny pink scratch and a small bruise.
“You know,” she said after staring at her tan boots, “maybe I watch too much television or read too many unrealistic books, but I thought I’d know where Danielle was by now. My mom has called ten times since I talked to her at Hawthorne’s. I don’t know what to tell her.”
He opened his mouth to reassure her when it dawned on him what she’d said. “You were talking to your mom in Hawthorne’s?”
“Yes, I was talking to my mom. I tried to tell her we were close to finding Danielle, a lie she didn’t believe, and then she asked who we were, and the conversation sort of went downhill from there.”
He sank back and inhaled. “I thought—”
Grace cut him off. “I know.” Then she gave into her nervous habit of tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. “If you’re worried about Rick, I can assure you, he won’t mess anything up regarding Maggie.”
Ayden didn’t want to admit that jealousy, not concern, was his first knee-jerk reaction to believing Grace had told another man she loved him. No matter his emotional response, he needed to stay focused and on course.
His thoughtful silence caused Grace to continue to reassure him. “Rick likes to ‘find himself,’ which usually involves some girl with a three-syllable name.” She paused. “Re-bec-ca. Na-ta-lie. So-phi-a. I swear, if I have five children, all girls, none of them will have three-syllable names.”
Ayden chuckled, trying to imagine her with five children, all with brown hair and brown-green eyes. He sobered as soon as he pictured himself standing beside her holding one of them.
“I have to ask…how often have you and Rick broken up?”
Ayden believed if a woman had to inhale and lift her head to the starry night to recall the answer, the number was more than she realized.
“Ten times.”
“Ten?”
“No, twelve.”
He felt his eyebrows furrow. “Twelve? Are you sure?”
“Yes. Wait, does it count if he calls it quits only to arrive three hours later with flowers and a bracelet?”
He nodded with his eyes closed. “Yes.”
“Then sixteen.”
“Jesus,” Ayden murmured, lifting his hand to rub at his temples with his thumb and middle finger before diving back into the conversation. “So, you’re saying you and Rick have broken up over a dozen times, and you let him walk back into your life as if nothing happened?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well, more like crawl.”
“And you don’t see a problem with this?” He waited, with unusual patience for her to think of a way to answer.
“He’s what I know, Ayden. There are no surprises with him. Disappointments, yes, but at least I know what’s coming around the corner. I’d prefer that over a sucker punch any day.”
He sat stunned by her confession. “You’re like this revolving door.”
She snapped back a response. “And you’re like a closed one.”
Their fiery gazes locked until a car horn jerked their attention away from one another.
“I’m so sorry.” Her delicate voice rippled through the cab. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
He raised his hand to stop her from apologizing further. He was used to females crumbling under his inquiries, turning to him to help carry their baggage. Then there was Grace. Not only did she not want his help in patching up all the holes in her life, she stood firing off excuses why she wanted them there.
“Why don’t we take a break on trying to psychoanalyze one another, okay?”
Her shoulders dropped as she unfisted her small hands and pulled the toboggan off her head.
“I would ask what you did all day,
but, um—” He pointed to the wrapped desserts sitting between them on the seat.
She grinned and drew away from him. “Yeah, when I should have been out asking questions about Danielle, I came home and made desserts.”
She stopped talking, and he believed they realized, at the same time, how she’d used the word home, so easily. From his peripheral vision, she exhaled and then chastised herself with a shake of her head. Before she could apologize, he lifted his chin toward the square, and pointed to the lofty unlit Christmas tree.
“We’re here.”
Although most of the parking spaces were full, he drove a few more blocks and parked at O’Shannon’s. “We’ll have to walk…is that okay?”
Grace nodded, pulled the scarf above her nose, and pushed the door open with her shoulder. Before joining her, Ayden snagged the blanket he’d used to keep her warm a few nights ago. A shudder went through him, remembering her miserable and pasty appearance when he’d climbed back in the cab that day. He didn’t want to let her know, but he’d almost panicked. For a moment, he felt helpless. All he could think about was his parents, the unit he’d abandoned in Afghanistan, and his buddy who never made it home.
He let out a shaky breath. For years, he’d tried to forget Lt. Mark Ramsey. They had graduated Officer Candidate School together and been assigned to sister units in Afghanistan. They shared stories and booze, and talked about what they wanted to do when they returned home. Then, Ayden’s parents died, and Mark was transferred to take his place. Three weeks later, he and five others from his platoon were killed by an insurgent attack. Right after Ayden received the news, he made a pact with himself, believing as long as he remained unemotionally attached to anyone, he never had to worry about losing or leaving them ever again.
“Ayden?’
Grace’s quiet voice yanked him out of his thoughts, and he turned to gaze upon her outrageous outfit. She rolled her eyes toward her hat and then down at her puffed-up appearance. “Do you think I could lose one of these things?” she asked, behind her scarf.
“Do you want to risk getting hypothermia, again?”
Her dark eyebrows rose over her gold-infused, multicolored eyes. Although they both shared a harrowing experience, he had no doubt; her mind was remembering what he’d chosen to do to raise her heart rate. They stared at each other, inching forward when the crunch of someone’s boots forced them to separate.
“Howdy.”
They turned to find Neil standing beside them, a Santa hat fitted over his Stetson. He gave Grace a once-over and then let out an ear-piercing whistle. “Well, ain’t you a sight to see.”
Grace lifted her gaze to his hats, pulled down her scarf, and grinned. “Yep,” she said, imitating his heavy Texas drawl.
Ayden held a chuckle behind his fist as Neil sent her a slow wink.
“So, how’s Sarah and the baby?” Ayden asked, pulling his friend’s attention back to him.
Neil sent him a single nod. “Oh, just fine. She sent me here so she can watch the lighting via my iPhone. She didn’t want to miss making her wish.”
“Of course,” Ayden said. Women and their wishes, he thought as he reached for Grace’s gloved hand. He also thought to take the extra container of desserts she’d made before leading them toward the festive event.
Although the snow had stopped and the clouds had cleared to render a brilliant night sky of twinkling stars, it was still very cold.
“Are you warm enough?” he leaned down to ask Grace.
“She looks like the doughboy in those croissant commercials, Ayden. I’m sure as hell she’s warm enough,” Neil said, aiming a freckled index finger at her midsection.
“Don’t you dare,” Ayden warned with a stern glance in Neil’s direction.
Neil’s lopsided grin told Ayden he’d revealed more than a firm warning not to touch her. Then with a wink and a quick salute, Neil moseyed off in the direction of the tree, his gait assured and easy.
In the background, the local high school band began to play another Christmas song, this time, “Please Come Home for Christmas.”
With Neil standing behind the conductor, mimicking him, but trying to get the band to speed up the tempo, Ayden maneuvered Grace toward Francis Tisdale’s concession stand. Jolene stood beside the older woman, her wrinkled features beaming with excitement. As was tradition, Francis ran the charity auction for the children’s hospital, making sure the young patients received plenty of presents on Christmas day.
“You did bring her”—Jolene handed both a paper cup of hot chocolate—“I think,” she added, squinting as if to see if the woman dressed from head to toe in winter gear was, in fact, Grace.
Grace giggled and lowered the scarf from her mouth. “It’s me.”
The older woman sent Ayden a quizzical look before lifting her mouth in a secretive smile.
“I brought some more desserts.” Grace took the container from him to hand to Jolene.
“Thank God,” the woman said. “The ones I brought, we ran out of them about a half hour ago. I’m thinking of upping the price. Supply and demand, you know?” She sent Grace a smile. “Well, you better go find a seat, Ayden. You don’t want Grace to miss making her wish, do you?”
Ayden smirked, wishing he hadn’t forgotten about the damn custom before asking Grace if she wanted to come here. The last thing he needed was for Grace to make a wish regarding her ex-boyfriend.
“What’s this wish thing everybody keeps talking about?” she asked after they’d rotated in the direction of the benches.
Ayden glanced down, and she blinked back up at him like a curious child asking about the meaning of life.
“Well,” he said and then paused.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
Her question threw him off guard. “It’s…just—”
He let out a big sigh and then turned to face her. “There are too many damn legends in this town to keep up with all of them, in my opinion. The one tonight says, if you make a wish in the exact moment between when the mayor calls the last number of the countdown and the lights are switched on, then whatever you wish will come true.”
She blinked at him and didn’t say anything for a few shallow and puffy cold breaths. When she finally found her voice, her next question was as challenging as the last one she’d asked. “Have you ever made a wish?”
If Ayden did, he didn’t remember one of them. He was too sensible, caring more about tangible things, things he could feel with his hands and see with his eyes. “No.”
Her glittering gaze narrowed on him before she rotated to stare at the tree. He wondered what she was thinking. For someone who read romance novels and whose favorite movie was a fairy-tale cartoon, he knew she was capable of wishing the most unattainable things in the world. Then again, even if her fairy-tale wish did come true, would she spend the rest of her life, wondering if there was an unhappy ending somehow attached?
“All right, folks. Are you ready?” called the well-dressed mayor into the microphone.
The crowd responded with loud cheers. Ayden needed to do something to keep Grace from wishing for what he thought she wanted: Rick back in her life.
“Five, four, three, two…”
So, he did the only thing that he knew would pull her attention away from the wish and to him: he kissed her.
Chapter Fourteen
Grace had her wish ready, and she couldn’t wait to make it, until Ayden turned her head and brought his lips firm against hers. As the echoing voice announced the final number in the countdown, her wish flitted away.
Within another thunderous heartbeat, a cheer erupted from the crowd and a bright light penetrated through her closed eyelids. Tender and languishing, his mouth slid across hers, this kiss more drugging than the last. Lost in a cloud of elevated sensations, he parted her lips with his tongue. His hand cupped the back of her head, and his thumb caressed her cheek. Then, just as fast as the kiss began, it ended.
Ayden drew back from her,
his gaze steady on her face. She blinked at him, a little dazed and a tad winded, her breath leaving her in quick, shallow puffs.
“We should go,” he said after a long moment of silence between them.
Unable to think of a reason to stay, she stood when Neil ambled up to stand between them.
“So, what did you think when you first saw the tree light up, Grace? Wasn’t it…magical?”
Grace canted her head toward Ayden and shrugged. “Sorry, Neil, but I think I had my eyes closed.”
Neil agitated his full head of red hair. “It’s the wish that matters, as long as you thought of it in time.”
Grace drew in a frigid inhale. She had no way of knowing, not with Ayden’s mouth rendering her thoughtless for those few precious moments. Oh, she wasn’t so daft as not to realize he’d tried to distract her enough to keep her from making a wish. This thought didn’t bother her as much as how much his kisses were starting to affect her…emotionally. Either she needed to keep reminding herself of their peculiar relationship, or she’d be the one left with a devastating broken heart.
With a braver façade than she felt, she rotated toward the Christmas tree, the white lights glowing like a heavenly orb. Despite what she knew, she closed her eyes and made the wish she’d planned on sending out into the universe.
“Well, ya’ll make sure you come by and see Sarah and the baby tomorrow.” Neil tipped his hat before sauntering off in the direction of O’Shannon’s.
For the next ten minutes, Grace walked beside Ayden, watching him wave to everyone he knew, stopping once when one man called out to ask if he was going to O’Shannon’s to watch the game.
“I have other plans.” He grasped her hand.
Ayden didn’t let go until they were back at the truck, and he didn’t say a word until they were settled in the cold interior of the cab.
“You can, you know,” she volunteered before he shifted the truck into Drive. She remembered how Rick always blamed her for keeping him from doing what he wanted. She didn’t want Ayden thinking the same thing.
In Mistletoe Page 12