One Week in December

by Alexis Anne, Audra North, Julia Kelly, Alexandra Haughton

  “I might look like some artist’s rendering of Jesus, but I’m definitely human. Very human.”

  * * * * *

  The minute he’d walked into the chapel, he’d seen her. Had known in an instant it was her dark head bent low, laughing with Caroline about something.

  How—?

  He’d spent the better part of the service trying to convince himself that he couldn’t be so lucky. Couldn’t just walk into a chapel on Christmas Eve and have everything he’d wanted presented to him.

  Nobody at the Thanksgiving party had known who Maggie was when he’d all but begged them for contact information the day he’d woken up in his hotel and she’d been gone. He thought he’d never see her again—and then a thousand miles away… there she was.

  “Why did you introduce yourself to me tonight?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said, ‘hi, I’m Maggie.’” And it bugged him. He knew who she was—even if he hadn’t known who she was.

  She smoothed down the baby’s dress, ignoring him. Turning completely away, she laid the baby in her stroller, fussed with a blanket, before finally saying, “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure you’d remember—”

  “I remember everything about that night.”

  She breathed out a long breath, and finally—finally!—looked him in the eye. “I’m not sure you should.”

  “I remember you were naked.”

  “Chris!” She looked around, guilty, though no one inside had likely heard, the way they were singing about angels. She moved behind the stroller and started up a little push-pull he supposed was meant to soothe the baby. It just agitated him, that she put distance between them.

  Again.

  “You were in my arms. For hours. But I also remember how we talked before that.”

  “Don’t.”

  Impossible. He could no more forget the list of things he remembered about her than he could turn back time. In the days and weeks after that night, he’d tried to find her. Spent distracted days at work worrying about her, wishing he could ask how she was doing. How she was taking her parents’ breakup.

  But mainly he remembered the shape of her mouth. The way she said his name as she moved under him. Over him. Until they’d fallen asleep with the sun streaming in the windows, reflecting off the lake so brightly he’d rolled over and buried his face in her hair.

  And then woken up to an empty bed and a knock on the door from housekeeping.

  Reaching out, he ran a thumb over her lips, tunneled his fingers through her hair. She was here.

  “You lied to me.” Her accusation was softened by the way she leaned into his touch.

  “I didn’t tell one lie that night—”

  “Flynn?”

  That was all she was hung up on? That he’d introduced himself as Chris? “Phil has called me Flynn since the day we met.”

  She started to back away, and it was hell to let her go.

  But she couldn’t slip away this time.

  Phil’s little girl stirred in her cozy cocoon, reinforcing their connection. This could either be awesome or disintegrate into a bunch of drama.

  He sent up a silent prayer that it would be awesome.

  “Christopher Flynn. The name on my passport. No lies.” He held a hand to his heart. “Just me.”

  Maggie stood in a halo of sunset washing through the windows. She was twisting the bottom of her sweater, and, every so often, a jewel like button would flash bright fire. He couldn’t stop looking at her. Memorizing every detail. Wouldn’t surprise him to wake up only to find she’d disappeared once again, like she did most nights in his dreams.

  He’d thought her fragile beauty intriguing when they’d first met, sipping beers out on the balcony to escape the suffocating heat and press of the bar’s crowded interior. And later, he’d been so damned dazzled by their lovemaking.

  But now she was a lodestone.

  He’d never really had a home—just a series of houses growing up following the Colonel and then his own foreign appointments—and it stunned him to realize just how much he wanted to make a home. With her. With this woman he’d known for twelve hours, a month ago.

  She waved her hands, as if she’d heard his thoughts. Or seen the too-honest intensity in his gaze. “It’s more than our names. I was in a weird place that night. And you were—well, you were wonderful.”

  A thrill shot through him. And then she hurried on. “No, it doesn’t even need to be about that. Look,” she said. “There’s nothing more to it than I wanted sex. You wanted sex. So we had sex. Lots of it, and…”

  “I missed you.”

  Chapter 2

  “You—me?” Her mind stuttered to a stop. Maggie had this grown-up, cool explanation all worked out, and then he’d gone and made her cold, dead heart flop inside her chest.

  “Yeah. I searched for you. Grieved for you. Thought I’d never see you again.”

  Oh, he was doing it again. Making her feel. Making her want.

  Just like the night they’d met, Maggie got swept away in the tidal wave of caring. He cared about her. Listened to her. And just happened to be the most attractive human being she’d ever seen in her life.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to return the sentiment. To tell him that she’d regretted leaving since the instant she’d slipped out from under his arm, into her clothes, and out the door. But then he was there because she had moved closer, or he had moved closer, or they had both followed the irresistible pull of attraction between them, and she was in his arms. Again.

  And she forgot about feeling like she didn’t belong—forgot about that cold, dark part of her that felt betrayed by her parents, that didn’t believe in love or forever anymore—and just… fell.

  She fell into a kiss that heated her from the lobes of her ears down to her toes and all the delicious places in between. Especially those places.

  It was so easy to get lost in their kiss, to ignore everything that hurt and just feel.

  Until feeling started to hurt too much, and she had to pull back.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” She winced at the accusing tone in her voice—and at what it implied—for she had been just as involved in that kiss as he had been.

  “Done what?” His eyes were huge and dark, the golden hazel of his iris barely a glimmer.

  “Kissed me. Like that.” She couldn’t look in those eyes. Couldn’t lose herself in that heated gaze. He was so big, he blotted out everything. Everywhere she looked, he was there, until she took another step back and bumped into Lena’s stroller.

  The music swelled. There was applause. And a portrait of Jesus on the wall behind him. “Oh my God, we are in church.”

  He grinned a lopsided and utterly charming grin and started to reach for her again. “I don’t think there’s a rule about not kissing in church. I feel the spirit moving me when I’m with you.” He laughed low, then sobered. Took her hand. “How are you doing? Really? I know it can’t be easy for you this Christmas and—”

  And she just kind of crumpled into his arms. Like they hadn’t just stood there and whisper-fought and made out in the narthex over a baby’s stroller.

  * * * * *

  “Oh good. There you are!”

  A woman in a red sweater came flying in their direction waving a sheet of paper. Maggie pulled back, but he kept an arm around her.

  “You were supposed to meet me in the rehearsal room fifteen minutes ago. We have no time. Here. Put these on.” She started taking pieces of cloth out of a garment bag he hadn’t noticed and divvying them up.

  “I think you’ve made a mistake.” Maggie was shaking her head, looking a little horrified. “We aren’t—”

  “Yes, well, you are a little old to be a convincing Mary,” the woman snapped. “But we don’t have time for this. Here are your costumes. You’ll have to wear them over your clothes.”

  Chris barely caught the brown bundle the little woman in the red sweater threw at him before lobbing a similar
blue bundle at Maggie.

  “There’s no time. Just roll up your pants, Joseph. Oh, Mary,” the woman fussed, “of course you’re wearing tights. Well, just slip these sandals on, take small steps, and maybe nobody will notice. At least your baby is adorable.”

  Jesus. Mary. And Joseph. Oh, this was unexpected. And kind of a hoot, considering, well, everything. “Just take small steps, Maggie,” he joked.

  She shot him a look. “I’m not sure Caroline wants little baby Lena in the limelight like this.”

  “People, we have no time. “Away in a Manger” is after this next reading, and we need you two to be in place!”

  He could tell this poor volunteer’s patience was growing thin. What would it hurt, really? As long as they didn’t have any lines.

  “We don’t have any lines, do we?”

  “Did Lynn not tell you anything?” She rolled her eyes in a particularly unchristian way. “No. Just stand there and look holy.”

  Maggie wasn’t having any of it. “I really don’t think, I mean, this is a mistake. We aren’t actors, and—”

  “Ma’am. Maggie, is that your name? This isn’t Broadway. Not even close. But please,” she consulted her watch, “put on this costume and be on that stage in ten minutes, or else…”

  Chris grinned and moved to whisper in her ear. “Come on. Let’s save Christmas, shall we?”

  “I’m not singing,” she said mutinously.

  “Just look holy, that’s all I ask.”

  He slipped on his Joseph costume. When he came up for air, the woman was tying a rope belt around his waist and fussing at Maggie to hide her hair better.

  She looked stunning in the light blue gown. It made her skin luminous, and it was a damned shame she had to hide her long, dark hair.

  Apparently he was supposed to figure out his own head covering, because the lady in the red sweater moved on to Maggie and was pushing and pulling at her costume. “It has to be full here, in the front—you just gave birth. Stop trying to be vain and nip in your waist.”

  She swatted Maggie’s hands away and fiddled with the fabric before turning her head and commanding him to undress the baby.

  “No.” Maggie said firmly. “She’ll freeze in there.”

  “Baby Jesus can’t wear ruffles, and besides, her swaddling clothes, I mean, baby Jesus’ swaddling clothes, are super cozy. There’s not even real hay in the manger—”

  “I am not putting my goddaughter in a manger.”

  “Here.” No stranger to diplomacy—and didn’t this rival the most elaborate embassy dinner?—Chris had rooted around in the diaper bag and found a knit blanket. “Let’s just put her in this.”

  The woman gasped. “Absolutely not. Jesus cannot wear polkadotted swaddling clothes.”

  “Then she can wear my head covering. Non negotiable.”

  “Fine. Five minutes.”

  They made short work of unwrapping Lena from her Christmas finery. He and Maggie were a pretty good team, and, before he knew it, they were entering the chapel during a musical interlude.

  There was a soft piano playing, lots of awwwwwws, especially when Lena made a little peep peep sound as they walked down the aisle.

  When they passed Phil and Caroline’s pew, Trey shouted his name and pointed. He waved, and when he looked over at Maggie, she shrugged and pulled a face at Caroline. The couple died laughing, and he supposed they did make a sight—their best friends and baby transformed into the holy family.

  The closer they got to their spot on the steps, the more tense Maggie got. He hadn’t stopped to think she might be protesting because she was nervous about being in front of people. He kept a supportive hand on her back, took her arm, and guided her to their spot on the side of the small stage.

  She looked up at him then, and her cheeks turned pink when he gave her a reassuring wink. Once they were seated, Maggie relaxed little by little. And it gave him a thrill as she leaned back into him.

  When the music started, she cuddled the baby close and cooed to her. The spotlight on them was warm—and he bet every man in the place couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He certainly couldn’t.

  She was radiant. She absolutely took his breath away.

  He hummed along to the music, not sure he should be singing along with the lyrics, but he had to do something besides give in to the suffocating pleasure of watching her rock the baby back and forth.

  He scanned the crowd. A habit deeply engrained. For however long they were up here, it was his privilege to protect his little family.

  * * * * *

  Nobody stirred—except the antsy children in the packed chapel. It was a solemn moment broken only by Lena deciding she’d had enough of this holy infant business.

  Maggie couldn’t calm her down and was a little bit panicked until Chris leaned down and took her in his arms. Lena made a few more little squawks, reminding everyone she was there, and then settled in.

  Looking up at them stirred some crazy tender feelings Maggie couldn’t explain. Okay, she could explain them. She could definitely explain why the sight of a huge man cradling a baby was hot. She’d even had that weird vintage poster on the wall of her freshman dorm—shirtless guy in jeans holding a baby. No wonder she didn’t get laid until well after her freshman year. Boys must have taken one look at that poster and felt panicked and overwhelmed.

  Chris didn’t look overwhelmed. He looked gorgeous and right as he sang to the little baby then looked over to her with a grin.

  She couldn’t have sung a note if her life depended on it. Her heart had lodged in her throat and tears threatened by the time “Away in a Manger” ended and the lights dimmed.

  A soft spotlight hit them, and the preacher started talking about candles and being the light of the world, and a million other preachery things Maggie had heard her entire life. But nothing about this was routine.

  Soon the front of the church was lit, the first strains of “Silent Night” rang out of the piano somewhere behind them, and the congregation joined in.

  Chris was at her side, snuggling both her and the baby close, and it was too much to bear.

  Everything was so beautiful, so… whole… and this fragile feeling would not last. Couldn’t last.

  This wasn’t her family. Chris and Lena weren’t hers. There would be no happily ever afters—for her or for the little family they portrayed.

  Tomorrow, heck, even in thirty minutes from now, this feeling would be like so much smoke lingering after all the candles were extinguished. There for a minute, then forgotten.

  She was crying.

  Shit, she’d broken character. Double shit, she’d thought the word shit while in church. While playing the Virgin Mary.

  The piano fell silent once the entire chapel had their candles lit, and she was relieved it was over.

  But it wasn’t over. People were singing last verse a capella, and Maggie thought her heart was going to break.

  Chris bent to lay Lena in her arms, then wiped her tears. Holy God, she was mortified. But he was so tender, so gentle, the tears didn’t stop. Another took its place. Then another. But he wiped those away, too, and then he bent to kiss her.

  In front of God and everybody.

  Chapter 3

  Somehow the song ended. The service was over. Someone was saying something about going in peace. And then the woman who had thrust the costumes at them out in the hall was beckoning them out a side exit.

  He helped Maggie get to her feet and down the stairs. When they got to the door, red sweater was there with the stroller. She was all smiles this time.

  “Oh, you two were very good. Very good. I’m not sure there was a dry eye in the house. I’ll definitely be calling on you for next year; although, we’ll have to get you a new baby Jesus, of course, since yours will be aged out.

  “But that kiss? I mean, it was touching, but it was a little bit racy for the 5pm candlelight Christmas Eve service. Oh, here, I brought your stroller round back so you can get your little one situ
ated.”

  That kiss.

  What had he been thinking?

  “I’ve got to get things in place for the 8pm service,” she continued, hurrying around the room. “So if you’ll just leave the costumes hanging over there, that would be great.”

  When the door shut behind her, he looked around at the little antechamber. There was another door on the other side, and rows and rows of navy choir robes hanging in perfect order.

  “Maggie.”

  She waved him away and mumbled something that sounded like, “well that was unexpected.”

  It was clear she didn’t want to talk about it, and since he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to say, there was nothing left to do but shed their costumes.

  He watched as she got Lena back into her holiday duds. There was none of the urgency of before, so she waved off his offer of help. And what did he know about putting ruffle-bottom tights on a sleeping baby and settling her into her stroller anyway?

  Then he watched as Maggie took off her oversized tunic, peeling it off to reveal her bright red skirt and long, long legs once more. After she removed her head scarf, she bent to fluff out her hair. When their eyes met, her smile was a little wobbly. Her hand hovered in space a beat too long.

  It was like the strange morning after they’d never had.

  Because she’d left. She’d wanted to leave, and it was her right to do so. And all indications pointed to her leaving again. Not in body. No, they were tied together now through their friends. But she was mentally checking out. Compartmentalizing. Putting on a game face.

  The noise coming from the sanctuary was an indistinct roar. Outside the door, people were filing out, stopping to chat, and going about the rest of their day.

  He had the distinct feeling whatever happened next would dictate everything. But for once in his life, he didn’t have a plan. Didn’t have a clue how to proceed. He just stood there in an oversized sack watching as she put herself back together.

  While he felt like he was coming apart.