Once Again In Christmas Falls (Return To Christmas Falls Book 3)

by Becky Monson

  It was . . . perfect. My heart was beating in my chest and my stomach was swirling with that delicious feeling of butterflies that happens when everything feels right. And it did feel right, almost too right. Warmth spread through me from head to toe, and I felt weak and strong at the same time. This was so much better than the kisses my pathetic girly brain had conjured up over the past few days.

  We kissed for a while like this, like we were making up for lost time. Then the movements of our lips started taking on a slower pace, less frenzied and lust filled, moving into something more tender and gentle. When Andy finally pulled his mouth away and rested his forehead on mine, we were both breathless, and I felt lightheaded, almost drunk on all the feelings that were rushing through me.

  I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t want to open them; I didn’t want this to end. I didn’t know what would come next, and that frightened me because I knew things would be different between us now, and it would be hard to go back. I didn’t want to go back.

  My arms still wrapped around him, I could suddenly feel Andy’s body trembling. I pulled my head away and opened my eyes to see him doing that thing where you’re trying so hard to hold in laughter that your body is shaking from it.

  “Are you laughing?” I felt something like mortification move quickly through me. Had this been a joke?

  “Oh my gosh,” he said, now letting it out as his laughter became audible.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “London,” he said, trying to pull himself together. “That was . . . I just . . . Oh, my gosh.”

  “Spit it out, Broll,” I said, feeling annoyed and trying to pull away from him, but his arms were tight around me and he wasn’t going to let me go.

  His laughs turned to chuckles and then he stopped, pulling me into him and burying his head in the spot where my neck met my shoulder. He reached up and pulled down the collar of my coat and started kissing up my neck and over the bottom of my jaw until he was close to my lips.

  “You have,” he kissed the side of my mouth, “no idea,” he kissed the other side of my mouth, “how much I’ve wanted to do that.” He kissed me gently on the lips just once, then rested his forehead against mine.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Really?”

  He pulled his head back and looked me in the eyes. “Yes, really.” He leaned in and kissed me gently, our mouths moving together slowly.

  “Wait,” I said, pulling away from him just as he was starting to pick up the pace again. “How long?”

  “How long?” He brought a hand to his chin, his look contemplative as he rubbed the base of it. “Eighth grade—that time we snuck out early in the morning and watched the eclipse.”

  “What?” I pulled my head back from him to see if he was serious.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the eighth grade.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, closing my eyes and shaking my head back and forth.

  “Oh . . . no?”

  I sighed, opening my eyes. “We’re such a cliché.”

  “Why?” He looked confused.

  “Why? You pining for me since the eighth grade, me not knowing until we were older . . . That’s like textbook cliché.”

  “Okay,” he said flatly, angling his head to the side. “I didn’t pine for you forever. I gave up around the summer before tenth grade when I realized we were never going to be more than friends. So then I pined over that redheaded girl—Carol Bellinger.”

  I gave him my best frown. “You totally ruined the story.”

  “But you just said we were a cliché,” he squinted his eyes at me.

  “Yeah, but I liked the cliché,” I pouted.

  “If it helps, I always held a small candle for you.”

  “That helps a little.” I added in a sniffle for good measure.

  “So,” he said, his lips pulling up into a smile.

  “So,” I echoed.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d like to kiss you some more,” I said.

  “That sounds like a solid plan,” he agreed, pulling me to him and claiming my lips with his.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I was, in a word, high. High on life, high on Christmas, high on all the girly feelings, and definitely high on sugar cookies. I had gone to the bakery this morning and grabbed some more.

  Last night was . . . well, magical. That’s the only word to describe it. Andy and I made out by the falls for a while and then came back to my room at the cottage and made out some more. It was like being a teenager again. I kept wondering, what if we had done this in high school? So many wasted years. But then again, maybe Andy and I weren’t ready for each other back then. Maybe it had to happen now because we needed all that life experience between us before we could be together.

  And I was getting ahead of myself. We kissed. A lot. But there were no declarations of anything. No promises of a possible future. I lived across the country, for crap’s sake. But I had to admit to myself, in all the dates and boyfriends and kisses I’d ever had, it never felt like this. It was almost too easy. Andy had been one of my best friends, and even though we had drifted apart, when I got here and we ran into each other, we just picked right up.

  It was almost too easy. Like it was meant to be. And if I thought too hard on that, it scared me to my core. So I didn’t think about it. I pushed it away and enjoyed the newness of it all. Whatever it was.

  Don had only one client in the mid-afternoon, and I went into Gatlinburg to help him. If nothing came of working for him, at least I could help pay for this trip, as my savings were slowly starting to deplete. And also, the wealth of knowledge just from the past three days was worth it. The thought of moving here and working for him played on repeat in my head while I assisted him with the shoot. Of course, those thoughts were intermixed with flashbacks of Andy—kissing him, holding him . . .

  I couldn’t believe I was actually entertaining thoughts of moving here. Going back and forth about the pros and the cons. But I had to admit the “pro” column was slowly gaining check marks. I could be here, back in Christmas Falls, back in the only place I ever felt at home. I could start over. I had a job offer. I could be near Andy . . . and Piper. Who knows what friendships I could build with my old group of friends—my bracelet gang. I could be here for Miss Anna Cate.

  Some of those same things were in the “con” column as well. What if being back here suddenly didn’t feel like home? And starting over was hard. There were many logistics and stumbling blocks—like paying to move, getting out of my apartment lease, finding a place to live here. What if things didn’t work out with Andy, and I was stuck in this small town where everyone knew everything? I’d never get away from it. What if Piper moved away? And I’d be here to watch Miss Anna Cate die. I didn’t know if my heart could handle that.

  After I finished up working with Don, I walked around Gatlinburg, taking pictures with my camera—this time I had people in some of them. Not faces, but I snapped a picture of an old man’s hand holding a cup of coffee, and the feet of a boy sitting on a bench with his shoelaces untied. I wasn’t sure I could add these to my online store because I had no idea how they’d turn out. But it was exciting to try something different.

  I went back to my room at the cottage in the early evening, wanting to call Andy, but not having a reason to, except that I wanted him to come over so we could have a repeat of last night. We’d texted a few times during the day, just a few quick texts to say hello and acknowledge the fact that we were both thinking about each other. It was also annoying that I felt like I needed a reason to call him—if this had been a couple of days ago I would have just sent him a text demanding that he come entertain me. But now? Now it felt every move I made meant more.

  After about thirty minutes of debating whether to call Andy or not, there was a light knock on my door, and I ran to answer it. I didn’t even bother asking who it was before I opened the door.

  B
efore I could even properly greet him, Andy’s arms were around me, his lips were on mine, and he was slowly moving into the room. With a smooth move, he shut the door behind him as he guided us farther into the room without breaking the kiss.

  “Hi,” he said after we came up for air. He had a hand wrapped around my back holding me close to him, his other palm was on my cheek, fingers pushing into my hair.

  “Well, hello,” I said, feeling breathless and light and happy—oh, so very happy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this way, this feeling of elation that moved through my entire body, from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes.

  He grabbed my hand and walked me to the dark green armchair where I had awkwardly curled up the other night to keep my distance from him. There would be no awkward distance between us tonight, apparently. He took a seat in it and pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close to him.

  “How was your day?” he asked me, pressing light kisses to my neck, my collarbone, my jaw.

  “It was good,” I said, sounding more breathless than I meant to. “You?”

  “Terrible,” he said.

  “Really?” I pushed back from him to get a better view of his face.

  His mouth spread into a big smile. “I would’ve rather been with you.”

  “Oh,” I smiled back. This Andy—this version of him—was so new to me. We’d always been able to say things to each other before, but this was on a whole other level. I liked it. It was like I had found a whole other side of him that I knew nothing about.

  “You know, I think I like this side of you,” I said, leaning in and giving him a soft peck on the lips.

  “What side of me?”

  “Well, your lips, obviously,” I kissed him quickly again. “But also, this whole flirty side.” His arms pulled me to him.

  “You like?” he asked, his smile bright.

  “I like. A lot.”

  After kissing and teasing, and I believe there was some tickling involved, my stomach made a rather loud grumbling noise. I had only eaten a couple of sugar cookies and a protein bar all day.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  I looked down at my stomach. “Apparently.”

  “Listen, this might sound weird, so don’t take it the wrong way.”

  “Okay.” I pulled my eyebrows together.

  “I don’t want to go out with you tonight.”

  “Huh?” I might have taken it the wrong way, except this was Andy, and his grin was so wide I knew it couldn’t be bad.

  “Nope. I want to stay right here and have you all to myself.”

  There wasn’t anything else I would’ve liked better.

  ~*~

  We snuggled up together on the bed, our tummies full after getting takeout from the diner, watching TV, and just feeling all around good. At least I was. By the intermittent kisses from Andy, I think it was safe to assume that he was feeling the same way.

  “So,” he said, turning the volume down on the show we were sort of watching.

  “So,” I echoed.

  He let out a breath. “Have you thought more about taking that job . . . about moving here?”

  I let out a breath as well. I had thought about it. I’d thought about it all day. “I have,” I said simply.

  “And? Don’t leave me hanging here, Walsh,” he said, pulling his chin into his chest as he gave me questioning eyes.

  “I don’t know.” It came out as sort of a whine.

  “I knew you’d say that,” he said. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a folded-up piece of paper.

  “You did?” I really needed to work on having an air of mystery—but I doubted that was possible around Andy.

  “Yes.” He unfolded the piece of paper and held it out in front of him. “Which is why I have prepared a list.”

  I chuckled. “A list, you say?”

  “Yes, a list of reasons why London Walsh should stay in Christmas Falls.”

  “Don’t keep me waiting, let’s hear this list.”

  He cleared his throat. “Okay—and these are in no certain order.”

  “Just read it.”

  “Okay. Fine. Geez, you’re demanding. Number one: there are four seasons here.”

  “What? Why is that even on the list?”

  “Hear me out,” he said, putting up his hand to stop my further protest. “I looked it up because I’ve never been there, but San Francisco doesn’t have four seasons. It doesn’t even snow there.” He said the last part like this was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “I mean, autumn is amazing here, as I’m sure you remember. And the spring is equally beautiful but for different reasons. Then there’s the summer.”

  “I’m well aware of all that,” I said, half-laughing. “But okay, I’ll give you that one. Christmas Falls has four seasons. I think it might take more than that.”

  “Yes, I know. Which is why that’s not the only reason on my list.”

  “Your smarter than you look,” I said, which got me a light pinch on my side that tickled and made me squirm.

  “Are you going to let me finish?” he asked.

  “By all means.”

  “Number two is that you now have a job, and you don’t have a job in San Fran.”

  I nodded. “This is true.”

  “And it’s a job that you might love and could catapult you to doing something you might actually enjoy. That’s not on the list, I was just going off the cuff.”

  This guy . . . oh man. How can you feel even more for someone you were already feeling so much for, until it seems like you’re going to explode? Because that was how I was feeling.

  “Number three on the list? Piper. You have Piper back now, and she needs you and you need her.”

  I swallowed. This was true. I did need Piper. I wanted to be a permanent fixture in her life, and her to be in mine. I hadn’t had a friend like her since things went wrong, and now I wondered if those friendships only came around once in a lifetime. Maybe it was just luck that we’d found each other in the first place. And now I had her back.

  “Yes, that’s definitely a good reason.”

  “And the other girls. I ran into Morgan today—did I tell you that?”

  “No, you didn’t,” I said my mind wandering back to the Morgan I knew in high school. I wondered how much she’d changed these past years. The thought of reconnecting with my friends, of making those connections again, sent a twinge of excitement swirling around in my belly.

  “And then there’s number four.” He put the paper down and turned his body toward me. “Me.”

  My heart took off, galloping so wildly I thought it might burst out of my chest. The look in his eyes, the earnestness of his voice. I closed my eyes to try to ground myself because right then—in that very moment—I wanted to declare out loud that I wanted to stay with him forever and have all his babies. Luckily, I held myself back.

  “Andy—”

  “I know,” he said with a quick dip of his chin. He reached over and grabbed my hand, weaving his fingers through mine. “I know that it’s all new and we haven’t even talked about whatever this is, but it’s not like we’ve just met. It’s not like we were strangers when you showed up last week.”

  “I know,” I said, leaning my head on his shoulder. “I just . . . I just don’t want to ruin anything, you know? What if I move out here and it doesn’t work out? I mean, whatever this is . . .”

  “I think this,” he said, leaning his head on mine, “is the start of something good. Something real.”

  I sighed contentedly. “I think so too.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Andy left in the wee hours of the morning, and I only felt a little bad that he would be exhausted for work that day. It was, by all definitions, the best night. At least by all my definitions.

  My phone rang not long after I had dragged myself out of bed. I was supposed to meet Don in a couple of hours for some afternoon and evening family shoots, and he
also wanted me to give him an answer about working for him on a permanent basis. He wasn’t giving me much time, which stressed me out. Even so, I couldn’t help but lean toward taking it. It was just too easy—a lot like Andy and me. As if all the stars were aligning right now. As if this was all meant to be.

  I picked up my phone to see who it was and hoping it was Andy. No such luck—it was my mom. After pleasantries, she dug right in.

  “Can you come home a day earlier? Your father and I will pay for the ticket change fee.”

  “Mom,” I chided. “I can’t, remember? I have to sing in the pageant, and it’s on Christmas Day.”

  “I know that,” she snapped. “But couldn’t you miss it? Surely you’ve had enough time to see everyone. It just doesn’t feel right that you won’t be here. None of you have ever missed Christmas with us.”

  This was true; it was like some unmentioned rule that we all had Christmas together. Even Savannah made sure her family was always there—giving her husband’s family time on Christmas Eve. This would be the first time we weren’t all together. That made my heart sink a bit. I didn’t want to be the one to break tradition, and there was so much changing at home with my parents divorcing. Would this be our last Christmas all together? Would everything be different next year? I didn’t want to think about that now. I was in Christmas Falls, and Miss Anna Cate needed me here. And she wasn’t going to be around much longer.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” was all I said.

  She let out a breath. “Fine. We’ll at least wait until the next day to eat the cheesecake with you.” This was a Walsh family tradition. Cheesecake on Christmas. I was grateful we’d at least have that.

  “So, Mom.” I said this nervously, because I was feeling all kinds of apprehension.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, I sort of was offered a job here . . . in Gatlinburg.” I wanted to make sure she knew it was in Gatlinburg and not Christmas Falls. I thought it might sit better if she knew it wasn’t in the town she spent the bulk of my life trying to get out of.