Mountain Mistletoe Christmas

by Patricia Johns

  Nick looked around the living room—the Christmas tree, the little choir of bears on the windowsill, and Bram sitting on the couch staring at Amelia in undisguised curiosity. Was this really such a sad room? He hadn’t thought so. Amelia used to come barreling down those stairs to answer the phone when her friends would call, and she’d lie on her stomach in front of the Christmas tree trying to guess what was in her presents.

  “Need help?” Jen asked quietly.

  He didn’t need help, but he could sure use the company. He smiled. “Thanks. I’ve got another peeler here somewhere, too.”

  Jen joined him at the counter, and when he passed her the peeler, her soft fingers lingered over his.

  “Your daughter loves you,” Jen said.

  And maybe she did, but she also felt the need to change him. Just like her mother had. He was tired of being cleaned up and dusted off. Maybe he just wanted to decorate with those old chipped bears and be the guy he’d always been.

  As he reached for a potato and started to peel, Nick glanced down at Jen.

  “I married young,” she said softly. “I’ll admit that. And he was a bad choice.”

  Nick glanced over to see his daughter squatting down to talk to Bram, one hand on Goldie’s head. This was his little girl, all grown up, and he did want to protect her. But the wealthy guys out there wouldn’t be intimidated by some contractor.

  What if Ben was just another guy who thought he deserved the world and wanted his wife to get on board?

  But it was comforting that Jen seemed to understand his anxiety.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE REST OF the evening flowed pleasantly, all conversation about marriage mistakes over. They had dinner, and the roast was delicious. Not only was it great to have a proper sit-down meal, but Nick was a good cook, too. There were mashed potatoes on the side, and steamed peas. Bram made a mess of himself eating the potatoes by handfuls, and Amelia was upbeat and talkative on all sorts of subjects from politics to art to celebrity gossip.

  Jen kept an eye on the clock, and when it was getting close to Bram’s bedtime, she made her excuses and started gathering up Bram’s things.

  She’d enjoyed the evening, but having Nick’s daughter here made the tone different. It also reminded her of exactly what people seemed to think of her now that she was divorced. When she was still married to Sam, she had the defense that they were happy. But having divorced him, she couldn’t stand by that any longer, and having Nick mention his worries about his daughter in relation to her own choices had stung. If she let herself flirt back with him, was he going to think the same thing her sister did—that she was just looking for a way to make her life easier?

  “I’ll help you carry everything back,” Nick said.

  Jen glanced around herself at the diaper bag, and Bram’s coat and boots. Bram stood there rubbing his eyes and gave a slow yawn.

  “Thanks,” Jen said. “I could use the help.”

  “Come on, Goldie,” Nick called. “Walk time.”

  Goldie bounded for the door, and Jen shot Amelia a smile.

  “It was really nice seeing you again,” Jen said. “Take care.”

  “You, too!” Amelia said.

  Amelia was smart and interesting. Jen had a feeling that whomever Amelia married wouldn’t be able to push her around too easily. But she didn’t seem to have a lot of consideration for her father’s feelings. Maybe Nick was right and state school might have been better for her, character wise.

  They headed out into the cold night together, Bram’s little head against Jen’s shoulder as they walked back through the evening dark. Nick was at her side, and when she came to an icy part on his drive, his strong hand came under her elbow to steady her.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve carried a kid this size,” Jen said.

  “Even longer for me,” Nick said.

  “Does it still feel like yesterday?”

  Nick smiled faintly. “Yeah, it does.”

  Even when Drew was little, Sam hadn’t been this attentive, and she glanced up at Nick. He was strong and solid, and she liked the look of his beard shining in the light of the streetlamp. He was just so...male, and she liked it. Dammit—was she softening at the thought of rescue again? She’d better stop that.

  There was something about this man that made her feel that much more feminine, though. Maybe it was the sheer size of him. He was right about being a source of testosterone—he oozed it. She shivered, and it wasn’t because of the cold. Then she fixed her gaze ahead of her. The last thing she needed was for Nick to notice her eyeing him like that.

  They crossed the street, and as they got onto Jen’s property, Goldie trotted happily ahead of them, her tail wagging. Jen had left some lights on, and the house glowed softly in the darkness, the snow that bowed the tree branches glittering in the moonlight.

  “So what do you do when you aren’t working?” Jen asked, glancing toward him.

  “I walk my dog,” he said, then smiled ruefully. “Honestly? I work a lot. When I’m not working, I tend to watch some TV, walk Goldie, sometimes I go out for dinner with a few friends. Bert and I have been buddies for ages. He’s good at dragging me out. I’m not a real exciting guy.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a calm life,” she said.

  “I agree. I’m not apologizing.”

  “So how come you’re still single?” she asked. “I know a few women personally who’d happily settle into a calm life with someone like you.”

  He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. She felt the heat hit her cheeks.

  “I’m not suggesting myself. You know what I mean,” she said.

  He chuckled. “I’m just... You really want to know?”

  “Yes, I want to know,” she said.

  “I’m attracted to the wrong kind of woman,” he said. “I know a lot of guys who get married a second time, and it’s just the same thing all over again. They just keep doing the same things. I don’t want to repeat my mistakes.”

  “That sounds wise,” she replied. “I think I’d rather not repeat mine, either.”

  “Where did you go wrong?” he asked.

  “I think you probably have a few opinions about that already,” she said.

  “That shouldn’t matter,” he said. “You’d know better.”

  “I let my heart lead,” she said. “And I know that sounds like a ridiculous complaint, because falling in love with someone is all about heart, but I let myself get caught up in what I hoped would be our life together, and...it got away from me.”

  “No one warned you?” Nick asked. “No one pointed out that there might be unforeseen complications there?”

  Jen’s mind went back to her wedding—the planning, the excitement. Her parents had been very excited about the wedding. They saw Sam as a sign of success for the entire family—a connection they could be proud of. Sam made her feel safe and secure and important because he was older than she was and established... It was Lisa who’d been the vocal one.

  “My sister tried,” Jen said. “But she was a teenager at the time, and I didn’t take her seriously. How about you?”

  “Nope,” he replied with a rueful smile. “Every single person in my life told me that I couldn’t do better. She was more than I deserved.”

  Jen winced. “Ouch. But I kind of got the same thing. He was miles above me, and I was lucky to have nabbed him—that’s what people told me. But for all the judgment about who I married and why, you and I might have made the very same mistake.”

  Nick gave her a look of surprise, and then a slow smile moved over his face. “You have a point.”

  They came up the steps before the door, and they came to a stop. Jen hitched Bram a little higher in her arms. He was asleep now, and she could feel the warmth of his baby breath against her neck.

  “Don’t you ever g
et tired of trying to figure out all of your mistakes?” Jen asked. “Defending yourself?”

  “Yeah, I do,” he said with a nod, and he met her gaze. A smile twitched at one side of his mouth. “I’ve got my daughter here trying to get me to move on, and I guess it has me digging it all up again.”

  “What if we didn’t?” Jen asked.

  “Didn’t dig it up?” he asked uncertainly.

  “Exactly,” she said. “What if we just left it alone and enjoyed Christmas? I get it—people think I’m going to find a man to solve my problems again. I’m determined not to. I have my self-respect. And you feel like you have to explain yourself. But what kind of gift to yourself would that be to not dig up all those old mistakes? You’ve got your daughter reminding you of everything, and I’ve got my sister doing the exact same thing. And I’m sick of it! I’m not leaping into any new relationship, but I’m also tired of beating myself up about the last one.”

  “You have a good point,” he said.

  “I mean, look at us, Nick. We’re successful people. You run your own business and you’re very good at it. You’re the one who did the work on the Mountain Springs Lodge renovation, and that’s really something. That lodge is featured in travel magazines now because of your talent.”

  “I am pretty proud of that,” he said with a slow smile. “And you’re doing rather well, yourself. You’re opening a gallery.”

  “It’s a dream come true for me,” she replied. “I think we deserve to just enjoy what we’ve worked for, don’t you?”

  “All right,” he said, the smile warming his gaze. “Let’s make a pact—we just enjoy the holidays.”

  “And we hold each other accountable,” she said. “No beating ourselves up. Let’s just have Christmas.”

  “Deal.” He met her gaze, and Bram wriggled in her arms, moaning softly.

  Jen reached into her coat pocket for her keys, and they slipped from her fingers into the snow.

  “Here,” Nick said, and he scooped them up, then unlocked the door for her. He pushed it open and let her go inside first.

  Jen carried Bram to a large divan—one of the pieces of furniture from the last owner—and laid him down, coat and boots still on him. He settled and slept on. When she looked up, she saw Nick put the diaper bag down and he cast her a smile. Goldie sat obediently at his feet.

  “Thank you,” she said, crossing the room toward him again. She undid her jacket and loosened her scarf. “It was nice of you to help me get home.”

  Nick nodded and he put his hand on the door handle again, but his gaze stayed on her face.

  “It’s no problem,” he said softly. “We’re neighbors.”

  “Right.” Neighbors—but when his gaze moved over her face like that, she wasn’t feeling neighborly...

  “I, um—” he started, but then his gaze moved down to her lips, and for just a moment she felt like the room around them had suddenly dimmed, and it was just the two of them standing on the marble tiles, and all she seemed able to focus on was the way his lips looked with the bristle of his beard.

  “I should get going,” he said after a few beats of silence. He leaned down to give Goldie’s head a stroke, then pulled open the door and let a puff of frigid air inside.

  “See you,” she said, and her voice sounded breathy in her own ears.

  His dark gaze met hers, and she held her breath. He leaned closer, and the bristle of his beard and the softness of his lips brushed across her cheek. Then Nick stepped outside with Goldie at his heels, and he pulled the door shut behind him, leaving Jen alone in the foyer, goose bumps forming on her arms.

  She shut her eyes and released a slow breath.

  That didn’t actually count as a kiss good-night, but it did make a smile tug at her lips, and her fingers touched the spot where his beard had tickled her skin. That flutter in her chest was something she shouldn’t let get out of hand, either. Nick was a man who could very easily sweep her off her feet...and she wasn’t doing that again. Lisa would have no cause to question this accomplishment—and neither would she.

  Her phone blipped and she looked down to see a text from her son.

  Hi, Mom. What are you up to?

  There was an awful lot that had happened tonight that she’d never tell Drew about, but she was glad for the distraction.

  I’m babysitting your cousin, Bram. He’s really cute. Hold on, I’ll send you a picture.

  She headed over to where Bram was sleeping and took a picture of the sleeping toddler.

  Life wasn’t over. Tomorrow she’d get a tree. Drew would definitely like that. There was still plenty to enjoy this Christmas. She just had to keep her feet on the ground.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING Jen drove her black SUV to Dickerson’s Nursery. It was on the far side of town, and up the mountain about five miles, following a twisting road. The nursery serviced most of Mountain Springs all year long—with the greenhouse and Christmas trees in the winter, and with plants and shrubbery in the summer. But as she drove, her mind kept drifting back to that kiss on her cheek.

  It was innocent...probably. Right? It was just a polite gesture. Except, she and Nick had had a connection lately. She’d assumed up until now that he wasn’t feeling what she was—here she was, nearly forty and newly divorced. She wasn’t at her most confident. Divorced men had it easier—they were snapped up in no time. Look at Sam! So she’d been thinking that her attraction to Nick was a bit silly, or at the very least very safe in that it wouldn’t be returned.

  So he kissed her on the cheek. What was she worrying about? They were both adults. Maybe it was just a slightly awkward moment and Nick was currently regretting it. They weren’t dating—they were friends. Surprisingly good friends in this short period of time. And she shouldn’t make more of a friendly buss than was intended. She’d get a Christmas tree and put all of this behind her. When Drew arrived, things would feel more normal again.

  Jen parked and looked at the familiar sign, a little faded and in need of a new coat of paint. She got out of her vehicle and locked it, then headed toward the front gate that was decorated with oversize red-and-green Christmas tree baubles, capped with snow. A brisk wind whipped a chilly dusting of snowflakes off the surrounding trees and into Jen’s face, and she ducked her head against the cold.

  The trees were all cut down and tied with twine, leaning against the fence that surrounded the sales lot. The sales hut was right next to the entrance, and it was in the style of a little log cabin with big, bright windows. There was some canned Christmas music being played over the loudspeaker—“Here Comes Santa Claus”—and Jen did feel cheerier already. Maybe her son was right about getting a tree. She wound her way around the lot, looking at the different trees from the tiny tabletop variety all the way up to the massive spruce trees. She realized that if she got a regular six-foot tree, it would be dwarfed by the massive front room. Unless she wanted to drag a Christmas tree up to the third floor...which she didn’t.

  A family with three little kids came past her, the kids babbling with excitement and the couple holding hands. Jen watched them for a moment, feeling wistful. That was the life she’d wanted—and the life she’d had for a little while.

  But then her gaze moved past the little family and landed on a woman she recognized. It was Renata, from the Second Chance Dinner Club. She stood next to a tree, a thick scarf and faux fur coat wrapped around her. She looked warm and the browns of her coat set off her rosy face and short chestnut hair. A burly man with a full, wiry beard was talking to her—tall, broad, a little hefty and wearing a red plaid jacket. Renata’s face was flushed and her eyes sparkled when she looked up at him. He took out a pad of paper, wrote something on it and handed it over. She reached out to take the slip of paper, and he didn’t release it right away, leaning in to say something else that made her blush deeper. She dropped her gaze, said something, and he le
t go of the slip of paper, chuckling.

  “Okay, well, give me a call.” His voice carried over to where Jen stood as he turned.

  Jen couldn’t help but grin—that looked like Renata had just been asked out. Romantic complications were great fun in other people’s lives.

  Renata spotted Jen, and Jen waved and headed in her direction.

  “What was that?” Jen asked. “It looked like he just gave you his number?”

  “Um...” Renata shrugged. “Yeah, he did.”

  “Do you know him?” Jen asked.

  “Yeah, that’s Sebastian Dickerson. He took over for his uncle after he retired, so he’s running the nursery now.”

  “Right.” Jen shot the shorter woman a smile. “And, he looks interested in you...as more than a customer.”

  “Oh...he’s been asking me out for a couple of months now,” Renata said with a breathy laugh.

  “You’ve been hanging around the nursery?” Jen joked.

  “No!” Renata rolled her eyes. “Seb’s mom is at the assisted living facility where I work, so I see him there.”

  “Are you going to go out with him?” Jen asked.

  Renata shook her head. “I don’t think I’m ready. I’ve got enough on my plate dealing with Ivan—my ex—right now. But it’s just been hectic, especially this Christmas, and I don’t think adding a boyfriend into the mix is going to make it easier.”

  “Yeah, I could see that,” Jen agreed. “How long have you been divorced?”

  “Three and a half years,” Renata replied.

  That was a whole lot better than Jen’s brand-new divorce. Was Jen going to be unsteady on her feet for another three or four years, too? She hoped not.

  “Has Ivan been dating?” Jen asked, sobering. “I mean, I remember you said he was cheating on you, but...”