by Rene Penn
A blush bloomed in her cheeks.
Does that mean…?
She decided to go for it, to ask what she was thinking, and not worry about the repercussions. Now that she knew how his parents felt about her, she wanted to know what he thought.
“Does that mean you’re flirting now?” Jules asked.
He put a finger to his lips, and she noticed the chatter in the front row had stopped. Not an ideal time to answer a question about flirting, was it? Besides, her question would put pressure on him. And guys don’t like pressure during the holidays. Her track record with men had proved it. Why did she expect anything different with Bryan? Resigning herself to the truth, Jules slumped her shoulders and tuned into It’s a Wonderful Life.
Seconds later, a warm touch glided along her shoulder, Bryan brushed her hair aside and rested his hand on the back of her neck. He put a finger up to his lips again, then leaned in and kissed her.
His mouth met hers gently, softly, and their tongues danced slowly in silence. She'd imagined that kissing Bryan would send her core exploding like a grenade. But this resembled the swell of an ocean tide. A wave of warmth worked its way from the back of her throat, gaining strength as it approached her belly. By the time it reached her feet, the heat crested and rippled back up again, rising to her chest, like a ripple at the ocean's shore.
How could a kiss do that? Transport her from snowy Montana to the Pacific Coast? And make her believe that this Christmas could be different from all the others? Here she was, Julia Carmichael, the one who never had a guy around for Christmas. Maybe this Christmas, Santa had brought her what she wanted, after all.
◆◆◆
Bryan knew a kiss could change everything—and it did. It took everything in his power not to make out with Jules in the back of the theater room. Hormones bounced around in his body like a sex-crazed teen, and it took an hour for his brain to put the kibosh on his roaming thoughts. Shirley and Rose’s comments from the front row—“Isn’t James Stewart handsome?” and “They don’t make movies like this anymore”—made it easier to cool his loins, too.
When the movie ended, he wanted to cling to Jules like Saran wrap. But other guests distracted his attention, and he got a phone call from his buddy Jacob Lancaster.
Bryan stepped into the study near the living room. “Merry Christmas. How’s your day going?”
"Merry Christmas to you, too. Things are going well here. Really, really well."
Same here, Bryan thought. But the itch of excitement in Jason’s voice expressed that his day was even better.
“What’s going on, man?” Bryan asked.
“I bought an engagement ring last night for Nora.”
Bryan knew all about his friend’s rekindled flame and was happy to hear the news. “That’s great. You going to pop the question today, or did you do it already?”
“Not yet. I wanted to wait until we went on a trip somewhere. You know, propose while the sun’s setting over the horizon in Tuscany. Some super romantic shit like that.”
Bryan smiled. “I can totally see it. Do it. She’d love that.”
“I don’t know if I can.” Jacob exhaled. “I’ve got hot feet.”
“Hot feet?”
“Yeah, the opposite of cold feet. As in, I can’t wait to marry her. I want to propose like yesterday.”
Wow.
Bryan couldn't imagine how that felt. The idea of wanting to Saran-wrap himself to Jules was a leap of progress for him. Less than a week ago, he'd wanted to kill her at the holiday Christmas party. And after that, he’d resented her for manipulating him into an invitation to Montana. Now, he couldn’t imagine her not being here. And he had vivid thoughts of their kiss, her legs in that red sweater dress, that red-and-green bra…
But never mind that. For now.
“What are you going to do?” asked Bryan.
“Old Town Alexandria has fireworks on New Year’s Eve. I’m thinking of proposing then.”
“Not Tuscany. But it’ll work.”
Jacob laughed. "Could you be there to take pictures during the proposal? No offense, but you're one of the only guys I know that's single and could possibly duck out of your New Year's Eve plans for thirty minutes or so."
Jacob assumed right. Bryan had planned to bring in the new year at a friend's house party. He'd also planned to go alone. But now he wasn't so sure. Thinking of the kiss he'd shared with Jules, he wondered if she'd want to go with him, to be his date. He hadn't gone out with a woman on New Year's Eve in years, not since Kaitlyn. He hadn't allowed himself to get that close to someone. But with Jules—
Jacob interrupted Bryan’s thoughts. “If you can’t do it, I can ask—”
“No, no, it’s cool. I can do it. No problem.”
Bryan heard relief lighten Jacob's voice. "Thanks. I owe you. One less thing to worry about. Though I really only have one worry, that she'll say no."
"Nora's not going to say no," Bryan quipped. "She's your 'one.' Just don't screw anything up between now and then," he teased.
Jacob laughed again. “I’ll work on that.”
The word work made Bryan’s thoughts shift. “Before you go. Is your company looking to hire a marketing coordinator, by any chance?”
"I'm pretty clueless on any hiring that's not legal-related. But I can check and get back to you. I met a guy recently named Patrick Montgomery, who's super connected. I can put in a word with him, too."
“Cool. Thanks.”
“Is the marketing coordinator anybody I know?”
"I don't think so. It's Julia Carmichael."
“Nope. Don’t know. So, what’s the deal with her?”
Bryan knew what Jacob meant. His friend was fishing, and not for Jules’ resume information.
"She, uh…" Bryan rubbed the back of his head, then planted his hand at the waist. His typical stance while on a call. "It's complicated."
“Okay.”
Jacob wanted to know more. Nosy bastard. Bryan rattled off. “She used to work for me, but I had to lay her off because of budget cuts. I’m trying to help her out.”
“Oh,” Jacob said. “Why is that complicated? Sounds pretty straight-forward to me. Unless…” he trailed off and let out a light chuckle.
Bryan could tell Jacob’s mind had gone R-rated. “Nothing happened while we worked together.”
“Has something happened since?” Jacob snickered again.
Bryan grumbled. “This is why I shouldn’t have attorney friends.” Still, he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Fine, the defense rests. I had to yank your chain a little.”
Bryan knew why. He’d been a pretty private guy when it came to stuff about women. Besides that, he had nothing to tell. His life wasn’t any different than the normal bachelor, and no special woman had been around.
So why did Bryan want to ramble on about Jules?
He said, “Now that she’s not working for me, I see things…her…a little differently.”
“I.e., you like her.”
"Yeah. And, e.g., I kissed her."
“Well, well, well, merry freakin’ Christmas.” More snickering. “So now I turn the tables, my friend, and have to ask: What are you going to do?”
Bryan turned back toward the open door, giving him a partial view of the living room. Near the Christmas tree, Jules chatted with his mom. She gently held the younger woman's shoulder as they laughed together.
In a fevered rush, Bryan's mind ticked through a list of things that should happen before a woman meets his mom. There should be dates—lots of them. And kissing—lots of it. But Jules had skipped most of that. Unforeseen circumstances brought her here, to his hometown, to his family's cabin, laughing with his mother, as if they'd known each other for years.
Kaitlyn had known his family for two decades. Bryan had dated her, loved her, wanted to live with her, marry her. He did everything in the correct order during their relationship. By the book. And where did it get him? Nowhere but afraid to get serious with
another woman.
He needed to turn the page on the past with Kaitlyn. He had no feelings toward her anymore, seeing her yesterday had proved that. He needed to move on. This new year needed to be different, and he was ready.
Bryan gazed at Jules from the study, who remained oblivious to his watchful eye. The white Christmas lights on the tree flickered on and off in timed intervals. Her face and smile sparkled.
“I’m going to take her out,” he replied to Jacob. “I’m going to see what happens. And I’m not going to get in the way of it.”
◆◆◆
The group wanted to go sledding at a nearby neighborhood, another annual Christmas tradition. But jetlag followed Jules like a sidewalk shadow, and talking nonstop with these wonderful people had exacerbated her fatigue.
She needed a nap. Thirty hard minutes. Face-planted in a pillow upstairs. However, she had a serious case of FOMO, fear of missing out, and didn’t want to be a party pooper.
In the kitchen, Jules sat on a high-top chair at the island, while the others geared up for the cold outdoors. Paul walked past her toward the mudroom. He had an orange sled tucked under his arm. Tigger’s paws clicked softly on the floor behind him.
Kathy opened the oven door and peeked at the stuffed turkey inside. “Lookin’ good, birdie,” she said before closing the door. She glanced at Jules, who squeaked out a small yawn. “Sweetheart, you look tired.”
“I am. But I wanna go sledding.” Jules pouted her lips like a child.
"Me, too, kiddo. But duty calls." Kathy placed a delicious-looking ham in the double oven. "Why don't you stay behind and rest?"
“I should.”
Kathy grabbed a roll of foil, tore off a big sheet, and covered a green bean casserole. “It’ll just be you and me in the house once everybody leaves. You’ll be able to get a good nap.” She put the dish in the fridge and slid her apron off. “Whew. That’s it for now. I can get out of the kitchen for a bit. Put my feet up while the turkey and ham are in the oven.”
Jules thought of an idea, one that could give her even more brownie points with Kathy. “Is watching the turkey and ham the only reason you’re not going sledding?”
“Yep. I don’t have to start cooking again for a couple of hours.”
"Well, I can watch the oven while you go out with the others. I'll check on the food before and after my nap."
“Really?”
Jules waved a hand in the air. “Sure. It’ll be easy.”
“I haven’t gone sledding with them on Christmas in years. I guess I’m fickle when it comes to getting the dinner ready. But you know what?” Kathy looked at the oven then back at Jules. “I’ll take you up on that offer. Thank you.” Kathy smiled.
About that time, Paul walked up, and Kathy filled him in on their conversation. His eyes lit up. "That's nice of you. Thanks."
“It’s the least I can do.”
Which was true. But she could practically hear the sound of brownie points cha-chinging in the air like a casino. Perfect. All part of her master plan, to keep them liking her, which will catch Bryan’s attention, and get her closer to the girlfriend zone.
When she told Bryan her idea to stay behind, he protested a little. “I don’t have to go sledding, either, you know.”
Sexiness smoldered behind his eyes, and an image of a heavy make-out session with him came into her mind. But what good would the moment be if she could hardly keep her eyes open? No, she wanted to be engaged and alert during any fondling moments with Bryan Blakely.
“You go,” she insisted. “I’ll stay here.”
After he and the group left, the cabin's stillness wrapped itself around her. She went up to her room and sat on the bed. Wanting to look extra cute for the evening, she plugged in her curling and flat irons. She curled pieces of hair here and straightened sections of hair there…
“Oh, the food,” she muttered and went back downstairs to check on the oven.
The sight of roasting turkey and ham made Jules salivate, even though she was still full from lunch. She whiffed the delicious aroma and closed the oven doors. A seat at the breakfast nook called her. The quiet lulled her. And within seconds, the unthinkable happened.
She fell asleep.
Nine
“Hello?” a male voice boomed.
Jules jumped at the sound, her head bolting upright from where it rested on her arm. She squinted at the sunlight beaming through the large windows. Something damp dribbled down her chin. Drool.
No!
“Anybody home?” the voice called out again.
She wiped the drool away as large footsteps thumped from the mudroom toward the kitchen. And the owner of the voice appeared, grinning when he saw her. “Hello.”
OMG.
The voice came with a tall, handsome, six-foot-something hunk of man-candy with a voice as deep as a well, a face as chiseled as a granite statue, a bedhead of jet black hair, and a sparkling smile that could make a constellation jealous. His dark brown shearling coat sat over a set of broad shoulders, his fitted blue jeans accentuated legs the size of Greek columns, and he came bearing gifts. Several boxes of various sizes, all wrapped with bows.
Can this Christmas get any better?
“Who are you?” he smiled.
“Oh.”
Should she get up and shake his hand? Her legs scurried under the table because they weren’t in sync with her brain. She was too busy processing this mountain-man-meets-Outlander creation in front of her.
“Hi,” she waved. “I’m Jules. Julia. But you can call me Jules. Because that’s what everyone calls me.”
“Hi, Jules.” He walked over, shuffled the gifts under one burly arm, and extended his hand.
“I’m Ryan.”
Jules blinked, and her throat shriveled like a prune. "Ryan?"
A large palm grasped hers. “Ryan Blakely.” His hand lingered. “I’m Kathy and Paul’s son.”
Jules gasped softly and snatched her hand away. “You’re Bryan’s brother?”
“Yep.”
She couldn’t believe Bryan’s brother, his smoking, Montana-hot brother, was named Ryan. As in Ryan Gosling, Ryan Reynolds, and Ryan Phillipe. As in the Ryan that she’d wanted Santa to bring her for Christmas.
Ha-ha, Santa. Real damn funny.
“How do you know Bryan?” he asked. “Are you guys…” he trailed off, leaving her to fill in the blank.
“I…we…”
How should she answer? She couldn't say "girlfriend." Could she say "friend?" Do friends kiss each other in a dark theater room on Christmas?
“We used to work together,” she said.
He set the gifts down on the table and glanced toward the living room. “Where is everybody? I expected a house full.”
“They all went sledding. I, uh, stayed behind.”
“What are you doing in the dark?”
Dark? She couldn’t tell. All this man-candy had lit up the room like Times freaking Square. And hearing the name Ryan had sent her senses out of whack.
He flicked a nearby light switch, but nothing happened. She watched him walk to another switch. Nothing.
“Huh.” He stood with his back to her while she tried not to look at his butt. “The breaker might’ve tripped. I’ll be back.”
He disappeared from the kitchen. Heavy boots descended the stairs to the basement. Moments later, the kitchen lights came on, and a beep sounded from the oven.
The oven!
"Oh, no." She squealed, hopped from her chair, and scrambled over.
The turkey and ham didn't look much different than the last time she'd checked on them. Jules wasn't a chef, but she knew the turkey, especially, should've looked more cooked than this. The clock on the oven flashed, confirming that the power had gone out. She looked at her watch. Crap. An hour and a half had passed since she'd checked on the turkey.
Ryan returned to the kitchen. “Power went out.”
Hearing him say that made it that much worse. If she weren’t
in such shock, she’d be hyperventilating. But it was close enough when every organ in her body seemed to spasm. A small squeak slipped from her mouth.
Not noticing her internal meltdown, Ryan said, “It does that when the breaker’s overloaded. Sometimes if there are too many things plugged in upstairs and a bunch of stuff on downstairs…Or the Christmas tree could’ve done it.”
Or it could’ve been her curling iron and flat iron and cell phone and Kindle and laptop that Jules had left plugged in upstairs.
Her throat clenched as she set the oven clock and punched the oven temperature button back up to 325 degrees. “Yeah. Maybe.”
When she turned back to him, her face must’ve said it all. She didn’t need a mirror to imagine herself. Cheeks flushed with angst, lower lip quivering, nostrils quivering even more. The makings of a woman panicked with guilt.
The grin on Ryan’s face disappeared. “You okay?”
No, she wasn't. She hadn't drawn breath since she saw that pale turkey in the oven.
“I think I overloaded the breaker. I practically have a section of Best Buy plugged in upstairs.” She wrung her hands like a wet dish towel and spewed out words. “I-I came downstairs to check on the food. And then I sat down over there. And I must’ve—” She flailed a hand. “I must’ve fallen asleep.” What was she thinking? She, of all people. She, who slept like a coffined vampire, knew better. "And now, I've ruined Christmas dinner. Kathy trusted me to watch the turkey and ham. I offered so she could go sledding. She trusted me."
"Okay, Jules. Easy now." He sat her down in a chair and knelt to her eye level.
“You don’t understand. This is terrible. I’m not even supposed to be here. I should be home alone right now.”
Ryan’s eyes softened, and his amazing lips drew into a line of concern.
Jules said, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m a horrible person. I talked your brother into letting me come here. I crashed the Blakely Christmas. Everyone’s been so nice to me, and look what I’ve done.” Another squeak.
"We’ll figure something out.”
"I wanted to impress everyone." She surprised herself at her confession. "Great first impression, huh?"
