by Bacarr, Jina
“She meant the world to me. I’ve never known a kinder, gentler human being,” Kristen said, remembering how her aunt would feed every stray animal that found its way into her yard until its owner was found.
“I feel like I know her,” he said easily, but it was the way he said it. Tender, respectful. Odd that she should pick that up.
Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she forced herself to keep her chin up. Aunt Gertrude would have loved the sergeant, fussing at him not to track snow inside the cottage with his heavy boots while at the same time giving him a “look see” from head to toe.
She always said you could judge a man by the way he walked into a room, how he held himself. If he walked with a purpose with his head high, chin forward, then he had the courage to face whatever life would bring, good or bad. You needed that in a man, she always said, because life was as unpredictable as a ray of sunshine on a rainy day.
That thought had Kristen smiling, knowing her aunt would like Jared every bit as much as she did.
But would the older lady approve of her saucy manner?
She knew she was acting wildly provocative around him, but she was feeling so good even the blowing snowstorm rattling the rafters and the threat of foreclosure looming in her head like pickled plum fairies couldn’t take away her joy.
Jared’s hands didn’t move from around her waist. Strong, firm pressure that did nothing to calm her racing pulse. She felt strangely shy around him, as though no man had ever held her that way before. She didn’t know what to do next, so she did just that. Nothing.
She simply enjoyed it.
Not even the thought of grumpy Mr. Carey showing up to toss her out into the snow could turn down the heat simmering in her belly. Her cheeks burned and the tip of her nose, too. As red as Rudolph’s. She wasn’t used to flirting with a man, wasn’t sure where this would lead, but Kristen knew something had changed between them when Jared kissed her. Not once, but twice.
Was he playing games with her? Looking for a place to crash?
She hadn’t mentioned him leaving tonight. God, how could she? Not after the man risked his life to find Rachel.
Where would he sleep?
Ticklish thoughts skipped through her brain, making her squirm and causing the sergeant to lift an eyebrow. And hold her tighter. She almost believed he never wanted to let her go. Which, unfortunately, wouldn’t do. Even Aunt Gertrude would have a word to say about that, not to mention that Kristen was leaving herself open for criticism from the town gossips if she let him stay. Miriam Oakes would be the first to throw stones.
Yet she couldn’t turn the soldier out into the cold.
So where would this gorgeous hunk of man sleep? On her sofa, of course. He’d have to wrap his arms around big, fluffy pillows instead of her waist, but it was the best she could do. Her cheeks grew hotter thinking about the other option. Her bed. She’d love to cuddle with him on the old goose down mattress half-sinking to the floor. They’d be as close as two peas in a giant pod, but this was no time to act like a horny teenager. She’d have to so some serious soul-searching before she went that far. Convince herself it was okay to have a physical relationship with a man, that she wasn’t acting desperate because it was Christmas Eve and she was lonely.
Perspiration beaded on her upper lip. She put off making any decision.
For now.
Something else drew her attention. Something that would break the tension in the air between them. God knows, she had to do something. Whoever thought this morning when she was whipping up frosted holiday cupcakes she’d have a sexy, handsome man wanting to go bed with her by nightfall?
She couldn’t imagine how it happened in the space of a few hours unless—
Jared really was Santa Claus. Those old wives’ tales of a jolly old man were completely untrue, she decided. Made-up stories to sell toys. Santa was a hottie. Tall, dark, and perfect. Muscular and every inch of him a hero. All a girl had to do was wish for a man to love her and he delivered.
The shocking truth was, she believed it.
She prayed she wouldn’t be disappointed.
Kristen put aside her sexy thoughts and clapped her hands together when she found a big box of Christmas tree decorations way in the back of the closet. As if it was a box of magic, and it was. The holidays were a time for family to come together, she thought, when everyone ate too much, laughed too much. But a time when she felt safe and loved.
If only she could recapture those feelings tonight, Kristen prayed, pulling on the box, wondering why it was so hard to get out…the bottom must be stuck to the shelf…tugging harder…uh-oh, too hard. The sudden release of the box caught her by surprise and she lost her balance, dropping the rumpled cardboard box to the floor with a loud bang and—
Going down in a big heap with Jared’s arms wrapped tight around her, not letting her go even for an instant. Rolling over and over, coupled together like two polar bears sliding on the ice. Laughing, touching, his hands going everywhere…rolling over her hips…her thighs…her back. Oh, my God, her breasts.
He untied her apron and his fingers brushed against her hard nipples. She thought she was going to die. A lovely wave of pleasure swept through her as smooth as tumbling down a hill made of sugar. Light, airy crystals floating in the air…sending her to heaven on a cloud. She hugged him tight around the waist, her breasts pressed up against his hard chest and every vein in her body humming a holiday tune.
“Kristen,” he said, sounding like whatever was simmering in his brain was about to pop, “there’s something I have to tell you—”
“Yes, Jared,” she barely breathed.
“It’s not easy for me to explain…” he started, his voice trailing off.
“What is it? You look pretty serious for a man who’s about to deliver toys and presents to children around the world,” she teased. What did she want from Santa? To finish their kiss? Did he? She pressed her body closer to his, sliding her hand up and down his back.
“You’ve got to stop tempting me,” he joked.
“Are you sure you want me to?” she dared to tell him, though where she got the courage, she didn’t now.
“You’re so beautiful, Kristen,” he said, grabbing a wisp of hair come loose from her blonde ponytail. On impulse, she pulled off the pink elastic band and let her hair flow down her back and over her shoulders. Lying on the floor in his arms, she felt so sexy doing that, and naughty. It had just the effect she hoped. Jared ran his hand through her hair, coming dangerously close to kissing her again.
“Rachel could be watching us,” she whispered.
Her eyes shot to the sofa. Jared’s followed.
No need to worry. Rachel was comfy and warm wrapped up in her mother’s fluffy blue bathrobe and diving headfirst into the box of Christmas decorations.
Jared grinned at her and his hands gripped her tighter around the waist. She moved slightly, a low groan coming from her lips before she could stop it. She loved the warmth of his body, the way he made her feel safe. She closed her eyes, every inch of her tingling in anticipation, waiting.
Waiting…
The suspense was so bad, waiting for him to kiss her became a physical ache.
Kristen opened her eyes and felt somewhat chagrined when he didn’t, though she’d never tell him that. She was surprised to see he looked shaken. Sweat covered his tanned face, his eyes glowing with a cold fever. As if he felt guilty about wanting to kiss her again.
She leaned into him and he didn’t push her away, giving her hope, but she felt deep in her bones that something else that had nothing to do with kissing her was on his mind. Something way more personal. Which didn’t make sense. She’d never laid eyes on this man before this morning. He exhaled a deep breath, and all the pain and anguish he’d suffered escaped in a low, hoarse groan.
“Kristen…”
“Yes, Jared?”
“I should have told you this before but—”
Whatever he was going to tell her wa
s lost when Rachel let out a loud squeal.
“Mommy, Mommy, come quick!”
Kristen’s ears immediately perked up, her mom gene going into full gear. Jared jumped up and gave her a hand. She got to her feet, forgetting all about her apron undone, the long ties trailing after her.
“Rachel, what’s wrong?”
“Look what I found,” the little girl said, covering her mouth and giggling. She pulled out two five dollar bills tucked inside a pair of old red and white striped socks. “Santa’s socks.”
“God bless Aunt Gertrude,” Kristen said, relieved nothing was wrong.
“Yes, your aunt has perfect timing,” Jared said, disappointment coloring his voice a deep, husky baritone.
“At least I’ll have gas money,” Kristen said. “Seeing how Rachel and I will be living in my SUV until I can get this mortgage mess ironed out.”
“Oh, fun, Mommy,” Rachel said, jumping up and down.
“Don’t get your hopes up about camping out in your mom’s car, Rachel,” Jared said, avoiding her gaze.
What did he mean by that? His mood had changed, making her curious as to what he wanted to tell her. It couldn’t have been that important. He was bouncing around the cottage like a little boy waiting for Santa Claus.
A little boy who knew what he was getting for Christmas.
Whatever it was, he wasn’t telling. The Army sergeant didn’t seem worried about anything. Humming and laughing and telling funny stories. Whatever he was about to tell her would have to wait as he helped her pull out the Christmas decorations. Red and green garland frayed at the edges, gold and silver shiny balls, old-fashioned strings of lights, scent-filled pine cones, a red ribbon with silver bells and a beautiful angel star for the top of the tree.
“What tree, Jared?” Kristen insisted on knowing. This game had gone far enough.
“You’ll find out” was all he’d tell her, and then he sat down at the piano and started clanging on the black and white keys, playing no particular tune. God, it sounded awful, like a family of squirrels had stored their winter nuts inside.
Why was he so curious about her aunt’s old piano?
He looked at it from every angle. Lifting up the top, peering down inside, removing a loose panel from the front and then laughing to himself and slapping his knee. He was having such a good time, she didn’t say anything about his strange behavior.
After all, the man had saved her child’s life.
And hers, too.
She couldn’t go on if anything had happened to Rachel. She was her heart and soul, lighting up her life with her funny smile when she’d sit with her elbows plunked on her kids’ table, her hands holding her cheeks, so proud that she’d finished her homework. Or how adorable she looked in her pink parka with a pink ribbon in her hair.
Or when she asked her to kneel beside her at night when she said her prayers and asked God to watch over her daddy.
Kristen felt the weight of the world on her chest when her little girl ran away. She was beside herself with worry. When Jared brought her little girl home, she checked her child’s temperature, breathed a sigh of relief when the color in her cheeks came back, and then warmed her up with a heating pad and poured hot chocolate down her throat.
Of course, like all kids, Rachel was no worse for her adventure and was soon asking for her favorite peanut butter cookies.
It warmed her heart to have everything normal again. Then she caught the sergeant staring at her. What she saw in his eyes told her normal was about to change. His hazel eyes were full of mischief. A funny feeling in the pit of her stomach made her skin prickle. As if he’d planned this whole thing.
“Did I ever tell you about my Uncle Tony and his Christmas piano tree?” Jared said, picking up Rachel and bouncing the little girl on his knee. She burped. Loudly.
“Uncle Tony?” the child asked, curious.
So was Kristen.
“Yes, Jared, tell us about Uncle Tony,” she prodded him with a twinkle in her eyes.
What was he up to?
“He was a mighty fine carpenter,” Jared said, embarking on a tale. “He could whittle so fast, his fingers disappeared before your eyes.” He shook his fingers wildly through the air, making Rachel’s eyes widen.
“What’s a carpenter?” Rachel asked, finishing her hot chocolate down to the last drop.
“He uses a hammer and nails and wood to make things.”
“Oh…” she said, thinking.
“Like this piano.” Jared sat Rachel down on the piano bench. He motioned for Kristen to join them.
“Your uncle made pianos?” Kristen asked, plopping the red Santa cap she’d found in the Christmas box on Rachel’s head, making her giggle. She wondered what he was planning to do with the holiday decorations scattered over her knitted rug.
“No,” he admitted. “Uncle Tony made chairs and tables and chests, and one year he made me a sling shot.” He made a popping sound with his mouth. “But his favorite time of year was Christmas when he would carve small animals out of wood for the children in the neighborhood.”
He picked up a red satin Christmas ball and spun it around in a circle, mesmerizing Rachel. She sat there with her mouth open, but Kristen wasn’t fooled. He was leading up to this moment and she had a feeling it was a good one.
“One Christmas,” he continued, “the nuns from the village school were so poor they had no tree. So Uncle Tony carved a small wooden tree from deep mahogany and placed it on top of their old piano. The children had so much fun hanging tinsel from its branches, they decorated the piano, too.
“They called it the Christmas piano tree.”
The hint of a smile told her he’d made up the whole story, making her grin, that “Uncle Tony” didn’t exist anywhere but in his imagination. But that didn’t stop Jared from picking up the shiny green garland and draping it over the piano keys until it glistened.
Then he added a beautiful wreath made of gold and red satin ribbon and turned to her, his eyes deepening as dark as a midnight sky. He leaned his shoulder against hers, his warmth unsettling her, but also filling her up. A whirl of emotions from holidays past carried her along on a magic carpet ride here in her own living room.
Christmases with Aunt Gertrude and Scott…the laughter, the hugging, the excitement of opening presents. Jared brought it all back to her in a way that wasn’t as painful as before. It wasn’t just the fun he had in embarking on his wild tale that impressed her, but the earnestness he showed in telling his tale went way beyond storytelling. He showed a deep sense of human emotion for family she wouldn’t have expected from a man who was homeless.
Or was he? Somehow, she didn’t believe that.
“I want to decorate the tree, too,” cried Rachel, getting into the spirit. She grabbed the red ribbon with tinkling bells and sat down on the rug, wrapping it around the legs on the piano bench.
“It’s a charming story, Jared,” said Kristen, nudging him in the ribs and going along with him for Rachel’s sake. “But what does it have to do with my aunt’s piano?” Resting her chin in her hands, she was as starry-eyed as Rachel, waiting to hear what came next.
“It’s simple, Kristen,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Sort of.”
He dragged his fingers along the piano keys, his action way too intense for a man who just a minute ago had them both laughing. He couldn’t look her in the eye. Seemed this big, handsome soldier was stuck on how the story ended.
She waited, his determination to come up with the right ending had her on the edge of the piano bench. She was so close to him, she could smell the fresh pine still clinging to his clothes, see his muscles bulging under his white T-shirt, feel the heat emanating from his body in a way she’d forgotten was distinctly male.
She didn’t want to move.
Finally, he cleared his throat, and then continued with a huskiness in his voice that pulled at her insides. “I’ve got the ending to the story.”
“Yes?” she coaxed him.
“So why not a Christmas Piano Tree?” Kristen finished for him without missing a beat, as if it was the most natural thing to do. She laid her hand on his arm and felt him flinch. It hadn’t been easy for him. The big hunk was sweating overtime, grateful for her help in winding up his fanciful yarn.
It was so obvious he was making this up as he went along, but she loved it. She was curious, though. Why tell the tall tale? Unless he wanted to cheer them up.
She locked gazes with him and her heart skipped a beat. No, there was something else. The look on his face told her he was holding something back from her.
Something important.
Her throat went dry. Sensing he was about to reveal it to her, she braced herself, though for what she didn’t know. His mood had changed again. She stared at him as if he were the prince in a fairytale and he could take her away from the heartache and loneliness she’d known since she lost Scott. A girlish fantasy she knew couldn’t be true, but she wanted it to be so. Wanted it badly.
“This is a special piano tree,” Jared said, leaning toward her. His thigh burned against hers, sending wild thoughts through her that had nothing to do with Christmas trees.
“Are you sure?” Kristen asked, nearly choking on the words. She had to stop the sexy, wild thoughts swirling in her head and concentrate.
“As sure as I am that St. Nick will be stopping by here tonight,” Jared said with a wink.
For the life of her, Kristen couldn’t figure out what crazy idea danced in his head. How could the piano be special? It had stood in the same spot on the old knitted rug since she was a little girl.
Nothing special about it unless—
Her cheeks flushed as she glanced at the old mahogany upright. A sharp pain in her side made her take fault with herself.
Guilt.
Of course, the piano was special. How could she act so selfish, thinking only of her own problems? The musical instrument held a special place in her aunt’s heart. A daily reminder of the man she loved. Every time Aunt Gertrude swept her airy feather duster over the keys, she’d smile and chuckle to herself. As if hearing in her head the lively tunes her husband played just for her.