It’s Not Christmas Without You
By HelenKay Dimon
Carrie Anders officially broke up with Austin Thomas when she accepted a dream job in the city. Unofficially, she misses him and is tempted to sneak back to her West Virginia hometown to see him. That’s why this year, she’s not going home for the holidays. Her heart can’t take any more mornings-after where nothing has changed—and Austin has made it clear he’s not interested in relocating.
Austin’s been waiting for Carrie to realize she can’t live without him. But when he hears she’s not coming home for Christmas, he decides to take action. If Carrie won’t come to the country, he’s going to bring a piece of the country to Carrie—in the form of a Christmas tree lot just minutes from her apartment. He’s certain daily meetings will entice her to come home with him, this time for good.
Their attraction is as hot as ever, but with such contrary Christmas wishes, can either of them get what they really want this year?
28,000 words
Dear Reader,
In December 2010 we published our first set of three holiday collections. I hoped at the time it would become a Carina Press tradition, and I’m pleased that we were able to do this again in 2011.
This year, I invited four amazing authors to participate in the contemporary holiday collection. Between them, Jaci Burton, HelenKay Dimon, Alison Kent and Shannon Stacey have decades of writing experience and have published books their fans have adored. I knew these four authors would bring together holiday stories that would capture our hearts and take us away from the holiday craziness for a few hours. And did they ever!
I’m thrilled and proud to share the heart-wrenching and wonderful holiday stories of the Holiday Kisses collection with you. I hope you love A Rare Gift by Jaci Burton, It’s Not Christmas Without You by HelenKay Dimon, This Time Next Year by Alison Kent and Mistletoe and Margaritas by Shannon Stacey as much as I did. These are stories and characters that will live on for you, long after you’ve read the last page.
I’m incredibly pleased to make these stories available to you both individually, and as a collection, and I hope you fall in love with them just as I did!
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
Dedication
To Melissa Thomas-Van Gundy for stepping in during national disasters, fighting fires, getting your doctorate and conserving our nation’s forests, but mostly for being a dear friend who helped me survive high school.
Contents
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About the Author
Chapter One
Carrie Anders loved Christmas. The lights, the cookies, the holiday spirit, the cookies, the carols…the cookies. She’d spent every holiday of the last twenty-six years in Holloway, West Virginia, the small town a few miles from the Maryland border where she grew up and her parents and brother still lived. She planned on breaking her streak by staying in Washington, D.C., this year.
No big family dinner. No week off. Just one day at home in her tiny apartment before heading back to her shift at the museum. Though she loved the job, the idea of working over the holidays made her grumpy to the point of sneering. But keeping busy meant keeping her mind off the man she missed more each day instead of less.
That whole absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder thing? Yeah, that wasn’t her experience. Not if the constant dull ache in her chest was an indication. After months away from home, and him, she still felt the pull. She’d read all about eternal longing in books and thought it sounded dramatic. Now she lived it.
She’d be in a meeting or even brushing her teeth and her mind would wander back to the man who’d grabbed her heart when he was still a long-haired boy driving a muscle car. Good thing her mom had shipped two tins of sugar cookies for early holiday taste testing. They took her mind off everything else…for a second or two. Only broken edges remained, but Carrie kept eating. She may even have licked her finger then crunched it against the crumbs for a snack.
Rather than mope in a sea of cookie dust and dwell on that whole broken-heart thing, she buttoned her peacoat and went downstairs for some fresh Sunday air. Standing in the lobby of her apartment building, she stared at the empty lot across the street. Make that the formerly empty lot.
The corner at the end of the Whitehurst Freeway that separated the Foggy Bottom area of Washington, D.C., from its wealthy neighbor Georgetown now housed what looked like a misplaced forest. Hundreds of soon-to-be Christmas trees lined the small strip of grass usually reserved for resident dog walking. Something about the combination of dog poo and Christmas trees fit with her feelings about the holiday this year.
A string of white lights clipped to beams outlined the space in a square. A building about the size of a shed sat at the end closest to the street. As she watched, a man grabbed the trees from the stacks one-by-one and staked them upright.
Despite the chill and last night’s dusting of snow, he wore faded blue jeans and a half-tucked-in flannel shirt. His only nod to the weather was the combination of work boots and gloves, and those likely had more to do with the way he was throwing six-foot trees around than the icy air.
It was the first week of December. She’d been counting down the days until the lot opened because, by God, she’d have a tree even if she had to move her couch into the hallway to fit the tree in her five-hundred square foot apartment.
But it looked like she’d have to wait a few more hours until the lot was up and running. Maybe she’d grab a coffee and…
Her gaze went back to the guy and an unexpected heat rolled through her. Broad shoulders and a waist trim enough to make the hem of his shirt hang away from his body. The rip in his decade-old jeans right under his left butt cheek. The slight flap to the pocket where the thread lost its battle with time.
Oh, yeah. She knew that ass. Knew all of him, actually. Brown hair that brushed against his eyebrows, bright blue eyes and a stubborn streak to rival the obstinance of two eighty-year-old coal miners engaged in a political argument.
Austin Thomas. High school love, ex-boyfriend of six months who refused to stay ex, and the reason for the constant ache around her heart.
Her sneakers slipped against the slick sidewalk as she stumbled her way into a perfect furious stalk. Excitement and anger warred inside her with each breath. She tamped down on the white light of happiness that bloomed in her stomach just from seeing him and let the darker side of her emotions fuel her steps.
Five feet away, Austin spun around and shot her his best I’ve-been-waiting-for-you smile. The same one guaranteed to make her panties hit the floor and her common sense pack for vacation.
Oh, no. Not this time.
“What are you doing here?” She almost hated to look into his eyes because they possessed the super power of turning her witless.
“Working.”
“No.”
He peeled off his gloves and t
ucked them in his back pocket. “No?”
“You’re not supposed to be here.” He got West Virginia in the break-up and she got D.C. She’d never said the parameters out loud, but she shouldn’t have to. Austin was an avowed city-hater. “We broke up.”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.”
They’d been on-and-off since high school. Separate colleges led them to date other people. When they both landed back home in Holloway more than three years ago, the comfortable pattern of hanging out turned into dating and sex and finally something much deeper. Then the offer from the National Museum of Women in the Arts came and she had to choose between the life she never believed she wanted and the one she spent years dreaming about.
“This time was for good.” She played with the coat button right at her stomach, sliding her fingers over the plastic until she accidentally twisted it off.
“You said that a year ago, then we kept dating. You said it again six months ago when you left Holloway. You wrote me a note that time explaining why. You even emailed to confirm I received it.” He cleared his throat. “Very organized of you, by the way.”
Admittedly, the email may have been overkill but she had to keep saying they were over or neither of them would believe it. Ten minutes together and they fell into old patterns of hanging out and laughing on the couch then finding a soft bed, which explained why she’d put a full state between them this time around. A woman couldn’t be too careful when it came to the one man who made her forget everything else.
“If you remember what happened between us and how we’re over and all, why are you here?” she asked.
“This is a lucrative spot for selling trees.”
He actually delivered the line with a straight face. Carrie rolled her eyes anyway.
“You’re trying to tell me you schlepped all the trees and equipment from the farm for a few extra bucks?” When he tried to talk over her, she held up a finger. “That you walked away from the nursery and your work, and just so happened to end up in the lot across from my apartment.”
He smiled until the dimple she loved so much appeared in his cheek. “Uh, how about I say yes and leave it at that.”
“No.” She waved her finger at him this time. “That whole adorable thing you do, with your head falling to the side while you flash me a big smile and rock back on your heels, isn’t going to work this time.”
If possible, he got even cuter. “I can live with that since we’ve established you still think I’m hot.”
“I said adorable.”
“I’m pretty sure I heard the word hot.”
He somehow managed to be hot and adorable and totally infuriating. He reminded her of the simple things she enjoyed in life, like fresh lemonade in summer and diving into the frigid lake at the first sign of spring. Like snowball fights and sipping hot chocolate while sitting with her feet on his lap and watching football, which usually included screaming at the television.
Loving him, enjoying time with him, getting all hot for him—those had never been a problem. But shifting into adulthood and balancing what she wanted to achieve with how hard he fought to keep everything the same had proven impossible until walking away became her only option.
“What you’re not hearing, Austin, is the ‘we’re over’ theme.”
He exhaled in that my-life-is-so-difficult way men locked in verbal battle with women did so well. “Because you want to live and work here instead of back home?”
“In part.”
“What’s the rest?”
To figure out who she was separate from him and the safety of the life she’d always known. To follow her dream of working in a big museum instead of a small regional one. To keep from looking back with regret five, ten or twenty years from now. To keep from seeing the regret and pain that danced in her mother’s eyes mirrored in her own one day.
The list exhausted her. “Haven’t we been through this?”
“You said I didn’t appreciate your career.”
That argument had gone on for two days, so she was sure she’d said more than that. “Talk about selective memory.”
“Do you still love me?”
He didn’t move but his presence closed in around her. This was what always happened. Her feelings for him overwhelmed her resolve and next thing she knew she was doubting her choices and looking at her clothes scattered all over the floor. She’d never been a slave to her hormones. She’d walked away from a guy in college who cheated on her and went a year without any physical contact when no one interested her. But something about Austin weakened her resolve to the point of breaking. She’d once tricked her brain into thinking she could enjoy sleeping with him while keeping a wall of protection around her heart. Now she knew better.
This time he physically moved. A hand brushed over her arm as he stepped in closer. “Well, Carrie. Do you?”
“How I feel about you isn’t really the point.” And her weakness for him wasn’t a question. She had to push him out of her memory to survive the days without him.
He treated her to a half snort, half guffaw sort of thing. “Uh, yeah. It is. It’s all that matters.”
He was a good man and determined enough to wait her out. He’d all but told her that when she walked away six months ago. She didn’t want to hurt him and being close to him all but guaranteed that. “Go home, Austin.”
“I’m good here.”
She slipped around him, heading for the coffee she now needed in an extra-large size. A stray thought had her turning back to face him. “Where are you staying while you’re in town?”
“You offering me your bed?”
“No.”
“Couch?”
“Still no.”
He shrugged. “I won’t take it personally.”
“Austin—”
He waved a hand in the air. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
Carrie ignored the non-answer and got back to walking. She made it the whole way across the street without looking back. The heat of his stare burned into her back, but she shoved her hands in her pockets and kept going. As she rounded her building and ducked out of sight, her mind crashed and her steps faltered. She slammed her back against the brick wall on the far side of the complex and forced her brain to focus.
This can’t be happening. A sharp breath rushed out of her, taking the last of her energy with it.
“I can’t do this again,” she whispered, ignoring the worried stares of two older women as they passed.
She had bigger problems than looking like a crazy person. She depended on the distance from Austin to stay strong in her resolve. He hadn’t contacted her since the initial flurry right after she’d left Holloway. Every day she resisted calling his home number during work hours just to hear the sound of his voice on the answering machine. But the potency of the live version of Austin crashed through her control.
She wanted him to change, to want her back without quietly pushing her to give up her dreams. She didn’t want to be charmed and she definitely didn’t want to love him. Now she had to figure out how to make her heart listen.
Chapter Two
They’d made contact. Yeah, Carrie was half yelling at the time, but Austin still considered it progress of sorts.
“That went well.” Spence shut the door to the makeshift office and joined his brother in watching Carrie practically run from the lot.
“It’s a start.”
“Were we listening to the same conversation?”
Austin tore his gaze away from her ass and tugged his gloves back on. He’d waited months to see her again. He could hold out a few more days to touch her. “She thinks I don’t appreciate the things she cares about.”
“Whatever that means.”
Spence could identify plant species, had handpicked every choice in their hothouses and on the sales floor, and could classify every tree on the three hundred acres they owned along with their father. But women? Not his area of expertise.
Since the broth
ers lived together on the top two floors of the farmhouse in Holloway whose bottom floor served as the business office for Thomas Nurseries, Austin had a front-row seat to the parade of women Spence slept with then showed the door. The guy didn’t do commitment. He barely did overnights.
Austin tried to explain his position anyway. “Carrie is big on the boyfriend support thing.”
“Aren’t all women?”
The man had a point. “I guess that’s why you run away from them so fast.”
A sea of red crept up Spence’s neck to his cheeks. “When did we start talking about my love life?”
That topic needed months of dissecting and a therapist. Austin wasn’t touching it. “My point is I know Carrie’s issues and can handle them.”
Spence snorted as he dropped down on the step to the office. “Since she’s living here and you’re living two hours away, you might want to work on the way you handle things.”
“And since one of us actually needs to work so we can sell trees and make money, can you hand me that?” Austin pointed to the pocket knife on the ground next to Spence’s foot.
“I have a job. Landscaping, running a family business.” He kicked the closed knife in Austin’s direction. “Any of this sound familiar?”
“Mitch is handling everything back home with the business while I take care of my problem with his sister here.”
“And you think I don’t get women.” Spence muttered something about idiots.
“Meaning?”
“You have more than a problem with Carrie. You have a full-blown disaster.”
As Carrie’s brother, Mitch was the one member of the Anders family Austin could read and depend on not to pack up the car and run. When Mitch had let it slip his sister might be dating as part of her new city life, fury had burned through Austin. He’d almost ripped down the trees on the back ten of their property with his bare hands.
It's Not Christmas Without You (The Holloway Series) Page 1
