Maybe This Kiss

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Maybe This Kiss Page 12

by Jennifer Snow


  Deployment paperwork. He swallowed the disappointment he felt. “Thank you, sir.”

  Going into his office, he found it. Deployment date: January 3. A three-month tour overseas, leaving the day after Taylor’s birthday.

  Slumping in his chair, he stared out the window, where big, fluffy snowflakes fell. Another Christmas Eve alone with everything he’d ever wanted—family and a love so strong it had never faded—just a leap of courage away.

  His cell chimed with a text message and he reached for it.

  Cliff.

  What was the man doing texting on his honeymoon? If he was on a beach alone with Becky, using his phone would be the last thing on his mind.

  Opening the message, he read,

  Hola! Some wedding pics we just received from the photographer. Merry Christmas!

  He scrolled through the ones of him with Cliff and his aunt and uncle…one of him with the other groomsmen…And paused at one of him and Taylor dancing. He sighed. She deserved someone she could look up to, depend on…He wanted to be that man for her.

  He scrolled further and his chest ached at the picture of him and Becky. She looked so beautiful, so radiant in the glow of the white holiday lights hanging above their heads. The photographer had unknowingly captured his favorite moment of the evening. He was whispering something into Becky’s ear and she was beaming. He’d been telling her he loved her.

  Which was what he should be doing right now.

  * * *

  “Great job disguising your present,” Becky whispered to Jackson, nodding toward the hockey stick–shaped gift under the tree.

  He laughed. “You’re lucky it made it under the tree. I was so tempted to give it to her this morning. She’s really fantastic—had me on my game out there.”

  “I’m glad Ben was able to come through. She’s going to be excited. I’m just a little pissed that you’re going to be her favorite this Christmas.”

  “I’m always her favorite.”

  That was probably true. Becky checked her watch as the smell of their traditional Christmas Eve meal—ham and baked potatoes—drifted into the living room.

  Almost five and no sign of Neil. She wasn’t sure why she was expecting him. She hadn’t reached out to him that day, and he hadn’t contacted her.

  Taylor had asked if he was coming, and she hadn’t had the heart to tell the little girl about their argument the night before, so she’d said she wasn’t sure.

  And as the clock ticked down the hours, she was losing hope that he might show up.

  Her phone chimed in her pocket, and her heart echoed in her ears, until she saw the message was from Holly.

  Merry Christmas! A few wedding pics we were excited to share!

  Scanning the photos, she felt her eyes watering and she stepped into the hallway, away from her brother and Taylor.

  The one of Taylor and Neil dancing made the lump in her throat even bigger. He’d make a terrific stepdad to her daughter. She was lucky—they were lucky—to have him in their lives. She wished he could take a leap of faith and trust in their feelings the way she was.

  When she reached a picture of the two of them, a tear slid down her cheek.

  They had to make things right again.

  She stared at the picture. Preferably, in time for Christmas…

  She checked her watch, then grabbed her coat. “Mom, hold dinner!” she called as she headed toward the front door.

  “Where are you going?” her mother asked, coming out of the kitchen.

  “To get Neil.” She was determined to do whatever she had to do to make sure she spent that evening wrapped in the arms of the man she loved.

  Beverly smiled. “About time. I texted Holly an hour ago.”

  Becky shook her head. Her meddling family was the best. “I’ll be back soon.” Swinging open the door, she gasped.

  “Hi,” Neil said, hand poised to knock.

  Dressed in a pair of jeans and his leather jacket, his hair covered in a light dusting of snow, he was the best thing she’d seen all day. Without a word, she stepped outside and into his arms. Her heart racing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.

  There were things that they both needed to say, but talking could wait.

  Nothing conveyed a message quite a well as a kiss anyway. And she was hearing him loud and clear in the way his lips pressed against hers and his arms held her tight.

  She opened her eyes to peek at him and found him staring. She grinned, breaking away. “You’re looking.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, tucking her flyaway hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry.”

  A sigh of relief eased all tension from her shoulders. “Me too.” She hugged him tight again. “Thank you for coming.”

  “I wanted to all day, but I wasn’t sure where we stood.”

  She snuggled closer. Now that he was here, she wasn’t letting him go again.

  “Then I got a text message…”

  She leaned back slightly to look up at him. “Full of wedding pictures?”

  He laughed. “Their way of telling us we were being stupid, I guess.”

  “It worked.” She touched his cool cheek, shivering in the snowy breeze.

  “So, am I still invited to dinner?”

  “Am I still invited back into your heart?” she whispered.

  “You were never gone.” His gaze locked with hers and nothing else mattered. He was there. He loved her. Everything else would work itself out.

  Her breath caught and she kissed him again. “Come inside.”

  “Wait.”

  She stopped.

  “There’s something I need to say first.”

  Her heart raced again as she waited.

  “I received my next deployment papers today.”

  She nodded slowly, her mouth going dry. She knew it was coming…

  “January third for three months.” He looked worried as he took her hands in his.

  “Okay,” she said slowly. They’d figure it out. They’d get through it. It was three months. Such a short time apart compared to a lifetime of love together.

  “The thing is, I love you, Becky, and I’m not leaving again until I know for sure you’ll be waiting for me when I get back.” His eyes searched hers.

  In them she saw all the love and commitment she’d walked away from years before. And while she knew his tours overseas would cause her worry and may be challenging, nothing would be worse than a life without him. “I’ll be here.” She squeezed his hands and kissed his lips once more as the sound of Christmas music from inside wrapped around them like the swirling snow. “My love will always be here waiting.”

  All through high school, talented hockey player Jackson Westmore had a crush on Abby Jansen, but he would never make a move on his best friend’s girl. Now she’s back in town, newly divorced, and still sexy as hell—and Jackson knows he’s in trouble…

  Please see the next page for a preview of Jackson’s story, Maybe This Time.

  Chapter 1

  Of all the mistakes she’d made in her twenty-nine years, Abigail hoped her decision to move back to Glenwood Falls wouldn’t be the biggest one.

  The silent treatment she’d received from her daughter on the exhausting fifteen-hour drive from California to Colorado made her think that maybe it was.

  She waved to Dani from the sidewalk as the school bus pulled away from the curb, but her nine-year-old ignored her.

  Great.

  As the bus rounded the corner, Abigail pulled her cardigan tighter around her and turned to walk back toward her family home. The mid-September mountain breeze felt even cooler to her, having spent so many fall seasons living in sunny Los Angeles, where the palm trees and green grass never gave way to the gold and red leaves crunching beneath her feet as she walked.

  The wind blew her long blonde hair across her eyes, and she tucked it behind her ears. The sunshine reflected off of her solitaire di
amond ring, nestled safely next to the platinum wedding band that used to hold a promise of forever.

  She’d have to take them off soon. She probably should have already.

  Dean’s wedding band had been sitting on the nightstand on his side of the bed for almost ten months.

  Some people had an easier time letting go and moving on.

  She took a deep breath as she opened the front door. The smell of coffee and blueberry pancakes greeted her, and she forced a smile, hoping it would dull the constant aching in her chest.

  Time to face another day.

  Another day in Glenwood Falls—her former hometown. Another day with her parents trying to make her feel better about her divorce. And another day she had to get through with a heaviness weighing on her whenever she thought about her future.

  Hers and Dani’s.

  Following the smell of coffee, she went straight to the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” her father said, pouring her a cup.

  “Hi, Dad,” she said, glancing around the kitchen that hadn’t changed in years. The same harvest gold fridge and stove that had been popular in the seventies and that her father miraculously managed to keep running, the round glass-topped table near the window that seated four, and the same butterfly-patterned curtains she’d sewn one year in home economics class—the only thing she’d ever successfully made. In ten years, nothing had changed, and she’d expected that sense of familiarity to make her feel better.

  Instead it made her feel as though her attempt to move on with her life had taken her two steps backward.

  “Dani got off to school okay?”

  “Yes, although she still refuses to speak to me,” she said, sitting in her old familiar place at the table. She took a sip of the tar-like coffee and winced, but immediately took another one. She used to hate how strong her father made it, but the last three mornings, she’d needed the strength it provided to deal with Dani’s anger at her for moving them away from her father in L.A.

  “She’ll come around,” he said.

  Abigail knew it was true. She just hoped it was before her little girl started college.

  On the table was that day’s Glenwood Times—the local newspaper. Picking it up, she opened it to the classified section as she had the day before.

  Nothing new added. Still just three open positions in the town of five thousand residents—the deli counter at the supermarket, early morning flower delivery, and sawmill operator.

  “Dad, how hard is it to operate a saw?” she asked with a sigh.

  He chuckled. “Just the fact that you need to ask means you probably shouldn’t apply for that one, sweetheart.”

  Her mother came into the kitchen and her expression said it all.

  “Yes, Mom, I’m looking for a job,” Abigail said.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  She didn’t have to. Isabelle Jansen’s face was the most expressive her daughter had ever seen. Every emotion, every thought could be conveyed by the small furrow of her brow or the twitch of an eye…

  “I know you think I need time to get settled, but the sooner I can find work to keep myself busy, the easier that will be.”

  “You know yourself better than anyone, sweetheart. I’m just saying there’s no hurry.”

  “I appreciate that.” And Abigail did. After leaving Glenwood Falls, she’d only gone back to visit a few times, instead sending plane tickets to her parents to come visit her and Dani in L.A. Her decision to move home as her divorce was being finalized had surprised her parents, but they’d opened their door and arms to her and Dani. They were making this transition as easy on them as possible. And she knew how valuable their support was. She also knew she couldn’t use them as a crutch. She needed to get back on her feet and prove to herself this was the right decision, that she could move forward without Dean, as soon as possible. And Dani needed to see that, too.

  Abigail hesitated, wondering if she should tell them about the one job in town she was interested in. She cleared her throat. “I was actually thinking about applying for a teaching position at the elementary school.”

  Both of her parents stared at her.

  “What? I do have a teaching degree.” She’d completed the degree after Dani started school, realizing she might someday want a career of her own.

  “Yes, but…you’ve never actually used it,” her mother said.

  “Don’t they expire?” her father joked.

  “Very funny, Dad,” she said. “When I registered Dani on Monday, I heard one of the other teachers say they were looking for a substitute teacher that could turn into a full-time fourth grade position when Kelli Fitzgerald goes on maternity leave next month.”

  “Oh, that’s right! I saw Kelli at last month’s town meeting—she looked ready to deliver then. She’s such a sweet girl, and her husband is one of the nicest men—he helped your dad with the deck last spring…” Her mom’s voice trailed on, but Abigail wasn’t listening.

  Her mother raving about Kelli and other of her former high school friends was something she heard often. Apparently they were all living wonderful, successful lives in Glenwood Falls. None of them had fallen in love with a star athlete or left town six months pregnant…or had to crawl back home nine years later after a bitter divorce.

  Nope, no one else. Just her.

  Abigail’s cell phone ringing was her escape, and she was relieved to see her lawyer’s office number lighting up the screen. “I have to take this,” she said, heading upstairs to her old bedroom. “Hello?” she said, closing the door behind her.

  “Hi, Abigail. How are you?” her lawyer, Olivia Davis, asked, sounding far too busy to really care.

  “I’m fine. Everything okay?” The divorce was almost finalized after six months of back and forth with Dean’s lawyer. There were just a few things left to sign off on—her proposed custody arrangement and the financial settlement terms. She knew Olivia was fantastic at her job and she’d come highly recommended by several other divorcées she’d known as a hockey wife, but she still worried about whether she’d made the right decision hiring her. Deciding who to put her trust in these days was like deciding between the devil you knew and the devil you didn’t.

  “Well, I have good news and bad news.”

  Her marriage of nine years was almost officially over—she wasn’t sure there was any real good news to be had, but she asked for that first.

  “I just received an uncontested document to the custody file,” Olivia said.

  That actually was good news. She’d been worried Dean would try to fight for custody of Dani, even though she knew with his travel schedule with the L.A. Kings and her history of being their daughter’s primary caregiver, his chances of getting it in court would have been slim.

  Maybe he knew that, too.

  “That’s great…”

  “Actually, he’s even stated that the visitation time is too much, and he is relinquishing all of the time to you.”

  Abigail frowned. “What does that mean—he doesn’t want to see Dani at all?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Hopefully that’s not the case. It just means he is leaving the power to decide when and how he sees Dani in your hands. The two of you can arrange something that works…without involving a legal, binding visitation schedule.”

  Great. So, it would all rest on her shoulders. She would have preferred it didn’t. Her own feelings toward Dean were sure to cloud her judgment, and she knew she was going to have to put them aside and do what was best for Dani. “Okay,” she said. So much for good news. Now she really didn’t want the bad.

  “So, the bad news is—he’s contesting the settlement. He is claiming that because you decided to move back to Glenwood Falls, where real estate and the cost of living are cheaper, he shouldn’t have to pay what we’re asking.”

  No doubt in most situations, this would be the bad news, but the truth was, Abigail didn’t care about the money. Yes, she expected Dean to pay child suppor
t to help raise Dani, but she’d never been the materialistic type who enjoyed the flamboyant perks of being a hockey wife. She’d bought the expensive clothes and spent the small fortunes on her hair and makeup because it was what Dean expected, what was needed to fit in with the other hockey wives.

  At first, she hadn’t felt the need to be part of the group, but she’d quickly learned how lonely life as a professional athlete’s spouse could be. Other hockey families understood the sacrifices and the often-stressful lifestyle, and she’d found comfort and security within the close-knit group.

  At least she had until a few weeks ago, when she hadn’t been able to bring herself to log in to the Hockeywives.com site. She was no longer one of them, and she needed to stand on her own two feet now. Reaching out for their support didn’t seem right. And she also didn’t want any information about her new life traveling back to Dean through their hockey-playing husbands.

  “Look, don’t worry,” Olivia said when Abigail was quiet. “I’m sure it’s just a delay tactic. He can’t possibly believe the courts will rule in his favor on this. The longer he can delay things, the longer he doesn’t have to pay the divorce settlement or alimony and child support.”

  “So, what’s next?”

  “Well, I’ll file the counter and see what happens. But in the meantime, try to feel good about the uncontested custody—you wouldn’t believe how often that causes the biggest delay. You’re lucky.”

  Lucky, she thought sadly as she disconnected the call. Strange, she didn’t feel lucky. How was she supposed to explain all of this to Dani, who’d had a say in outlining when she wanted to spend time in L.A. with her dad? How could she tell the little girl that her father hadn’t wanted to commit to a schedule, to time with her? The last thing their strained relationship needed was Dani thinking this was somehow her fault. Neither did she want to paint Dean as the villain, as much as she resented him for what he’d done, for tearing their family apart and putting her in this situation.

  No, lucky definitely was not a word she’d use.

  She stared at the rings on her left hand. Her mother had said there was no rush, she’d know when she was ready to remove them. She struggled to recall the memories attached to each one—the joy, the love, the excitement she’d felt the day he’d proposed and then six months later at their wedding—but too many other memories—of nights alone, of fights that had left her crying herself to sleep, of his betrayal—had caused the good ones to fade.

 

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