by Naima Simone
Nessa chuckled. “Just a wee bit.” She pinched her fingers together, squinting, and laughed again. “But thank you. For the invitation to lunch and the food. It’s really nice of you.”
“Thank you for accepting. Like I said a couple of days ago, I don’t want to push you.” He picked up his red cloth napkin, flicked it open and spread it over his lap. “So tell me, Nessa. What is your favorite food?”
“Chicken and dumplings, hands down. Mom and I had a tradition. She used to make it the first time it snowed. After she got sick, I made it for her.”
Surprise winged through her. She’d been able to mention her mother without a wave of grief rolling through her. Yes, it was there—it probably always would be—but it had dulled to where she could talk about a favorite meal of theirs without wanting to shut down.
“I remember your mom’s chicken and dumplings. She made it for us while we were here. And you’re right. It was an amazing dish. I’m stealing your answer. Next. Favorite movie?”
And so an hour went with them eating a delicious meal and swapping favorite colors, books, TV shows, music, actors, anything they could think of to share. Even when she couldn’t eat another bite, they continued to talk, moving to one of the sitting areas in front of a huge fireplace.
“Your necklace,” Garrett murmured. “Where did you get it? The ring?”
Holding her cup of coffee in one hand, she touched the piece of jewelry. “This? It was Mom’s. She wore it for as long as I can remember.”
“I gave it to her.”
“Did you really?”
“Yes.” He lowered his head, and for a moment, silence claimed them. When he spoke, his voice had thickened. “I gave it to her days before she left Rose Bend as a promise ring. I can’t believe she kept it all these years.”
“She never took it off. Not until...the end.”
“I’m glad.”
Garrett peered into the fire, and she allowed him several minutes of peace. She needed them, too. Wow. All those years, her mother had held a piece of the man she’d loved, the father of her daughter, close. She’d loved him to the end. Nessa now believed that.
“Why haven’t I seen you at any of the Christmas events, Garrett?” Nessa sipped from her perfectly brewed coffee. She didn’t know how much it cost to stay at the resort, but a good part of that fee must go to food and beverage. Because they were top-notch. “I thought most of the town turned out for them.”
“I host the annual dance for Yulefest here at the lodge, but I haven’t been one who celebrates Christmas much. My parents are gone—they both died before I left for college—and I never married. So I don’t have a family, and Christmas is a family holiday. I’ve worked for most of it.”
“Wow.” Nessa laughed. “You and I are more alike than I originally thought.”
He arched an eyebrow. “A workaholic? Why? You had your mother, Isaac Hunt and Ivy, right? Why would you be apathetic toward Christmas?”
“Long story,” she murmured. “But Mom was pretty much a single parent after I turned twelve, and she worked a lot to support us. Ivy and I weren’t that close. Until we came here to Rose Bend, we were more of the evil-stepsister variety. But that’s changing, and I’m really thankful for her. Still, Christmases weren’t a big deal for me. And since I wasn’t married or a mother, I preferred to work and let people with either or both have it off.”
“I guess we are alike, then.” He paused. “But I’d like to change that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know about you, but being me is lonely. I’m never more aware of that than at Christmas when the lodge is packed with families and couples. Or when the town celebrates with Yulefest. Losing your mom, it left me bitter, I guess. Bitter and gun-shy to ever open myself to people again. And while that definitely keeps your heart safe, it also means you’re alone. And I’m tired of that. Especially now. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want to change that.”
Nessa tore her gaze away from him and stared into the dancing flames of the fireplace.
“Aren’t you...?” She swallowed. Tried again. “Aren’t you afraid? What if it’s been so long you don’t know how?”
“Don’t know how to what, Nessa? Love? Trust?”
Yes. Yes. “Be happy.”
“God, yes.”
Stunned, she turned back to him. “Really?”
“Yes. When you lock down your emotions for so long, it becomes a habit. More than that, it’s comfortable. And at some point, it’s all we know. So yes, opening up is scary. But as a businessman, I’ve learned one thing. It’s more of a risk to do nothing than to try, take a risk and perhaps fail. Because even if I fail, I learn something. But if I don’t try, I learn nothing. And I definitely don’t gain anything. If I can apply that logic and courage to business decisions and profit, then I’m willing to do it with people who are a more worthy investment. I’m willing to try with you, Nessa. You and Ivy. If you are.”
Was she brave enough?
In that workshop with Wolf, she hadn’t been. All she could think of was how he would eventually leave, just as everyone she loved did. How she would shatter if she had to watch him do it. Shatter into so many pieces, she would never be the same.
No, she hadn’t been brave.
But sitting here with her father, she wanted to be. Even knowing that Garrett could possibly disappoint her like Isaac. Even knowing this risk might cost her more tears, more pain.
So if she could be brave for Garrett, who she’d just met, why couldn’t she be brave for Wolf, who she...loved?
Because God, she loved him.
So desperately, she’d run hard and fast.
He’d been right about her. She longed for the strings, for the attachments. That’s why she’d been like a wild animal trying to chew off its own foot, attempting to slice them off before he could. Let him go before he left first.
She just couldn’t bear to watch another person she loved walk away from her. So she’d chosen loneliness over pain. Pride over grief.
The certainty of depending on herself over the risk of trusting in another person. In Wolf.
She didn’t want to be alone anymore.
She wanted not just a future, but a future with him. With her father. With Ivy.
She wanted family.
“I’m willing to try.” A resolve, buoyed by a freedom of spirit she hadn’t felt in eight long months, resonated within her. “No, I’m going to do it.”
Garrett smiled. Then arched an eyebrow. “Are you going to do the same with Wolf Dennison?”
She blinked. Snorted. “Yes. Dad,” she drawled.
Shock and laughter flared in his eyes. He picked up his coffee and sipped.
“That’s my girl.”
Twenty-One
FINISHED.
Wolf stood several feet away and studied the gazebo, Trevor next to him. They’d finished the gazebo ahead of schedule. Two days ahead of schedule, to be exact. Amazing what a person could accomplish when he used work to keep his mind off other things.
Like a woman he loved.
Her leaving town in less than a week.
Losing his heart.
Yeah, he’d been working a lot over these last few days.
“It looks great, Wolf. Really great.”
Wolf grinned at the teen. “That’s some great praise coming from you, Trevor.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “And it looks amazing, thanks to you and your help. It looks simply amazing.”
Again, they studied the building in silence. With the domed roof, the large, octagonal open sides and shallow sets of steps on three sides, it followed the blueprint of the original town gazebo down to the weather vane at the top. Wolf had added his own touches with carvings of vines and roses in the side beams.
He was proud.
And when Cole had come b
y just a few minutes ago, and Wolf had glimpsed the joy on his brother’s face, he’d barely managed not to pump his fist in the air.
All right, so after Cole left, he’d pumped his fist a little.
“Let’s clear out of here so they can start decorating it for the ceremony and concert. I’ll treat you to lunch over at Sunnyside Grille. You deserve it for all the hard work.” Wolf held out his fist and Trevor bumped it.
“Bet.”
They worked quickly and gathered the last of their tools and stowed them in the back of his truck. On the last trip, to make sure they’d grabbed everything, he stopped once more in front of the gazebo, head tilted back. He couldn’t wait to see it draped with bows, wreaths and garland, and lit up with white lights...
“It’s beautiful, Wolf.”
He didn’t immediately turn around. Partly, because he didn’t want to. Didn’t want to risk turning and her being a figment of his ravenous imagination. But denial had never been his thing. As eager as he might be to avoid...this.
Pivoting, he faced Nessa.
And hoped like hell he did a decent job of concealing the hunger that flared hot and bright within him at the sight of her. Three days since he’d seen her. Three long days, and now, he was like a junkie jonesing for a hit of her. Dark hair streamed over one shoulder, and a vibrant red slouch hat covered the shaved side of her head. Her puffy black coat covered her from neck to waist, and dark blue jeans encased her thick, beautiful legs, brown ankle boots performing the impossible and making those legs look even more beautiful.
Roaming back up her curvy length, he met her lovely espresso eyes, and tried to ignore the kick to his chest that they elicited. How many times had he dreamed of those eyes? Gleaming with quiet, wicked humor. Heavy with solemnity. Glazed with passion.
Glistening with tears as she told him she was sorry she couldn’t be who he needed her to be. Which was in love with him.
Too many to count.
Shit. He needed to wrap this up.
“Yeah, thanks,” he said. “We were able to finish it on time.” God, this was awkward. Now he was stating the obvious. “Did you need something? Trevor and I were getting ready to go...”
“Yes, I do actually need something.” She reached into the gift bag she carried and pulled out a small green box with a bright red bow, then set the bag on the ground. “I wanted to give this to you.”
He frowned at the present, shifting his gaze back to her. “What?”
She moved forward, her step hesitant. “It’s not Christmas yet but I wanted to give this to you.”
“Nessa.” He sighed, not sure what the hell was going on. But he didn’t have the time or desire to play games—or whatever this was. Last time they’d talked, she’d rejected his love, and now here she stood, offering him a gift like some hot Mrs. Claus. Confused didn’t begin to cover what he felt. “I don’t—”
“Wolf,” she interrupted. “Please.”
She held the present out to him.
Swallowing another sigh, he took the gift out of her hands, undid the bow and lifted the lid. He moved the tissue paper out of the way and nestled inside he found a glass Christmas ornament in the shape of a wreath.
It was gorgeous.
But he was still confused.
“Mom, Isaac and I had a Christmas tradition. We bought an ornament at the beginning of every season that had special significance for that year. When I was born, they bought one with a baby’s bottle. The year Mom graduated from college, we had one in the shape of a graduation cap. When I started first grade, we had a little red schoolhouse. Mom and I continued it for a couple of years after Isaac left, but eventually we stopped.”
His fingers tightened around the box, just as a phantom fist squeezed his heart. When would this woman ever stop having this effect on him? When would he ever stop wanting to protect her? Love her?
“I hadn’t thought about that in a long time. Just another thing I chose to forget about, I guess. Until coming here to Rose Bend. Until you.” She studied him, and his overactive, too-damn-desperate-for-its-own-good imagination allowed him to think for just a couple of moments that she might be trying to memorize his face. Soak him in even as he did the same with her. “When I arrived here, I had one goal. Get through the month of December and Christmas and get home. Back to my job, to my life. Preferably without strangling Ivy.” A smile ghosted over her lips. “But no sooner was I knocked on my ass by a giant with a stack of wreaths than that goal was flipped on its ass, too. Being here suddenly wasn’t about getting through, but about living for the first time, not just existing. About learning who I was, who I could be. Learning who my sister was. Who I came from. Being here was about learning to love.”
About loving.
His heart stalled. Stuttered. Then slammed against his rib cage. He didn’t ask her to explain. Couldn’t. This step she would have to take. To him. To them. He had no problem with chasing her. He’d do it to the end of the earth. But only if she wanted him to. Only if she was willing to pursue him back.
“I say ‘learning to love’ because before I did it with reservations. Waiting for someone to snatch it away, so I didn’t let them have all of me. Because if I did, and they left, what would I have? Who would I be? You scared me, Wolf. More than anyone, you scared me, because no matter how hard I fought it, whether I admitted it to myself or not, you had all of me. I gave everything to you the day you held me while I cried, wiped my tears and told me they weren’t a weakness. I’ve loved you from that moment, Wolf Dennison.”
He closed his eyes. Clenching his jaw, he held back the punch of emotion that swelled so huge inside him he almost buckled underneath the power of it. Joy, hope, love. So much love he didn’t know how it was possible for a person to feel it, contain it for another.
When he looked at her again, she’d moved closer and had lifted the ornament out of the box, holding it between them.
“With this ornament, I want to take a tradition that started with my family and continue it with my new family. Let this be the first for you, Ivy and me, for our new life here in Rose Bend.”
“You’re staying?” he rasped.
She nodded, a glint of doubt flashing in her eyes. “Dr. Collins and Dr. Prioleau asked me to work for them at the clinic after the New Year. One of their nurses decided to stay at home with her new baby instead of returning to work, so they offered me her job. I accepted. Ivy’s excited about staying. I hope you are—”
He didn’t let her finish that foolish sentence. Covering his mouth with hers, he kissed her. And kissed her. She opened for him, meeting him thrust for thrust, stroke for stroke. He’d missed this. Missed her taste. Missed her. God, he’d missed her.
“I wished for you,” he breathed against her damp lips. Cupping her face, he pressed another kiss to her mouth, unable to resist sampling her once more. “For the first time since I returned home from Iraq, I threw a note in the Christmas wishing well. Do you know what I wrote?”
“No, tell me.”
“I wished that you would stay in Rose Bend. That you would stay with me.”
This time when he kissed her, he took his time, telling her without words how much he loved her, cherished her. Thanked her for choosing him. Cradling the back of her neck with his hand, he scattered kisses over her face, grinning at her laughter and promising he would hear that every day for the rest of their lives.
“Can I have that ornament?” When Nessa gave it to him, he held it high. “I have just the place for it.” Cocking his head, he arched an eyebrow. “How do you feel about Victorians as far as houses?”
“Um, good?”
He laughed, pulling her close and smacking a kiss on the top of her head. Winding his arm around her shoulders, he led her toward his parked truck.
“Remind me to tell you over lunch about the savings account Carol Brandt set up with six years’ worth of my
checks deposited in it. And how, after I donate half to Purple Heart Homes to help build homes for disabled vets and their families, I’ll still have more than enough to buy you, Ivy and me a home.”
“Holy sh—” Nessa’s mouth dropped open. “Wolf Dennison, are you really telling me you’re buying me and my sister a whole house for Christmas?”
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
If you loved Christmas in Rose Bend, have you tried The Road to Rose Bend out now by Naima Simone and Mills & Boon
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