by Alexis Anne
“Well,” she repeated. As if the well somehow softened the blow. “You weren’t very romantic either. Watching your team play is not a date, Jackson. I taught you better than that.”
Also true. You didn’t get to have four sisters and three brothers if your parents weren’t really happy. And trust me, my parents were really happy. They kissed and giggled like teenagers. It was gross but also made me hopeful. I always assumed I’d be just like them. I apparently missed the part where I’d have to act like them to get to the same destination.
“What else?”
“You never did anything Berlin liked to do. You never went to her lectures or her excavations. You never took an interest in her interests. A marriage is two people, not one.”
“So basically I was an asshole.”
“Yes. You were the king of the universe. You wouldn’t listen to me or your brothers. You knew everything.”
I knew nothing. That lesson was the hardest of my life, but it was the one I needed most. “Anything else?”
Mom looked away, chewing on her lip. “Maybe just one more thing.” She started fidgeting, her hands twisting in her lap.
“Mom?”
She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Fine. I wasn’t going to put my nose in your business or give you any false hope, but I can’t keep this to myself.”
For some ridiculous reason the look of hope in her eye made my heart pound harder and faster. “The two of you were very young when you met, not much older when you got married. It was too fast. Too soon. But,” she took another deep breath, “it was right. You loved each other deeply, understood each other in that special way. You could communicate without speaking, you cared for each other until . . . ”
“Until my head grew fifteen sizes.”
She nodded once, my mom’s way of agreeing to something painful.
“I fucked it up.”
“Watch your mouth.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Says the woman who taught me how to swear.” She smiled. I continued, “I did. I messed everything up.”
“The good news is that you can fix it.”
“She’s getting married.” I was too late.
But mom took my hand in hers and squeezed. “She’s engaged, baby boy. Not married. Not yet. There’s still time.”
“Aunt Berlin is walking the dog!” Melly pronounced between licks of vanilla froyo from Ho Ho Ho Froyo. The best thing about being the favorite uncle was that it was also incredibly easy to bribe my nieces into telling me anything.
Melly wore a patchwork Christmas pattern sundress that now had a good amount of vanilla froyo down the front. It was eighty-five degrees at six o’clock in the evening, after all.
“She still take the walking path behind the Co-Op?”
Melly nodded, mouth full. I ruffled her dark hair. “Thanks, girl.”
“Anytime Uncle Jack.” She tucked the five dollar bribe into her red purse.
The island had several walking paths that cut around behind the main buildings. They were nice in the summer because of all the shade provided by the towering pines and cypress trees. At this time of night, with the sunset and Christmas lights glowing from every possible direction, it was almost spooky. Shadows everywhere.
I heard a yip I recognized and walked a little faster.
And then stopped dead in my tracks.
The marriage gods had somehow seen it in their hearts to smile down on me. At least that was how it felt to see Berlin under the mistletoe spotlight, sighing dramatically.
“Anyone? Anyone?” she called over and over.
Mistletoe Key had many quirky traditions, Christmas celebrated year round being the most obvious, but this one had always been my favorite. Mistletoe was strategically hung around the island. When you walked under it, a spotlight turned on. It was considered bad luck to leave the mistletoe spotlight without a kiss. Some say that was what happened the year the great flu took everyone out the week of Christmas. Sally Hawkins had very publicly walked away from the mistletoe on Main Street without a kiss. The very next day she fell ill, along with six others. The next day, half the town was sick. After day three the island was quarantined and all the businesses closed.
Two days before Christmas.
On the island that lived for Christmas.
No one had dared walk away from the mistletoe ever again.
Which was why Berlin was standing under the spotlight all alone. Well, Doug, her Australian Shepard, was sitting on the ground beside her, his tongue hanging out.
“You look like you could use some help.” I stepped close enough so she could see me, but not close enough that she could kill me.
She froze, her beautiful green eyes going wide. “What are you doing here?”
A warm, familiar zing shot through me. Just looking at her had me buzzing.
Her dark hair hung over her shoulders. Hair I used to run my hands through because it was so soft. I would play with it while she lay naked on my chest. Over and over until my hand was tired. I itched to reach out and relive the way those quiet moments stopped time.
But I wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. Not unless I fixed this mess.
“I’m here to rescue you.”
She threw her hands up between us. “Oh no you don’t. I’ll wait for someone else.”
“You could be here all night. It’s Christmas Eve Eve. Everyone is in the town square. No one’s coming down this path any time soon.”
“Then I’ll just leave.”
“No you won’t.” She actually might. As much as Berlin loved the quirky rituals of the island, she was also very practical. She would absolutely leave if I didn’t convince her I was a viable alternative. “You don’t want to bring bad luck to the town.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s a story and you know it.”
“You’ve kissed me hundreds of times,” I said, walking a little closer, needing to see if being near her still did that thing to my stomach. “What’s one more kiss?”
“Jackson Michael Cassidy, if you take one more step closer I will strangle you with my bare hands.”
Yep. There it was. The fire I fell in love with. And now that I was close enough my stomach was indeed doing that Olympic backflip thing I used to love so much.
I swallowed. “I just came down for Christmas with Mom. I heard Doug’s bark and came to make sure you were okay.” That was a little bit of a lie. I heard a yip, not a bark, and I heard it because I was following her.
“I’m fine. Just stuck.” She stomped her foot.
Fire and ice. That’s what people used to call us. Berlin was all fire and passion while I was the cool hockey player. She proposed all the crazy ideas and I made them all happen.
Until I forgot that life was more than hockey.
“And I can help you,” I offered. “Unless you hate me so much you can’t stand to be near me.”
“I can’t stand to be near you,” she spit out.
But I noticed she didn’t say anything about hating me. Maybe I had a shot. Maybe I didn’t. Only one way to find out. “I’m sorry, Berlin.”
She went white.
I stepped closer. “I’m sorry I changed. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good husband. I’m sorry I made you divorce me.” I took another step closer so that we were within touching distance now. “I understand that I gave you no choice.”
“Hockey ruined everything,” she whispered.
Pain shot through my chest. Hockey had given me the life I always dreamed of, but I wasn’t particularly happy living that life without Berlin. It was an empty dream come true. “No. I ruined everything. I let hockey consume me. I let the idea of success turn me into a grade A asshole.”
The corner of her lip turned up at that. “I started calling you Jack-ass right before I asked you for a divorce.”
She probably still called me that. “I’m sorry I ruined us.”
She rolled her shoulders but didn’t say anything. I swear if, after hearing my apology, she still asked me
to leave, I would.
At least I thought I would.
Now that I was standing so close that I could see how fast her chest rose and fell, how her cheeks flushed, could watch her chew on her lip, I was done for. It was just like when we were teenagers. My mind was a blank canvas that only Berlin could paint with her hands and lips.
I felt alive again.
Her lip sprang free of her teeth and she looked up at me. Big green eyes all wide and hopeful. “You’re sorry?”
I nodded. “I am. I couldn’t see what a monster I became back then. I was too consumed by it. Thanks to your ass kicking I’ve gotten to see things from a new perspective.”
“And what perspective is that?” Her words came out all breathy.
It did things to me. Things no other woman had ever done to me. “That hockey is only one part of my life. I miss getting into trouble with you. I miss this island. I miss . . . ” I searched for the exact right thing to say that would explain everything clearly. I wanted her to know I was serious.
And then it hit me.
“I miss opening up the sleeping porch on a breezy night and lying awake with you on my chest, talking all night while we look at the stars, getting drunk on a bottle of rum. I miss waking up a little hungover but with the most spectacular sunrise right in front of us. I miss bringing you coffee so we can stay a little longer.”
I took one last large step so that I stood right in front of her. I’m not sure what I expected to happen. Most likely she was going to slap me or just run away. But instead she blinked up at me with those green eyes, dropped the leash, and kissed me.
It struck me somewhere between the zing of electricity and the complete loss of air in my lungs that this was our third first kiss. The first one being the first. We were eighteen and in our first week of college. I knew the minute I met her I wanted to kiss her. She was just . . . everything. Gorgeous, funny, snarky. She called me out on my bad flirting, then turned right around and flirted with me. Ten minutes later I asked her for a kiss and before I finished my question her hands were on my face, her lips on mine.
The second first kiss was our senior year. I’d broken up with her after a fight about popcorn. Don’t even ask. (It wasn’t really about popcorn.) But a month later we ran into each other at the library and boom. First kiss number two happened between two rows of books on mythology.
We never broke up again. Not until our divorce. I guess you could count our first kiss as a married couple as a first kiss, but I didn’t. Mostly because it didn’t feel like this. There was something about being apart and coming back together for the first time that made those kisses more intense.
And just like both of those first kisses, this one blew me away. I swear fireworks had to be coming out of my head. I wrapped my arms around her because we were both swaying. Also because I really wanted to feel her in my arms again. Her warm body was so much smaller than mine. So much more delicate.
How had I not realized how important that detail felt? Like it was an intentional design that someone like me with a big personality would need to feel that the woman who chose to love me was impossibly strong but also fragile. It felt important now. She would always be light in my arms to constantly remind me to treat her carefully. She put up with me. She stood up to me. But when I pushed too hard I could crush her.
I almost had three years ago.
So I kissed her with everything I had. I knew it was my one and only chance to show her no other man could love her the way I could now. I cupped her face where I knew she was sensitive, ran my thumb over her cheek. I held her close. When she whimpered I drank it in, I turned and kissed her even deeper. Then, just when I thought I might pass out, I pulled back, gasping for air.
“Jack,” she panted, eyes screwed shut.
“I love you.” Three words that meant everything and yet were completely inadequate to describe how I really felt.
She shuddered, then opened her eyes. For a minute we had a very silent, very important discussion.
I love you.
She blinked back tears and, I don’t think she realized it, but she nodded. She didn’t hate me.
I ran my thumb back and forth over her cheek, panting, pleading with her to see me as I was now. Lucky bastard that I was, she searched my eyes, her gaze sweeping over my face before locking back with mine and holding.
Holding.
Begging me to be different.
I am. I love you so much.
Just like my mom said, sometimes Berlin and I had entire conversations without saying a word. It had been entirely too long. Maybe since the early days of our marriage.
“I have to go,” she whispered. She didn’t move though.
I could see her pain. The questions she wanted to ask but wouldn’t. But most of all? I could see that she still loved me.
So I kissed her forehead and released her. “You are hereby freed from the mistletoe.”
She staggered backward, right into Doug. “Ooops!”
He barked.
“Sorry, buddy.” Then she scooped up his leash and moved away from me. “Have a nice Christmas, Jack.”
I stood under the spotlight. I watched her leave as a strange sense of peace settled over me.
Berlin still felt this.
I knew this wasn’t over. I’d just fucked it up was all. She was smart to get rid of me.
Didn’t mean it had to be permanent.
I was three years older. Three years wiser. Three years more determined to win back the woman I knew without a doubt in this world was the only woman for me.
I just had to prove to her that marrying Ryker was a mistake and that she should marry me instead.
Third time’s the charm, right?
Third Times the Charm is coming winter 2020!
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Last Fall (an excerpt)
Meet Jack Cassidy (Berlin’s ex-husband), Zoe, Erik, Seth, and more!
Friday morning the natural alarm clock in my brain woke me at six like it did every other day. At first I tried to go back to sleep. I was comfortable and ridiculously happy in Erik’s bed. He was a funny sleeper though. He liked to sprawl on his stomach. Luckily he had a king-sized bed. I’d woken up with his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades and a small percentage of the mattress in comparison.
I was a fetal position kind of sleeper so it didn’t bother me at all. In a weird way we fit together perfectly. So for a little while I didn’t move. Instead I soaked up the sounds and smells of his room. The condo was high enough up that I didn’t really hear the sounds of cars or traffic. Instead it was the whir of the air conditioning clicking off and on, attempting, even in the early hours of the day, to keep the room cool. His fan spun above us. There was a little tick, tick it made every second or so.
The only other sound was Erik’s soft breaths. Seth had chosen to sleep over at his on-and-off again girlfriend’s apartment so it was just the two of us.
After a little bit I flipped over and faced him. Dawn had broken so some light was creeping in around his blackout curtains. I’d already learned that Erik liked to sleep as long as possible after being on the road, so the curtains were a necessity, but it was just bright enough that I could make out the lines of his jaw and nose, see the stubble shadowing his chin. He and Wes joked that they’d grow playoff beards but I wasn’t so sure it was a joke. I liked that Wes and Roman had pulled Erik into their goofball plans. I understood that Erik would always be the serious one, but it was nice to see him loosen up a little bit.
Honestly it was his serious side that I was so attracted to. It made him easy to read. It was obvious what he cared about and he made it abundantly clear how he expected everyone else to care as well. He was loyal and loving and just plain amazing. It scared me a little how integral he already felt to my life. If he were hurt or had to leave for some reason, I knew it would hurt more than anything I’d ever felt before.
Which of course made me feel a lot of things that wer
e too much for lying around in bed, so I quietly slid away, grabbed one of his shirts, and slunk off to the kitchen.
After brewing up a pot of coffee and scrounging up a plate of cheese and crackers, I settled into the couch to work on my next chapter. I was so deep into my scene that I didn’t even notice the sound of a key in the door.
I also managed to miss the door opening. It wasn’t until Jack was closing the door that I noticed anything at all.
“Well, well, well. You have no idea how happy I am to see you in my little brother’s t-shirt,” he chuckled softly.
I jumped, not that crushing my laptop to my chest would have stopped a robber, but human instinct is what it is. “Jesus, Jack. You scared me.”
He shrugged, not looking at all sorry. “I promised Erik I’d stop by and drag him out to breakfast. He gets jittery before big games. I’m guessing something distracted him and he forgot.”
The ridiculous grin on his face told me he was genuinely happy about this little mix-up. “Why are you so happy about this?”
“Because,” he made himself quite at home by pouring a cup of coffee, “I like you and I think you’re a good fit for him. The Cassidy family is very serious about relationships, in case you haven’t noticed. Erik in particular.”
“What does that even mean?” I set the laptop down and made sure the blanket on the couch properly covered my very bare legs.
Jack and Erik looked so much alike. It was a little disconcerting, actually. Their eyes were slightly different shades of brown and Jack kept a beard, but they had the same coloring, same build, same face shape. Even their voices were similar. So as he made himself comfortable in the armchair opposite me, I had to remind myself it was Jack, not Erik.
So weird.
“My brother’s not a saint. He has dated for fun a few times, but serious fun, you know?”
I had a good idea, actually. “Someone he liked and respected and had a good time with. Short term. Ended it when he realized they really weren’t going anywhere?”
