Mistletoe Kisses

by Marnie Blue

  Lilly jumped up to greet Justin’s sister. It was his childhood all over again. Except now he was a lonely man adrift in a sea of estrogen. When his dad was alive, he and Justin were cohorts united against the tide.

  As the women began conversing, he left the kitchen. They didn’t appear to notice, and he didn’t expect them to; he just snagged a beer out of the six-pack his mother had obviously put in the fridge for him and retreated to the den.

  He didn’t sit in his dad’s recliner. Instead, he sat in his usual seat at the end of the sofa, kitty-corner to the recliner, and reached for the remote.

  It was halftime in the second game of the afternoon. As a series of commercials played, he let his eyes wander over the familiar room, landing on the unfamiliar. There, in an acrylic box, was the folded American flag that had draped his father’s coffin. It sat on a shelf beneath his father’s portrait. He was in full dress blues, looking younger, but no less strong and stern. Still, in his eyes there was the twinkle that had betrayed his sense of humor, even when he was at his most commanding.

  Justin’s throat tightened. Too many emotions jumbled up inside him, knotting his stomach. He heard footsteps behind him, and then Lilly was there with her hands on his shoulders. She leaned over the back of the couch to smile at him; her familiar peppermint scent swirled around him. The ache in his throat eased. “Hey. You didn’t have to leave the party.”

  “I know. I felt like a third wheel.” He closed his eyes. As a kid, the thought of Lilly leaning so close would have made him pull her over the top of the couch so he could give her noogies; now he had to stop himself from pulling her over the couch to kiss her. Again.

  Stop that, he told himself. No more. Enough.

  With Lilly, there would never be enough. He knew that now. But here, at his mom’s house, he faced his demons and his past, and he knew that no matter how much he liked Lilly—hell, how much he loved her—it would never be enough. He was a cop; she was a reporter. He was part of this family and she was, too—if things didn’t work out between them, then what? His mother and his sister would be forced to take sides?

  No…that wasn’t going to happen. Not on his watch.

  He resigned himself to life without Lilly. Even so, he leaned his head back to press his temple against her cheek. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, and he sighed.

  She pressed her thumbs into his neck and began massaging the knots he didn’t know were there. “We’re going to string some popcorn and watch It’s a Wonderful Life in here. Thought I’d warn you.”

  “You can’t do that,” he muttered. “The game is on.” He didn’t really care—right now, watching football was the last thing he wanted to do. And pulling Lilly over the back of the couch and into his lap wasn’t an option.

  “Too bad. It’s three against one. Mom’s already started the popcorn popper.”

  Even as she spoke, Justin heard the tinny rattle of corn kernels pouring into the hopper and the buzzy whir of the popcorn maker turning on. “Since when have you called my mom Mom?”

  “Since today. She told me to. She said that if I was going to move back here, I should call her Mom. She told me I’m like a daughter to her anyway.”

  Justin had his suspicions; Mom was still hearing those wedding bells. He needed to nip that idea in the bud. Soon. Not today. Today, he’d keep the peace and let things slide.

  But the truth of it was, if they became a couple and then it went wrong, it would ruin everything. For him and for her. Especially her. That made his choices, and his decision, all the clearer to him. But not any easier.

  “Okay. There are no cameras and no mistletoe in here—you can cut it out. No kissing.” Hannah barged into the room and vaulted over the back of the couch. “Gag me.”

  Awkward. Justin wasn’t sure what to say, and as Lilly straightened and drew away, he knew she didn’t, either. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “I’m going to go check on the popcorn.”

  “Bring me back a beer!” Hannah called over her shoulder.

  Justin frowned. “Hey. The beer’s mine. You can drink cider.”

  “Really? Cider?” She turned to frown at him. “So, what’s going on with you two? Really going on? Lilly wouldn’t tell me—she just turned red and came in here.”

  “Then maybe it’s none of your business,” Justin said.

  “Of course it’s my business. Lilly’s my best friend. You’re my brother. I have a right to know.”

  “Wait!” Mom came into the room and sat in his dad’s recliner, settling on it instead of in it as if she wasn’t exactly comfortable there, and stared at Justin. “Well?”

  Justin squirmed. “Well, what?”

  Mom shrugged. “I have eyes, you know. And ears. So? What’s going on with you two?”

  Justin was saved from having to answer when Lilly returned with a big bowl of popcorn and settled on the couch beside him.

  “Nothing. It’s for the piece. You know. Ho ho ho and all that.”

  Hannah narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, come on. Did you jingle her bells, or what?”

  “Hannah!” Lilly swatted at her friend.

  “I want to know, too,” Mom said. “Lilly’s like a daughter to me, Justin. And you two— you’ve got chemistry. Your sparks almost fried the television.”

  “Yeah, well, kissing isn’t chemistry,” Justin muttered, his mood growing blacker by the second. “There’s more to a relationship than just chemistry, you know. Anybody can have chemistry. But it takes work—real work—to have a relationship. You should know that. Especially for a cop and his wife. Obviously. Most cops’ marriages end in divorce.”

  His mother shifted. “I didn’t say you had to get married.”

  “So you’re saying you want us to hook up?” he said.

  “Justin!” Lilly gasped. “Don’t talk to your mom like that.”

  He turned and fixed his gaze on her.

  She frowned. “And don’t smolder at me like that, either.”

  “Yeah, stop smoldering. You jerk.” Heather threw a handful of popcorn at him.

  “I don’t know,” Lilly said then. “There are officers who have successful family lives, too. Just look at your mom and dad. They never had any problems. Not that I’m pushing you into anything. I’m just saying—your parents had an awesome marriage. I’m surprised you feel so negative about it.”

  Justin’s heart sank, and he opened his mouth to reply, but then Mom announced, “The movie’s starting,” as if Lilly had never spoken at all. “Hannah, go get the dustpan and brush, and some more popcorn. Lilly, start threading the needles. Let’s watch the movie and start stringing those garlands.”

  …

  When they got back to Justin’s house that night, they sat in her car after Justin shut it off. Lilly had to say it—she couldn’t dismiss their kisses. They’d set her heart on fire; it was inconceivable that he didn’t feel it, too. The look in his eyes when their last kiss had ended convinced her of that.

  Even if they’d said they wouldn’t allow the physical part of their relationship to progress, they couldn’t just ignore it. For one thing, that was impossible. Lilly leaned over the center console and rested her head on his shoulder. He tensed momentarily, then let her snuggle against him.

  “I’m beat,” Justin said. “This has been the longest weekend of my life.” That was Justin code for cut it out. She was positive he wanted her to stop because he wanted her to continue.

  “It was busy, that’s for sure,” Lilly said, and sighed. “I’m exhausted. And we’ve got to work tomorrow.” She turned to wrap her arm around him. He smelled so good. Mmm. Justin. Sandalwood and soap. Warm and yummy. Her body thrilled. How could she not want constant contact with him? Being with his family, and that second kiss under the mistletoe had only confirmed that for her. They were meant for each other.

  He needed convincing, that was all. Once he’d voiced his concern about the difficulty of maintaining a marriage in a cop’s world, she knew she just had to continue to
remind him that his parents were a testimony—it could work. “Justin, I wish we could…”

  He lifted her arm off of him and shrugged her head off his shoulder. “Lilly.”

  “Justin.” She sat up and narrowed her eyes at him.

  He ran his hand over his short hair. “Do you know what I’m really good at?”

  Kissing, for one. “What?” She leaned back against the seat.

  “Negotiation with the nonnegotiable. And talking suicidal people off bridges and ledges.”

  “What’s that got to do with us?”

  He frowned. “I know what you’re trying to do. You think you can convince me otherwise about us.”

  Crap. “Well, I can try. You have to admit—our kissing is kind of…well…dynamite.”

  “Yeah? Well, for me, kissing you is like jumping off a bridge.”

  Excuse me? “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

  “No more than ‘dynamite’. No, really. I mean, as long as I kept my hands off you and kept my lips to myself, I would have been fine. But now…I feel like I’m free-falling. Straight to the ground.”

  “Maybe you’ve got an imaginary bungee?” Lilly tried to joke. But her heart was sinking, fast.

  “You and me, we’re a bad idea.”

  Lilly shook her head. “How can you say that? We’re great together. Just like your parents—”

  “Lilly, the night my dad died, I heard my parents arguing.” He took a deep breath, then huffed it out so hard, she felt a breeze.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. Lots of people argue. That’s okay.” Lilly reached out to touch his arm. His muscles were tight and tense, and his expression had grown stony.

  “Yeah, but usually they don’t die the same night.”

  “I know. I know you’re afraid you’re going to end up like your dad, and I’m going to end up like your mom, but you can’t think that way, Justin.”

  He turned his head to stare out the windshield; she could see his fine profile in the cold blue glow of the nearby streetlight. “Before he left that night, my mom told him she couldn’t take living with him anymore. She wanted a divorce.”

  “Wait. What?” Not possible. Michael and Mary? A divorce? “Your mom?”

  Justin rested his chin on his chest as he looked down at his lap. “She was tired of living with a cop. She said he was too much about the job. He never stopped working. Even when he was on vacation, his mind—his whole being—was wrapped up in it.” He turned his head to peer up at her. “Can you honestly say I’m any different?”

  “Yes!” Lilly nodded, but she knew she was lying.

  So did Justin. “Attack squirrels?”

  She thought back to a couple days before when she was trying to get him to catch a snowflake. “Well…that was a joke.”

  “Not to me. You have no idea what I go through every day. And yes, I’m obnoxious about it, I’ll agree. I want to keep you safe. I see bad guys everywhere. Lilly, I had a panic attack today in a church basement. I am always on. Never off. It’s no good for anyone. Least of all you. Plus, I don’t trust anyone, except my partner. And on top of that, I’m a grouch. Or a Grinch. Or a Scrooge.”

  Lilly’s heart clenched. “You don’t trust me?”

  He leaned his head back against the tall seat of the car and stared up at the ceiling. Then he lifted her hand from her lap and appeared to study her fingernails as he rolled her fingertips between his. “Nope.”

  “But—why?” She pulled her hand from his grasp. “Never mind. Don’t answer. It’s because of what happened, isn’t it? Because my parents sent me away. You think I’m going to end up leaving you, giving up on you, just like your mom wanted to do with your dad?”

  “Your parents do it, too, you know. They rush off here and there, they pay you off, they hold you at arm’s length—”

  “I’m not like them.”

  “You could be. Right now, it’s all fun. But when the going gets tough—and it will, for both of us, because of my job—then you will want to bail. Which is fine. Except…I know how much my family means to you. So…whose side do you think they’d take?”

  Lilly blinked back tears. “Why would they have to take sides?”

  “Really, Lilly? Why even take that chance? Let’s just end this—whatever it is—right now before it goes any further. That way it won’t be an issue.”

  “But…” She trailed off as Justin opened the door and got out of the car.

  “I think it’s time I went home,” he said, and closed the door behind him. She watched him walk around the car, up the stairs, only pausing to unlock the door before going inside. He went in without looking back, without a wave, without any acknowledgment of her at all.

  Lilly sat in her car in his driveway. She watched lights go on inside the house, but he didn’t appear in the windows. She didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know how to feel. Eventually, she started the engine and drove away, the tears in her eyes making the street lights twinkle like the lights on a tree.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Come on, Saint Dick. Let’s get this party started!” O’Rourke hoisted a bag of gifts over his shoulder.

  Lilly, with Cisco as her shadow, glared at him. “We’re recording this, Officer O’Rourke. Please remember that,” she said in a no-nonsense voice, and Justin hid his grin behind his beard.

  “Ho ho ho, Officer O’Rourke. You got busted.” He lifted his own heavy sack of toys with a grunt. “What’s in here? Rocks?”

  “Toys, you boob.” His partner groaned. “I never knew toys could be so heavy.”

  “You could carry the check,” Mayor Liu pointed out as she wrestled the four-by-six-foot piece of printed Coroplast from the trunk of her car. “I don’t know why this darn thing had to be so big. Why couldn’t I have handed the woman a normal-sized check? It would have been as effective.”

  Lilly tugged at the hem of her elf dress. “Because the corporate sponsor wanted their name to be seen. This is an unprecedented act of charity, Madam Mayor. You should be proud to be part of it. No one’s ever raised so much money for the toy drive—excuse me, the now-named Christmas Fund drive—as Officer Weaver.” She squared her shoulders. Her eyes met Justin’s, but his gaze skittered away before she could hold on to it.

  She wanted to strangle him.

  Since that moment he’d booted her—there was no other word for it—out of his life, he’d been like that. Professional and completely unfriendly. He made a great Santa, but the chemistry that had existed between them, so palpable on the screen, had vanished.

  She was going to lose her chance to get the job, and it was all his fault.

  At the same time, she couldn’t blame him. He’d carried a heavier burden than she’d realized—than anyone had realized—and worst of all, he was right. He was too much about being a cop, and she had a career that she wanted to pursue…a relationship between them wouldn’t work.

  It all made sense. In her head, anyway. But her heart had other ideas. She couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways they fit together. Understood each other. Enjoyed each other’s company. She’d never felt more comfortable with any man, more complete, or happier. Even when he was being too cop-like, she knew why. He’d been in war; he had issues. Things were different nowadays. People knew about post-traumatic stress. She knew about it.

  And if she didn’t know enough, she knew how to learn about it. She could research the heck out of it, interview people, do a huge feature piece on it. Several huge feature pieces. Whatever it took.

  Everything it took. Somehow, she’d get him to believe that she wouldn’t leave and that their being together wasn’t the worse idea ever. She’d already tracked down and talked to several psychiatrists on impulse and learned it was possible that Justin was not only affected by his mother’s decision to leave, as well as his father’s unexpected death. Her disappearance after that—it was a triple whammy. Lilly couldn’t blame him for his feelings.

  And she couldn’t control her own
. Not at this close range. She squared her shoulders anyway.

  “Everybody ready?” she said. “I’m going. Cisco, I want to get good shots of the family.”

  Lilly went up the stairs.

  “Okay, Justin. Come on up and ring the bell,” she said.

  Behind the door, she heard a bang, a yell, the sound of the Crosby’s tiny dog barking uselessly, and the theme song for SpongeBob SquarePants. Sounded like a house with kids. She tried to smile.

  There came the sound of the door unlocking, and then a football-helmeted Ninja Turtle appeared. Grace—the braver and more forward of the two.

  Right now, though, the little girl just looked flabbergasted. “S-Santa? Is that you?”

  “Ho ho ho!”

  Lilly could tell Justin put his heart into his “ho ho ho.” It was Christmas, and the Crosby family was getting the full treatment. So many people had stepped forward to help this family—cops and veterans and others—that they were going to have a Merry Christmas and the happiest of Happy New Years. And there were toys for other children, too. This year’s Cop Kringle’s Ho-Ho-Ho Patrol had the largest donations on record, practically guaranteeing that Justin would be doing this gig from now until he retired. O’Rourke, at least, was thrilled.

  Max the Pomeranian barked and stood on his hind legs, waving his forepaws around furiously. He recognized Justin, who scooped him up with his free hand and tucked him under his arm. The little ball of fluff wiggled and tried to lick him under his beard, sneezing at the effort.

  “So Grace, where’s Aidan?”

  Grace’s eyes widened under the helmet. “You know my name? And my brother’s?”

  “Of course I do. I’m Santa. Can I come in?”

  “I guess.” She peered past him. “Why’d you bring a cop? Are we under arrest?”

  “It’s okay. He’s a friend of Justin’s.”

  Grace backed up so they could come in. “I like Justin. He’s my friend.”

  Mrs. Crosby appeared in the arch between the kitchen and the living room, an expression of shock on her face. And then, tears.