His Holiday Crush

by Cari Z

  “Looks it,” I said. Five fifty-five. Almost—

  “Heads up, guys!” our desk sergeant called out. “Highway patrol is asking for backup for a head-on collision on State Route 10. Injuries were reported and paramedics are on the way, but they need help managing the traffic and handling witnesses.”

  David sighed. “Sounds like all hands on deck. So much for a quiet Christmas Eve.” He glanced at me. “I hate to do this, Nicky, but—”

  “No problem,” I said immediately, swallowing my bitterness—I had a job to do, and hell if I was going to bitch about it just because it was inconvenient. “I’ll follow you guys out.” I pulled out my phone for a quick text to Max and Hal: Big car accident. I might not make the play.

  I got two messages a minute later. Hal’s was a picture of the stage, complete with living menorah, and the caption, You’re only missing out if you planned to watch this stoned, and a simple two words from Max: Be safe. Yeah, I’d do my best.

  …

  The spot we drove out to was only a quarter mile or so from where Max had gone off the road. There were cars piled up in each direction, most of them as far onto the shoulder as they could get with the snow there. I eked out a path in my Jeep and headed straight for the flashing lights of the ambulances. I had some medic training from my time in the army, and I didn’t know how many injured there were yet.

  Thankfully, it wasn’t as bad as it looked—from the chatter I could make out, everyone was alive, if not uninjured. I couldn’t make it out very well, actually—there were a lot of lights and sounds and people, horns honking and engines revving irritably. Stepping into that maelstrom was like getting hit in the face by a memory sucker punch. I had to shut my eyes and do a breathing exercise for a few seconds to ground myself in reality.

  It’s cold here, not hot. There are no dead bodies here, just a few people who got injured. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re still breathing, you’re not hurt, hold it together. You can do this. You can do this.

  My counselor had talked a lot about the beneficial effects of positive self-talk, and I’d kind of laughed it off in session, but right now it was the only thing keeping me from bolting.

  Amos’s hand found my shoulder and squeezed gently, bringing me back to the present. I started to apologize, but he just shook his head. “It’s all right, Nicky, there’s no rush. Looks like a mess, but mostly we just need to make enough room to get the ambulances out then get these cars moving again. No serious injuries, thank goodness. David’s handling interviews and a tow truck is coming, so you and me need to see about getting traffic unstuck. I think we have space for a single lane through here. You take southbound, I’ll take northbound, and we’ll communicate via radio so we don’t cause any more accidents.”

  “Yes.” I could do that. Directing traffic was one of the least sexy jobs that came with being a cop, but it was one of the most regular ones. “Let me grab my cones and we’ll set it up.”

  “Good man.” He clapped me on the shoulder again then headed for his car. I turned back to my Jeep to dig out my traffic cones.

  This was my first major accident since taking the job. While I knew my reaction could have been a lot worse, I couldn’t help wishing it had been a lot better. Noise, lights, horns, people…if I couldn’t handle it here, I’d never handle it somewhere else.

  Like New York City.

  I shook my head and pulled the cones out. I had a job to focus on. Impossible dreams could wait.

  Chapter Eleven

  Max

  The Christmas play turned out to be a complete hit. It seemed everyone in town came out as support, and the kids had fun acting out the nativity scene, even without live animals. Hal asked me why I was laughing so hard when the scene opened on Mary and Joseph in the manger, and I shared the blow-up doll conversation with him. He actually had to step out of the nave for a minute to get a handle on his laughter. I stayed behind, taking in the small-town holiday spirit, wanting to bottle it up and save it for when I returned to the city.

  The after-play party was held in the church’s biggest meeting room. It was absolutely packed with people, and kids were running around everywhere, some still in their costumes and cheerfully spilling fruit punch and chocolate cookie crumbs on them as they raided the snack table. I was hanging out near the door with Hal and wondering whether Dominic was going to make it or not before the party ended. He’d texted about an accident—hopefully, it wasn’t a bad one.

  Someone’s phone went off a few feet away. No, make that two people’s phones. No, three. What was going on?

  “Uh-oh, sounds like a group text.” Hal raised a wry eyebrow before taking a sip of the bright red punch that Marnie had pressed on him. “Cue the Edgewood gossip network.”

  Tension crawled up my shoulders as I remembered the incessant chatter that had followed my mom and me right after the accident. Instead of offering support, the town had turned on us based on loose tongues and speculations.

  “Oh my god.” The woman closest to me whose phone had gone off rolled her eyes at her friend. “You’ll never guess who almost got arrested outside Mary’s fabric store again.”

  “No, really?” The woman next to her shook her head. “I thought she had a restraining order against that old fool.”

  “They called the cops, but apparently Mary didn’t have them arrest him,” the first lady said with a sigh. “She’s too soft-hearted when it comes to Robertson. If I were the mayor, I would have dug up some sort of zoning issue and kicked that man out of his trailer years ago. He shouldn’t even be allowed to live in this town anymore, much less get to rant like a drunk on a bender outside Mary’s own store.”

  My mouth went dry. They were talking about my father, who I’d seen buy the case of beer that was probably fueling his delusions right now.

  Whispers like this had been too much to bear ten years ago. I was practically crawling out of my skin listening to them now.

  Hal, who had the ears of a bat, also picked up on the conversation nearby and set his punch cup down on the nearest table. “Well, I’m done with this party, and dinner’s waiting at home. I’ll go get the girls.” He left before I could tell him not to bother, that it was all right, and I was so grateful for that.

  I was even more grateful when Dominic walked in the church doors a moment later. He stopped just inside the entrance, snow slowly melting on his shoulders as he looked around blankly. I wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a room packed with holiday revelers. I walked over and stopped just beside him. “Hey.”

  That seemed to jolt him out of his fugue. “Hi.” He gave me a weak half smile. “I guess I missed the play.”

  “Eh, there weren’t even any blow-up dolls,” I said, trying for funny but knowing I missed the mark when Dominic frowned at me.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I’m…It’s fine.”

  Dominic took my hand, uncaring of the sudden upswell of murmurs around us—or maybe he didn’t even hear them right now. “Max. What’s wrong?”

  I moved in a little closer, chafing his icy hand with both of mine. “Seems like my dad almost got arrested tonight while making a scene outside Mayor Clawson’s store.”

  “Oh, the drunk and disorderly.” Dominic nodded. “I heard that come in over the radio while I was driving here. That was your dad?”

  “According to a group text here at the party, yeah.” I shrugged, trying to brush it off even as the whispers got louder. It was hard to keep calm with the weight of half a dozen sets of eyes burning holes into my self-confidence. I tried harder. “But never mind that. Did the accident turn out okay?”

  Dominic pulled me closer, his gaze clear and intense. “Max, no matter what anybody here is saying about your dad, none of it reflects on you, okay? You have nothing to do with his troubles. Fuck the people who think otherwise.”


  I don’t know why it made a difference when he said it when I’d been saying that to myself for years, but hearing it from Dominic, especially right now, took some of the burden away.

  I pressed a quick kiss to his lips and pulled back with a sigh then ran a hand through my hair, relaxing it and myself. “How do you feel about—”

  Crash!

  The immense plastic Christmas tree in the corner, the one that had weathered countless seasons and dozens of pounds of decorations, had somehow been knocked over and was now lying in a heap on the floor. A blond boy stood amid the wreckage, looking like the living incarnation of “oops.”

  “It was an accident!” he hollered.

  “Benjamin George Shriner, get over here right now!” shouted Lauren, who I barely recognized out of her uniform.

  I turned back to Dominic to make a joke but changed gears as soon as I saw the pained look on his face and how fast his eyes were moving beneath his closed eyelids. I’d taken the time to read up on PTSD symptoms after we talked about his experiences, and this wasn’t good. “Breathe, Dominic. You’re okay.”

  His hand tightened around mine.

  “I’m here. You’re okay,” I said, hoping to ground him in the present. “I’m going to grab the Jeep keys from your pocket, okay? Then we’re out of here.”

  Dominic nodded. Once I had the keys, I pulled my phone out and texted Hal to let him know what was going on. “Come on, let’s head home.” But not to his home. It was Christmas Eve, and he was supposed to be over tomorrow morning anyway. He could stay at Hal’s with me tonight.

  In under five minutes, we were in his Jeep and on our way back to Hal’s.

  “Are you okay?” I asked as we turned onto the main road.

  Dominic, at least able to open his eyes now, looked over at me and smiled, but there was no spark in it. “I’m tired,” he admitted. “It took a long time to get everything from the accident tonight cleaned up, and the scene was so loud and chaotic it had me on the verge of a panic attack, and I’m just…I’m really tired.”

  “You should sleep, then.”

  “It’s too early to sleep.”

  “Not if you need it,” I said firmly. “Do you need it?”

  Dominic paused then said, “Maybe, yeah. I wouldn’t be good company tonight anyway.”

  “Like any of us care more about you being witty than looking after yourself. Do you need food?”

  “Nah.” Dominic shook his head. “The Highway Patrol guys shared their soup. I’m good.”

  I got us to Hal’s and inside as fast as possible, leaving the door unlocked and turning the lights on for the others when they got back. Dominic headed for the stairs, walking slowly, like his joints ached. I followed him to the guest room then sat him down on the edge of the bed, knelt down, and started to unlace his boots.

  After a second of watching, Dominic blinked and ran a hand down his face. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know.” I finished with his boots, picked them up, and set them just inside the bathroom door, where the snow would melt onto the tiles instead of the hardwood floor. When I turned back, he was unbuttoning his shirt. His hands moved slowly, but he eventually got fully undressed. Without another word, he turned toward the bed.

  “No, c’mon. You’re freezing. You need a shower.” I took his hand and eased him toward the bathroom.

  “Will you stay with me?”

  The answer was so clear in my mind that my breath caught. Always. I couldn’t even process it, and it was too intense to say aloud. So I smiled and said instead, “You never have to persuade me to have a shower with you, Dominic.”

  I turned the water on and let the bathroom start steaming up as we finished undressing then led the way into the spacious shower stall. It was easily twice the size of Dominic’s, and we could have had a lot of fun in here under different circumstances, but tonight was for warming up and washing away the strain and stress of the day.

  By the time I was done cleaning his hair, Dominic was out on his feet, swaying under the hot water so badly I worried I might have to carry him back to bed. “C’mon, almost done.” Forget drying off, forget brushing teeth—everything else could wait. I helped him out of the shower and back into the bedroom, where he fell onto the bed and burrowed under the covers until just his head was sticking out of the blanket.

  “Rest well,” I murmured, giving in to temptation and kissing his lips then his forehead before standing up. He was asleep before I was done dressing.

  …

  Christmas Eve’s dinner was a muted affair of leftovers from our splurging earlier in the week, and most of the good stuff was claimed by the time I got back downstairs. I made myself a turkey sandwich and spent a half hour picking at it while reassuring the girls that their uncle Nicky was okay.

  “For real?” Hal asked quietly at one point when the girls were distracted.

  Dominic hadn’t been all right back at the church, but by the time he went to sleep, I was pretty sure he was just tired, not reliving a nightmare. “Yeah. He’s just resting.”

  The girls didn’t want to go to bed—they were excited from the tips of their fingers to the ends of their toes—but Hal made the perennial parent argument that the sooner they fell asleep, the sooner it would be Christmas morning.

  It worked, amazingly, and the girls got ready quietly enough, although after they were in bed, there was still quite a lot of giggling.

  Hal listened to it with a half smile on his face, both of us sitting on the couch in the living room, close to the bottom of the stairs. “Steph’s really started to open up more lately.”

  I nodded. “She’s talked to me a few times now.”

  He clapped me on the shoulder before I gathered my courage. “She likes you. Stick around long enough, she’ll be calling you Uncle Max.”

  Wouldn’t that be nice? I’d never thought I’d be anyone’s uncle, but with the girls here, with Dominic here, it was…tempting to try. But that was wanting too much. “I doubt it. Besides, I do have a job to get back to after this vacation, you know.”

  Hal leaned back and looked at me skeptically. “Funny, you never say things like ‘I have a life to go back to’ or ‘I have friends to go back to.’ Every time New York comes up, it’s all about your job.”

  “I like my job,” I protested, but it sounded weak to my ears. “And shut up, I have friends in New York.”

  “You have guys you compete with at the office. Guys you go up against in court. Guys you beat down playing squash or whatever the fuck fancy shit you lawyers do at the gym.” Hal tilted his head. “How many of them actually qualify as friends?”

  Definitely some of…well, at least two of…maybe one of them? Shit. “Fine, I have acquaintances in New York, but that’ll change once I move up the ladder and get a little more time to myself.”

  “Really? Is it that way with your boss? Has his time freed up the higher up the ladder he goes?”

  “Marcus is a named partner. It’s his firm,” I exclaimed, and when Hal glanced at the stairs, I lowered my voice. “My situation is different.”

  “Is it, though?” Hal asked, as gentle and ruthless as only my best friend could be. “Or are you gonna be in the same spot as him a few years from now, only without the wife and kids helping you keep up an appearance of normalcy?”

  I wanted to hit him. I wanted to hug him. I picked the middle road. “Fuck you.”

  “I’m not bringing any of this up to hurt you,” he said, and he was so damn earnest it was hard to hold onto my anger with him. “I’m just sayin’, I think you should consider all your options.”

  “Options like what?”

  “Coming back to Edgewood.”

  I sighed. “Hal…I don’t think—”

  “What happened tonight with your dad had nothing to do with you. Yeah, people will always talk shit, but forget
them. You’re nothing like the guy. That’s obvious as soon as someone meets you. And we’d love to have you here.” He nodded toward the upstairs. “The girls adore you, more every day. You’re my best friend, not to mention I’d kill for you to stick around through basketball season. Nicky is terrible about setting his brackets. And Nicky…” Hal looked a little uncomfortable now, but he forged ahead. “You gotta see what you meant to him.”

  My chest ached at the thought of meaning more to Dominic, but I shook my head again. “We haven’t known each other long enough for me to mean much to him.”

  Hal made a pfft noise. “You’re kidding yourself now. Just think about it, okay? There’s a place here for you, whether you ever take us up on it or not. There’s always gonna be a place for you.”

  Jesus Christ. I did not deserve Hal, not in any way, shape, or form. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, now get out of my sight.” I got off the couch and headed for the stairs. “And Max?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you, man.”

  I didn’t need to be thanked for anything. I didn’t press the point, though, just nodded and headed upstairs. I was quiet entering the guest room, but Dominic was out so hard he didn’t even stir while I got ready for bed. Sliding in next to him, I rolled onto my side and stared at the back of his head. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss him there. The urge to wrap my arm around his waist was almost overwhelming, and not even because I wanted him to wake up and fool around, just because I wanted to hold him. What would it be like to do this every night?

  My throat tightened.

  Was Hal right? Was there really a place for me here in Edgewood? Everything I’d worked toward for the last three rigorous years was in New York, but was that really going to be enough to satisfy me?

  I didn’t know anymore.

  …

  The next morning, I wasn’t sure at first what woke me. Part of me had been braced for yelling and whooping from the girls, shouting about Christmas Day. Instead, I got a warm embrace and a gentle kiss to the back of my neck.