Holiday Intercepted

by Katana Collins

  I slipped into my jeans and a hoodie and made my way downstairs to find Taylor and Scott sitting at my kitchen table. Sitting. Talking. And not strangling each other.

  Scott was laughing into his fist, his other hand, clutching a ceramic mug of coffee. “Oh my God, Mrs. Halbersten screamed so loud when she opened her filing cabinet and found that rubber spider.”

  “You got detention for a week,” Taylor said, wiping tears from his eyes. “And you weren’t even in her class. Hell, you were only a freshman and you managed to sneak into the sophomore English class. It was genius.”

  Scott’s chuckle diminished and he sighed. “Your forgetting one important facet to that story. You didn’t let me go to detention alone. You took half the blame and joined me for two days after school in detention hall.”

  Taylor shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s because I’m awesome.”

  I cleared my throat, drawing the attention of both men. “I’m sorry… is this some sort of Christmas miracle happening right now?” I said, pointing my finger and gesturing between them. “The two of you together, and Taylor’s hands aren’t latched around your throat?”

  Taylor smiled and even though it was beautiful, it lacked the easy grace I had witnessed last night. “Your words sunk in,” he said, standing and kissing me on the forehead before grabbing an empty mug and pouring me coffee.

  “I also showed up at nine a.m. to take you to breakfast. Taylor couldn’t exactly turn me away from my own sister’s home on Christmas Eve.” Scott winked at me. “So I guess you could say it was kind of a Christmas miracle.”

  “Huh,” was all I could manage as Taylor placed the warm mug in my hand, this time bending and brushing his lips against mine. It was a sweet kiss; not long or lingering and yet, my body flushed with heat and desire as our lips made contact. I took a sip of the coffee. It was perfect. Made just to my liking. Half and half. And sweet. Sweeter than most people’s liking, but perfect for me. “How do you know how I like my coffee?”

  Taylor’s mouth curved in the sexiest half smile I’d ever seen. “There’s half and half in your fridge,” he said. “There’s really only one use for half and half—and that’s coffee. And the sugar jar had a couple little drops of coffee in it, meaning you probably use two teaspoons at least, causing the occasional drop of coffee in your sugar jar.”

  “Wow. Very… astute of you.”

  Maisey rushed toward me as I sat at the table beside Taylor, her cold nose nudging my leg. “So… what’s the plan for today, then?” I asked, still unsure of what I was seeing here between Taylor and my brother. Sure, he had said last night that he was going to make an effort with Scott. But honestly, that could have been all the whiskey talking. Or the sex talking. Pillow talk was a strange and powerful thing. I certainly didn’t expect to wake up and find them both having a civilized cup of coffee together.

  “Ski trip, then tree lighting?” Scott offered.

  I scrunched my nose. He knew I didn’t ski. I was the person who sat in the ski lodge and had cocoa while everyone else went skiing. Taylor gave me a strange look. “You don’t ski? Not even a little?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Not even the bunny slope?”

  Scott rolled his eyes. “Mom and I both tried teaching her so many times.”

  “I’m not coordinated enough to ski!” I said, crumpling up a napkin and throwing it at Scott’s face.

  “Says the girl who can do a triple pirouette,” Taylor murmured, hiding his mouth behind his coffee cup.

  “That’s a very different skillset.”

  “Well, I could use a little shopping trip today,” Taylor said with a shrug. “There’s some added Christmas gifts I need to get. Of course, we’d have to split up for a little while shopping.” He casted a wink in my direction and butterflies swirled from my chest into my stomach.

  “Does this mean you’re staying for Christmas, too?” Even after last night, I fully assumed he was going to pack up and leave before the holiday.

  He took a deep breath, his gaze latching onto mine. “If that’s okay with you?” Then, he turned slowly to look at Scott. “And you. I haven’t had a family to spend Christmas with in over a decade.”

  Scott swallowed so tight and hard that I could see it travel the line of his throat as his smile faded. “You always had the family. You just never chose to see it that way.”

  Every muscle in my body stiffened. “Scott,” I warned, my voice a low hiss.

  Taylor placed his hand on my knee, giving it a little squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “He’s right. It’s not that I didn’t have family. My dad is alive and here in town. Scott was always here, always trying to make amends. I guess it’s more appropriate to say that my perception of family has changed. And I’d love to spend Christmas with my brother and…” his words faded slowly as he added, “girlfriend, if you’ll have me.” He arched a brow, and the word girlfriend was more of a question than a statement.

  I caught my lower lip between my teeth to try to stop the stupid, giant smile spreading across my face.

  From the corner of my eyes, I could see Scott observing us, a twitching grin on his face. “Well, how can either of us say no to that?” he said, then stood, draining the last of his coffee, and shoving his arms back through his coat. “So, why don’t you guys get your shopping done while the rest of us are skiing and then we’ll all meet back up tonight at the tree trimming?” His gaze shifted briefly to me. “I have a thing after that, but it won’t be long.”

  I blinked, looking to Taylor for confirmation. His jaw tightened for only the briefest moment, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable with a giant town function. But then, he nodded. “I look forward to it,” he said.

  And with a quick pat to Maisey’s head, Scott shuffled out of the house.

  After we had breakfast, Taylor and I spent the day downtown, walking around, browsing the various small business stores.

  Maisey tugged on her leash, bounding into the snow drifts and nearly yanking my arm off.

  “So, what are some of your traditions?” Taylor asked, scuffing his feet against the shoveled sidewalk. The snow banks on either side of us were hulking and piled with freshly shoveled mountains.

  “Scott and I always get each other Christmas pajamas and a movie—usually something really atrocious— and then we draw straws to see whose movie we have to watch. We get into our new pj’s, make cocoa and watch the movie, sometimes both movies.”

  His fingers, laced with mine, squeezed in a tender gesture as he smiled in my direction. “Sounds like a pretty perfect Christmas tradition.”

  Large snowflakes continued to fall from the bright blue sky in the sort of snow that looked fake because it was so beautiful. One large snowflake landed on my cheek and with his thumb, Taylor swiped it away before bending and kissing me. I was aware of every centimeter of his body that was touching me. from the light brush of his thumb on my cheekbone to his other hand, still laced in mine; how his nose skimmed the side of my face and the way his shoulder would sometimes brush against mine with every step. And of course, his lips.

  Those skilled, full, talented lips of his.

  I moaned into his kiss, craving more. Wanting to drive my tongue into his mouth and slide it along his. Only a sense of propriety stopped me. Not only was I a teacher in this very small town, but there was already bound to be gossip spreading like wildfire at the mere sight of us walking hand in hand. But now? Making out in the town center?

  Everyone would know by the time the tree lighting began that Taylor and I were together. And I couldn’t help the small sense of unease I felt because of it. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet and I was sure that somehow, someway, this town and our history would mess it all up.

  “I want to ask you something,” Taylor said, breaking the quiet snowfall around us.

  “Okay.”

  “But I don’t want to sound crazy or like I’m moving too fast. I’m just curious.”

  W
ell, now I was curious. “Okay,” I said again. “I promise not to read too much into it.”

  He took a deep breath. “Do you ever think about moving away from Maple Grove?”

  “My brother’s here,” I answered automatically.

  “I know that. But lots of people move away from their siblings.”

  He was right, of course. “I’ve thought about it,” I answered. In truth, it was something I had thought about more times than I could count. I didn’t love Maple Grove. Sure, it was home. It was where I grew up. Where all my friends and my job were. But I could get another job. I could come visit my friends and see my brother on weekends and holidays. Hell, with how busy we both are, we barely see each other as it is.

  “I know you don’t want me reading too much into the question… but why do you ask?”

  He shrugged. “I like you. This isn’t a one-night stand for me and I want to see where things go between us. But, thinking far into the future—with no promises or guarantees, of course—”

  “Of course,” I repeated, mocking him with a smile.

  He smiled in return, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t know that I could ever move back here,” he said quietly. “So… I figured if you were hell bent on staying, that was something I should know now. To wrap my head around. Or to…”

  The words faded, but I knew what he was saying. To end things now before we get too serious.

  It was all moving fast, whether or not he wanted to admit it. But it was also so refreshing… a man who spoke his thoughts. Who didn’t play games or wait three days before texting me back just to not seem eager. He was eager. And so was I. And neither of us minced words about that.

  “Okay, honestly? I’ve never had a compelling enough reason to move,” I said. “I’ve been too chicken to audition down in Boston. And to pick up and move elsewhere just to teach at a different school district? It always seemed silly and pointless; like a lateral move. So, I stayed where I was.”

  This time, his grin widened, forming lines around his eyes. “But if you had a reason…? Like an audition that went well?”

  “If I had a good reason, I would consider moving. Not too far. I want to be close enough to drive home on weekends or meet my girlfriends halfway for brunch. I always dreamt of living in a bigger city. Not even necessarily Boston. Maybe Portland or Portsmouth or even a suburb of Boston. I could still Airbnb my home and maybe even Airbnb both sides of my house and make double the income to support me while I audition—”

  My voice broke as I realized what I had just admitted to him. My ultimate dream. Moving away. Supporting myself with the rental and truly trying to become an actress. Voicing that dream was scarier than I thought and my cheeks heated as a whole new kind of butterfly took flight in my stomach. I was utterly mortified. That was the sort of dream a child had—not a grown woman who had a full-time job, health insurance, and a Roth IRA.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Taylor said, sneaking Maisey’s leash out of my hands and taking hold of the reigns.

  “You do?”

  “Absolutely. And not just because it’s a plan I could see myself fitting into nicely.”

  I smacked his arm. “You said not to read into it and here you are moving into my dream with me!”

  He laughed, tossing his head back as Maisey jumped on her hind legs, prancing around him. “All in due time,” he said with a wink. “Now… can you bide some time while I go take care of your Christmas present?”

  I pushed onto my toes, kissing him quickly on the lips. “Yes. Any particular store I should steer clear of?”

  He scanned the sidewalk, both on our side and across the street. “Why don’t you take the stores on this side first and I’ll start on that side of the street. Let’s meet back here in thirty minutes? We can then switch sides if we need to.”

  I nodded. “Sounds like a plan, Mr. Wilson.”

  I reached for the leash, but he snatched it away, holding it behind his back. “Nuh-uh. I’m taking Maisey.”

  11

  Taylor

  I walked into the pharmacy and headed straight for the photo developing center. To be honest, I didn’t even know if they had these anymore in brick and mortar stores considering how everything had gone so digital.

  I walked up to the counter and found a young woman standing behind it wearing a Santa hat and a smile. “Hi,” I said, tugging Maisey into my side. “I was hoping you could help me.” I reached into my messenger bag and pulled out the framed image of Paige’s mom that I had snagged from her nightstand. I was hoping I could get it back upstairs before she would notice it was missing. It was challenging enough grabbing it as we made our way out the door. “Are you able to scan and enlarge prints here?”

  Her smile widened and she nodded. “Of course. If you want to remove the image from the frame, I can take care of that for you.”

  “It’s also in rough shape. Can you do anything to restore it?”

  “I’ll have to take a closer look, but I bet I can improve it at least a little.”

  I unlatched the back of the frame, and as I pulled the backing off, Maisey tugged free from my hold, bolting toward another shopper. “Oh my God, Maisey no!” I launched after her. If I lost Paige’s dog, she would never forgive me.

  Lucky for me, Maisey was obsessed with people and she had jumped onto her hind legs, licking the face of the first shopper she found.

  I grabbed her leash, tugging her away. Every muscle in my body went rigid when I saw that the customer Maisey had jumped on was my father.

  He looked just as shocked as I did. His eyes wide. Mouth parted in awe as he stared at me. “Taylor?” His voice was raw and raspier than I remembered. His hair was still full, but greyer than I remember. “Someone told me you were coming home this weekend, but I didn’t believe them.”

  I snorted. “Home, huh? Like this place will ever be my home again.”

  He winced and I immediately felt bad that those were my first words to the man in years. Sure, I had seen him since high school. I wasn’t that big of a dick. But it also wasn’t frequent. And it was never here in Maple Grove. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Force of habit.”

  He held a box of Russel Stover chocolates in his hand and a poinsettia. His gaze dipped to Maisey. “You got a dog?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s—” Well, shit. Just how much of my new situation did I want to reveal to him? “She belongs to a girl I’m seeing.”

  His eyes went a fraction wider, but he covered it well. He was a lawyer; he was damn good at hiding his emotions. He leaned down and petted Maisey behind the ears. “She’s… exuberant.”

  Dad swallowed, his broad shoulders tight and his back ramrod straight. We were eye to eye, almost the exact same height, and looking at him was like looking into a mirror that could foreshadow my future. “So, are you staying the night? Sticking around for Christmas?”

  My throat burned, but I nodded through the discomfort, dropping my gaze to his platinum wedding band. He had remarried five years ago and begged me to come to the wedding. But I didn’t. I was still drowning in my loathing for him and what he did to Mom. I didn’t want to celebrate his new love, his new potential happiness. “I was planning to.” I hated that sense of shame I felt. I’d spent so many years being angry and resentful. Not even trying to move beyond that emotion and for what? For some sense of vitriol over the man? What good had that done for me in twelve years?

  The silence between us was heavy, and when I finally looked up into his eyes again, I could see the pain. “I should have called,” I said quietly.

  His only answer for a long moment was a slow shrug. “It’s okay, Taylor.”

  “Sir?” the woman behind the counter called my attention back. “I hope you don’t mind… I took the image out of the frame for you.” She held up the 4x6 print of Paige’s mom and I watched helplessly as my dad’s gaze lifted, connecting with the picture.

  “Why do you have a picture of Vicki?” he asked, walking toward it
.

  Well, shit. “I’m, um, printing out a better copy for Paige… her daughter.”

  If I thought he looked shocked before… his expression now looked like he’d seen a damn ghost. “Of course I know Paige,” he said. “She’s a sweet girl.”

  “It’ll be ready in about thirty minutes,” the woman behind the counter said and then disappeared into the back, happy to get away from whatever awkward conversation this was. Not that I could blame her. If I could have scurried the fuck away behind a counter, I would have, too.

  “Dad,” I said quietly. “Maybe Paige and I could swing by tonight… after the tree lighting.”

  Did I say he looked like he saw a ghost? Make that a thousand ghosts. His eyes pooled with unshed tears and I tried to ignore the burning sensation in my sinuses as well.

  “Olivia makes this yearly pot roast on Christmas Eve for the whole family…”

  Shit. I forgot it was Christmas Eve. Of course he had plans. “Hey, it’s okay. Maybe next time I’m in town—”

  “No,” he said quickly, cutting me off. “No, I was going to say you should stop by. Even if it’s just quickly. Bring Paige, too, of course. She’s actually been before. With her—with Scott.”

  She’d been to my dad’s house on Christmas before. With Scott. Because he’s family. I swallowed hard and nodded. “I need to check with her. Make sure that’s okay and she doesn’t have her own traditions or anything…”

  A smile flickered on Dad’s lips. “It’s still new, huh?”

  He had no idea. “Very.”

  We stayed silently like that for a few moments longer before Dad cleared his throat and wiped at the corner of his eye. “Thank you, Taylor,” he said.

  “For what?” I didn’t really do anything. If anything, seeing the hurt in his eyes, I’d say we were pretty damn even in terms of how much pain we’d caused each other.

  “For showing me that Christmas miracles still exist.”