Christmas With You

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “So, um, this hot chocolate is really good.” She licked it off her upper lip, and his eyes tracked the movement. “Emmett?”

  He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Can’t drink any because you’re on duty?” She lifted the cup and eyed it suspiciously. “What exactly do they put in it? If I get sloppy drunk one more time, I’m pretty sure the sheriff will haul me to jail.”

  “Ha-ha. I just haven’t had time to try a cup, because anytime I go near the table, someone needs something. Plus, there are doughnuts over there, and I’d hate to become a walking cliché.”

  Regina opened her mouth to tell him she’d cover for him if he wanted to grab a cup now—no promises about refraining from cop/doughnut jokes—but before she could, an older lady burst right into their cozy bubble.

  “Oh good, I found you.” Her words were spoken on a huff, her movements urgent. “Jack parked in the spot where Santa Claus arrives in his sleigh. You need to make him move his truck.”

  “I think there’s an opening on the other side of the stage,” Emmett said. “Just have Joe circle—”

  “Shhh.” The woman wildly looked around. “Santa always comes in the same way. It’s what everyone expects, and you can’t change the rules because Jack is your buddy. I warned him I’d get the law involved if he didn’t listen, and typical, he has to do things the hard way.”

  Unlike the woman, who was clearly so easy-going. She charged through the crowd, obviously sure the sheriff would follow. Emmett sighed and raked a hand through his hair, causing some of the strands to stick up at different angles. “Guess I better go deal with that.”

  “Okay, but just so you know, this is all part of my evil plan,” Regina said. “Distract the sheriff with Santa problems so I can elbow my way to the switch that’ll light the tree. Where is it again?”

  “Sheriff!” the woman demanded, and he began walking backward.

  He pointed a finger at Regina. “Behave till I get back.”

  “No promises,” she said, while her inner voice squealed over the phrase till I get back.

  He shook his head, a slight curve to his lips. “Out of towners, man.”

  Over the next several minutes, a Christmas carol was sung by the crowd, the middle school band struggled through a trumpet-heavy rendition of “Silent Night” that was anything but silent, and then everyone leaned forward as one as they waited for the tree to light up. The effect was breathtaking. Twinkling lights lit up the ornaments and tinsel, and as if the universe was punctuating the night, fat flakes of snow began floating down.

  Santa Claus rode in on a sleigh—from the area the woman had indicated he always came in from, so evidently Emmett had cleared up the parking disaster. The children surged toward the jolly old elf, and in spite of the chaotic state of her life, their excitement washed over her, giving her that tingly, Christmas sensation she hadn’t experienced since she was a kid.

  “Looking for Regina?” Callie asked Emmett as he glanced around the area.

  “I’m doing my job,” he said. “Making sure that everyone peaceably disassembles.”

  “Sure.”

  You didn’t get to his position without being able to observe a lot at once, and sure, Regina was on the list of things he wouldn’t mind seeing right now. Most likely she’d gone back to the B&B already, the cold too much, even with that boa constrictor scarf.

  For the first time in a long time, he’d been enjoying one of the festivities, right before getting a reminder of why he disliked them. Talk about drama. Over parking, even though most of the lots didn’t have lines, and the ones that did, people took as a loose suggestion. Technically, everyone who’d been parked in the grassy area where Jack left his truck had been parked illegally, but no one seemed to care about actual laws, only tradition.

  Just another night in Friendship.

  Only then he spotted Regina, and it wasn’t another regular night. Of their own accord, his legs took him closer to her. “Hey,” he said when he reached her.

  “Hey. Not sure how warm it is now, but I grabbed an extra, just in case you hadn’t had a chance yet.” She extended a cardboard cup, along with a doughnut wrapped in a napkin. “And cliché or not, it’s a shame to pass up doughnuts—if I were a cop, that’s what I’d arrest people for.”

  Was it sad that it was probably the nicest thing anyone had done for him in a while? Sure there was the general friendliness that abounded here, but this was a deeper level, one that said she’d noticed.

  “Thank you.” He juggled the doughnut in his left hand and sipped the hot chocolate. Lukewarm but still good. “How’d you like the ceremony?”

  “It was beautiful, and for the first time this year, it actually feels like Christmas. Admittedly, I was a tad disappointed in the lack of fisticuffs over pulling the switch.”

  “Yeah, it doesn’t feel like Christmas until someone gets punched in the face,” he said, and she laughed. “It means I was doing my job.”

  “Oh, so now you’re taking credit for the whole thing?”

  “Basically.” Had he stepped closer? Or had she? The lights from the tree lit up her face with a soft glow. He wanted to tug her scarf down a couple of inches so he could see the smile lifting her cheeks instead of simply knowing it was there.

  “Before I forget, I assume you’re responsible for the fact that my car no longer looks like Cupid threw up on it?”

  “Can’t take all the credit. Your drinking buddies helped.”

  Another laugh. “Drinking buddies. Never had those before. Honestly, I was a bit antsy all day, trying to figure out what to do with myself. Usually my days are cram-packed with meetings and spreadsheets and reports, and without a long to-do list … well, I’m trying to live in the now a bit more, but it still feels weird.”

  “I find the people who live in the now are the ones who end up in jail.”

  She tilted her head. “Is that supposed to be encouraging? Because if so, I’ve gotta say, it needs work.”

  “The truth’s the truth, no matter how you dress it up. Not that I’m saying you should schedule every second of every day.”

  “How much of your life is planned out?” She was definitely the one who moved closer this time, and the scrutinizing scrunch of her forehead made him way too self-conscious, another emotion he hadn’t experienced in a long time. “You don’t seem like a go-with-the-flow guy, but you don’t seem like much of a planner either.”

  “Hard to plan when you don’t know what people are gonna get themselves into. Mostly I just plan to go to work and deal with issues and perceived disasters as they inevitably arise.”

  “There’s the Grinch making an appearance again.”

  “If the green shoe fits, I’ll go ahead and wear it.”

  She glanced down at his boots.

  “It was a metaphor,” he said.

  “Careful what you say, because now if I see green shoes, I’m going to buy them for you.”

  “You’d be hard pressed to find any in this town, so I’ll take my chances.”

  She grinned, and he thought again about how nicely the tree lights played across her features. A quick check made it clear most people had gone home, leaving only a few stragglers out and about, along with a few couples. The couples were caught up in each other, but several of the stragglers were looking their way, as if he and Regina were a television show. The rumors will be flying tomorrow.

  He gulped down what was left of the hot cocoa and then crumpled his cup and tossed it in the nearby recycling can, his plan to tell her good night.

  “Wow. Nothing but net—or plastic, as it were,” Regina said, and the fact that she sounded so impressed made him feel like a superstar over such a menial thing. “I’d definitely miss.”

  “Just takes some practice.” Emmett debated following through with his plan to tell her good night but found he didn’t want the night to end quite yet, onlookers or not. The townspeople were going to talk anyway, so he might as well have the benefit of
spending time with her. “Try it.”

  As she bent to grab a discarded cup, her scarf came undone enough to loop around her knee. She battled it for a moment before he stepped in to help.

  “Not sure you can throw with so many layers on,” he said.

  “Honestly, my fingers turned numb long ago anyway. So now I have two excuses to blame if I miss.” She cocked her arm, and he stepped in front of her, blocking her throw.

  “Wait. You’ve got to crumple it so the air doesn’t catch it.” He squished the cup into a tight ball and returned it to her.

  “Were you a sports guy in high school?”

  “In this town, everyone has to play every sport or you don’t have a team. What about you?”

  “I was the girl who studied and lost sleep over SATs. Even after I graduated, there was college, where I’d have another test or project to worry about. Then I went right to work, where there were reports and performance reviews and slaving away to climb the ladder as fast as possible. Save last night, I don’t remember the last time I relaxed, and that wasn’t so much relaxed as …”

  “Wasted.”

  She gave his shoulder a light shove. “Gee, thanks. I was going to say slightly tipsy—sounds much better.”

  “Stop stalling and shoot the cup,” he teased, gripping her hips and turning her to face the trash can.

  She cocked her arm and then let it fly. Her throw went wide and short, landing feet away from the can. “Oh great. I’ve gotten worse.”

  Emmett retrieved another cup and crumpled it. He wasn’t sure why this suddenly seemed important, but while she’d been joking before, her expression spoke to a sense of failure that had to do with more than her toss. “Not to do the cheesy-guy-showing-a-girl-how-to-shoot thing, but …” He stepped up behind her. “I’m going to teach you how to aim and follow through.”

  “Usually follow through is my thing,” she said, her lips slightly pursed.

  “Good. Then you’ll be a natural.” He gave her the cup and slid his hand down her arm. Even with all the layers, his pulse quickened. He guided her arm up and put it through the motions a few times. “We’re gonna let go this time. Ready?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. For a moment, time froze. Determination set in to her jaw, and then she nodded. “Ready.”

  “I did it!” It took a couple of times with Emmett’s help—and okay, they’d scooted a yard or so closer—but she’d finally managed to land a cup in the recycling bin. She spun in Emmett’s arms and peered up at him. His teeth weren’t showing, but that was definitely a smile.

  Her heart skipped a few beats, and without notice, her body went haywire on her.

  What was she doing this close to a guy? One she barely knew, the day after she was supposed to get married. She took a large step back. “I, uh, guess I’d better get back to the B&B.”

  “I’ll walk you.”

  “Can’t vouch for everyone out and about tonight?” she asked, attempting to infuse a teasing tone into her voice. She needed to steer things back to lighter territory. Safer territory.

  Emmett’s eyes remained steady on hers. “I can. I’d still feel better if I walked you there myself.”

  A torn sensation went through her, half celebration, half fear. But it was only a couple of blocks. Not like she could fall for a guy in that short a distance. She was relatively sure anyway, although these days everything she thought she knew kept coming unraveled.

  They picked up a few more stray cups on their way out of the park, opting for dropping them into the bin instead of shooting them inside.

  Without Emmett’s heat at her back, the icy air cut through all her layers, and she tugged her borrowed coat tighter around her. She went ahead and added another scarf coil around the lower part of her face because maybe that’d keep her from thinking about silly things like what it’d feel like to press her lips to the sheriff’s.

  They walked mostly in silence, the majority of the talking done by people they bumped into on the sidewalk. After parting ways with another pair who’d stopped to inquire about their evening and wish them a good night, Regina said, “Um, you might want to vouch for me, because everyone we pass is studying me super closely.”

  “Correction, they’re studying us closely. And I’m not sure I know you well enough to vouch for you.”

  As tended to happen around him, her jaw dropped. She made an offended noise and smacked his arm.

  “For one, you go around hitting the sheriff,” he said with a chuckle. Both of them slowed their pace as the Cozy Cottage came into view. Mere minutes ago, she wanted to hurry and get there so she could lock herself in her room. Perhaps take a hot bath and see if she could get feeling back in her extremities. But now she wanted to slow down again. Her emotions really needed to make up their mind.

  Logic said this guy was dangerous—when it came to her already beaten-up heart anyway. And she was only here temporarily. And a hundred other “ands.”

  Emmett walked her all the way to the front porch and then braced his hand on the beam next to her.

  “One more citizen delivered safe and sound,” she said, her voice slightly breathy, and not from the walk or the cold. “You deserve a gold star. Oh, wait. You’ve already got one.”

  He bit back his smile.

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” he asked.

  “Refuse to smile. The only full smile I’ve seen was at your sister’s. And don’t act like you’re not holding it back, because I’m hilarious.”

  “You do look kinda funny in that scarf.”

  She shoved his solid chest, and he chuckled, his laugh and corresponding smile subdued but there. Then his brown eyes landed on hers. “Maybe I forgot how.” When she aimed a skeptical expression his way, he added, “It’s not easy walking the right line between friendly and stern. Going overboard on the stern is better than everyone thinking they can take advantage of the friendly.”

  “But Fern said you’ve been grouchier lately.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have started this line of questioning, but she couldn’t help herself. Even as she told herself to tread carefully, she wanted to know more. “Is there a reason for that?”

  “Besides the fact that there’s an event every night, and at each one of those, someone will park in the wrong space, or think they should have special privileges, or a hundred other … what did you call them? First World problems?”

  “Yes, besides that.”

  “Not sure. Just haven’t felt like myself.” His gaze dipped to her mouth for the briefest second. “But tonight’s been the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

  She leaned closer and toyed with the edges of his jacket. He should zip it up. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t too cold, but she liked that she could peek at the form-fitted shirt under the layers. Before tonight, she might’ve claimed a man in uniform didn’t affect her. “Does that mean I get a full smile?”

  “Not yet,” he said, a slight curve to his lips. “But maybe if you stick around long enough, you’ll see one eventually.”

  “Oh, I’ll get one out of you yet.”

  “Good night, Regina.” Even though he’d wished her goodbye, he didn’t move, his palm still braced by her head. Now she was the one staring at lips—his, obviously.

  Nope, the scarf didn’t stop thoughts of kissing him. It did help her from following through though. “Good night, Emmett.”

  He closed his eyes, so fleetingly she almost thought she imagined it, and his fingers lightly brushed her cheekbone as he pushed back, turned, and walked back the way they’d come.

  Chapter Five

  “So, we couldn’t help noticing you spent most of the time at the tree lighting ceremony with the sheriff,” Fern said Monday morning, pulling a chair away from the table in the living room of the B&B and plopping herself into it.

  “And that he walked you home,” Marge, the woman who’d given her the giant scarf, added.

  While Regina kept her attention on the breakfast pl
ate in front of her, she was no longer worried about her lack of personal space. She was quickly learning that didn’t exist here in Friendship. She sipped her orange juice, taking her sweet time as she calculated how to respond. “He was just being a gentleman.”

  Two unconvinced faces stared at her, clearly waiting for more.

  Fern sighed. “Come on. We need more than that. He’s a right grouch lately, and we were hoping you could help him get over that.”

  “Careful. It sounds like you’re pimping out your guests.”

  “Hey, I’m not entirely opposed to it,” Fern said, and Marge hooted like she’d told a grand joke. Most of the time when the words bad influences got tossed around, people automatically pictured rebellious teenagers, but these two were definitely up to no good.

  Emmett warned me to look out for the gray-haired ladies. Next thing you know, they’re going to insist on teaching me to sew. Or knit. Stifling a laugh, Regina picked up her biscuit and split it so she could add butter and jam. “You remember how I was supposed to walk down the aisle a few days ago?”

  The chair legs scraped across the wooden floor as Marge scooted her chair closer. “We remember that you didn’t. That’s the important part.”

  “Doesn’t mean my heart didn’t get plenty beat up.”

  Both women appeared slightly reprimanded, but Regina doubted it’d last so she figured she should change the subject. “If I’m going to stay two weeks—”

  “You are,” Fern said in a no-room-for-argument tone.

  “Then I’m going to need more than the outfit I borrowed from Callie and the suitcase full of summer clothes I packed for the beach.” This morning, she’d put on Callie’s jeans along with a ruffled short-sleeved blouse that’d have her freezing to death in five minutes flat if she dared to step outside without her also-borrowed coat and scarf. “Where does one shop for clothes around these parts?”

  Fern’s eyes widened in a way that sent a prickling sense of foreboding across Regina’s skin. “You could ask the sheriff to drive you into the city. Takes just over an hour to get there, so that’d give you lots of time together.”