All I Want For Christmas: Holiday Romance

by Catelyn Meadows

  “Sorry about that,” she said. Sorry didn’t hold a candle to her chagrin.

  She opened her mouth to explain, when a group of teenagers passed by with nosy gazes. Saylor took the front of Cole’s jacket, tugging him off to the side by a glowing Rudolph that looked far too happy right now. Cole stared down at her, confused, but curious.

  “I never meant to add drama to this tonight,” she said, grateful to be out of earshot. “I was having a really great time.”

  Cole’s brows arched. “No need for that to change.” He offered his arm. Relieved, Saylor took it, linking elbows once again.

  “You don’t mind?” she asked as they walked back toward the slush around his truck. Simultaneously, she stared off after the Windham’s large snowmobile trailer leaving the lot. Cole’s truck started before they reached it, impressing her once again.

  Cole opened the door for her. Saylor did her best to kick snow free of the soles of her boots before climbing in. Assuring himself that she was settled, he closed the door and crossed to his side.

  Warm air blasted Saylor. She closed her eyes, letting it sink into the chill threatening its way into her bones.

  “Remember the trail I mentioned?” he said once he’d seated himself and turned down the radio. “The girl I followed here?”

  Saylor nodded, not sure she really wanted to know, but grateful all the same. He was still talking to her. The night wasn’t a total loss.

  “Let’s just say I’ve got my own drama there.”

  “Glad I’m not the only one,” she said, sinking lower into her seat.

  Cole flashed a smirk. “You take pleasure in my pain?”

  She laughed at his joking, formal tone.

  “I’m just glad I’m not alone in the experience.”

  “You’re not,” he said, easing back out onto the main road. “No one is. We just have the good to balance out the bad, right?”

  From across the console separating them, he offered his hand. A wave of pleasure spurred in Saylor’s stomach. She accepted, grazing her palm into his.

  “How are your hands so warm?” she asked, feeling instantly warmer in his touch. Their clasped hands perched between them, and he smoothed a thumb across her skin.

  “Gloves.”

  “I wore them too, but my hands are freezing.”

  He shrugged. “Mine are better.”

  She laughed again and settled in for the drive home. They filled it with talk of their favorite music and YouTube channels, including the exchange of several of the best Bad Lip Reading videos available. Before long, they were driving back through Twin Falls and turning onto Saylor’s street.

  Wordlessly, they both exited the warm vehicle. Inclining his head with a smirk, he offered her his arm again and walked her to her front door. The sidewalk leading up to it had never seemed so short before. It didn’t give her pulse time enough to slow to its usual pace.

  She wondered what would happen now. Would they shake hands, hug? Would he kiss her?

  Her mouth went suddenly dry.

  It was far too quiet, and the addition of the snow around them made everything that much more hushed. She waited for Cole to say something—anything—about seeing her again. What if he didn’t bring it up? Should she?

  He released her arm. His hand gently rested at the small of her back, and though she could hardly feel it through her coat, it brought a small amount of comfort.

  Saylor bit her lip and stepped onto the square of cement situated before her rusted screen door, cringing at the ice built up there. Though there wasn’t much room, Cole joined her, standing in the feeble light of the small bulb.

  “I had a great time tonight,” he said.

  Her pulse rocketed. Higher. And then higher still. He was standing so close to her. She forced herself not to look at his mouth.

  “So did I. Thanks for inviting me.”

  Silence swirled in the freezing air around them, in the blanket of eavesdropping snow, in the rustle of coats—everywhere but his eyes. His eyes were noisy with delight and were looking right at her.

  She tilted her chin up, just enough.

  His smile deepened, and he leaned in, pulling her into a firm hug. She breathed him in, taking in the feel of him, the coolness of his coat against her cheek, his scent of spice and musk. It wasn’t a kiss. But sometimes an affectionate hug was better.

  “Are you working tomorrow?” His chest rumbled, his voice deep and resonant.

  She pulled back just enough. His hands kept her to him. “I made sure I had the day off so I could spend it with Parker. But...” Her throat tightened. She couldn’t believe she was about to say this. “But we wouldn’t mind some company, if you’d like to come over.”

  She chided herself. Sure, that was all Parker needed right now, for her to start dating someone new, too. She told herself it would be okay.

  Cole dipped his head enough to shake his hair out of his eyes. It landed seductively across his forehead. Saylor fought the urge to reach up and touch his face. Or better yet, feel his lips against hers after all.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” He stroked a thumb across her chin before saying goodbye.

  Chapter Nine

  Saylor hugged Parker long and hard the next morning. His little body snuggled against hers just as hard for several seconds. The trail of snow he’d left on the orangey-brown carpet gradually melted behind him, leaving small puddles near the door. David had dropped him and his bag off with nothing more than a nod in her direction before he’d left.

  When Parker tried to pull away, she held tighter, inhaling his watermelon soap and the scent of his shirt, trying to scan this into her brain so she never forgot what it felt like to have him in her arms.

  “Mommy. Mommy, you’re too tight.”

  She released him with a smile and stared into his brown eyes. “Sorry. I just missed you.”

  He grinned, lighting the freckles dusting across his nose.

  “The tooth,” she said, unused to the sight of him with a hole in his smile. “Did the tooth fairy come?”

  Parker trotted off just enough to toss his coat onto the floor. With a gentle reminder from Saylor, he hung it on the peg behind the door instead.

  “Uh huh. Five bucks under my pillow.”

  “Five?” Her heart sank. Way to make things easy for her, David. When she was a kid, it was a quarter. She brushed it off the best she could.

  “That’s amazing,” she went on, reaching to help him with his bag. It was much fatter than it’d been when she’d packed it for him. “We should put it in your piggy bank so you can—”

  He unzipped his bag, talking over her. “The Windhams took me to this cool toy store and I got this robot!”

  He removed a large, blue plastic hunk from within his bag that looked like it cost much more than five dollars. He also began to unearth several more items. The package of Legos Saylor had bought for him. The skateboard. A few games, a remote-controlled boat, and several action figures he hadn’t had before.

  “You got quite the haul, I see.”

  “Santa Claus knew exactly where to come. The Windhams said they made sure to leave him a note and told him to look for the tallest chimney.” Another grin. “They said Santa would know what their car looks like too.”

  Just keep smiling. Just keep smiling.

  “Sounds like you had a good time. Did you have fun snowmobiling?”

  “Oh my gosh, Mom, so fun. It was like, so fast. They all have snow machines, and they drive like this over the snow.” He made some gestures with his small hands, along with revving noises, pursing his lips out just enough to make her smile.

  “And they had an Xbox. They said they got it just for me, because I’m their only grandkid. I played so much Xbox. It was the best.” He flopped back against the couch in boyhood delirium. “So many cool things.”

  “Sounds like it,” she said, pushing away the rigidity in her chest, and the conflict over whether or not to tell him they weren’t actually his grandp
arents. She reached for his little hand, and he let her pull him into her lap.

  She propped herself against the couch. Parker leaned his head against her shoulder. She brushed the hair away from his face, falling in love with his freckles all over again.

  “I like cool things too,” she told him. “But can I tell you one of the best secrets in the world?”

  His eyes lit up and he pulled away to look at her. “A secret?”

  “You only get to have them with me, right?” she added, thinking of another conversation they’d had about strangers and secrets, about how they didn’t keep secrets if strangers were involved. He nodded, face completely serious.

  She tilted in closer, brushing hair away from his forehead. Then she brought her lips to his ear.

  “Life is not about having things,” she said.

  Parker thought this over for a minute, staring off toward the pile of wood beside their stove in the corner. “But I like things.”

  “I do too. It’s okay to have them, but if you had to choose between things and people, what would you pick?”

  “People,” he said quickly. “Definitely people.” She laughed and squeezed him. He placed a hand over each of her cheeks, and she placed her hands over his. They shared a silent moment, just the two of them.

  “What do you say we have some good old fashioned fun today?”

  His brows jumped. “You mean it? You don’t have to work?”

  Saylor grinned. “I mean it. Go get your snow clothes on.”

  “Yay!” He bounced off her lap and darted down the hall to his room. She followed suit, heading in to squeeze into some snow pants she hadn’t worn in years. Parker trotted in several minutes later, decked out like a puffy red astronaut. Saylor squished the pom on the top of his beanie.

  “Ready, Mom?”

  “Just about.” She slipped into her coat and coerced a hat over her hair as well. Their boots made heaving thudding noises over the linoleum, and she pushed the back door open.

  COLE WOKE UP TO ANOTHER phone call with the screen blaring Brooke’s name.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He considered ignoring this one too, but that hadn’t gone so well last time.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, you.” Her voice was as it ever was, wrenching something inside of him. Memories resurfaced of holding her in his arms, cuddling in a hammock while she’d used that exact tone, kissing her soft lips and exploring a new life with her as his wife. The same empty pang joined the memories. Things had been good with her, for a while.

  Maybe they could be again.

  He pushed the thought away, hating himself for even thinking it. He couldn’t let himself forget how selfish she was. How degrading.

  “What do you want?”

  “Is that any way to greet me first thing in the morning? What are you doing today?”

  “I have plans.” He wasn’t about to tell her they included another woman, a beautiful woman, just as intriguing as Brooke had been when they’d first met.

  Warning crept into his thoughts—was he heading for another disaster like his previous marriage? He thought of Saylor’s ex and his vindictive expression the night before. That had been the look of a man who didn’t like seeing his ex-wife, who tolerated her presence because it meant seeing their son. What could have driven her ex to have such a horrible outlook toward her?

  Maybe she was flawed in worse ways than he knew. Worse than Brooke was. If he was heading for a trap, it would be better to end things now.

  Still, people could change. Saylor didn’t seem to be the type to fake anything, not after seeing how she’d reacted at being confronted by her son and ex. She’d been taken aback, maybe even embarrassed. Usually, those proved to be emotions powerful enough to bring out a person’s true self, and Saylor had handled herself with stability and patience.

  No, he couldn’t walk away without finding out for himself who she really was.

  “I think you should stop calling me,” he said to Brooke. She barked a laugh as though he made some great joke.

  “I’m serious. I don’t know what you want, but—”

  “I want you,” she said in her blatant, honest way. He used to admire her forwardness. Then it had turned into exactly what he hated most about her. It had been such forwardness that made her so condescending toward him. She’d hidden exactly none of her annoyance at him and had nagged him like a hungry pigeon.

  “You had your shot. We ended it.”

  “Too soon,” she said. “Look, hear me out. I know I made some mistakes and I really hurt you. But I can’t stop thinking about you lately, about the way you held me, about the way you kissed me—”

  “Stop it. I’ve got to go.”

  “Cole.”

  “I mean it. Don’t call me again.” He knew it was rude, but he hung up on her. He couldn’t go back to that situation again and be treated like nothing more than a mat for her to wipe her muddy feet on.

  She had him so agitated even now. Getting back together with her couldn’t be a good idea.

  Then why was he trying so hard to convince himself of that?

  Brooke was a vice around his wrist. He was just another trinket to her—she'd said as much several times. How good they looked together. How his nice truck and apartment had fit her idea of perfection. It was the only conclusion he'd been able to come to about why she’d shown any interest in him in the first place. She’d liked the appearance he’d given her, the way he’d made her look important, wealthy, desired.

  It had always been about her.

  Saylor had acted in a similar, possessive way last night, when her ex showed up, but she was probably just nervous. She couldn’t be the same, he told himself. A woman who jumped the fence to have Santa talk to her worried son on Christmas Eve, who lived in a meager home on the other side of town and wore the same dress to work as she’d worn to the mall a few nights before couldn’t be the same.

  Saylor’s invitation to join her played on his mind. He shook his head and put on his shoes and coat. He considered calling Saylor, but wanted to surprise her instead, having not actually committed to anything the night before.

  The drive to her dated house took a matter of minutes. It was small and brick, in a style that was popular thirty years ago. Snow fell and piled along the front walk—more so than had been there last night when he’d taken her home.

  His heart had thundered in his chest as he’d walked her to the door. She’d looked so charming in the moonlight, so vulnerable when she’d lifted her chin upward, so hopeful. It’d been all he could do not to kiss her then and there, but he wanted to take things slow, at least a little bit.

  He lifted a hand to knock, when voices and a peal of laughter redirected his attention to the backyard.

  SNOW FELL SOFTLY, DRIFTING to add itself to the white blanket covering their backyard. The landlord had left a small playground here, which was one of the reasons Saylor chose this house. The swings were weighed down with packs of snow.

  “Check this out,” Parker said, romping through but hardly able to move fast in the thick of it. He lifted his little boots as high as he could, trudging toward the slide. At least four inches of white carpeted the slide’s surface. Parker climbed the short ladder and pushed all the snow down as he slid his way to the bottom.

  Red tinged his cheeks as he lifted a gleeful smile in her direction.

  Soft flakes began falling faster. Saylor bent and cupped a handful of snow, packing it tightly together before placing it back down. Slowly, she began to roll the ball, packing snow as she went until it left a trail behind her. The snowball was growing larger by the minute.

  “Awesome!” Parker exclaimed, bending to make his own ball. They laughed and joked as they attempted to assemble the snowman’s pieces. The head refused to stay; it teetered one way, then the other, until Saylor slammed it down hard and prayed it didn’t crumble the ball in the process.

  “He needs a hat,” Parker said, examining their short, chubby man.r />
  She rested her hands on her hips, catching her breath. Several falling flakes kissed her already cold cheeks. “He’s a referee,” she said. “He doesn’t need a hat to judge a snowball fight.”

  “Yeah, a fight, a fight!” Parker danced around in the snow, kicking piles here and there.

  “Start making your weapons,” she told him, bending to pack her own snowballs. She knew they didn’t allow this at school, so she would show him how to do it properly.

  “No wonder you didn’t answer your door,” a voice said.

  Saylor whirled around and lost her balance, plopping her backside right into the wet. Cole’s eyes barely broke over the top of their fence, but she could tell he was smiling by the way the corners crinkled.

  “Cole,” she said, too excitedly. He’d said he would drop by. She just expected him to call first. Then again, maybe he did. It wasn’t like she could check messages out here.

  Parker slammed her with a snowball to the cheek. She shrieked, startled at her boy, who beamed back at her.

  “Mind if I join you?” Cole asked. Parker moved closer to her side. His face fell into concern.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Parks, this is my friend, Cole,” Saylor said, brushing snow from her pants. The fabric responded with several swishing noises. “Do you mind if he plays with us?”

  “Do you like snowball fights?” Parker asked, blinking.

  “Only if you don’t like to lose,” said Cole. “Should we team up? Together, I bet we could beat your mom.” He pointed at Saylor with a gloved finger.

  “Then Mom would lose.”

  Cole grinned.

  Saylor folded her arms. “I’ll have you two know that I don’t lose snowball fights.”

  “Then you have to be on my team, Mom,” Parker replied, tugging her hand.

  “Sounds like we have a deal.” Saylor tromped over mounds of thick, white snow and attempted to fiddle with the gate. But even if she could get it open, there was too much snow. That sucker wasn’t going anywhere.

  She grimaced at the silver latch. “You’ll have to come in through the house—oh!”