Any Given Christmas

by Candis Terry

  His girl.

  He rubbed his palm and didn’t like the way it suddenly felt cold and empty. He needed to put a football in it. Soon. That way he’d have two of his favorite things to hold onto. He lifted his head and watched Emma move with familiarity behind the bakery counter where Kate had put her to work choosing and boxing up their breakfast.

  Family meant everything to him. Even more now that he’d lost his mother. Well, he’d sort of lost her.

  The day he’d ended up in surgery after his hit on the field, his father had taken the first flight out of Montana. He’d been there beside the hospital bed when Dean had woken, groggy from the anesthesia and pain meds. His father had held his hand and forced hope into his heart when Dean had had very little. For several days after the surgery, his father had slept in his spare room and waited on Dean with as much care as his mother would have, had she been around. His sisters called nightly, asking what they could do to help. They’d all been there for him when he’d needed them most.

  His gaze tracked Emma as she closed the lid on a pristine white pastry box, then licked a drop of sugary topping from her index finger. Everything inside him turned to mush.

  Family.

  That’s what Emma had become to him.

  He liked waking up with her in his arms. He liked falling asleep with her cuddled against him. And this morning he would thoroughly enjoy sitting across from her while they snacked on muffins, and hopefully afterward, each other.

  He planned to take her back to the lodge house and build an inferno in the outdoor fireplace. On this amazing sunny morning where the snow glittered like diamonds and the scent of pine wafted across the deep blue sky, it seemed a perfect day to eat out on the back deck.

  A perfect day for a proposition.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Surrounded by forest and a blue sky, Emma tilted her head back and let the winter sun touch her face. Dean had built a roaring fire in the outdoor fireplace, yet the air remained cool and crisp. When she’d shivered, he’d brought out a thick wool blanket and covered her legs. Cozy and warm, she smiled.

  “What’s that for?” Dean leaned over and kissed her mouth.

  “What?”

  “The smile.”

  “The sun feels good.”

  “You feel good.” He took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. “Mmmmm. Taste good too.”

  Her heart gave a little flutter while he rubbed her cold fingers between his palms and glanced out over the frozen lake. Emma wished she had a camera because she’d never seen quite such a peaceful expression on his face before. No twists of pain tightened his beautiful mouth. No furrows of worry creased his brow. “I don’t have a penny for your thoughts but I’d be willing to take it out in trade,” she said.

  He turned his head and those green eyes of his literally glittered in the sunlight. “Can I choose what I get?”

  “I’m not taking my clothes off out here.” She shivered. “It’s too cold.”

  “Come here.” He opened his arms. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  She pulled the blanket off and climbed onto his lap. He covered them both and she laid her head against his non-injured shoulder.

  “You don’t have to be so careful, Em. I’m not made of glass.”

  “I know. But you’ve worked so hard to get your shoulder back in shape, I’d hate to damage that.”

  “Honey, it was fine when I lifted you up on your kitchen counter and had my way with you. It was fine when I lifted you up in the hot springs so you could wrap your legs around my waist and I could have my way with you. So your head on my shoulder is easy. And very nice.”

  “You just like having your way with me.”

  A huge grin curled his sexy mouth before the corners slipped downward.

  “What is it?” she asked, suddenly alarmed.

  “You mentioned me working hard on my shoulder. It just made me think about all the stuff I need to get done before I go meet up with the doctor again.”

  “Is that when you’ll find out how well the surgery worked?”

  He nodded and tucked her into him a little closer. “But I don’t need him to tell me. I can feel the strength coming back more and more each day. Another couple of months and no one will even remember that I tore the hell out of it.”

  She patted his chest. “You’re a fighter, Dean.”

  “I’ve got no choice. Football is all I know. It’s been who I am since I learned to strap on a helmet. I refuse to believe I can’t get it back. That I can’t have it all.”

  Thoughts of him having it all led to thoughts of her losing it all.

  Soon the gentle, charming man she’d learned to love would get on a plane that would take him away from her. Out of her life. Back to the celebrity world in which he belonged. And which she had no part of. She curled her fingers into his shirt and sighed.

  “When I go back to Texas,” he said, gliding his palm slowly up and down her arm, “I want you to come with me.”

  Her head came up. “What?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it, Em.” His hand cupped her face. “Thinking about us. I think we’re good together.”

  So did she, but . . .

  “I want to be with you.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I want to know when I come home that you’ll be there, waiting for me.”

  His words drew the air from her lungs. Could this be . . . ? “Exactly what are you saying, Dean?”

  “I think . . . we should live together.”

  “Live together?” She leaned back.

  “Yeah. You know, as in, you move your clothes into my closet and take over so I have to use the closet down the hall.”

  “I can’t go to Houston and move in with you.”

  A crease slashed across his forehead. “Why not?”

  Why not, indeed? This was what she’d wanted, right? Commitment? Then why wasn’t she jumping up and down? “Because I have a class full of kids who depend on me. I’m not about to walk out on them.”

  “You wouldn’t have to. You could stay until summer break and then move.”

  “I’m in the process of obtaining my master’s.”

  “The University of Houston would love to have you.”

  “I’m just starting to apply the knowledge I gained at the Missoula Academy to help Brenden.”

  “In a few months Brenden will be going into the first grade.”

  “I can still help him.”

  “But think of how many kids you’ll be able to help once you get that degree. And you could get it faster if you went to school full-time.”

  True. “I can’t afford that kind of education right now.”

  “I can.”

  “Are you offering to pay my tuition?”

  “Absolutely. And you wouldn’t have to worry about paying me back like you would a student loan.”

  “That’s really generous of you.”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  “Ummm, let me think about that.” She tapped her chin several times. “Yeah, that would still be a no. I don’t want you or anyone else paying for my education, Dean. I’m old-school. I believe you gain more if you have to work hard at something. Besides, I’m not leaving Deer Lick.”

  “We could live here for the months I’m off football. You could substitute-teach.”

  “Still a no.”

  “Why?”

  “Because what would the town think? What would my students think? What kind of example would I set?”

  “You can’t base your life on what everyone thinks, honey. They’ll be happy for you. For us. You saw the look on Dad and Kate’s faces. They were ecstatic we were together.”

  “Not everyone is so understanding.”

  “You don’t think they’ll compare you to your mother, do you?”

  “No.” But she did. She thought about what her students’ parents would think. What her next-door neighbor would think. Yes, since Oscar died she’d been beyond lonely. She hated going home to an empty house.
But to leap to such an extreme when all she really needed to do was bring home a new cat? She didn’t even know if she was ready for a new cat. She wanted her old cat back. And she didn’t want life to be so complicated that she had to tell the man she loved no.

  She understood what a huge step this was for him even to consider. Unfortunately, as earth-shattering as it may seem to him, for her, it wasn’t enough. She was old-fashioned. She didn’t want to move in until he got tired of her and moved on. She wanted a lifetime commitment.

  “Aren’t relationships about compromise?” he asked.

  “I haven’t changed my mind about what I want.”

  “You mean marriage, kids, the whole pretty-picture-tied-up-in-a-bow thing?”

  Her chest compressed. “Yes. That whole tied-up-in-a-bow thing.”

  “Come on, honey,” he coaxed, kissed her neck. “Living with me wouldn’t be so bad. I promise I’d pick up my dirty socks and I wouldn’t leave dishes in the sink.”

  “Ah, if it were only as simple as dirty socks and dishes.”

  “It can be.”

  “What would I do for the seven-plus months you’d be gone? Take up knitting?” The tension between them had escalated, so Emma went for a laugh. “I know. Don’t they have a big rodeo there? I could take up bull riding.”

  He gave her an edgy chuckle instead of a full-blown belly laugh. “I’d be home.”

  “Not every night.”

  “Almost every night.” He kissed the side of her neck again and warmth rushed right down to her heart. “At least think about it for more than two seconds.”

  Emma thought of being able to sleep next to him every night, wake up next to him every morning, and make love with him whenever she wanted. She thought of sitting across from him at the dinner table to discuss their day. In her mind it unveiled like an episode of Ozzie and Harriet. In reality it would be more like Desperate Housewives, the non-married version.

  “Come on, honey.” The big hand that earned him millions of dollars slid to the back of her neck and drew her mouth down to his. “Just think about it.”

  A reality check assured Emma that Dean Silverthorne did not make long-term commitments. Just thinking about it could amount to emotional devastation.

  But that didn’t stop her foolish heart from wanting to say yes.

  For two weeks Emma and Dean played house and nobody caught wind of their game. Not Kate or their father. Not the educators in the school district. Not even Emma’s nosy neighbor.

  Emma kept her car in the garage and each night after the sun went down she left the loneliness of her empty house and snuck out her back door to meet Dean down at the end of her dark street. In the mornings she’d return to her little cottage before the neighborhood woke up. At first Dean had thought her idea ridiculous, but then he got into the whole secrecy, and the game-playing worked its way into their lovemaking. He didn’t mind that at all. For a time they’d laughed at their undercover capers, especially the night she’d met him wearing only her coat and boots.

  Two weeks had turned into three, and Emma now found herself staring at the bright pink toothbrush Dean had bought her that was sitting in the cup next to his. She’d closed the shower door where her bottles of shampoo and conditioner sat perched next to his on the built-in tile ledge. Downstairs he waited for her with a fire roaring in the fireplace and a glass of delicious cabernet.

  She’d grown used to cuddling with him at night, working together with him in the kitchen to make grilled chicken and vegetables. Or the lemon cheesecake that never made it to the oven because they’d ended up licking the batter off each other.

  Her loneliness had disappeared, and the man she was used to seeing on magazine covers and big-screen TVs became more important to her than breath. She used the fluffy towel to dry off, then she slipped into the long, red spaghetti-strap nightgown he’d bought for her on his last trip into Bozeman.

  He’d asked her to think about moving with him to Texas. She’d thought about it. At the end of the day, she knew she wouldn’t. Not that she didn’t care about him. But she didn’t belong in Texas. She’d never fit in with his friends, his coaches, and the team. She couldn’t live a life wondering when he would tire of her, and she’d see him on entertainment news with his arms around a cheerleader, or an actress, or a supermodel.

  And she wouldn’t give up on her goals and ambitions to become a door mat.

  After months of being with her day after day, he’d discover that she was just Emma. A small-town girl who was happy to be just that. She’d never fit in with the cool kids and Dean Silverthorne was their leader.

  Every breath she took reminded her that their time together would soon draw to a close. Dean would return to Texas sooner rather than later and he’d be going there alone. She’d return to her too-quiet house. Try to pick up the pieces. And move on.

  For children who couldn’t yet tell time, Emma’s students somehow managed to figure out the afternoon bell was about to ring. Their little butts squirmed in their seats as, in unison, they stared up at the clock. The bell about to chime would signal more than just the end of a Thursday afternoon—the bell would signal the countdown to just one more week of school before spring break.

  While warmer climates boasted swimsuits and water fun, Deer Lick had a different set of spring break traditions. Like shoveling soggy snow so the daffodils could pop their yellow heads up through the earth. Or poking holes in the thinning ice to cast a line in the lake. Avid skiers could still hit the slopes and thrill-seekers would now be able to attempt to rock climb on some of the most beautiful cliffs in the west.

  For Emma, the bell about to chime meant something very different.

  When the loud buzz broke through the silence of her classroom, her students leaped from their seats and rushed out the door. In two seconds Emma found herself alone amongst walls covered in primary-colored, finger-painted works of art. She laughed and spoke aloud. “Was it something I said?”

  “If you were talking dirty, I completely missed it.”

  Emma spun to find Dean with one broad shoulder planted into the door frame, his arms crossed, and a smile on his face.

  “I believe I covered talking dirty last night.” She straightened the papers on her desk to hide her blush. She’d never done most of the things Dean had talked her into during sex play. The first time she’d been shocked. The next time she’d become an avid participant.

  Dean pushed away from the door and strolled toward her. She loved to watch him move. For a man of his size and muscle, he moved with elegance and grace. When she’d mentioned that to him, he’d made her promise never to say things like that about him to anyone else. At least not in front of the guys who could pound him like sand into the turf. And had.

  He wrapped her in his arms, nuzzled her neck, and said in a heavy Texas twang, “Mmmm, I do love the way you smell, Miz Hart.”

  She did her best to dodge him and was thoroughly unsuccessful. “You can’t do that here. Someone could walk by and look in.”

  His hands began to roam down her backside and she realized, too late, she’d just thrown down the gauntlet.

  “Well, I’m sure they’d understand that I’m about to board a plane and I have to make every moment I have with you count.”

  All day she’d tried to forget that he was leaving and she wouldn’t see him until who knew when.

  If ever.

  If the doctors cleared him to work out with the team, as Dean expected them to, he’d stay in Texas for good. Or at least until his schedule allowed him to come up for air. He’d handed over some of the duties for the organization to his trusted board members. The rest, he said, he would handle via phone or email.

  She looked up into green eyes full of mischief.

  Make every moment count.

  Without a word she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. His strong arms brought her tight against his chest and he kissed her back.

  “Ahem.”

  Emma broke from Dean’
s embrace to find the school principal inside the door of the room. His enormous belly pushed against a mustard yellow button down shirt and drooped over a pair of red pants.

  “Mr. Prince. I—”

  “Hello, Dean.” Hand extended, Walter Prince walked past Emma as though she didn’t exist. He shook Dean’s hand with a big, meaty paw. “Well, now, I haven’t seen you around since you came back.”

  Dean’s wide shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I’ve had a pretty busy schedule putting together a charity to honor my mother.”

  “Yes, Brenden Jones’s mother mentioned that. Very admirable.”

  “She was a good woman,” Dean said.

  “Indeed she was.” Principal Prince glanced over his shoulder at Emma.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Prince,” Emma glance up at Dean. “We . . . uh . . .”

  “Yes. I’ve heard.”

  “You heard?” Distress rippled up Emma’s back. “From who?”

  “Now, Miss Hart, you know how this town operates.”

  “I thought we’d been rather discreet. How many people know?”

  “Might be easier to count who doesn’t know,” the principal muttered.

  Emma pictured in her mind all the fingers wagging in her direction and groaned.

  Dean laughed. “See, honey, I told you no one would care.”

  “Wouldn’t go so far as to say that.” Principal Prince scratched the tuft of mouse fur on top of his head.

  “Maybe so,” Dean said in her defense. “But we’re both single and it’s really no one’s business.”

  “Well, you know how it is. Folks get curious.”

  Emma looked up at Dean with a solid “I told you so” fire in her eyes.

  “They’re wondering . . .” The principal’s discomfort was palpable, but Emma could see his curiosity had a stronghold. “If—”

  “If I plan to make an honest woman of her anytime soon?” Dean interjected. “Or if I’m just playing the field?”

  The muscles in Dean’s jaw were clenched and Emma knew he was about to give the big buttinsky educator a piece of his mind. Dean would defend her. Of course he would. Her heart warmed at the thought.