Maybe This Kiss

by Jennifer Snow

  She’d gotten her first sewing machine at the age of nine and had made new clothing for her dolls out of material from her brothers’ old clothing and blankets. She’d started making her own clothes at thirteen and had taken several courses throughout high school. Graduating with a degree in fashion design, she’d been planning to move to Denver to start an internship with Alice’s Bridal—a wedding dress designer in the city—but a week before the move, she’d found out she was pregnant with Taylor, and her plans had changed.

  She’d had no idea how Rob was going to react to the news, but he’d surprised her by being ecstatic. He’d just graduated from the academy and had accepted a job with the Glenwood Falls police department. They decided to get married, and her disappointment about the delay in her own plans had been eased by the excitement of planning a wedding and a future with a man she adored. A man who had been there for her when she’d been sad and lonely. A man who hadn’t pushed her for more than she was willing to give. He’d helped her move on when Neil left, and they’d made a fantastic—albeit too short—life together.

  She released a deep breath. “Go try that on so I can figure out if I need to take in the waist a little more,” she told Holly, setting the tree skirts aside.

  She waited for Holly to return, pins in hand, and almost sighed with relief when she reentered moments later. The dress fit like a glove. She’d take her holiday miracles where she could get them.

  She motioned to the step stool in front of the three-way mirror. “Stand up there and I’ll start pinning the length,” she said, kneeling on the floor.

  “It’s so good, Becky,” Holly said, smiling at her reflection in the mirror as she ran her hands along her tiny waistline. “I can’t believe this is the same dress. It is right? You didn’t go buy a new one, did you?” she asked, teasing.

  Becky didn’t admit how close she’d come to doing just that. “Hold still,” she said around the pins in her mouth.

  “Have you decided if you’ll be bringing a plus one?”

  “Yes. Taylor.”

  “She’s the flower girl. She doesn’t count.”

  “Then no.”

  “Why not? It doesn’t have to be a date or anything. Just a friend you can have fun with for one evening. Someone to dance with maybe?”

  “I told you, I probably won’t stay long past dinner anyway.” Holly was crazy to even suggest she bring a date to the wedding. Seeing her mother- and father-in-law at a family event, where Rob’s absence would be felt so strongly, would be challenge enough. Arriving with a date would be tacky. “I wouldn’t even know who to ask” she said instead, knowing if she told Holly the real reason, she’d wind up hearing about how it’s been over four years, it was time to move on, no one expected her to stay celibate the rest of her life, yada, yada, yada.

  “What about Neil Healy?”

  She nearly swallowed the pins on her inhale. “What? No.” She’d narrowly escaped being paired with him in the wedding party. One of Holly’s taller bridesmaids had insisted on walking down the aisle with someone over six foot, and Neil was the only option. Becky refused to be jealous over it. Relief was what she should and would feel. “He’s in the wedding. Why would you even suggest that?”

  “Because he’s your sexy ex-boyfriend, and he’d make beautiful babies.”

  Becky nipped Holly’s leg with a pin.

  “Ow!”

  “Oops.”

  “And you can’t say you’re not still attracted to him. Seeing him again must be having some effect on you. And before you get all defensive, I can totally see why. He’s absolutely your type.”

  Ha. She didn’t have a type. She’d had Neil. Then she’d had Rob. And that pretty much summed up her relationship history for the last two decades. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re a hero bunny.”

  She stopped working and shot her friend a glance in the mirror. “A what?”

  “A hero bunny. You know, like a puck bunny—the women who chase your brothers around. You’re attracted to guys in uniform, even though you know you shouldn’t be—Ow! Stop that!”

  She pointed a pin at Holly’s reflection. “Not another word or I’ll turn you into a pin cushion.”

  “Fine.”

  Holly kept her promise, but her silence was too late. Now, the thought of asking Neil to be her date to a wedding they were both attending anyway was on Becky’s mind as she worked.

  Hero bunny. As if. More like a hero-avoidance bunny.

  * * *

  Three hours later, Becky sorted Christmas basket donation items at the community hall and added the holiday fabric tablecloths she’d made over the last few months. Last year’s dollar store plastic ones had seemed cold and unwelcoming, and she wanted these baskets to have a personal touch. So many people needed a small gesture of love this time of year.

  Hearing the back door buzzer, she placed the stack of tablecloths aside and went to answer it. An unexpected snowy wind hit her as she pushed the heavy metal door open. When had this started? She’d been inside all day and hadn’t noticed. She smiled. Despite all the grumbling about it, she loved snow. If it continued for a few days, it would make the upcoming holiday festivities much more festive. Christmas and snow were synonymous. She didn’t know how anyone could truly feel the magic of the season in a warm climate.

  How did that simple thought bring her back to Neil? She couldn’t help but wonder how he’d celebrated the holidays in Miami. With friends? A girlfriend? The thought brought another unwanted wave of jealousy.

  Pulling her sweater closer around her body, she stepped outside, not seeing anyone at the door. A delivery truck from Walden’s Grocery was parked in the fire lane behind the building. “Hey, Frank,” she called to the store owner as he opened the back doors.

  “Hi, Becky. I have about twenty boxes for you. Did you want to prop the door open with a brick and I’ll bring them all into the kitchen for you?” he asked, pulling on a pair of gloves and zipping his coat higher around his neck.

  “I’ll help.” She shivered as she reached inside for her jacket. Shoving her arms quickly through the sleeves, she joined Frank at the truck. “What is all of this stuff?”

  “Turkeys and bread for stuffing,” he said.

  “I didn’t order these.” She looked longingly at the boxes of frozen turkeys. God, she wished she had.

  Most of the items for the baskets were donated, and while there was barely enough, she thought she could make everything stretch to fill the twenty-six boxes. She was still counting on the goodwill of the community to pull through in the next few weeks. Many were more willing and eager to open their hearts and wallets closer to the holidays.

  “Neil Healy did last week.” Frank reached for the first box and carried it past her, oblivious to her open-mouthed look of pure disbelief.

  Recovering quickly, she grabbed a box and nearly collapsed under the weight. She set it back inside the delivery van. Frank would have to do this part. She followed him inside. “I’ll start finding space to put them,” she said, discarding her coat and opening the nearly empty freezer. “Won’t be hard.”

  As she packed the turkeys in, she replayed her last conversation with the hero of the day, feeling more and more like a jerk as she placed about three hundred dollars’ worth of food in the freezer. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t said anything about this. Though, that wasn’t his style.

  Damn. He was a good guy. The kind of man she could once again fall head over turkeys for and then what? Suffer the torment of the reality of his chosen career? She’d lived that fear before—saying a silent prayer every time Rob left for work or a rescue mission, holding him close a little longer in case it would be the last time…And then one day it was.

  A rekindled relationship with Neil was out of the question, but that didn’t mean she had to be so standoffish and rude. They could be friends…

  An image of the unconcealed look of attraction on his face the other night in her sewing
room flashed in her mind, shattering the thought. Friends didn’t look at friends that way. They didn’t kiss that way, either.

  It was a shame, really. She could use a friend who kissed like that.

  Chapter 5

  The white shit was falling from the sky.

  Slowing his motorcycle, Neil drove closer to the side of the road. The forecast had said nothing about snow, though he should have expected it based on the heaviest clouds he’d ever seen looming overhead and the dip in the temperature that had nearly brought tears to his eyes that morning.

  This was a real crappy time to be experiencing his first snowfall in twelve years. He’d spent the day training new Air Force pilots at the airport in Pueblo County, where there hadn’t been snow. Now, it looked as though the rest of his day would be spent going from car dealership to car dealership trying to find a decent secondhand truck. So much for depending on his motorcycle to get around. Time had run out. He slowed the bike even more and muttered a string of curse words. He’d forgotten how quickly Colorado weather could go from shitty to extra shitty.

  The tires spun on the slippery surface, causing the bike to swerve slightly. And while he was admittedly an adrenaline junkie—jumping out of planes even when he was off duty—he wasn’t reckless. He moved to the shoulder and stopped the bike as several cars passed in the inside lane.

  At least he’d made it to Glenwood Falls. He’d call a tow truck to pick up the bike and take him back to the base, where he’d have one of the guys drive him to the least shady dealership they knew.

  Colorado winters were long and even longer without someone in bed next to him at night. It had been almost a year since his last semi-serious girlfriend, and he was still far from ready for another commitment-filled relationship, but a casual, no-strings-attached situation was on top of his Christmas wish list. Unfortunately, only one woman came to mind whenever he thought about it, and she was definitely not casual. She was complicated as hell.

  As he pulled his cell out of his pocket and removed his helmet, a truck pulled up in front of him. He blinked. No shit, the woman he’d just been thinking about, the one who, the night before, he’d vowed to stay away from, was coming to his rescue?

  He climbed off of the bike and walked toward the driver’s side as she rolled down the window.

  “You lost, Miami boy?” she asked, teasing in her tone and a smile on her face that nearly put him on his ass.

  He checked over his shoulder to be sure she was actually talking to him. “Um…yeah…well, no.” Why was he nervous and tongue-tied all of a sudden?

  Maybe because those crystal blue eyes he’d stared into so often were actually looking at him again. Not dodging his gaze or containing a look of guilt and apprehension. Just friendly, familiar, and so amazingly beautiful.

  So completely different from the look they’d held at the arena.

  Time had done its job in erasing his anger toward her, and he almost wished his heartache hadn’t faded over the years. It would be much easier to put distance between them if he still resented her. Unfortunately, all he felt was a desire to kiss her again.

  “Standing out here admiring the snow?”

  The second smile had him heating from head to toe. Yes, she could certainly keep him warm this winter. “Stranded.”

  “Hop in. I’ll drive you to base.”

  He hesitated, not loving the idea of leaving his bike on the side of a slushy, slippery road. And accepting the offer meant forgetting the vow he’d made to leave her alone. “It’s fine. I’ll call a tow truck.”

  “In this weather, you’ll be waiting a while,” she said.

  Her insistence surprised him. The other night she’d told him in no uncertain terms to stay away from her and Taylor. Now she was eager to have him inside her truck, inside her space? He wanted to say no, but the heat coming from inside was tempting and the woman inside—dangerously so. “Okay, thank you.” But climbing into the truck a moment later, he knew he was doomed.

  A faint scent of gingerbread coming from her had his mouth watering. An irresistible urge to find out if she tasted as delicious as she smelled had him lunging for the door handle. Over the years, he’d allowed himself fantasies about her, but only from the safety of a thousand miles away. Resisting the arousing thoughts when she was just inches from him would be torture. “You’re probably busy. I can call a tow truck.”

  A flicker of disappointment registered on her face. “Not that busy that I can’t help you out. At least wait inside the truck. It’s thirty degrees out there. You’ll be an icicle in ten minutes.” Her eyes landed on his uniform, and he could tell that, despite her words, she too was seeing the error in inviting him in.

  As much as she’d hated the idea of him joining the military, she’d certainly been turned on by the uniform. A memory of the first time she’d seen him in it flashed in his mind. He hadn’t kept it on for long…Shit.

  He ran a hand over his snow-covered hair as he weighed his options. He wasn’t exactly eager to go back outside and wait on the shoulder of the road in this crap. And waiting for the tow truck would take longer than if they drove back to base. Less time with her fighting these crazy urges the better. “You know, let’s go. I’ll call a tow truck to meet me at my place.”

  “Your bike will be okay?” she asked, pulling the truck back out into traffic.

  He forced his head clear as he glanced at it in the side mirror. “I think so. I really need to get a new vehicle,” he said.

  “It was bound to happen sometime,” she said, tossing her light brown hair over her shoulder. Another wave of gingerbread and cinnamon reached him.

  “What smells like heaven? Is that you?” Despite his best efforts, he moved closer to breathe it in, desperate to find the source of the comforting, inviting smell.

  She laughed. “I was baking the gingerbread pieces for Thursday’s house-building contest at the community hall.” She paused, turning to glance at him. “Thank you, by the way. The turkeys arrived this morning.”

  So that was the reason behind her sudden thaw. He’d overheard several women in the office discussing the possibility of not having enough donations for the food baskets this year, and he’d figured if nothing else, a turkey dinner could bring happiness to the families on base. Growing up, he and his father had received a basket each Christmas, and being back on the base, where he’d grown up, it felt like the perfect opportunity to give back for the generosity. But he’d specifically asked Frank Walden at the grocery store not to mention it had come from him. “It was nothing.”

  Becky glanced at him, and the appreciation in her expression made him wish he’d ordered a hundred turkeys. “It was something. It was incredibly generous of you, and a lot of people will have a much better Christmas dinner with their families because of it.”

  He shifted in the seat. Praise and gratitude always made him uncomfortable. “Anyway, this gingerbread you speak of…You wouldn’t happen to have any in the truck, would you?” He’d skipped lunch and was starving.

  “In the glove compartment.” She nodded toward it. “Just leave a piece for Taylor.”

  “Right—your enterprising daughter.” He laughed. “Still can’t believe she charged me so much for a lesson,” he said, opening the glove compartment.

  “You need all the help you can get out there,” Becky said.

  “Watch the ego—it’s fragile,” he said, retrieving the plastic container. A silver chain fell to his feet. Reaching for it, he studied the pendant. A Saint Christopher medal—the patron saint of protection. His grandmother had given him one the day he joined the military.

  She glanced at it, then quickly brought her attention back to the road. “That was Rob’s. I’d forgotten it was in there.”

  The atmosphere in the truck went from flirty to serious in a nanosecond, and he put the medal back quickly. “Sorry.” The appeal of the gingerbread gone, too, he sat awkwardly, holding a piece in his hand.

  “He died a long time ago, but even a tin
y reminder brings it all back, you know?”

  He did know. In his two tours overseas, he’d seen many of his friends and fellow soldiers injured. Some hadn’t made it back. His own father hadn’t made it back. The possibility of death was a daily reality for him. “I’m sorry,” he said again, knowing there were no right words, nothing he could say to help ease the lingering void she must feel. Wanting to and feeling helpless—the worst possible feeling.

  She surprised him when she continued. “He wasn’t even Catholic, but it was a gift from my mother on our wedding day. He would take that thing with him every day and leave it in the truck, because he couldn’t wear it on duty.”

  Neil nodded. His was put away in an old shoebox for the same reason, but he always took it with him when he traveled overseas.

  “The hardest part of losing him is not having closure. It’s been four years, but I keep expecting someday he’ll walk through the door.”

  Her soft, quiet confession shocked him, and her vulnerability in that moment made his attraction for her grow stronger. “Is that why you haven’t moved on…with someone else?”

  She smiled but it was full of longing. “I know that’s probably the right answer—the more noble reason—but the truth is, I’d like to find someone to spend my life with. To be happy with someone again. But life is busy, and I’ve yet to find anyone who would be worth the effort of making it even crazier, worth the possible complications.” She glanced at him and her cheeks turned a beautiful shade of pink, betraying her.

  He resisted the urge to reach across and touch her. She’d been through a lot and his heart ached for her.