Merry Christmas, Baby

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He set that notion firmly aside. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “You still don’t.” She held out the breadboard. “For all you know, this tastes like Styrofoam.”

  He picked up the heel, bit into its soft center, and closed his eyes. Heaven.

  “It must be all right.”

  “Mmm.” He glanced at her and nodded enthusiastically as he chewed.

  “Fortunately my mom taught me to bake when I was a kid. I picked up basic cooking skills when I realized my dad was hopeless in the kitchen. Of course, now he has Helen.”

  Grasping at a subject that didn’t involve naked bodies, he asked about her family as they both dug into the beef stew.

  She chose to ignore her dad and Helen and talk about her siblings, instead. Kathy, four years younger than she was, had married and moved to Ohio. Steven was finishing a degree in engineering at the University of Wyoming. Even given Lacey’s reluctance to celebrate Christmas, Tucker was surprised she wasn’t with her family right now, and he said as much.

  “I know it’s not very evolved of me, but I grit my teeth whenever I have to watch the way Helen celebrates Christmas,” she said. “So I keep my participation to a minimum. This year I used Lenny as an excuse. I told them he was likely to propose over the holiday, and that I thought the two of us should create our own special memories by renting this cute little cabin for a week during Christmas.”

  “Do they know Lenny’s not here with you?”

  “No. I decided when he bailed that I’d keep that info to myself and come out here alone. The irony is that I really had planned to have a semi-normal Christmas with him. He likes the holiday, so I was going to make an effort for his sake, sort of to prove I could.”

  Tucker put down his spoon. “What happened with Lenny?” He cared about her broken heart and was willing to let her talk it out. That didn’t mean he had to make it all better with some good sex, though. There was such a thing as self-preservation.

  “Two weeks ago he met somebody he liked better, somebody who didn’t have—to use his phrase—my baggage.”

  Tucker had the immediate urge to clean the guy’s clock. “Hell, everyone has baggage.”

  “I know.” She sliced off two more pieces of bread and gestured for him to take one. “Maybe Lenny and his girlfriend, Suzanne, have matching luggage tags.”

  “Could be, but I’ll bet they’re attached to the most boring suitcases in the world, that black nylon kind a million other people have.”

  She smiled at him. “I like to think so.”

  “Whereas yours has style. It might even be purple.”

  That made her laugh. “Okay, that’s my new slogan. I may have baggage, but I carry it with style.”

  “You do, Lacey.” He picked up his wineglass and lifted it in her direction. The sparkle was back in her blue eyes, and he liked seeing that. “You definitely do.”

  “Thanks, Tucker.” She lifted her glass, too. “So do you.”

  She wouldn’t think so if she knew what a screwup he’d been recently. He wished now that he’d made more of himself in the years since they’d last met. She’d probably earned a degree before landing her Forest Service job.

  Then something occurred to him. “Did you go into forestry because of the trees?” Once the words were out of his mouth, he realized how stupid that sounded. Didn’t everybody who majored in forestry love trees? “I mean, because you used to love the evergreens at Christmas time.”

  She paused, a spoonful of stew halfway to her mouth, and stared at him. “You are the only person who’s made that connection. I didn’t realize it myself until recently, when I started thinking about celebrating a real Christmas here with Lenny and knew I’d want a real tree.”

  “But you gave up the idea when he…” He wasn’t sure what term to use that wouldn’t be insulting.

  “When he dumped me. You can say it. It’s the truth, after all. And a girl who’s been dumped right before Christmas usually isn’t ready to deck the halls with boughs of holly, if you get my drift.” She continued eating her stew.

  “Maybe that’s exactly the time to do it.”

  She stopped eating and gazed at him. “How so?”

  “You were going to celebrate Christmas for Lenny’s sake, right?”

  “Yeah, but obviously I picked the wrong guy to jump-start my Christmas spirit. He’s pushed me right back into bah-humbug territory.”

  Tucker recognized that kind of thinking. For years he’d seen himself as a victim of circumstance. Hearing it coming from Lacey was unsettling. Funny how much easier it was to figure out what other people should do to make themselves happy.

  “Tucker, why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I’m just wondering why you’d break out the decorations for a guy, but not for yourself. Why let his dumb decisions keep you from celebrating if you have the urge to do it?”

  She frowned. “I’m not saying I wanted to, but I thought it was time to see if I could, because depriving him of the holiday wasn’t fair.”

  “Is it fair to deprive yourself? When we talked outside the gym, I got the impression that you used to love Christmas, especially the way your mother celebrated it.” And so had he. His words were as much directed at himself as at her.

  Her expression softened. “I did love it back then, but I can’t re-create that kind of Christmas because my mom was such a huge part of it, and she’s gone. I thought maybe I’d try for some new traditions with Lenny, but bravely forging my own rituals without anyone to share them seems a little desperate and pathetic.”

  “I get that. I’ve thought exactly the same thing, so in the past I’ve spent Christmas Eve in a bar, which is desperate and pathetic in its own way.”

  “I usually plan a trip somewhere tropical.” She shrugged. “It sort of works.”

  He had a sudden image of Lacey in a bikini sipping an umbrella drink. He shoved that image away immediately. “That’s classier than my option.”

  “Last Christmas I talked Lenny into flying to Bermuda, but he hated that it didn’t feel like Christmas. I still wasn’t ready to spend the holiday at his family’s house or mine, so this was the compromise.”

  Tucker blew out a breath. “I’m sorry it all fell apart, Lacey. He’s an impatient creep who doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

  “To be honest, I was having doubts about the relationship. We weren’t clicking the way I thought a committed couple should. Spending Christmas here was going to be a kind of test.” She grimaced. “Guess it was, at that.”

  “You’re way better off. You deserve somebody special.” Any guy who rejected such a wonderful woman was terminally stupid.

  “Thanks.” Once again her eyes took on a happy gleam.

  He hoped his next suggestion wouldn’t bring back the shadows that had lurked in her gaze earlier. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, we’re stuck together for at least tonight, and we understand each other’s take on Christmas. I’m thinking it’s the perfect chance to get over ourselves and celebrate the damned holiday.”

  3

  “CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS?” Lacey couldn’t believe he’d said that. Of all the people in the world, Tucker seemed the least likely to suggest such a thing. “We can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t bring any decorations, for one thing. I had planned to, but when Lenny bailed, I donated all the stuff I’d bought to the Salvation Army.”

  “Except the soap.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Ah, yes, the soap. It was a secret Santa thing at work, and I happened to be out of soap, so I brought it on this trip instead of throwing it in the Salvation Army donation bag. Are you suggesting we prop the soap on the mantel and call it good?”

  He grinned at her. “It’s a start.”

  That grin was lethal. She didn’t really want to decorate for Christmas, but if he did, she was willing to go along just on the basis of that killer smile. He also had a point about celebrating with someone who understood the is
sues. She wouldn’t have to fake anything with Tucker.

  “I have some emergency candles in case the power goes out,” she said. “We could put one on each side of the soap.”

  He nodded. “See how this plan is taking shape already?”

  “Oh, yeah. We’ll rival Rockefeller Center in no time.”

  “Don’t make fun. Santa soap and candles could look really nice on the mantel, even if the candles aren’t beeswax, which I’m guessing they’re not.”

  “Nope. Just those cheap white paraffin kind.” She gazed at him, marveling that he’d remembered a detail like beeswax candles. “So you really were listening when we had that conversation.”

  “Of course. Got any popcorn?”

  “A couple of bags of the microwave kind, but—”

  “Needle and thread?”

  “Some. I carry a little sewing kit in my cosmetic bag, but—”

  He pushed back his chair. “Then let’s get popping. It needs to cool before we string it.”

  “Tucker, we don’t have a tree.”

  “Don’t worry.” His green gaze found hers. “We will.” Then he walked over and took his coat and hat off the peg where it was hanging by the front door.

  “Wait a minute.” She stood and followed him. “You can’t go out there and cut down a tree. I’m renting this place. The landlord would have a fit.”

  “I’m not going to cut it down.” He settled his hat on his head. “I’ll dig it up. Then we can put it back in the ground later. No one has to know.”

  “The ground’s frozen.”

  “Most places, yes, but on the sunny side of the cabin, it might not be as hard.” He shoved his arms into the sleeves of his sheepskin coat.

  “But there’s a blizzard going on!” As if to emphasize the fact, the wind howled down the chimney and made the fire gyrate wildly.

  “That makes it more exciting.” He dazzled her with another smile. That, combined with the shadow of a beard, made him look rakish and slightly dangerous.

  “You’re crazy.” Breathing quickly, both from the zing of attraction and her determination to stop him, she backed against the door, arms spread. “I won’t let you go out there.”

  He winked, the picture of male assurance. “Yeah, you will. We’re going to do this.”

  “No, we aren’t. People get lost and die in snowstorms, sometimes when they’re within a few feet of shelter because they get lost in all that whiteness.”

  He buttoned up his coat. “I know that. I promise to stay close enough to the cabin and the outbuilding that I can still see them.”

  “You could get distracted looking for a tree to dig up.”

  “I could, but I won’t. By the way, do you have a shovel in your Jeep?”

  “I’m not going to tell you.”

  “Which means yes.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She remained planted firmly in front of the door. “I’m not moving.”

  His gaze reflected amusement as it swept over her. “I should warn you that once I get an idea in my head, I can’t let it go.”

  “You’ll have to let this one go.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “I’ve been involved in too many search and rescue missions to allow you to take the chance of freezing to death out there. I’d given you more credit for good sense.”

  “There’s your first mistake.” And without warning, he leaned in and kissed her.

  Her gasp of surprise allowed him to deepen the kiss, which quickly evolved into something spectacular. Bracing both hands against the door beside her head, he angled his mouth over hers and pressed in deep. The sweet invasion made her forget whatever silly argument they’d been having.

  As his lips moved against hers in slow seduction, as his tongue explored with lazy intent, her senses rocketed back to the night of the Christmas formal. Yes, this was how she remembered his kiss—a take-no-prisoners assault that reduced her to a ragdoll willing to surrender to whatever he wanted.

  She clutched his shoulders as the room seemed to spin. When he lifted his head to smile down at her, she realized the room hadn’t been spinning, but she had. He’d circled her waist with both hands and turned her around so that she no longer blocked the door. She’d been so immersed in his kiss that she hadn’t noticed.

  “I promise not to get lost in the snow,” he said. Then he released her and was out the door before she could frame a response.

  “You don’t fight fair!” she called after him when she managed to catch her breath.

  The door opened a crack. “Nuke the popcorn!” Then he closed the door and was gone.

  Grabbing the doorknob, she pulled the door open. A blast of frigid air filled with wet snow hit her in the face. “Use the rope!” She hurled the command out into the bitter cold where she could barely see him, head down, burrowing into the storm like a linebacker. “There’s a long rope in the Jeep!”

  “Thanks!” His answer was faint, but at least he’d heard and acknowledged her order.

  She closed the door and stood there shivering, her arms wrapped protectively around her body. He was nuts, crazy as a loon. What kind of man risked his safety to bring a Christmas tree to a woman who didn’t want to celebrate in the first place?

  Yet she sensed that this wasn’t all about her. In helping to slay her demons, he was also facing down his own. She couldn’t very well deny him the chance to do that, and if he used the rope, tying it to the latch on the outbuilding and then around his waist, he would have a lifeline back to safety.

  The rope was part of her search and rescue gear, but it would serve the purpose of orienting Tucker while he tried to locate a tree. People who lived in this part of the country often tied rope lines between the house and the barn so they’d have something to guide them when they checked on the animals during a snowstorm. Knowing Tucker would use that rope made her feel marginally better about him taking on this job.

  He’d been a reckless kid in high school, and so far he’d confirmed that he still possessed that trait. Taking a snowmobile into the teeth of a storm to chase a runaway horse might be brave, but it was also foolish. If the horse had run in a different direction, away from all habitation… She didn’t like to think how that might have turned out.

  And yet, his reckless nature was part of what made him so sexy. When he’d impulsively kissed her, mostly to get his own way about the tree, she’d tasted a kind of thrilling abandon that didn’t come her way often. In fact, she hadn’t encountered it since the night of the Christmas formal.

  Was that kiss simply a means to an end, getting past her objections to his plan? Or would he take it a step further when he returned? Then again, maybe he’d wait for her to make the next move.

  Now that he was outside, she had a chance to think more clearly about what might or might not happen between them tonight. She should decide what she wanted now instead of making that decision in the heat of the moment. As she’d just discovered, a moment with Tucker could get very hot very fast.

  Oh, who was she kidding? There was no decision to be made here. Her fantasy man had appeared on her doorstep when neither of them was committed to someone else. If she ever intended to discover what making love to Tucker was all about, now was the time.

  And that prospect set her panties on fire. She hurried into the bathroom and rummaged through her cosmetic case to see if…yes! She still had the box of condoms she’d become accustomed to taking along on trips with Lenny. He never seemed to remember, which should have been another sign that he was the wrong guy. The right guy wouldn’t leave that responsibility up to the woman in his life.

  She tucked the box back into the case and closed the lid. Her heart was beating so fast she pressed a hand to her chest and took a shaky breath. She had the man, and she had the condoms. This could be the best Christmas Eve of her entire life.

  AS NEEDLES OF SNOW HIT his cheeks and the wind threatened to blow him over on his way to the outbuilding, Tucker considered the fact that Lacey might be right. He very well could be crazy
for coming out here to dig up a tree. Back in the cabin he’d pictured himself as a valiant hero who braved the storm to bring her an evergreen on Christmas Eve.

  But when a guy made a boast like that, he had to produce or come off as a braggart who couldn’t follow through. The possibility of staggering back into the cabin, treeless and frozen, hadn’t occurred to him when he’d left. It sure as hell occurred to him now that he was in a pitched battle with the wind and snow.

  Adding to his idiocy was his most recent move—kissing Lacey. He really shouldn’t have done that, but kissing her had seemed like a better option than standing there arguing with her. He’d known it would distract her.

  Maybe, somewhere in his pea brain, he’d hoped she wouldn’t kiss the way he remembered, which would help him put the brakes on his lust. But no. If anything, his memory hadn’t done justice to the experience of going mouth-to-mouth with Lacey.

  He thought again of Lenny and couldn’t imagine how anyone could give up kisses like that. Maybe she didn’t kiss Lenny the same way. Maybe Tucker brought out her inner wild woman.

  Yeah, right. That kind of thinking was exactly what got him into trouble every damned time. He’d decide that the woman in question had never had someone love her right, and it was up to him, Supercock, to give her the kind of pleasure she deserved. He needed to forget that crap.

  At the moment, he had one heroic job, and that involved digging up a Christmas tree. That should cool his jets for the time being. The storm was a humdinger.

  Luckily he was moving into the wind, which pushed his hat onto his head. But on the way back he’d be in danger of losing it, especially if and when he dug up a tree and had to wrangle that back to the cabin. He was definitely nuts for doing this.

  Well, maybe not entirely. He and Lacey really did need to get over their holiday issues. Speaking for himself, the idea of making Christmas happen for the first time since his mom died held a certain appeal. He’d never been moved to do it for anyone else, but he was obviously a sucker for Lacey. Sharing a Christmas celebration with her seemed like the right thing to do on many counts.