A Kiss for Christmas

by Melody Grace

  My gaze goes back to Sophie. I pause. The snow is just the kind of thing she’ll love. I remember talking about the holidays, and the wistful note in her voice as she described her perfect Christmas. It’s not my style to go for big romantic gestures, I’ve never needed to try. Being a rock star comes with a “get out of jail free” card when it comes to making an effort for a woman: a backstage pass is usually all it takes to make their day.

  But Sophie is different. She doesn’t know about my fame—and something tells me she wouldn’t even care if she did. It’ll take something bigger to put a smile on her face, but suddenly, that’s all I want to do today. Make her light up the way she did when I showed her the park last night, and give her the Christmas of her dreams.

  Even if it isn’t the one either of us planned.

  An idea takes hold, and doesn’t let go. I grab some sweatpants and pull on a T-shirt, then drop a kiss on her forehead and head out the door. I’ve got a Christmas miracle to plan.

  Sophie

  I had the best dream of my life last night. It was like something out of a movie: snow and city streets, the glow of street-lamps and laughter…

  Magic.

  I yawn, stretching. I can feel myself waking up, but I fight to stay in the blissful haze: the memory of a strange man’s hands on my body, and his sultry Southern drawl whispering wicked things in my ear—

  Suddenly, it all comes rushing back to me. Austin. Me. Here, in this bed.

  Oh!

  I sit up with a jolt, my heart racing. I look around, but I’m alone in the bed; the suite is silent, empty.

  I’m all alone.

  A shiver of insecurity ripples through me. I hug the blankets around my bare shoulders, wondering where he’s gone. I’ve never really had a one-night stand before, or hooked up with a stranger like this, so I don’t know what happens now. Am I supposed to clear out of here before he comes back? What if there’s a whole set of “morning after” rules I’m breaking right now?

  I don’t want to leave.

  The knowledge makes me pause, realizing the truth. Sure, Austin was a charming stranger back when we first met in the bar; I asked him out looking for distraction, a way to forget Matt’s cowardly betrayal. But somewhere between the deli and the bar; the late-night walk through New York, and all our conversation, we both opened up to each other. He stopped being that handsome playboy, and became someone real.

  Someone good.

  And then he went and showed me the best sex of my entire life.

  I smile at the memory. Even when I freaked out and let all my old ghosts wreck the moment, he didn’t judge me. He was kind and understanding…and then hot as hell. Yes, what happened with Matt is behind me now, and Austin has proven without a doubt that my ex-boyfriend’s issues have nothing to do with me.

  But he’s done this with a hundred women, I remind myself sternly. Don’t go getting sentimental over a guy who was only ever meant to be a fling.

  I decide not to sit around waiting for him to get back from wherever he went. I gather my clothes from where they’re scattered on the floor, and go take a shower in the massive en-suite bathroom. As I rinse off under the steaming power jets, I try to practice my best nonchalant smile.

  “Sure, I have a busy day planned, too. See you around, sometime. Maybe.”

  I laugh. It sounds ridiculous out loud. In fact, this whole situation is ridiculous. If you’d told me twenty-four hours ago that instead of snuggling up for hot cocoa with my boyfriend, I’d be waking after a night of scorching hot sex with a total stranger, I would have referred you to one of my counseling hotline coworkers for therapy. But here I am.

  And I feel good.

  I use the luxurious shower gel to soap up my tired limbs. My body feels like I just ran a marathon, but in the best way: every ache reminds me of Austin’s body, pressing me into the mattress; his strong arms pinning me down, gripping me in place as he surged deep inside me…

  “Want some company?”

  I yelp, spinning around. Austin is holding the shower door open, his eyes roving over my naked body from head to toe. His lips curl in a wicked grin. “I could soap those hard to reach spots,” he adds.

  I shut off the jets, my heart still pounding. “You startled me!” I protest, pretending it was the shock that’s made my pulse race, and not the nearness of him. He’s dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, but he looks like a million dollars: his chocolate brown hair falling messily over his eyes, and stubble creeping along his chiseled jaw.

  “Let me make it up to you.” Austin slides his hands around my naked waist and draws me closer. He kisses me slowly, exploring every inch of my mouth with his expert tongue, and despite my secret promises to stay detached now that the night is over, I can’t help but melt against him.

  He kisses like a god. A hot, gorgeous, sexy god…

  “Mmm.” Austin makes a low noise of satisfaction, pulling away from me. His eyes drift lower, over my body, and he grins. “It’s a good thing we’re on a schedule, otherwise I would be doing all kinds of things to this beautiful body right now.”

  I blush, grabbing for a towel. I wrap it around myself, then my brain catches up to my body. “Wait, what schedule?”

  “Get dressed and you’ll see.” He winks.

  “My clothes are all in my room,” I point out. Not to mention all my makeup and beauty products…I sneak a look in the mirror, but it’s too steamed-up to tell what I look like right now. A mess, probably.

  “Then borrow some of mine.” Austin goes out into the bedroom and pulls a clean shirt and pair of drawer-string sweatpants from his bag. He tosses them over. “These should work?”

  “What?” I burst out laughing, holding up the pants. I could fit into them twice over. “I can’t go out in these, Austin, come on.”

  “We’re not going out,” he says mysteriously. “Come on, Sophie. It’s Christmas. Live a little.”

  He grins at me, full of boyish enthusiasm, and I can’t help but be charmed. He was such a grinch about the holidays when we talked yesterday, I wonder what’s changed his mind.

  “OK,” I agree, wriggling into my underwear and tugging on his clothes. I barely have time to pull my hair back into a messy bun before he’s grabbing my hand and tugging me to the door. I’m still barefoot, and when we reach the hallway, I realize he is too. “Where are we going?” I ask, breathless, as he pulls me into the elevator and hits the ground floor button. “Austin, what’s going on?”

  “The whole point of a surprise is that you don’t know,” he laughs, dropping a kiss on my lips. It’s the lightest touch, but it fills my body with heat. The elevator arrives, and he pulls me out. “This way!”

  I follow him across the lobby, laughing now, my bare feet cool on the marble floors. It’s empty in the early-morning light, save the woman on reception who just smiles and waves as Austin and I race past. He pulls me down a hallway, and through a door marked “Staff Only.”

  “Are we allowed?” I ask, following him deeper into the rabbit hole of hotel hallways.

  “I called in a favor,” Austin grins. “I can be very persuasive.”

  That’s an understatement. I laugh. Nobody else could get me racing through a hotel first thing on Christmas morning in baggy sweatpants and un-brushed hair. But Austin’s enthusiasm is infectious, and I can’t wait to see what he’s got in store.

  “Close your eyes,” he orders me, coming to a stop outside a pair of swinging double doors. I do as he says, letting him lead me slowly into the next room. It’s warmer in here, and I can hear the clatter of activity and noise. My curiosity grows. I can’t imagine where he’s taken me, or what this big surprise is all about.

  “OK.” Austin carefully guides me a few more steps ahead, his hands on my waist nudging me into direction. “You can open them…now!”

  I blink, looking around. We’re in the hotel kitchens, full of light and activity. Chefs and busboys are busy working, assembling breakfast trays and prep work for the day ahea
d, but Austin has set up a corner away from the bustle. There’s a table set with ingredients and cookie cutters, and already, the smell of festive spices fills the air: ginger, cloves, nutmeg.

  He brings out his phone, hits a button, and then music begins to play. Bing Crosby crooning “White Christmas.”

  I blink, suddenly overwhelmed.

  “It’s your perfect Christmas morning,” Austin prompts me, looking pleased. “You wanted to wake up to the smell of cookies and…”

  “Classic Christmas songs,” I finish. I can’t believe it. I look around, swallowing back a sudden rush of emotion. “Austin, I can’t believe you did this for me!”

  “Hey, it’s like you said.” Austin looks bashful. “It’s time we made some holiday traditions of our own.”

  We.

  I try not to focus on the casual way he said it—or how my heart swells at the mention. Right now, this is enough: the music playing softly, butter and eggs waiting beside the industrial-sized mixer, and the dusting of powdered sugar already misting the air.

  He arranged all this for me, for my perfect Christmas morning.

  “What are you waiting for?” I swallow back the lump in my throat, and push up the sleeves on his oversized shirt. “Let’s get baking!”

  The cookies are only the beginning. After we bake a batch and decorate them with frosting and tiny silver balls, we leave a plate by the front desk for the other guests to enjoy. Austin tells me to dress warmly, and when the cab drops us off outside the skating rink at Rockefeller Plaza, I let out a shriek of delight.

  “Ice skating?” I feel like a little kid again, birthdays and Christmas all rolled into one.

  Austin smiles. “It was next on the list, wasn’t it?”

  I look at him anew as we head to the kiosk to get our passes. When I told him about my Serendipity holiday daydreams, I never imagined that he would bring them to life for me. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to pay attention like that, let alone go to all this effort.

  There’s so much more to him than meets the eye.

  “What do you think, festive enough for you?” Austin teases as we lace up our skates.

  I laugh. “Just about.” The rink is beautiful, the glossy ice lit up, with colored lights strung around the edges, and the biggest tree I’ve ever seen towering over us all. Families skate together, couples glide hand in hand, bundled up in coats and scarves against the cold.

  “I’ve never skated before,” I warn him as we strap on our skates. “I had Barbie roller-skates in third grade, but I’m guessing this is kind of different.”

  “Don’t worry,” he tells me, helping me to my feet. “You can hold onto me.”

  It’s not an invitation I’m going to turn down, not with Austin looking so good in his coat and scarf, smiling at me with wicked invitation in his eyes.

  We whirl around the rink together, hand-in-hand. It takes me a little while to adjust to the skates, but even once I find my feet, I don’t let go. “How are you so good?” I ask, as Austin switches effortlessly to skating backwards, holding my hands in his.

  He shrugs. “My mom worked weekends when I was a kid, so she’d leave me and my sister at the local rink to keep out of trouble.”

  “I’m guessing you still found plenty.” I smile.

  He laughs. “Guilty as charged. That was before I picked up a guitar,” he adds. “After that, you couldn’t have dragged me out of my bedroom for a million bucks. Music became my obsession.”

  “And here you are,” I say happily. “It looks like it worked out for you.”

  “I guess it did.” Austin’s eyes meet mine. For a moment, it looks like he’s about to say something. Then I catch sight of some girls over by the railings. They’re looking at him and whispering to each other. I smile.

  “You’ve got some admirers,” I tease him. I don’t blame the girls for staring: he’s the most gorgeous man on the ice.

  But instead of laughing it off, Austin looks uncomfortable. “Come on,” he says, tugging my hands. He skates faster, pulling me along so quickly the rink becomes a blur of color and motion. I gasp for air, exhilarated. He doesn’t look behind him to check, just speeds backwards, trusting everyone will just get out of our way.

  “Austin!” I protest, hanging on tight.

  “Just hold on,” he laughs. My heart is racing, and I can’t tell how much is from the speed, and how much is just the rush of him. It feels like I’m flying, the chilled air sharp against my skin, the lights glittering all around us. And in the center of it all, Austin is holding me tightly, his gaze fixed on mine. Faster, faster we go—

  My skate snags the ice. I yelp as I lose my balance and knock straight into Austin. There’s no time to steady ourselves, or even think straight. We tumble to the ground, hitting the hard ice with a THUMP.

  “Owww,” I groan, catching my breath. Luckily, Austin cushioned most of my fall. “Are you OK?” I start to scramble off him.

  “Just fine.”

  Suddenly, Austin grabs my waist and rolls me under him, so I’m pinned against the ice. The length of his body is a delicious weight, and his eyes are smiling with a private joke as he slowly leans down to kiss me.

  He tastes like sugar cookies and frosting, his lips as burning hot as the ice pressed against my back.

  I fall into the kiss, and hope this magic weekend lasts forever.

  Austin

  After ice skating, I take her to the cafe, Serendipity 3, from that movie she loves. Even with the streets deserted, there’s a line ten-deep waiting for a table.

  Sophie’s face falls. “We can go to some other place,” she says, in a voice that tells me she’s got her heart set on this particular mug of frozen hot chocolate at this particular cafe.

  “Wait here, let me see if they can squeeze us in.” I leave her standing in line and I make my way up to the hostess. “Hi,” I start, flashing her my best rock-star grin. For the first time all day, I’m glad someone recognizes me: the woman’s eyes widen, and she flushes with excitement.

  “Hi… Um, hi.” She stutters. “Austin. Wow. I’m a big fan.”

  Good.

  I lean over the desk and drop my voice. “So, here’s the thing,” I tell her, “my friend and I are running kind of late, but we’d love to grab a table. Is there any way at all you could squeeze us in?”

  She bites her lip. “I don’t know…” she checks the line behind us, full of eager tourists all jostling for a spot.

  “For me?” I wink. She blushes again.

  “OK, those guys are just leaving.” She nods to a table in the corner. “I can fit you in if you’re quick.”

  “You’re an angel,” I smile. “Here, write down your details, and I’ll hook you up with some tickets when we’re next in town.”

  “Really?” She brightens. “That would be so cool. I would just die if I got to meet Dex—” She catches herself. “I mean, I like you too, but—”

  “That’s OK,” I laugh. “I’ll have him give you a call, how about that?”

  She practically swoons right there behind the desk. Mission accomplished, I beckon Sophie over. “They found our reservation, sweetie,” I say loudly, when the middle-aged guy behind us starts to grumble. I feel guilty for a moment about skipping the line, but the glow on Sophie’s face as we head to our table makes it all worthwhile.

  “Put his bill on my tab,” I tell the hostess quietly. “In fact, everyone we just skipped. I’ll take care of it all.”

  “Of course,” she nods eagerly. “Anything else?”

  “We’re set, thank you.”

  I turn back to Sophie to find her smirking at me with a knowing expression.

  “What?” I ask, sliding into the booth. For a moment, I wonder if my cover is blown and she’s figured out my real identity, but instead, she just grins.

  “You charm the pants off everyone, don’t you?”

  “There’s only one set of pants I want to get into.” I waggle my eyebrows.

  She bursts out laughing.
“Real smooth.”

  I watch her across the table as she scans the menu, her pretty eyes darting over the page. I should come clean to her, I know, and tell her who I really am, but I’m enjoying this too much. It’s been years since I could relax, and be myself with a woman like this, and not wonder in the back of my brain if they’re really just here for the status and fame. I never minded it really— hell, what red-blooded guy doesn’t love the fact girls fall at his feet?—but being with Sophie is so refreshing that I realize I’ve been missing out.

  She likes me. Not my record deal, or the VIP passes, being able to brag to her friends, or get her name in the gossip columns.

  Just me.

  Sophie glances up, and catches me staring. She raises her eyebrows. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I lie.

  I’ll tell her later, I promise myself. For now, I don’t want anything to ruin this day.

  It’s afternoon by the time we head back to the hotel. Already, it’s getting dark out, the streetlights flickering to life over the quiet, snow-dusted streets.

  “I’ve never seen the city so empty,” I say, looking around. “Everybody’s probably taking a nap in front of the TV right now, stuffed with Christmas dinner.”

  “A nap sounds pretty good.,” Sophie snuggles closer against me. I wrap my arm around her and think of lying on the couch with her and watching old movies. Twenty-four hours ago it would have seemed like a drag, but now, I can’t wait to get back to the hotel and just relax.

  “I can’t believe you ordered all that food to go.” Sophie nudges me, looking at the huge bag I’m carrying in my other hand. “We just ate a ton!”

  “You’ll be thanking me later.” I draw her closer. “I plan on us working up an appetite.”

  Sophie smirks. “You mean hitting the gym? Going for a run? You go right ahead,” she says sweetly. “I’ll be waiting in my pajamas when you get back.”