The Wedding Date: A Christmas Novella

by Connelly, Cara

  “You bet.” Everyone at the hospital assumed Betsy was his girl. He’d never corrected them. It was simpler that way, at least for now.

  Outside, snow fell in a white sheet. The pavement around the hospital had been plowed and treated, the main roads too, so footing wasn’t a problem there.

  But when he crossed Charles Street and began the climb up into Beacon Hill, his boots might as well have been greased. “Fuck!” he yelled, skating backward toward the roadway.

  By sheer luck, he snagged a light pole with one hand. Momentum wound him around it until he hugged it like a lover. Grateful to be alive, he dredged up a rusty prayer of thanks as the cars shissed past an arm’s length away.

  He’d caught his breath and was considering his options, all of them embarrassing, when an off-duty cab pulled up alongside him. The cabbie lowered the window, looked him over. “Not from around here, are you, pal?”

  Cody scratched his head like he was puzzled. “Can’t figure out why folks keep asking me that,” he drawled.

  The guy chuckled. “Get in, cowboy.”

  Letting go of the pole, Cody slid sideways till his hip bumped the door, then sighed profoundly when his ass hit the duct-taped seat.

  The cabbie eyed him in the mirror. “Place a couple blocks up. Outdoor gear. Boots, gloves. That kinda shit.”

  “Appreciate it,” Cody said, hoping Julie would appreciate the lengths he was going to get back to her. She’d been upset when he left, but in his experience, women often got upset when he ran out in the middle of sex. Most of the time, they were over it when he got back, and happy to pick up where they left off.

  An hour later, tricked out for a moonwalk, he leaned on her bell and waited for her to come downstairs and make fun of him.

  But she didn’t come. He rang again. Then once more.

  He snooped around, spotted footprints mostly covered with fresh snow. Maybe she’d gone to the store. Yeah. He could meet up with her, carry the groceries.

  Sheltering under the tiny overhang, he punched her number into his phone. It rang and rang, finally went to voicemail.

  He slumped against the door, stared out at the falling snow. And made himself consider that maybe—and he could hardly believe it—but maybe, after all that hot sex and cuddling and staring into each other’s eyes, she was blowing him off.

  Or maybe not. Maybe she’d gone off to Amelia’s to do wedding stuff. Maybe she just forgot to leave him a note or a text or a voicemail to let him know.

  It could happen.

  He clomped off in that direction, cursing the storm that had dragged him out of her arms.

  Ray answered the door in sock feet. “Hey, Cody. Come on in.”

  Cody stomped off the snow and stepped into the hallway. He shook Ray’s hand. “Today’s the day. You ready?”

  “I guess.” Ray checked his watch. “Four more hours as a bachelor.” He grinned. “Want a beer?”

  Cody shook his head with regret. “It’d knock me on my ass.” He glanced over Ray’s shoulder. “Julie here?”

  “She’s off with Amelia, doing stuff at the church. They’re getting dressed there too, so they won’t be back.”

  “Where’s the church?”

  Ray looked down at his socks. “I’m not supposed to tell you.”

  Cody’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck?”

  “Sorry.” Ray rubbed his toe on the tile. “Jules was pretty strong about it. Amelia tried to change her mind, but . . .” He shrugged.

  Cody scratched his jaw. Three days growth, and counting. “I could beat it out of you.”

  Ray’s eyes bugged. “Shit, Cody, you’d break me in half!”

  “Yep. So why don’t we just cut to the chase? Tell ’em I roughed you up and you spilled your guts.”

  Ray considered it. “Wouldn’t that leave, you know, bruises?”

  “Say I went Jack Bauer on you. No marks, just pain.”

  Ray perked up. “Remember that time he was gonna pop a guy’s eye out with a pen? Let’s say that.”

  “You got it.” Cody nodded along. “Now where’s the fucking church?”

  THE CHURCH WAS small, more of a chapel. Grey stone walls, worn wooden pews. Statues in each corner of Jesus and Mary, Joseph and St. Francis. Votives flickered in red glass at their feet.

  Amelia surveyed the modest altar, bordered with a double tier of red and white poinsettias. “A Christmas Eve wedding sure saves a bundle on flowers,” she observed.

  “Mmm.” Julie didn’t look up. She looped a white bow over the end of a pew. Moved on to the next one.

  “More money for heroin and hookers on the honeymoon,” Amelia went on.

  “Mmm.”

  “Less to regret during the inevitable divorce.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Amelia walked up behind her, poked her in the side.

  “AHHHHH!” Julie leapt four feet. “What the hell, Amelia!”

  “Just making sure you weren’t replaced by a robot.”

  Julie glared. “Very funny.”

  “Seriously. It’s my wedding day and you’re not even into it.”

  Julie had to give her that one. “Sorry. I’ll do better.” She grinned an extra-toothy grin.

  Amelia rolled her eyes, relieved her of some of the ribbons. “You can make it up to me by telling me who you’re bringing to the wedding. I don’t know why it’s such a big secret.”

  Julie plunked down in a pew, came out with the truth she’d been ducking all day. “Listen sweetie, I hate to disappoint you on your wedding day, but I’m not bringing a date.”

  Amelia threw up a hand. “Not even Brad? For God’s sake, Jules, he’s perfect!”

  Julie weighed her words. “He seems very nice. Good looking. Easy to talk to.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “He just . . . didn’t do it for me.”

  Amelia put her hand on her hip. “Admit it. You want Cody.”

  “No, I don’t.” Julie said it too quickly, felt heat creep up her neck. She turned her back on her sister and fiddled with the ribbons.

  But Amelia wouldn’t drop it. “What if he wasn’t a doctor? What then?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He is a doctor.”

  “Jules—”

  “It’s a deal breaker,” Julie cut in, “and it’s not negotiable.”

  “But—”

  “Enough!” Julie chopped a hand through the air. The long night dragged at her, both the good parts and the bad, fraying her patience, shredding her nerves. “You don’t understand, Amelia. You weren’t there at the hospital, in the doctor’s offices, the waiting rooms.”

  She slapped the ribbons down on a pew. “You didn’t smell the horrible smells. Medicine and antiseptic and vomit and shit. You didn’t see the hope live and die in David’s eyes every time some doctor offered him a lifeline that broke as soon as he grabbed it.”

  Anger boiled over into tears. They spilled down her cheeks. It was the worst time for a breakdown, but she couldn’t stop.

  “The doctors,” she raved, “they walked in and out of our lives like . . . like waiters or doormen or the salesclerk at Store 24. We were just customers to them. They showed up for ten minutes and they got paid, live or die. They didn’t even care which it was!”

  She was sobbing now, overtired and babbling, making no sense because her thoughts no longer made sense, even to her. “Don’t you see? The doctors, they’re all about suffering, and dying, and playing golf at their country clubs. They can’t really do anything, they just want people to think they can so they can take their money and leave them with nothing. Nothing.”

  Amelia had her by the shoulders. She pulled her into a hug, stroked her hair. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”

  Julie shook in her arms, throat hitching, nose streaming. “Cody reminds me,” she got out. “He reminds me how it was. I can’t go there again. I can’t do it.”

  “It’s okay, baby,” her sister crooned. “You don’t have to see him. You don’t have to see Co
dy ever again.”

  “Like hell she doesn’t,” boomed a voice from the back of the church. “I’m damned if I’ll take the heat for every fucked-up doctor and incurable cancer in the whole fucking world.”

  Cody strode down the aisle, long legs eating up the distance at ten times his normal pace. Snow fell in clumps from his shoulders, flew off the hood he shoved back. His eyes burned, his teeth showed, and the set of his hard, scruffy jaw said he was madder than hell.

  Watching him come, Julie didn’t know what to do. Fear and desire and guilt and grief all did battle in her head and her heart. Unable to choose between fight or flight, she froze like a rabbit, while Amelia, brave Amelia, stepped in front of her.

  “Cody—”

  “You should go to Ray,” he said. “I had to beat the church out of him.”

  Amelia’s mouth formed an O. Her fists balled at her sides. “Ray’s half your size! If you hurt him . . . If you hurt my sister . . .”

  “I’ve never hurt a woman and I’m not starting in church on Christmas Eve. Now go help your man before it’s too late.”

  “Jules, come with me.” She gripped Julie’s arm.

  “Just go,” Julie said, knowing it was a ploy. Cody’d never hurt Ray. What he might do to her, she didn’t know, but any pain he inflicted wouldn’t be physical.

  She faced off with him as Amelia fled. “Have your say, tough guy,” she said, finding her nerve. “And then go away. You’re not invited to this wedding.”

  He advanced on her till he was glowering down. She held her ground, wiped her nose on her sleeve. Nothing like having it out without a tissue in sight.

  “You ran out on me,” he growled, a menacing drawl. “I went through hell and high water to get back to you, and you ran out on me.”

  “Funny, I remember you leaving me.”

  “People were hurt. They needed me. I got home as soon as I could.”

  He didn’t notice that he’d called her place home, but she did. It made her want to reach out and hold him.

  She dug in her heels. “Listen, Cody.” Her voice lacked force. She bucked it up. “You’re a nice guy—”

  “No I’m not.” He leaned in. “I’m all kinds of trouble. And I won’t walk away and make this easy. You’re a mess, Jules, a fucked-up head case.”

  She flinched like he’d slapped her. His lip curled up. “I told you I wasn’t nice. But I am honest. Which you’re not. You want to blame all the shit in the world on the men in white coats, even though you know it’s bullshit.”

  His words stung, but she fell back on her usual retort. “You don’t understand—”

  “The hell I don’t. I just stood over a twelve-year-old girl who won’t see Christmas this year. I had to tell her mother, who punched me right here with her fist.” He slapped his chest. “You want to hit me, Jules? Will that make you feel better?” He spread his arms. “Take your shot. It won’t change a thing.”

  She shook her head, backed away. Nothing made sense when he was near.

  He lowered his arms, took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle.

  “I know you want to blame somebody. You want to find a reason for the whole shitty thing. I can’t help you with that. I can’t tell you why David died, or why anyone dies. Most of the time, it seems pretty random. But I can tell you this. Another twelve-year-old girl is alive right now because I went to the hospital last night. I saved her life. Her mother didn’t lose a daughter.”

  Julie hung her head, shame and sorrow crowding out anger, leaving her more confused than ever. Silent tears streamed, but for once they weren’t bubbling with rage.

  Cody raised her chin with two fingers. Tilted his head to one side. “Tell me Jules, are you really gonna hold that against me?”

  Was she? Was she going to carry her grudge past the point of all reason? Use it as a sword to wound herself? To wound Cody? Or could she lay it down, right here, on Christmas Eve, and begin again? The only thing stopping her was herself. All she had to do was let go.

  Taking a deep breath, she sighed it out, then let her fists unclench. It was hard to do. She’d clutched David’s pain so tight for so long, but now it seemed to lift from her palms, impatient to take flight, freeing her hands to hold on to someone else. At last.

  She gave Cody a watery smile. “Well, when you put it that way,” she said.

  He hauled her against him, wrapped her up in his arms. She let herself love it, buried her face in his warm, solid chest as he rocked her. When she snuffled, he murmured, “Go ahead, honey, wipe your nose on my shirt.” She did, and then she laughed.

  “That’s one good thing about doctors,” she said. “Nothing grosses you out, even snot.”

  JULIE'S UNCLE ARTURO hosted the reception for twenty in the back room of his North End restaurant. Her cousin Jan—his daughter—cornered her at the bar.

  “Dr. Delicious really fills out that suit,” Jan said slyly, then cut a sloe-eyed glance at Cody, heading their way.

  Julie stuck her pinky in her ear, jiggled it like she was hearing things.

  Jan giggled. “What can I say? Dr. Do-Me-Against-The-Wall brings out my inner slut.”

  Julie slewed a glance around to make sure Uncle Arturo didn’t hear. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”

  Jan rolled her eyes. “Where do you think I learned it, Julie? I’m trying to be more like you. Confident. Professional. Totally together.”

  “Jan, I’ve never said any such thing—” Then she lost her train of thought as Cody’s big hand settled on the small of her back. His heat soaked through the filmy silk of her dress.

  He smiled at Jan, effectively tying her tongue. She tottered off, her inner vixen no match for the likes of Cody Brown.

  Before Julie could scold him, he stroked his thumb along her spine. Just a couple of inches, up and down, but she felt the tingle all the way up to her scalp and all the way down to her bottom.

  “Nice party,” he said, “great food, good wine. Can we go home now?”

  There, he did it again. Called her place home.

  He leaned down to take a bite out of her ear, his breath hot against her throat. “If you recall,” he whispered, “I didn’t get any sleep last night, what with banging you six ways to Sunday.” His hand slid lower, his fingers just touching the curve of her ass. “Let’s go home and I’ll bang you some more.”

  Again with the home. It felt totally right. So did the part about banging her.

  She nodded and he made tracks for the coatroom. The bride and groom had already departed for St. John, so they breezed through their goodbyes and hit the sidewalk in three minutes flat, snagging one of the cabs Uncle Arturo had lined up at the curb.

  As they rode through the snow, Cody took her hand and pulled it onto his lap, lacing their fingers. Her stomach jittered with both anticipation and nerves. Cody had brought her back to life, body, and soul, just as if she’d woken up on a warm, sunny beach after hibernating through a cold, hard winter. But she was scared too, because she had no idea where this was going.

  She knew what she wanted. The fairy tale. The happy ending. And for the first time since David died, she believed that maybe she’d get it someday.

  But this thing with Cody was so new. So not what she expected. She thought she was over the doctor thing, but was she?

  And then, out of the blue, in a crisp Kodak moment, she saw it. Red brick, green shutters, halfway up Mount Vernon Street, with a tiny yard out back for Betsy.

  Their dream house.

  Cody must have heard her gasp, because he caught her chin with one finger, turned her face to his. “What’s up? You okay?”

  She looked into his warm whiskey eyes. They were filled with concern for her, and affection. She squeezed his hand. “You like Beacon Hill, don’t you?”

  “Love it.”

  “Great. Because I just figured out the perfect place for you.”

  “Okaaay,” he said, “but there’s no rush, is there?” He dropped his eyes to thei
r hands, rubbed her knuckle with his thumb. “I kinda like your place.” He sounded shy. “You’re there.”

  Oh my. Her heart did a tipsy pirouette in her chest. Then, without stopping to wonder whether it was wise, it tumbled happily downhill and fell in love.

  It stunned her, the sudden completeness of it. For one breathless moment she paused to enjoy it. Then, squeezing his hand, she brought it to her lips for a kiss. He looked up in surprise, and she smiled.

  “I promise you, Cody,” she said with conviction, “this house will have everything you want in a home.”

  Trust me. It’ll even have me.

  If you liked Cody, then you’ll love his brother Tyrell in

  THE WEDDING FAVOR

  the first full-length novel in the Save the Date series by Avon Books rising star

  CARA CONNELLY!

  Available in print and ebook in January 2014!

  ***

  IN HER DELICIOUSLY sexy debut novel, Cara Connelly gives a whole new meaning to crashing a wedding . . .

  Before the Wedding

  TYRELL BROWN WANTED to get the hell out of Houston and back to his ranch. Instead, he’s stuck on a flight to France for his best friend’s wedding. To top it off, he discovers he’s sharing a seat with Victoria Westin, the blue-eyed, stiletto-heeled lawyer who’s been a thorn in his side for months.

  At the Wedding

  VICTORIA CAN’T BELIEVE it! How can she be at the same wedding as this long, lean cowboy with a killer smile? So what if they shared a few in-flight cocktails, some serious flirting, and a near-miss at the mile-high club? She still can’t stand the man!

  After the Wedding

  THE WEDDING DISASTER’S in the rearview, but the sizzle between these two is still red-hot. They tried to be on their best behavior in France, but back in the states, all bets are off . . .

  Continue reading for a sneak peek at

  THE WEDDING FAVOR

  An Excerpt from

  THE WEDDING FAVOR