A Wedding for Christmas (Sweet Holiday Romance) (A Veteran's Christmas Book 3)

by Rachelle Ayala

  “I don’t want to put you in a grave dilemma.” Kelly’s shoulders sagged, and she let out a resigned sigh. “If you want to go back to her, I’ll have to let you go.”

  “You don’t mean that.” Tyler grasped her by the hands. “You’re not going to throw away everything we have because I’m worried about an old friend. You have to know that you’re the woman I love.”

  “But you worry about her.” She pulled away from him and walked around the rooftop, taking deep breaths.

  “I worry about you, too, Kel. But you’re not the one who’s going to kill yourself. You’re strong. She’s not.”

  “How do you know she’s not strong? Maybe she doesn’t really want to kill herself. She only wants your attention.”

  “That’s not true. It’s real what she feels. The survivor’s guilt. The pain of loss, of things that can never be. The recurring loop playing in her head. The fear that you’ll never be okay again. I worry about her because I’ve been exactly like her.” Tyler held his head in his hands and paced across the deck to the rail. “I never told you, but I’ve had those dark nights when I felt so guilty about the boy I shot, I couldn’t stand the sight of my own face. I channeled all of it into helping others, but sometimes, I wondered if I was a fake, that I was only doing good deeds to run from my bad deeds.”

  “You shot a suicide bomber. It wasn’t your fault he was a kid.” Kelly’s face twisted with concern. “And you never told me you wanted to—”

  “There were times when I stood on the Golden Gate Bridge and wondered if the world would be better without me.”

  “Oh, Tyler.” She charged toward him and wrapped her arms around him. “I never knew. I thought it was only the flashbacks.”

  He allowed himself to melt into her and they stood, swaying and comforting each other. He swallowed the lump in his throat and closed his eyes, letting the scent of her shampoo calm him. She was everything good and hopeful in his life. She and her daughter were the ones who pulled him back from the abyss.

  “That day you walked in with the Christmas cookies.” His voice was gruff as it eked from his tight throat. “I couldn’t believe you came to see me. It was the lowest day of my life.”

  She rubbed his back, now taking the role of comforter. “I thought about you alone with no one to care about you.”

  “Well, yeah, that was pretty much how it was before you stepped in the door.” He gazed into her watery eyes. “I can still see you now, coming into the room with a pink plastic container. You thought I was going to bite your head off.”

  “You were pretty gruff.”

  “Yeah, well, my body was reacting to yours. Entirely inappropriately. You wore tight white pants and an almost see-through turquoise top. It was like seeing a goddess at an oasis after crawling through the desert on my hands and knees.”

  She shook her head and smiled, lowering her eyelids. “You almost jumped out of your skin when I touched your tattoo.”

  “That’s when I knew you were my lifeline.”

  “But you shot me down when I asked you to church.”

  “I showed up, didn’t I?” He tickled the side of her face. “I couldn’t stay away. I fell in love with the angel bearing crooked Christmas cookies. The rest of it is convincing you I’m worth it.”

  She grasped his hand and caressed it. “You are worth everything my heart has to offer. It is I who am selfish and wanting more. I need to ask God to help me accept that you will always belong to the world, not to me.”

  Her words warmed him, but also made the lump in his throat grow. She needed him, despite her being strong and keeping everything going. She hated asking for help, but it wasn’t help she needed. She deserved a strong partner who’d have her back and hold her arms up when she got tired.

  “I belong to you, Kelly. Without you, I’d be useless to everyone else. I might not be the brightest in knowing when to give you a hand, but you only have to ask and I’ll stay at your side. No one else matters. You believe that, don’t you?”

  She lifted her face and nodded, the full moon reflected in her greenish-brown eyes. “I get it now. You belong to me and we both belong to the world. We’re a team.”

  “Much more than a team. We’re one heart, joined together. I’m useless without you.” He dipped his face and pressed his lips over hers. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Her voice vibrated against his lips.

  He kissed her, almost reverently, grateful that he was able to reaffirm their love and commitment despite all the craziness going on in their lives.

  “Come to bed now,” he whispered, taking her hand.

  “I’d love to, but I have to go.”

  “What?” He jerked his head back, wondering what planet he was on. “Where are you going?”

  “Sawyer’s apartment.” She touched his face, caressing him. “While you might have experience with PTSD, I have more experience calming someone down. I’m going to take care of Zulu and make sure she’s safe.”

  “But, the kids. Bree’s appointment.”

  A smile stretched across her lips, and she winked. “You promised to take her to the doctor and do all of the daycare duty this week, didn’t you?”

  23

  ~ Kelly ~

  This is crazy. Insane. But I will never forgive myself if something happens to Zulu. Tyler made a bold sacrifice to leave her alone, because he wanted to show me I was first. Now, I have to alleviate his worries and show him I, too, care about his friend.

  Leaving Brownie with her is not a great idea. What can a dog do if a woman is determined to kill herself? I’d rest much easier if Zulu was checked into a secure rehab facility, and that’s what I’m going to look into as soon as I can. But first, I have to assure myself she’ll last through the night.

  Tyler didn’t want me to go, but since we couldn’t leave the kids alone, he had no choice but to hand over the keys. I arrive at Sawyer’s place a little after midnight.

  “Brownie,” I speak in a low voice as I unlock the door. “Good dog.”

  He huffs from behind the door, letting me know he recognizes me. He doesn’t sound as if there’s a crisis or anything, but then, being a dog from Afghanistan, he’s probably used to death and blood.

  I open the door a crack, and Brownie’s wet nose touches my hand. Before I can peek in, the door is pulled wider.

  “Tyler, you’re back.” Zulu’s eyes widen and she backs away when she realizes it’s me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see if you need anything. Are you doing okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She bobs her head sharply and cranes her neck, looking over my shoulder. “Is Tyler coming back?”

  “He has to watch the kids, but I can spend the night and keep you company.” I slide into the apartment and shut the door behind me.

  Brownie wags his tail and licks my hand, greeting me.

  “I’m doing okay.” She blinks and her eyes dart around the room. “Trying to sleep. But I’m too wired. Drank too much coffee.”

  “Then maybe we can talk.” I set my overnight bag on the floor. I notice all the cabinet doors are wide open, and so is the coat closet. It’s one of my pet peeves, so I move to close everything.

  “Don’t close those doors,” she shrieks. “I don’t want anyone sneaking in on me.”

  She reminds me of Bree when she used to be scared someone was hiding in the closet. But I understand. This is much more serious. She’s afraid of being attacked.

  “I’m sure Brownie will warn you if anyone tries to get in,” I say as I reopen the closet door. “How’d the therapy go today?”

  She wrings her hands and paces around the coffee table. “Why do you care? Why did you come?”

  “Tyler was worried about you being alone tonight, so I thought I’d keep you company. Have you thought about checking into a residential rehab? Then you’d have a roommate and you can help each other.”

  “I don’t want to be locked up with another lunatic.” Zulu stops in front
of me. “I’m coping just fine here.”

  “Actually, this here isn’t a long term plan,” I remind her. “The rehab facilities have professionals who can help you around the clock.”

  Her eyes narrow. “I’m not as crazy as you think. Sure, I had a weak moment when I thought all was lost, but don’t stand there looking at me like I’m some kind of cosmic cause for you.”

  “I only want to help.” I try to put a hand on her shoulder, but she ducks away from me. “I’m worried about you.”

  “The only thing you’re worried about is Tyler and me. You’re here to find out what happened between us last night.”

  “I’m sure nothing happened.” I speak as nonchalantly as I can. “He’s an honorable man, and he wouldn’t do anything inappropriate.”

  “If you really believed that, you wouldn’t be here.” A hint of a smile curls her lips.

  Somehow I get the feeling she’s either amused or trying to bait me. Both symptoms mean she’s not about to hang herself just yet.

  “I believe you might have a crush on him, but I can assure you I'm the one he loves and the one he’s marrying.” I puff myself up and not exactly tower over her, although thank goodness I am a few inches taller than her.

  “Happy to hear you’re so sure of yourself.” She closes her eyes partway and shakes her head. “I’m sure you’re a busy woman, and I appreciate you coming over to keep me company.”

  She’s trying to be flippant, but her voice is unsteady and she wobbles when she picks up the remote for the TV.

  “You’re not going to sleep?” I ask, sitting down on the couch. I know she wants to get rid of me, but tough. She needs to see herself as a strong woman, and having me here will challenge her. Besides, her little trick of using her fears to wrap Tyler around her little finger just backfired.

  “Told you, I’m not sleepy.” She settles on the other side of the couch and flicks on the TV.

  “Guess I’ll stay up with you.” I can be just as stubborn as her. There’s no way I’m going home with my tail tucked between my legs and having Tyler feel he should have been the one to keep Zulu company. “What do you want to watch? Drama? Action? Thriller? I heard Dr. Strange was good.”

  Zulu rolls her eyes. “Too much fighting. Triggering, remember? And no Christmas movies, please.”

  “What’s so triggering about reindeer and elves?”

  She rolls he eyes. “Nothing. I can line them all up and shoot them. But I can do without a fat guy sneaking down my chimney.”

  “That is kind of creepy if you think about it,” I agree. “Since I’m about to get married, how about 27 Dresses, The Wedding Pact, My Best Friend’s Wedding.” I rattle off a series of romantic comedies sure to underscore my position as bride to Tyler Manning.

  “Only if you’re going to do The Runaway Bride.” She lifts her lips in a smirk and shoots me a sideways glance.

  “Not a chance.” I cross my arms resolutely. “I know a good thing when I have it. As for movies, how about strong women? I’m sure we can agree to that.”

  “Sick of strong women.” She snickers. “People like Katniss Everdeen never really had anything bad happen to them.”

  “Fine, then we’re left with either middle-aged women who can’t get a man or Disney. There’s Frozen and Finding Dory.”

  “Please, how old do you think I am?” She rolls her eyes and flicks to the romantic comedy list.

  “I’m getting a drink.” I march to the kitchen. “Care for wine or beer?”

  “You forget, I’m Muslim.” She follows me and so does Brownie.

  “Then enjoy your soft drink.” I yank the refrigerator door almost off its hinges and hand her a can of soda. “Nights like this call for red wine. Too bad you can’t have any.”

  I almost make a snide remark that she’s forgotten to prop the refrigerator open, but decide that would be going too far.

  “Well, heck, I’m not a child.” She slams the can of Coke on the counter and goes to the cabinet, producing two wine glasses. “I agree. Pour me a glass.”

  “I thought you’re Muslim.” I wag a finger at her. “Doesn’t your prophet prohibit wine?”

  “Only for the women. Who are all going to hell anyway, according to the mullahs.” She digs under Sawyer’s cabinet and comes up with a bottle. “I hate sharia law. So, fill it up.”

  I uncork the bottle, which is not an expensive one, and fill up our wine glasses. So far, so good. We haven’t torn each other’s throats out. “Sorry, Brownie, it’s water for you.”

  “Now that we have wine, let’s watch middle-aged bad girls.” Zulu plops herself on the couch. “You over thirty?”

  “Barely, and you?”

  She clinks her wine glass with mine. “Same here.”

  We sit back as she scrolls through the comedy genre.

  “That one!” I tell her to stop. “Absolutely Fabulous. Ella said she couldn’t stop laughing on her last flight back from London. Woke up her seatmates and they hated her.”

  Two hours later, we were best friends. We laughed, we drank, we kicked up our heels, and we danced together like Edwina and Pasty.

  “I ought to go into public relations,” Zulu says. “I’m sick and tired of being triggered by everything and needing safe zones. I’m not a stinking wimp.”

  “You’re definitely a bad ass.”

  “I know, right? Middle-aged women have balls!” She whoops and spills some of her wine. “We’ll smoke, drink, and traipse across Europe. I deserve it, because I survived.”

  My head is whirling and I can’t stop laughing. The scenes from the movie run through my mind. “Although I’d stop at marrying an heiress.”

  “Not if it means a trip to Cannes, for free.” She pretends to twirl a fake mustache. “Let’s ditch your wedding and go for it.”

  “Not quite.” I holler with laughter. “We have to bring Tyler along to carry the luggage.”

  “And drive.”

  “And cook.”

  “And take care of your kids.”

  “Right. No more work for me.” I empty the last of the wine between us. “I’ve always been way too serious.”

  “No more sticking in the mud.”

  “Nope, but I’m sleepy.” I yawn loudly. “Do we have to take Brownie on his last walk?”

  “We’d better, before he craps on the rug.” She loops her arm over my shoulder. “Come on, Patsy, off we go.”

  “Just don’t push me into the bay, Edwina.” I slur as I attach Brownie’s leash.

  24

  ~ Kelly ~

  “I can’t believe you got Zulu drunk.” Tyler meets me for lunch after taking Bree to the doctor. He drops two sandwiches on the bistro table and two cups of extra strong coffee.

  I palm my aching head and groan. All morning, my eyes ached and watered at the long set of slides Colin presented at the meeting, on my behalf, because no one expected me to show up at work.

  “I’m so hung over.” I grab the coffee cup and blow on it.

  “Well, at least you two got through the night. Did she have any episodes?” Tyler dumps sugar in his cup and stirs vigorously.

  “Not if you count waking up clutching her belly and laughing at me hysterically and calling me Patsy.” I rub the palm of my hand into my aching temple.

  “It’s an act. She’s overcompensating. Not letting you see her weaknesses.” The edges of Tyler’s lips turn down as he unwraps his sandwich. “The night I stayed with her, she woke up screaming several times. She was afraid to go back to sleep and we had to turn on all the lights and check under the bed, behind every door, and she was convinced someone was hiding in the coat closet.”

  “She still has those rituals, but I think she didn’t want me to see her weaknesses.” I lift my chin and sniff. “It’s better for her to feel like she’s competing with me. Keeps her from being such a crybaby.”

  “PTSD isn’t so easily solved. She’s putting on a brave front.” Tyler’s shoulders hunch, and I feel for him, remembering all the
tough nights he had.

  “I know that, and she’s going to get help.” I let the hot coffee wash down my throat. “She seemed calm this morning. Either that, or she didn’t want me to think she had a hangover.”

  “You shouldn’t have been drinking with her.” Tyler’s brows lower in a frown. “Last night, Bree woke up and wanted to know where you were.”

  Guilt immediately drapes its heavy blanket over me, and I simmer down. “How’d she do at the doctor’s?”

  “They took a blood sample.” Tyler scratches his head. “The weird thing is they already did a test on her and have a preliminary match.”

  “They did? How?” I set the coffee cup down, sloshing coffee onto the table. “Do you think the clinic gave them a DNA sample?”

  “It’s possible. Did you give permission?”

  I shake my groggy head and rack my brain. “I don’t think so, but with the amount of small print, who knows?”

  “Dr. Debdatta said today’s visit was to confirm that Bree is indeed the person they think she is. If she’s a match, we need to make a decision and sign the consent.”

  I close my eyes and steady myself. I’m not ready for any major decisions. After getting only a few hours of sleep, I dropped Zulu off at the VA and rushed home to find everyone gone. I staggered into work late, but since no one expected me, I was able to sneak into the back of the meeting.

  Colin was articulate and bright, and my boss was happy with his presentation. Of course, no one gave me credit for coaching him and providing all the data on the slides.

  I take another sip of the coffee and realize Tyler is waiting for an answer. “When will they let us know if it’s a go?”

  “This evening.” Tyler is ready with the answer. “They put a rush on it.”

  “Did they tell you who the recipient is?”

  “Nope.”

  “I kind of want to know. It feels so cloak and dagger that they don’t want to come out in the open.” My stomach growls, and I unwrap the sandwich.

  “I thought you didn’t want Bree to know who fathered her,” Tyler says. “Why would you want to know?”