A Tale of Two Christmas Letters

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Not dissuaded in the least, he mimicked a very proper British accent. “A spot of tea, then?”

  She burst into giggles again, and Jack knew he had her.

  “Fine.” Still chuckling, she lifted a hand in airy surrender, then took him by the wrist and guided him into the house, shutting the door behind them. After their coats and her bag found their way into a chair, she shook her head. “I don’t know how you could possibly hold anything after all that popcorn and candy and diet soda we had, but sure... I’ll put on a kettle if it will make you happy.”

  He admired the sway of her hips beneath her trim black slacks and the way her fitted blouse clung to her breasts, as she led the way into the kitchen. It took every ounce of his self-restraint to keep his thoughts to himself.

  “You have to enjoy your last few days of solitude,” he said. “After that, it’ll be puppy chaos all the time.”

  There’d be no more completely carefree evenings. No more getting to know each other the way they needed to if they were to take whatever this was turning out to be to the next level.

  She smiled at him, and he lounged against the counter across from her, his arms braced on either side of him. Powerful chemistry arced between them.

  “What do you know about puppy chaos?” she countered.

  “Not nearly enough, I imagine,” he murmured, distracted by the upward tilt of her lips and the tousled waves of her hair.

  She sashayed closer and splayed her hands across his chest. Mischief glimmering in her eyes, she looked up at him, as if quietly contemplating their options for what was left of their evening.

  “Well, you’ve got a point, Doc.” She gave a lusty sigh. Then, her emerald green eyes glimmering, she rose on tiptoe and fitted her lips to his. Her kiss was everything he wanted, sweet and evocative, playful and tempting.

  Excitement building, body hardening, he threaded his hands through her hair and kissed her back. Not stopping until she trembled in response and tore her lips from his.

  “I suppose it would be prudent to take advantage of our—” breathing raggedly, she began to unbutton his shirt “—solitude.”

  He pretended shock. “Why, Nurse Monroe! Are you coming on to me?” Sliding his hands down her hips, he moved to shift places with her, so her back was to the counter. His hands planted on either side of her, trapping her between the cabinets and his tall body.

  Looking delighted to be his sensual captive, she wreathed her arms about his neck, bringing him closer still, and pressed her breasts against his chest. “Hmm, I think I am. Got a problem with that, Doc?”

  He laughed huskily, loving this naughty side of her. “None at all.” He eased his hands beneath her blouse and found her breasts, unclasped her bra. Her nipples were as taut with desire and silky warm as he recalled. He could tell by her shallow breathing how aroused she already was. Then he fused his mouth to hers, enjoying the way she opened her lips to the plundering exploration of his tongue. Responding with a hunger and need that matched his own.

  “Bed,” she whispered.

  With the ache inside him growing, he kissed his way down her neck, to the open collar of her blouse, to the U of her collarbone.

  “Eventually,” he promised, knowing the longer they heightened the anticipation, the greater the payoff would be.

  She arched against him, gasping when he opened her blouse all the way and his lips reached her breasts, closing around the tips.

  She purred as the pleasure seemed to ripple through her. Never one for passivity, she tugged the hem of his shirt from the waistband of his jeans. Swiftly, the buttons came undone. Her hands found him, too, and his muscles clenched as she touched the skin of his pecs, his tight nipples, the hair on his chest...

  “Thought I was in charge here,” he gasped. He undid the waistband of her slacks. Eased his hands beneath. Found her silky, warm, wet.

  She kicked free of her clothes. Divested him of the rest of his. Surged up against him once again. “Equal opportunity lovemaking, didn’t you know?”

  He chuckled, pleased. “I do now.”

  Naked, they came together against the wall. She molded her body to his, kissing him again and again and again.

  The ache inside him growing, he stepped between her legs. Taking both her hands in his, he lifted them over her head, pinning them there.

  “Looking for a sweet spot?” she asked breathlessly.

  He laughed and dropped his hands to trace the enticing womanly curve of her derriere. “Actually, quite a few...” Parting her thighs with his knee, he moved closer, found one, then another and another.

  Clearly impatient for more, she groaned and rubbed her body against his, rising to meet him, the pinnacle of her release taking them by surprise.

  “Now...” she whimpered, still shaking.

  Glad to oblige, he moved inside her, taking the tremors to new, more powerful depths. The magical connection between them spiraled. And Jack knew the terms of their bargain...this Christmas...was just the beginning.

  He lifted his head. Smiled down into her eyes.

  “Once again, spectacular,” she said.

  His need to make her his intensified, not just for the season, but for all time. He stepped back and lifted her into his arms. “Then I’m assuming you won’t mind if we do it again?” He carried her the short distance to her bed.

  She chuckled softly. “You’re indefatigable.” She opened her arms to let him back in.

  And with good reason. He was trying to achieve a Christmas miracle here.

  “Let’s just say,” he murmured, joining her beneath the sheets and picking up right where they’d left off, “you inspire me.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Be prepared for questions,” Jack whispered in Bess’s ear Wednesday evening as he took her coat. “The Terrific Trio is in full interrogation mode tonight.”

  Chuckling, Bess gazed up at him. “Am I going to need a lawyer?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” she quipped. Then, sensing he was thinking of kissing her, she quickly moved to sidestep the sprig of mistletoe still hanging in his foyer.

  Just in time, as it happened.

  Lindsay, Chloe and Nicole raced through the hallway from the rear of the house and dashed toward her. All three had red monogrammed aprons on over their dresses, and Santa hats on their heads.

  “Daddy said he doesn’t want to wear his apron,” Lindsay reported.

  “But we said he should,” Nicole chimed in.

  “’Cause he’ll get messy, if he doesn’t,” Chloe said.

  Sensing a slight change of subject was in order, Bess asked, “Where’s Mrs. D.?” She had been counting on Jack’s nanny to help supervise the decorating.

  Jack stood with one brawny shoulder braced against the breakfast room portal. In jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved cotton shirt that brought out the cobalt blue of his eyes, with his short hair neatly brushed and the barest hint of stubble on his face, he looked like any dad set to enjoy a relaxing evening at home with his family.

  Except she wasn’t his wife or his daughters’ mommy... Nor, given his reluctance to ever remarry, was she ever likely to be.

  Picking up on her sudden ambivalence, he flashed a reassuring smile. “They were unexpectedly one judge short at the ugly Christmas sweater competition over at Laramie Gardens senior living facility.” He pushed away from the door and came to stand next to her. “Mrs. D. went to help out.”

  “That was nice of her. I hear it’s pretty competitive.”

  “Yeah, it is. Comically so.” He gave her an appreciative once-over, settled on her face. “Not to worry. Mrs. D. got us all set up this afternoon, by preassembling all four houses.”

  Bess blinked in surprise. “There are only four?”

  Lindsay retorted, “Daddy says you can decorate his, Bess,
’cause he doesn’t really like icing stuff all that much. But we think everybody should share. Because sharing is fair.”

  Bess smiled, the affection she felt for all three girls pouring through her. “It certainly is.”

  Nicole wrapped her arms around Bess’s waist. “Do you like candy?”

  Bess stroked Nicole’s golden curls. “Yes, I do.”

  “Good, because we’ve got gumdrops and chocolate kisses and all sorts of colored ones. Fruity kind and chocolate kind and peppermint sticks, too.”

  Chloe joined the fray shyly. “Here’s your apron, Bess.” It was also red, though not monogrammed.

  “Daddy?” Lindsay challenged.

  Jack locked eyes with Bess, as if he knew what was coming, then made a face. The girls thrust another plain red apron at him. Bess soon saw what the problem was. It was too tiny for his large frame. He could barely get it around his neck. It only half covered his chest, and there was no way it was going to fasten.

  Nevertheless, seeing how important it was to his girls that they all be similarly outfitted, Bess called on Jack’s usual sportsmanship and suggested, “Maybe if you have an old necktie, I can fix you up.”

  While he was gone, she went ahead and put her apron on, as well as the Santa cap the girls gave her.

  “Don’t you look festive,” Jack drawled upon his return.

  She motioned for him to bend down. She slapped a hat on his head, purposefully doing it so it fell over one of his eyes. The girls erupted in giggles. “You look festive, too!”

  Bess fastened his apron, with the necktie, and then they settled down to decorate, and after some convoluted discussion, they finally decided to do the three girls’ houses first, with Jack and Bess assisting. The icing was premade, too, so all they had to do was smear the gingerbread rooftops.

  A task easier said than done by his three young girls. The white icing was soon everywhere, in their hair, on their clothes and faces and hands. Somehow Jack and Bess got it all over themselves, too.

  And of course there were more questions, as Jack had warned. Lots and lots of questions. “Do you like to make gingerbread houses, Bess?” Lindsay asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you do one this year?” Nicole wanted to know.

  “Not for quite a while.”

  Chloe paused. “Did you make cookies?”

  “Um, not yet,” Bess admitted reluctantly. She’d been too busy being pursued by Jack and pursuing him a little in return.

  Lindsay licked icing off a spoon. “Then how are you going to leave them out for Santa?”

  Jack cut in, “Santa doesn’t come to Bess’s house, remember?”

  Nicole’s eyes widened. “Then who does?” She turned to face Bess, and her arm hit the house she was decorating, pushing it precariously close to the table’s edge.

  Bess caught the confection before it could fall, and unobtrusively pushed it back to safety. “Usually I end up going over to one of my brothers’ or sisters’ houses on Christmas Day.”

  “But what about Christmas morning?”

  “Well, before my twin sister, Bridgett, got married, we always had a sleepover on Christmas Eve.”

  Lindsay’s eyes widened. “Did you stay up till midnight talking and goofing around?”

  “Pretty much. But now I usually sleep in.” Feel sorry for myself. Wish I had a husband to love and a family of my own, too.

  “So you’re all alone?” Nicole noted plaintively.

  Ignoring Jack’s quiet, intent gaze, Bess soothed all three girls with a smile. “For a little while—”

  “Daddy, that’s not fair,” Lindsay interrupted before Bess could finish. “Bess shouldn’t be all lonely on Christmas!”

  “Yeah, Daddy,” Chloe said fiercely.

  Nicole added, “She should come and spend it with us!”

  * * *

  Jack had figured his girls would find a way to put him and Bess on the spot. They had been doing that a lot lately. Maybe because they sensed that his feelings for their old family friend, which had always been warm and cordial, had taken on a more intimate hue.

  He turned to Bess, who was bright red, then said as casually as possible, “This wasn’t how I was planning to broach the subject—” not anywhere close, actually “—but I agree with the girls.” He looked deep into Bess’s eyes, doing his best to let her know how much he had come to care for her. “It’s not fair you are alone on Christmas Eve, and again on Christmas morning. It’s not fair,” he added before he could stop himself, “you don’t have everything you always wanted.”

  Briefly, the girls looked confused.

  Bess stiffened. “I know you’re all feeling sorry for me right now, but it’s not necessary. The truth is, I have a lot of invitations and I could go to a lot of other places if I wanted to do so. I just don’t want to, well, horn in on someone’s private—” she looked as if she was going to say affair, but decided instead to say “—present-unwrapping.”

  Nicole’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean, Daddy? Bess doesn’t want to ham in?”

  “Horn in,” Jack corrected. “And it means she is being as gracious as always. But when it comes to our family, I think we—” his gaze encompassed all three daughters meaningfully “—are all in agreement that we would really like to have you here with us this year, on Christmas Eve, when we go to my parents’ open house at their ranch, as well as on Christmas morning.” He gave her a significant look. “For a whole host of reasons.”

  “Yes, Bess! You should come!” the girls pleaded.

  “Well,” Bess said eventually. She watched Jack’s daughters press pieces of candy into the still sticky icing. “Maybe I could drop by for a little while?”

  Jack kicked back in his chair. “To both?”

  Her head lifted and her green eyes locked on his. She nodded shyly. “If it’s okay with your parents.”

  Exhaling slowly, he found himself wanting to be the man of her fantasies. She was certainly the woman of his.

  “You’ve got to know it will be more than okay,” he said softly. And to emphasize his point, he inclined his head in the direction of the mistletoe his mother had hung in the foyer at the other end of the hall.

  Bess’s eyes glittered with the memory of their last kiss there.

  “But I would probably drive out separately on Christmas Eve, because...um...I’ve got stuff—” like two puppies to take care of, he remembered “—going on here in town.”

  “That would be fine,” Jack said. “I’ll text you the details about the open house, and we will see you there.”

  “As your platonic compadre,” Bess confirmed.

  He nodded his reluctant agreement. They would have to change that eventually. But right now, what they had discovered was so fragile and new, he didn’t want to risk messing it up.

  “Christmas morning will be a lot more private and relaxed,” he promised.

  The girls, understanding only that their wish had come true, jumped up and down.

  “Yeah!”

  “Hurray!”

  “I’m so happy!”

  They certainly would be, to have Bess sharing the Christmas holiday with them. Seeing his youngest was lagging behind her older sisters, Jack reached over to help put colored chocolate candy pieces on Chloe’s gingerbread house. “Just make sure you get here before 5:00 a.m. so you don’t miss all the excitement,” he told Bess.

  Her festive laugh filled the air. “I’ve heard it gets started early.”

  “You have no idea.”

  For the next few minutes, they all worked in companionable silence, adding gumdrops and peppermint candy canes, rainbow-colored candy pieces and chocolate kisses until there was literally no more room to add any more.

  “Now, Daddy and Bess,” Lindsay directed, “you do one together and we will watch!”

 
The girls got up and motioned Jack and Bess to sit together in front of the remaining undecorated gingerbread house. Bess focused on spreading the icing, while Jack decorated as fast as he could.

  “Are you coming to our preschool sing-along tomorrow night with Daddy?” Nicole asked. The girls lingered nearby, eating candy.

  Bess paused, as if not certain how to answer that.

  Three little faces fell in heart-wrenching disappointment, the kind that came mostly at times like this, when other kids they knew had both a mommy and a daddy to share their joy.

  “Don’t you want to hear us sing?” Chloe’s lower lip trembled.

  “It’s all Christmas songs!” Lindsay, who would be appearing as a preschool alumna, informed her.

  Nicole nodded urgently. “We’re going to be on the stage and everything! And then we get to go to Uncle Dan and Aunt Kelly’s afterward, and have pizza and cookies and all sorts of stuff with the cousins!”

  “Please, Bess?” Chloe begged. “Please say you’ll come.”

  “It won’t be as much fun if you don’t,” Lindsay said, near tears.

  Looking a little misty herself, Bess hugged the girls close, in turn. “Of course I would love to be there,” she said thickly. “So yes, I will meet you all at the preschool. And go to the party afterward, too.”

  Once again, Jack noted, she was nixing anything that would make it more like a date.

  * * *

  “Sorry about that,” Jack said, after the girls were in bed and he came back downstairs. Bess had already carefully carried the four creations to the dining room table for display. Together, they went back to the kitchen to clean up the gingerbread house decorating disarray.

  He brought the wastebasket over, and they both got down on the floor to pick up the pieces of candy scattered about the breakfast room floor, before it became an even bigger mess.

  “The girls asked me earlier about the sing-along,” he said. “I knew you were still on the fence, and I told them I wasn’t sure you were going to be able to attend.”

  Bess picked up the last two stray candies. “Well, I am happy it all worked out and that I can come.”