Hot for the Holidays (21 Holiday Short Stories): A Collection of Naughty and Nice Holiday Romances

by Anthology

  Marty narrates our trip as we head out of Iowa and into Nebraska’s great plains.

  "Nebraska was once called ‘The Great American Desert.’ Marlon Brando was born here, the state insect is the honeybee, and it is home to the world’s largest porch swing. It seats twenty-five people!"

  We all nod enthusiastically at our new friend as he continues his colorful commentary in the background.

  You learn pretty quickly the types of people who ride trains. You have the regulars, some who keep to themselves and some who are entirely crazy and possibly unstable. I would put both Monica and Marty into this category since between them they seem to have braved this at least a dozen times. That makes them both crazy and unstable in my eyes. Then you have the first timers. Jill and her family are train virgins, enjoying their trip despite the cramped sleeper car. Then Brett and I fall into the final category—the once-in-a-lifetimers. Brett is here for the experience. I’m here for him. But it will never be happening again.

  After dinner, our group, including Vera, makes our way to the lounge car for a nightcap. There, we’re joined by Father David and a friend he’d made named Jonah, who is a writer in Amtrak’s residency program – whatever that is. I’m finally able to work my matchmaking skills on Father David and Sister Mary. And by matchmaking, I mean I introduced them and walked away giggling. Maybe they’ll fall madly in love and denounce their vows, giving up the holy cloth to be together. Probably not, but I mention it to Jonah in case he needs material for his next book.

  Chapter Eight

  I’m startled from sleep by the conductor’s thick voice. I squint my eyes open and find our compartment pitch black. Brett rolls over, his heavy arm pinning me against the mattress. I curl into him, and I’m lost again in the fog of sleep. There was something important the conductor was saying. Delay? Snow and ice?

  I stretch out, slowly waking up, and realize Brett isn’t beside me. Turning and reaching for him, I hit nothing but mattress. I peek through cracked eyelids and find Brett sitting stiffly in the recliner, the tiniest sliver of light shining in through the curtained windows.

  "What time is it?" I groan.

  "Not even seven yet."

  "What are you doing up?"

  I take him in. His hands are clutched in front of him, and I watch the muscle in his cheek bounce as he tightens his jaw.

  "We’re stuck."

  I shoot up from the mattress. "What?"

  "We haven’t moved."

  I pull the curtains aside and squint out the window. "What do you mean, stuck? Where are we?"

  Brett shrugs. "Somewhere called Holdrege, Nebraska. There’s a train stranded on the tracks ahead of us. They ran into a large snowdrift. We’ve been held at this station while they work to clear the tracks or find an alternate route."

  My stomach churns as my brain begins to run through all of the possible scenarios. "How long are we going to be here?"

  "I don’t know, babe."

  I can barely look at his guilt-ridden face. I pull out the route map and check the times. "Brett. There’s at least another thirty hours from here to Reno. And that’s with no delays. We should’ve been halfway through Colorado by now!"

  His voice is flat. "They’re saying if they can’t get things moving within the next five hours or so, they’ll bring in busses to transport the passengers."

  "To where?" I snap loudly.

  "I don’t know, Morgan." His voice is hard, cold. "Look," he says, softening his tone. "I’m sorry, babe. I really am. I don’t know what their timeline is like or why this is happening to us. All we can do is just make the best of our time together and keep everyone updated with our situation. We’ll get there. Don’t worry."

  He reaches for me but I jerk away. "Don’t worry? This is my wedding, Brett!"

  I watch as he cringes at my words. I know he feels guilty, but I don’t care. I’m not feeling very rational right now. The forgotten wedding shoes, the delays, the shitty nights of sleep, and toting my wedding dress around like the queen of all bridezillas have all caught up to me, and I need an outlet. I need something, or someone, to blame.

  "We wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you, Brett." I stand and kick the mattress. "You could’ve had anything for your one thing. I assumed I’d be giving you a free pass to motorboat some stripper’s plastic tatas in Vegas. But no, you choose a train trip!"

  He rubs at the back of his neck, and I can see him trying to hold it together. But I keep pushing.

  "All of the planning, all of the time I’ve spent on this, means nothing. Because I’m going to miss my own wedding."

  He pushes up from the chair and moves toward the door. "Our, Morgan."

  "What?"

  He shakes his head, hurt radiating from his features as he turns to me. "It’s our wedding," he says quietly. "Not yours. And at the end of the day, it’s a stupid fucking party."

  "It is not stupid," I yell.

  "Is it worth this?" He motions between us.

  I can’t find the words to answer. I’m seething and I feel like I have no control over my own emotions. I know I’m hurting him, but I can’t shut it off.

  "You think I don’t realize that we could be relaxing in Tahoe right now if we had just taken a plane? You think I don’t already feel like shit? It was a family tradition, yes, but I thought it would be a good way for us to take our minds off all of the stress of the wedding and just be together. I should’ve known you couldn’t handle something like this. Instead of it bringing us closer together, it’s just pulling us apart."

  "What’s that supposed to mean?" I call after him as he walks through the door.

  He turns toward me, broad shoulders drooping. "What’s left after your big wedding, Morgan?"

  The door bangs shut behind him, and I curl into a ball on the mattress. Tears soak the sheet beneath my cheek as I replay his words in my head. Then I think about what my mom said. The only thing you can’t get married without is Brett.

  I know she’s right. I just can’t help but feel like this all could have gone so differently if we hadn’t set foot on this stupid train.

  I pull out my phone and try my maid of honor. No answer.

  This is a wedding emergency if I’ve ever had one, so I switch to FaceTime and try to connect on a video call.

  A mess of blonde waves and green eyes fill the screen. "Morgan? What on earth are you doing? Do you know what time it is?"

  Her face drops as she notices mine, and she immediately changes course. "Are you crying? What happened? Are you okay?"

  I choke on a sob and shake my head. "No. We’re delayed, stuck somewhere in Nebraska, and Brett and I just got into a huge fight."

  "You’re delayed? For how long?" Her tired eyes widen as she puts together the pieces. "Oh, my God!"

  "We’ve been here since sometime in the middle of the night. There’s a train stuck on the tracks ahead of us. They don’t know when we’ll be moving again. And none of this would be happening right now if we hadn’t taken this stupid train trip."

  She bites her lip, looking sympathetic. "And I’m assuming you said something to that effect to your future hubby?"

  I nod. "Guilty."

  Embry rolls her eyes at me and stifles a smile. "M, you know I love you. And I know how much time you’ve put into this. I know how much it means; I’ve been there with you every step of the way."

  "See?" I agree. "You get it."

  "I do." She hesitates. "But none of this would mean anything without Brett to share it with. A wedding is an amazing celebration, but it’s a celebration of the marriage. And you kind of need Brett for that part."

  I shrug.

  "Come on, Morgan," she pushes. "I can see it all over your face. You don’t like fighting with him." She narrows her eyes at me. "Do you honestly think Brett would have ever suggested this if he knew it would add more stress or cause you to possibly miss your wedding? He couldn’t have foreseen this."

  "I know, but still, it happened. And we wouldn�
��t be in this situation if he hadn’t wanted this train trip so badly."

  "And you gave it to him, didn’t you? Because you love him, and you want him to be happy."

  "Maybe." I hate when she makes good points. I also hate that I have her on video because she can read my expressions like a book.

  "So you’re stuck. You’re delayed. What are you going to do? Punish him for it? Or start your marriage out the right way by working through it together?"

  "Why do you have to be so goddamn logical?" I stick my tongue out at her.

  "One of us has to be," she teases. "You saw me through the hardest times of my life and you gave me a swift kick in the ass when I almost let Luke go. So I’m just repaying the favor. Go get your man. When the wedding and all the celebrating is over, you have each other. Cherish that. It’s precious. And really, you can start your marriage any time." She shrugs. "If you want to get married in some podunk town in Nebraska, I’ll hop on the next flight."

  "Ha." Imagine that.

  "Oh, hold on a sec."

  She sets her phone down, and from that angle, I can see Luke approaching her. Southern Sexy is looking peachy with just a towel wrapped around his waist, and I can’t help but smile as I watch them interact.

  "Morning, beautiful." He sweeps her hair away from her face and kisses her lips.

  "Hey, baby."

  I avert my eyes, giving them their private moment, but my heart swells seeing how happy my best friend is. I want that.

  Guilt tears through me as I realize that I have it already. I’ve just been taking it for granted. Every bridal meltdown, every tiff or tantrum, Brett has been right beside me to back me up, to act as my partner. But when it came time to have his back on something, I did nothing but complain and blame him at every turn.

  The display shifts and Embry comes back into view. "Sorry about that."

  "Tell Peaches he should’ve dropped the towel."

  Embry rolls her eyes, and I toss her a wicked grin.

  "I heard that, Morgan," I hear him rasp in the background. "Not a chance, sweetheart."

  "Well, is there a chance you might fly out to East Bumblefuck, Nebraska to help me get hitched?"

  Embry jumps up, the screen wobbling with her. "Really?"

  I nod, blinking back tears. "I’m gonna go get my man."

  "Baby!" Embry yells to Luke. "Change of plans! We’re going to Nebraska!"

  Chapter Nine

  I wander through the train, trying to collect my thoughts and figure out exactly what I want to say to Brett. My head’s a jumbled mess and I really don’t want to screw this up any further.

  Stepping into the observation car, I hope for peace and quiet so I can sort through my feelings. I get one better. Father David.

  He sits in the empty car, staring out onto the frozen plain. Not bothering to turn toward me, he somehow still knows I’m there.

  "Come, sit." He pats the chair next to him.

  I slump into the seat, and we gaze out the window in companionable silence. I wait quite a while for him to speak, but he never does.

  "Isn’t this where you share some profound advice that makes me see the error of my ways?"

  His mouth twitches. "I’m quite certain you know the error of your ways, as you say. Why don’t you get whatever it is that’s bothering you off your chest?"

  I let out a breath and stare down at my feet. "I messed up, Father. I’m not sure how to say sorry for this one."

  "You just say it." I feel his gray eyes on me, assessing. "You’re a smart girl, Morgan, but it doesn’t have to be more complicated than that. You say, ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s it."

  "That’s it?" I shake my head in disbelief. "That’s all you got for me?"

  "It’s a start, my dear, and one of the most important things you can learn. God willing, you’ll have a very long life together. And in that time, you’re both going to make mistakes. So you learn how to apologize, and you learn to fight for what matters." He trains his eyes on me then, and I see the pain of the loss of his wife. "And never forget that what matters most is the two of you."

  I nod and offer a weak smile, tears welling in my eyes.

  Father David pats me on the knee and continues. "My Nancy didn’t quite like to fly. I had to get used to train travel if we wanted to go anywhere. And now that she’s gone," he hesitates, clearing his throat. "Well, now that she’s gone, I make this trip once a year in her honor, to go visit our kids and grandkids."

  He pulls out his wallet and shares with me pictures of their two children, and three grandchildren, and then of his Nancy. Their wedding photo. I was right—Father David had it going on when he was younger. He looked just like James Dean. And his wife, like a young Natalie Wood. They were beautiful, and I tell him so.

  "The start to a beautiful life…" he trails off. "You’re not always going to agree. And you aren’t always going to want to go out of your way for him. But do it. Learn how to bend, Morgan, and not break. Because that something that you bend on," he glances down at Nancy’s photo, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her cheek, "May just turn into the one thing that lets you feel close to them when they’re gone."

  With tears streaming down my face, I grab Father David’s hand. "Thank you," I say. "Thank you for sharing her with me."

  He nods, eyes misty. Brushing a fatherly kiss across the back of my hand, he leans in and whispers, "I have my vestments back in my room if you’re in need of something a little more official."

  I beam at him. "I think I just might."

  Then he winks that wink and leaves me alone with my thoughts.

  After the five minutes it takes to gather my nerve, I jump from my chair and nearly sprint through the train, hoping to find Brett as quickly as possible. I still don’t know exactly what I’m going to say, but I know I’m going to follow Father David’s advice and just start with "I’m sorry."

  I find our car and burst into the cabin ready to beg for forgiveness. Instead, I find countless tea light candles setting the room aglow, and Brett kneeling in the center, a single red rose in his hand.

  "I—" I choke back a sob and take a deep breath, trying to rein in my emotions. "What did you do?"

  He grins up at me.

  I kneel in front of him and swat at his chest. "You stupid, swoony, son of a bitch. What are you doing?"

  "I love you, Morgan. Through the ups and the downs, the good and the bad. I want to be there for every bit of it. I don’t care if we’re late for our wedding, not as long as we’re together. But I will do my damnedest to get you there on time because all I need in this life is to be with you, to see you smile—"

  I silence him, pressing a finger to his lips. "I love you, too. And I’m sorry. I’ll travel anywhere with you, by any means. There is no wedding to rush to if I don’t have you."

  He reaches out, cupping my jaw and brushing my tears away. "You’re beautiful, you know that?"

  I shake my head and look at the ground, but he forces my eyes to his.

  "You are. You’re beautiful, Morgan. And you’re mine."

  He crushes his lips to mine, our tongues searching and exploring. And he spends the next hour reminding me of every single way I belong to him, and him to me.

  In the dim winter morning light, we lay tangled together on the sofa, Brett’s fingers running lazily through my hair.

  "How did you do all of this?" I ask, wondering where in the hell he got all of the candles, the rose, and the bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket in our sink.

  He laughs, the deep sound vibrating through me. "I bribed Vincent."

  "Vincent? You didn’t!"

  "Mmhmm. I did. It took a little convincing, but Vinny’s got the hook up."

  I nuzzle into his chest. "Well, we’ll have to write Vinny a thank-you."

  "Maybe after the sorry-I-assaulted-you letter that you still owe him."

  "Oh yeah, that." The ninja beat down. That’ll go down in the bridezilla record books for sure.

  Brett’s hands caress m
y back, tracing slow circles against my skin. "Can I tell you something?"

  "Anything."

  "Don’t take this the wrong way…" His hands pause as he seems to weigh his words. "I’m glad this happened. I’m not saying I ever like fighting with you. But it got us here, which is all I really wanted out of this trip. To let everything else just melt away… just me and you."

  "I know exactly what you mean." I gnaw at my lip nervously. "But you may not feel that way when you find out what I did."

  He sits up, taking me with him, a slow smirk spreading across his handsome face. "What kind of trouble have you gotten us into now?"

  My phone sounds an alert and I reach to check it. I have a message from Embry from about twenty minutes ago letting me know they’d be here within the next thirty minutes.

  "Well—"

  I’m interrupted by a knock at our cabin door.

  "I think you’re about to find out."

  Chapter Ten

  "Are you sure you’re okay with this?" I whisper.

  His mouth curves into a slow, sexy smile. "I couldn’t be more okay with this."

  "Okay, lovebirds," Luke grabs Brett by the shoulders and herds him out of the room. "We only have so much time to turn this ugly mug into something presentable."

  Brett laughs and claps Luke on the back. Then he leans in and drops a chaste kiss on my lips. "Last kiss before mister and missus. See you at the altar, gorgeous."

  "See you there." I point a stern finger at Luke. "No shenanigans, Peaches."

  "Me? Never." Luke grabs Embry’s ass on the way out, pulling her close. "See you in an hour, beautiful."

  "Okay, enough, the whole lot of you," Father David pipes up, herding Luke and Brett down the hall. "Move it along."

  I wrap my arm around my best friend’s neck, pulling her in to my side. "Thank you for being here, B."

  She leans her head against mine. "Anything for you. Even in the middle of Nebraska."