“Okay, then she’s trying to make me happy.” Another easy smile. “But I don’t like the way she talks to you.”
“Get used to it.” She plopped down on the bed.
“Never.”
10
Even if Jack didn’t like the way Mrs. McQueen talked to her daughter, it was hard not to put her on his Christmas list after this latest development. This was one small bed in an equally small room. Of course, he’d offer to take the floor since Fallon’s mother would be none the wiser once the bedroom door was shut. But he hoped that Christmas would come early for him and Fallon wouldn’t let him take the floor. The shiny hardwood floor looked…hard.
There was a knock on the door. “You are staying for dinner?” Beverly had opened the door with only a short hesitation.
So much for privacy. Hopefully that door had a lock on it. Fallon was correct, and her mother was poking around the two of them with a metaphorical cow prod. And she likely wouldn’t be done anytime soon.
“I was hoping to go see David—” Fallon said.
“They’re all having dinner with Ted’s family tonight. You’ll probably see him at the tree lighting later.”
“Oh,” Fallon said, shoulders shagging. “Sure, that’s right.”
“I hope you like pot roast, Bud.”
“I love pot roast,” he smiled through gritted teeth.
Beverly shut the door.
“I hate Bud,” Jack said.
Fallon lay down on the bed and covered her face with her arms.
“Hey.” He pulled on one arm. “What’s wrong? I’m the one being called Bud.”
She peeked through splayed fingers. “I’m sorry. I made you go through all this with me and now it’s all for nothing.”
She looked soft on her pillow, blond hair splayed around her like a halo. “You leave the convincing part to me.”
That kiss a few minutes ago had gone on for longer than he’d intended because even though he’d been prepared for the blazing heat and desire, he’d still been a little stunned by it. And while he and Fallon had begun to feel a little too real, he enjoyed it. Her. All of it. So far, other than the car mishap, he was having the best time he’d had in years.
He eased up on the bed next to her, and broached the subject before she did. “I’ll take the floor if you’re more comfortable that way.”
“No! You’ve done enough already. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“The hell you will. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”
“It’s only right. I got us into this mess.”
“I don’t bite.” The way she blinked at him made it difficult not to smile. “Unless…do you want me to bite?”
“Jack.” She laughed and lightly punched his chest. “You do make me laugh.”
Finally. Ever since they’d crossed the town limits sign, Fallon had been increasingly edgy. The jumpiness he could handle, but it was that lost and occasionally gloomy gaze in her eyes that got to him. The part of him that always wanted to fix stuff was having a difficult time staying quiet. But he would. For now. He traced her soft lips and reminded himself he was playing a part. Much like the times he’d interview a suspect and pretend he really believed the garbage spewing out their mouths. Nodded in the places where he’d given them enough rope to hang themselves. All he had to do was shut up and listen because most people generally loved to talk about themselves. Occasionally the truth slipped out while they weren’t paying attention.
Now he was playing the part of a dutiful and devoted boyfriend. Considering he was never much of a devoted anything other than a son, brother, and cop, this might be somewhat of a stretch.
“You can kiss me again.” Fallon stared at his mouth and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I need to get used to it.”
She should get used to it, and so should he. Used to feeling a little out of his mind when he kissed her. Kissing should be comfortable and easy after dating someone for months, not like he was about to burst into flames and do her against the wall or wherever they happened to be standing at the moment. He brushed his lips against hers slowly and then more urgently as he met her eagerness. Her mouth opened under his for more and he went for it like a dying man searching for oxygen. When his hand dove under her sweater to touch silky and smooth skin, she moaned into his mouth and he went instantly hard. Temporarily losing track of, or caring, where he was and whose mother was downstairs serving pot roast, Jack got handsy. His fingers nudged her bra aside to tweak her nipple. Fallon quivered and one leg went over his hip as she pulled him closer.
“Dinner’s ready!” A voice screeched from downstairs.
Fallon startled and rolled off him so fast she would have fallen off the bed if he hadn’t caught her. “Easy, Grace.”
“Ooooof,” she said, holding on to his arm. “I better get down there and help her.”
He watched her stand and straighten her sweater. “I’m going to need a minute. Or two.”
She stared at the tent in his pants. Bit her lower lip as if trying hard not to smile. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m my own worst enemy.”
“From where I’m standing, you don’t look like you’d ever be anyone’s enemy. Not with that.” She licked her lips, smoothed down her hair, and opened the bedroom door. “See you down there.”
11
In the kitchen, Fallon busied herself with setting the table for her mother and trying to forget about the mini make-out session she’d just had upstairs in her childhood bedroom. The sense of dread she’d had since arriving home spread southward but for a different reason. She was no longer pretending. Jack was very much a man she could fall for, a man who made her nerve endings tingle and her heart squishy. But he was quite possibly the worst man for her to fall in love with. And she would do everything in her power to put the brakes on.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to fly out here, not drive and wind up spending the night in a hotel room. For the next couple of nights, he should be staying in a motel room and not in her small bedroom with her. The wedding day was the main attraction, and all this forced togetherness had not been part of her original plan.
“Smells delicious,” Jack said as he walked into the kitchen.
He looked delicious, having changed into black jeans and a gray sweater that complimented his dark hair and eyes. Yum. She wanted dinner and it wasn’t the pot roast.
“Thank you, dear,” Fallon’s mother said. “Just have a seat.”
“Sure I can’t help?” he asked, coming up behind Fallon to give her a quick hug.
“Babe, just sit down. We’re ready.” That was pretty good if she said so herself. Babe.
He took a seat at the small table, his intelligent eyes quietly observing and assessing.
“Where did you two meet?” Fallon’s mother said as she also took a seat.
Oh no. Had they even discussed that? If they had, she couldn’t remember.
“The bar.”
“A party.”
They both spoke at once.
“It was a party at a bar,” Jack explained, taking her hand. “Remember, babe?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Goodness,” Mom said, putting down her fork. “Are you frequenting dangerous bars to meet men?”
“No, Mom. I—”
“It was a lucky thing for me that she did that night,” Jack interrupted. “Her friend had chosen to have her birthday party there. What can you do?”
“What friend?” Mom asked Fallon.
“Kyra. My friend Kyra.” Fallon did have a good friend and former co-worker named Kyra in L.A.
“I thought she moved away eight months ago?” Mom narrowed her eyes.
“Six months ago,” Fallon lied. “It was her going-away party. I mean her birthday party. It was both. Her birthday party and going-away party.”
Jack gave her a look that said she should stop talking and perhaps go take a sleeping pill.
Mom threw up her hands. “Oh, my goodnes
s. You young people and all your parties.”
“We don’t have a lot of parties. That’s why we put them together in packages, to save on party time.”
Jack now glared at her. His eyes said shut up and let me get a word in. I will fix this. It only requires you stop talking. Now.
And still, she couldn’t help herself. “Jack’s favorite baseball team is the San Francisco Giants!”
“True story,” Jack said and gave a tight smile.
“Why, you’re practically a hometown boy,” Mom said. “And what do you do for a living? Fallon neglected to tell me, as though it were a state guarded secret. She would only say it was a very important job.”
“I’m a cop.” He took a drink from his glass and set it down. “She probably didn’t want to say because so many people don’t like cops.”
“I certainly hope that’s not true.” Mom frowned.
Jack shrugged.
“Our new chief of police is a young man, ex-Marine. He’s started a task force to help at-risk youth in our area,” Mom said, passing more pot roast to Jack.
“That’s great. I worked on a task force for a while, too.” Jack said.
“And I thought Fallon was only trying to impress me while being purposefully vague. You do have a very important job.”
For the first time in a long while, Fallon felt a bit proud of her mother. She’d acknowledged the importance of service to a community, and not just raking in the big bucks like Ted did. Or like Trudy’s nephew the doctor. Maybe there was hope for her yet.
“I wish you’d told me the truth and not behaved as if I couldn’t be trusted with it, Fallon,” Mom said.
Aaand that was the shortest moment of pride in history. At least she was being civil to Jack, and that’s all Fallon could hope for.
“Actually, come to think of it.” Jack set his fork down. “I think I asked Fallon not to say anything. I’m sorry, Mrs. McQueen, but sometimes what I do is not pleasant conversation.”
“Of course, I understand.” Mom nodded.
The rest of the dinner passed with only light discussion about plans for the coming week. The tree lighting ceremony tonight, the Santa and Friends Christmas Parade tomorrow evening, followed by the wedding. It was a full week of activities fit into a few days, between the holiday events and wedding. Mom criticized Ted and his fiancé for planning their special day far too close to Christmas, but apparently Sally too didn’t care much for tradition. It meant that they would be on their honeymoon in Aruba on Christmas Day.
Fallon helped her mother clean up, and they both refused Jack’s help. He was instead sent to the garage to gather up the blankets Mom had set aside for them to take to the ceremony.
“I’ll see you kids bright and early in the morning,” Mom said at the door.
“You’re not coming?” Fallon said.
“Too cold out there.” She rubbed her arms and practically shoved Fallon and Jack out the front door. “But you two have fun and give my grandson a hug from me!”
The minute she shut the door, Jack stared at Fallon. “We have our parties together to save on party time?”
“Do you see what she does to me? I get so defensive and turn into a blubbering idiot.” She headed towards the end of their street for the short walk downtown.
“Next time let me do the talking and just follow my lead. I’ve got this.” As if to prove it, he one-armed pulled her in, the other holding their blankets. “In case she’s watching us walk away.”
As they approached, a small crowd had already gathered around Christmas in the Park, though it was nothing compared to the size it would be once everyone arrived. The small street park in the center of town was used to light the town’s Christmas tree and start the season’s festivities. A huge twenty-something-foot spruce was usually delivered from Oregon. It took several tall men and a mini-crane to string the lights every year. A few were already around the bottom of the tree inspecting. Fallon spied all three of the Turlock brothers: Wallace, Billy and Scott, along with Joe Hannigan, Kailey’s husband.
She hadn’t seen most of these people for months and even then it had been a short trip. After the last nasty rumor, Fallon had dropped by approximately eight months later to clear up any confusion about her non-existent love child. It had been one of the hottest April months on record, and she’d showed up to a barbeque wearing a bikini to demonstrate her very un-pregnant stomach. Brooke and Billy, of course, had known the truth of it all but privately they’d still thanked her for showing up. Of course, the bikini had started off another slew of nastiness as to whether Fallon perhaps had developed an eating disorder in L.A. (not in this lifetime as she loved cupcakes far too much).
“Small town America,” Jack said, spreading the blankets on a couple of empty folded chairs. “Yet another item is crossed off my bucket list. This is pretty cool.”
Fallon scanned the crowd, looking for David. He would be around here somewhere, if not with Ted, then with Ted’s parents.
“Mom!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Fallon spied David, a blue streak running toward her. She bent down to accept a hug which nearly knocked her down. Her boy was getting big. “Hi, honey.”
“You’re here! I was looking for you everywhere.” He glanced up and gave Jack a tentative smile.
“This is my friend,” Fallon began and then couldn’t find it in her heart to lie to her son. “Jack. Jack Cooper.”
“Hiya!” David stuck out his hand. “My grandma said your name was Bud, but she said that’s not a real name anyway. She said that maybe you weren’t even a real person, but you are!”
“Bud is a nickname, for some people.” Jack grinned and shook David’s hand.
“I like ‘Jack’ better,” David said. “Can I sit with you guys?”
“Sure. Where’s your Dad?” Fallon didn’t see Ted anywhere in the vicinity.
“He’s over there with Sally and they’re kissing. It’s super disgusting.” He pointed and made a face.
How she loved that little scrunched-up face. “I’m sure it’s not disgusting.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “It totally is.”
“Mr. Jack bought you a t-shirt when we stopped at a Monarch Butterfly grove on the way.” Fallon ruffled David’s hair.
“Cool! Thanks!”
She pulled her big boy into her lap and threw the blanket around both of them. He seemed to grudgingly accept that, seeing as the other seats around them had been taken. He would soon be too old to sit on her lap, and all those times she’d taken for granted would be gone. From time to time she thought about having another kid, but that stage of life was running out for her and there were few men who would take a chance on forever with her.
Her thoughts quickly shifted away from her past because everything was good right now for a change. She sat cuddled under the blanket with the love of her life, the scent of a wood burning fire nearby drifting through, the special smell of pine in the night air. It actually felt homey and familiar, in a good way. Jack reached over and took her hand in his. His big hand was warm and hers a solid block of ice. He grinned and her heart squeezed.
Their current mayor, Ophelia Lyndstrom, came forward to a mike by the large Christmas tree. She welcomed everyone and introduced the choir. The white and red robed choir from the local elementary school were trotted out to sing “Oh Come All Ye Faithful,” “Winter Wonderland,” and ended with “Silent Night.” Santa Claus then came out and invited everyone to the parade tomorrow night.
“That’s not the real one,” David said to Jack. “He’s just his helper.”
“Right,” Jack said. “He actually has quite a few helpers.”
Santa officiated the countdown to the lighting of the tree. There were plenty of ooohs and ahhhs from the crowd as the lights went slowly up the tree and when they reached the top they lit up most of the square block. Applause from everyone, another song from the choir (“Oh, Christmas Tree”) and then it was all over for another year. As usual, everyone wa
s invited to free cocoa and knock-you-naked brownies for only a dollar over at Em and Silas’ diner. Genevieve Turlock, who owned the Sweet Southern Buns bakery, would hand out her annual free samples of Christmas cut-out sugar cookies until she ran out. That would be soon, if past years were any indication.
“I’m going to get a cookie!” David kicked off the blanket and ran in the direction of Genevieve and her children, who were helping hand cookies out.
“Nice kid,” Jack said, standing. “I stopped sitting on my mom’s lap when I was six.”
“Thank you. He’s the light of my life.” She stood and was about to ask Jack if he also wanted a cookie when Ted walked up to them, Sally beside him.
“Fallon,” he said with a sharp nod. “Meet Sally. Sally, this is Fallon, David’s mother.”
Jack, bless him, didn’t waste any time in throwing one arm around Fallon and tucking her to his side.
“Nice to meet you,” Fallon said to Sally’s frozen smile. “And this is—”
“Bud,” Ted held out his hand to Jack. “Beverly told me. Good to meet you.”
Sally’s gaze swept over Jack, practically drooling. “Nice to meet you, Bud.”
“I’m Ted Andrews, or husband Number Three,” Ted told Jack. “Are you going to be number four?”
“Ted, please—” Fallon and Sally both said at once.
Jack’s arm tightened around her, not missing a beat. “I don’t care what number I am as long as I’m last.”
David ran up to them. “Look! I got a cookie in the shape of Santa! And Sally, I heard Mrs. Turlock tell Ophelia that you should have a cookie too because you look like you never eat.”
“Okay, David, alright,” Ted said, a stiff smile on his face. “Let’s calm down now.”
“Sure,” David said, taking a bite of his cookie. “Can I go with Mom tonight?”
“No,” Ted said. “You know the plan. You’re spending Christmas with your Mom and you have to stay with us until the wedding.”
“Aw, man!” David kicked the ground. “Weddings are so boring.”
“We’re going to have so much fun soon enough,” Fallon said, hoping to distract him. “Just two more days until the wedding.”
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