Kiss Me for Christmas

by Christine Bell, Riley Murphy, Ros Clarke, Faye Robertson

  “Mick, thank God! Why haven’t you been answering my calls, damn it!” Her panicked tone sent a frozen shard of dread into his gut.

  He swallowed the wave of nausea that swamped him. “Please tell me he’s going to be okay.”

  She let out a broken sob, and it felt like forever before she was able to catch her breath to respond. “Aimee was driving him home and hit a patch of black ice. You need to get here now. To the hospital. He has a compound fracture in his femur. He’s lost a lot of blood and I’ve donated, but you need to as well, just in case.”

  “Is he going to be okay?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. Jesus, Mick, where the hell are you?”

  He tried to form the words but despair choked him into silence.

  “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We’re at Northwest Memorial. Aimee’s with me. She hit her head, but the airbag saved her. I need you to get here. You know I don’t h-handle this kind of stuff—” She sucked in a shuddering breath and again started to cry.

  “I don’t want to stay on while I’m driving. I won’t be good to anyone if I have an accident myself trying to get there. I’ll be there in twenty minutes or less,” he promised.

  A moment later, he disconnected and glanced up at Leah’s dark bedroom window. He should have woken her, but there was no time now. He briefly contemplated calling as he backed out of the drive. No, he was in no shape for conversation and would likely only worry her, or worse, say something he might regret.

  He was working on autopilot here, shock and stress driving him while he turned this terrifying development over in his mind. For the first time since his divorce, he’d made himself unavailable to Luke.

  Memories of his own childhood flooded him as he drove. Him at the age of five, standing by the door with his suitcase, waiting for his Dad who never showed. His mother’s reaction…some toxic combination of rage and glee. Listening to her bash his father to anyone willing to lend an ear. The apology phone calls about something coming up at work. Lather, rinse, repeat. Disgust rolled through him like an incoming tide.

  Fuck that.

  He hit the gas and barreled toward his son.

  …

  Leah stared down at her phone, reading the two line message again.

  Had an emergency. Will call when I can.

  No matter how long she looked at it, no matter how many times she read it, it never supplied any more answers than it had the first time. She stared out the kitchen window and took a long pull from her coffee mug in spite of her sour stomach. She’d woken up at around five and spent three and a half hours sick, her gut churning, over his unexplained abandonment before her phone had vibrated with his short, cryptic message. Reading it had done little to settle her, and she’d called him twice without response.

  “Well, hopefully everything is okay,” Cassandra said, her brow furrowed. “I’m sure he’ll call you back when he can. If it was really bad we would have heard by now. Could it have been a work emergency?”

  Cassandra sat across from her, making a show of nibbling at her toast but not seeming to get anywhere. She’d come by to do some last minute gift wrapping and had walked in on Leah crying. She’d been mother-henning her ever since, and even made breakfast, but neither of them had consumed much of anything. Leah was too worried about Mick, and Cassandra was worried about Leah worrying about Mick. Not a recipe for hearty breakfast eating.

  Leah shook her head. “Real estate agents don’t have too many emergencies in the middle of the night. Especially during the holidays. Almost no one is showing anything or buying and selling until the holidays are over. Maybe a burst water pipe at a vacant listing, but I can’t imagine much else. Honestly? I don’t think it’s work related, but I don’t know for sure.” Because he didn’t wake me to tell me or consider the fact that I might be worried sick, she barely refrained from adding. She shoved that thought aside ruthlessly. This was about Mick and whatever had happened in the middle of the night, not about her wounded feelings.

  She hoped, for the millionth time, that it wasn’t something with Luke. Surely if that was it, he would’ve woken her up or called by now. Maybe something with his sister or someone else in the family? Or maybe it was just a burst pipe at his own house. It had been bitterly cold, and he hadn’t been home much for the past few days.

  Or just maybe last night hadn’t affected him as it had her. And just maybe he was looking for a graceful way to bow out. The shit part of it was that she had no clue which, if any, of the above were true and it both infuriated and terrified her. Who did he think he was, burrowing into her heart and head and then walking away without even telling her what was going on? She’d barely completed the thought when she cycled back to the fear. If something happened to Luke, Mick would—

  “Lee.” Her sister sighed and met her gaze head on. “What’s going on here? Seriously. No more bullshit.”

  She fought the urge to look away and opened her mouth to deliver a quick denial, but the expression on her sister’s face stopped her. Her hands suddenly felt like ice, and she cupped them around the warm clay mug while she reconsidered her answer. “You can’t tell Mom and Dad,” she said, finally.

  Her sister wordlessly held out a pinky which Leah twined with her own. The simple, familiar gesture sent a fresh flood of tears to her eyes. “You were right. Something was fishy about me and Mick. I—I lied to you guys. The ‘rents were worried about me, and you were getting married,” she paused to take a steadying breath. “Mick and I aren’t engaged. In fact, we’re not even dating. We’re just friends. Were friends. I mean, we’re still friends, but last night…”

  Her sister didn’t even blink. “Yeah, I had a feeling it was something like that. It was like all the details felt fake. The when-you-met story and the first date story, not to mention all that stuff you said about him when you were fighting. But the other stuff was so real. The way you look at each other when you think no one is watching, and the chemistry between you, even when you’re fighting. Ooh, mama! It’s like scorching.” She fanned herself dramatically.

  Leah’s cheeks felt flushed. “Yeah, he’s pretty steamy,” she agreed.

  “Not him. You guys together.” Cassandra shrugged. “And lo and behold, I was right. You love him.”

  The words, spoken out loud, made her flinch. “Is it that obvious?” She’d only realized it herself for certain last night, so the fact that her sister had figured it out in only a few days was terrifying.

  “To me it is, but I’ve known you my whole life. I haven’t seen you like this in a very long time. I truly hope it works out between you because from what I can tell, Mick is a great guy and I think he loves you too. I’m sure you’ll hear from him any time now, and it will be fine. When it is, make sure you tear him a new one and add a couple jabs from me. Men are so thick sometimes, and he probably has no clue what he’s putting you through.”

  Cassandra stood and grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. “I’ll lure Mom away on a last minute shopping jag with the promise of Cheesecake Factory for lunch. I think Dad was planning to meet Rich Jevnik for a day at the lodge. That will give you some time to figure out what’s going on without us all hovering, okay?”

  “Thanks.” She worked up a smile but couldn’t shake the sense of dread. No matter what was going on with Mick, that he hadn’t called or answered her calls was troubling. Early on, she’d comforted herself with the thought that, if it had been really serious, he would’ve woken her up. As the hours dragged by, the odds of it being a burst pipe or something equally mundane lessened. To her mind, either he regretted their night together and needed to get away from her, or something awful had happened. She loved Mick enough to find herself in the unenviable position of hoping it was the former. But, damn, it hurt. “Call me when you get back this afternoon. I’ll let you know about dinner, okay?”

  “Sounds good. If you hear from him, call me so it’s not hanging over me all day.”

  “Will do,” she promised.

  B
y the time Cassandra had gone and Leah had cleaned up the breakfast dishes, her fear and sadness had morphed into fury. Nine thirty. Who the hell did he think he was, putting her through this? Even if he’d changed his mind and only wanted to be friends, this wasn’t how friends treated each other.

  Just as she worked up a good head of steam, her phone trilled, sending her heart to her toes. She grabbed it from the coffee table and peered down at the number.

  Mick.

  “Hello?” Her mouth trembled and she bit her lip hard.

  “It’s me.” His voice was curt. Businesslike, but she could hear the fatigue as well. “Sorry I took so long to call. One minute it was five a.m. and the next it was now.”

  “What’s going on?” She tried to keep her tone level, but it wasn’t easy with her emotions clanging around like a bagful of silverware.

  “It’s Luke. He was in an accident last night coming home from a friend’s house. He broke his femur and lost a lot of blood, but he’s going to be okay.”

  Her knees buckled with relief, and she slumped heavily onto the couch, anger draining from her in an instant. “Aww, the poor little guy. I’m so glad he’s going to be okay. Wh-what about you? Are you all right?”

  “I’ll be fine once I see him again. Sheila is in with him now. He just came out of surgery. It was a compound fracture, and they had to put a pin in, but they think he’s going to make a full recovery.”

  “Thank God.”

  “When I saw that little guy just before they wheeled him into surgery…Jesus, Leah, he was so fucking pale.” His voice broke on the end, and she gripped the phone tighter in her hand.

  “I’m so sorry, Mick. You must have been terrified. What can I do? Do you want me to come?”

  “No.”

  The single word, spoken with such finality, hung between them for an eternity. Her throat went tight, and it was a while before she trusted herself to speak. “Okay. I’ll be here if you need someone to go water your plants, or if you have anything at work that needs attention, let me know. You don’t worry about anything except taking care of Luke, all right?”

  “Thanks.” He hesitated before speaking again. “Leah, listen—”

  The regret in his voice was like an icy splash of water on the last ember of hope in her heart, and she cut him off. “It’s fine, Mick. I understand. We can talk about it after the New Year. Or not. Just take care of yourself.”

  She disconnected, managing to hold back a sob until she set the phone back down. Then, she buried her face in her hands and wept.

  Chapter Eight

  The morning passed in a haze of tears and regret. If she hadn’t pushed Mick into this corner with her stupid lie, they could still be friends. Her stomach knotted at that thought. That wasn’t what she wanted, but even friends was better than this. She shuddered, every fiber of her being recoiling at the memory of the ice in his tone.

  She cupped her mug of forgotten tea, stone cold now, and willed the endless flow of tears to stop. Her parents would be here any minute, and all attempts at erasing the telltale red from her eyes had failed. Her lips felt puffy, and she looked like a wreck. She set down the cup and was heading to the bathroom when the doorbell rang.

  She paused for a glance at the mirror in the hallway and winced. What was she going to tell them?

  “Hurry up, Leah! It’s freezing out here,” her mother called.

  Time was up. She swung the door open to face Cassandra and her mother, a half-baked story about PMS on her lips, but at the sight of the two women who loved her most, they fell away.

  “I—I…oh, Mom. I screwed up so bad.” The words were wrenched from her on a sob. She’d made a mistake, and it needed fixing.

  Her mother’s face crumpled. “Oh, baby, what is it? Are you sick? Hurt? Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.” She held out her arms and Leah stepped into them, the scent of vanilla curling around her like a hug.

  “I hate to break it up, but can we do this inside?” Cassandra asked gently.

  Leah stepped back and met her sister’s puzzled gaze. “I kn-know I said I wasn’t going to tell, but I realize now, this was never going to work.”

  She led them into the house and closed the door behind them, swiped a shaky hand over her wet cheeks.

  “I think it’s for the best,” Cassandra said with a nod.

  “What in the world are you two talking about?” Her mother asked, sinking down into an armchair and clutching her coat more tightly around her.

  “I…wasn’t honest with you about something. Mick isn’t my fiancé. In fact, he isn’t even my boyfriend.”

  She slumped forward, relief etched on her face. “Oh, thank God.”

  Leah stared at her, baffled. “Wait, what?”

  “Well, I thought you had cancer and had been hiding it from me or something. This, I can deal with.” She waved her hand and let out a long breath. “Don’t ever do that to me again. Just spit it out next time, for crying out loud.”

  Leah floundered. “Mom, I lied to you guys. Aren’t you mad? Disappointed? Something?”

  “Disappointed, because I really love our Mick, but I’m not mad. I know why you did it, and I think some of the blame lies with me. I just wanted to see you settled, and I may have put some pressure on you. I’m sorry for that.”

  “No. This is not your fault. I did this, and I take full responsibility for it. I just can’t stand to see Dad sick, and if you came back because of me…”

  Her mother leaned forward and took her hand. “I know that, darling. You’re my sweet girl and I appreciate that, but like you, your father and I are grown. We make our own decisions and believe me, winter in Chicago after enjoying winter in Arizona has sealed the deal for us. We’re not coming back here. You’re young, beautiful, healthy—thank God—and you’ve got a great head on your shoulders. You don’t need a man until you want one.”

  The problem was, she did want one. Just one…

  “Ah, that’s what I thought,” her mother said, sitting back with a frown. “You love him. Which is a good thing, from my perspective. Because he loves you too.”

  “That’s what I said!” Cassandra piped up from her station by the door.

  Leah shook her head. “He doesn’t. Or even if he does, it’s not like that. He has a son and they have their own little family together. They’re not in the market for a new addition.” No point in worrying her further with a discussion about Luke’s accident.

  “Hmph.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Her mother pinned a knowing blue gaze on Leah. “I don’t know what the problem is between you two, but I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of Mick.”

  A single flash of hope blasted through her sadness, but she squashed it ruthlessly. She couldn’t afford to hope again. It hurt too much. “You’re wrong, Mom. I heard it in his voice today when he all but told me flat out. That part of our relationship is over.” Saying it out loud sent another wave of grief washing over her.

  “Aw, baby, come here.” Her mother stood and pulled her in for another hug. “Cassandra,” she called over Leah’s shoulder, “get the cheesecake out of the bag and get your sister a fork. We’re going to be here awhile.”

  She snuggled in closer, rubbing her face against the knobby wool coat and breathing in the scent of home. Her mother had forgiven her. It was something at least.

  Something, her heart whispered. But not enough.

  …

  Mick stared at the phone in his hand as he had a hundred times, finger hovering over the redial button. Almost a week had passed since they’d talked, but he still couldn’t bring himself to press it. Leah was the first person he’d connected with since the breakup, and he’d treated her like dirt. Even after his not so subtle blow off, she’d been nothing but amazing. She’d sent picnic baskets of food to the hospital on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and when he’d gone home to take a shower this morning, his driveway had been cleared of the six inches of snow that
had accumulated overnight. All he’d done so far in return was to whip off a couple of thank you texts and a brief update on Luke’s condition, which was improving rapidly. In fact, he’d be ready to go home in a few days.

  Mick ran a tired hand over his face and set the phone down on the cafeteria table.

  “You going to call her or what? Tell me you have plans with her for tonight. After all, it’s New Year’s Eve.”

  Sheila slid into the booth across from him and smiled.

  He didn’t respond, redirecting the conversation instead. “How did his therapy go?”

  “Good. His thigh itches under the cast, but the pain is much better. The doctor said his youth is working in our favor, and he’ll be running around driving us nuts again in no time.”

  He nodded and managed a smile at that. “I can’t wait.”

  Sheila nudged his hand with her Styrofoam coffee cup until he met her gaze. “Who is she?”

  She wasn’t going to let him slide, and he was too tired to fight her any longer. “Leah Latrelle.”

  Sheila’s brows rose at that. “Your partner? Interesting. I’ve seen a picture of her on your newspaper ad. She’s lovely, and judging by the food we’ve been getting she’s also a great cook. So what’s the problem? How come she’s not here and you’re staring at your phone like it holds the key to the universe?”

  “It’s not going to work out.”

  She tilted her head and when she frowned, the dam broke. Tired? Hell, he was exhausted keeping all his guilt bottled up.

  “You wanted to know where I was that night. Why I didn’t answer my phone when Luke called? What I was doing while he was in the ER crying for me? I was in bed with Leah. I turned my fucking phone off so we wouldn’t be interrupted.” He pressed his fingers to his temples to ease the ache that had been a constant for the past few days. “I keep playing things over in my head. How different things would be today if only I’d answered when he called.”

  Sheila put a hand to her throat and shook her head slowly. “It’s not your fault, Mick.”

  He didn’t say anything to that. He just ground his molars together. Hard.