Baby, Let It Snow: I'll Be Home for ChristmasSecond Chance Christmas

by Beverly Jenkins

  “Love you more. And whatever happens out here, make sure you call and let me and your mother know.”

  “Promise.”

  She stepped out of the truck and the wind grabbed the door. She slammed it closed and hurried through the storm to the doors. Once inside she let out a breath of relief and brushed the flakes off her leather bomber. She opted not to check her suitcase. If the flight cancelled she didn’t want her luggage to be elsewhere.

  She loved the new airport with its wealth of eateries, tram and logical layout. She looked up at the flight board. According to the display, her flight was still on time so she set off for the gate.

  There were only a few people there when she arrived. She chose a seat by one of the large windows and sat while the storm raged outside. An hour later most of the empty seats were occupied. The two female attendants behind the small podium were busy handling their preflight duties. Their actions gave Dina hope that her flight would be a reality.

  Ten minutes later one of the women picked up the mic and announced that not only had their flight been cancelled, but that the airport was closing down as well due to the weather. No flights would be coming in or out until further notice. Dina immediately gathered up her belongings and headed to the tram for the ride to the on-site hotel.

  Apparently she wasn’t the only one with that idea. The line to the hotel’s entrance was so long, she knew there’d be no rooms left by the time she reached the desk. An airport employee explained to those at the back of line, like Dina, that there would be cots available to sleep on and gave them the location of the areas where they would be. Dina had no desire to sleep on a cot, so she swallowed her pride and called Morgan.

  He was in the middle of a production meeting when he answered her knock on the door of his suite. “Come on in.”

  Seeing the people eyeing her speculatively, she apologized. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “Don’t worry about it, we were just wrapping up. Want you to meet some people.”

  Feeling slightly self-conscious, she stood beside him as he introduced her to the four people seated on the sofa and chairs. They all nodded greetings and made small talk about the rotten weather, but didn’t seem particularly phased by her appearance. The lone exception was his director, Karen Gillespie. She had a look on her young face that radiated displeasure. Dina noted it and ignored it all at the same time. “I’ll take a seat and let you all finish. Nice meeting you.”

  The group talked for a few more minutes before gathering up their files and papers and heading to the door. Karen was the only person who stayed behind. “So, we still having dinner this evening?”

  Seated near a window, Dina turned her attention from the wind-whipped snow and said, “Morgan, you don’t need to babysit me. I’ll be fine here.”

  He studied her with a serious face. “You’re welcome to come.”

  His answer made her wonder if he’d meant his reply to be a double entendre. There was nothing provocative in his eyes but she knew that didn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t. “No, I gave the desk my credit card to cover expenses. I’ll just order some room service and chill. Show me where I can stash my stuff and you can go have your dinner.”

  Looking past the hot-eyed Karen, she followed him into one of the suite’s bedrooms. Because she didn’t see any of his stuff lying around she assumed this was not the room he was using.

  “You have a bathroom through there.”

  “Thanks for taking me in.”

  “Anytime.”

  He didn’t move and she couldn’t look away. She finally broke the contact. “You shouldn’t keep Karen waiting.”

  “Oh, right. You sure you don’t want to come along?”

  She smiled. “And have that girl glaring at me the whole time? No, you go on ahead.” Karen was acting so territorial Dina wondered if they were sleeping together, but refused to dwell on it. It wasn’t something she needed to know.

  “I’ve never slept with her.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

  “I know, but I don’t want you wondering. I’ve hurt you enough.”

  Dina was still so much in love with him the power of it made her ache. “Go have dinner,” she said softly. “I’ll see you later.”

  He looked away for a moment as if frustrated, but finally nodded. “Okay.”

  When Dina heard the outer door close, she sat down on the bed with a sigh. I’ve hurt you enough. Over the past week, he’d done much so to heal her hurts. Not with the lovemaking but with his honesty. Internally, he’d grown up. Of course, she could be in denial and seeing only what she wanted to in order to justify welcoming him back into her life, but family members had seen the same maturity and that meant something. She found herself wanting to know this new-and-improved boy next door. She wanted to see his school and the kids. She wanted to hear him talk about the investments he’d made and why. Dina realized she’d been fighting reconciliation with the old version of himself but that wasn’t who he was anymore. I will love you as long as I’m breathing. Rarely did real life give couples the fictional happily ever after; there would always be disagreements and misunderstandings, but with their history she sensed they’d be able to work them out. She got up and walked over to the bedroom window and opened the drapes. It was still snowing and nearly dark. In the back of her mind there were still reservations, but she refused to let them rise or change her course. She wanted him back.

  Morgan’s dinner with Karen was in the hotel restaurant. Because of all the flight cancellations the place was packed, but they had reservations so were not forced to wait to be seated. While they looked over the menu, Karen asked, “You and Ms. Broadway back together?”

  He searched her face. “Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “We’ll see.” He went back to his menu.

  “How come you and I never kicked it?”

  “You’re my director, Karen. Never have sex where you work, makes things complicated.”

  “But I’m not your director full-time anymore. This is a special we’re working on.”

  He sighed. “Doesn’t matter. So, let’s just change the subject.”

  Morgan saw his producer Don walking their way. He looked upset.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Two of the contestants are stranded in Chicago. We’ll have to cancel the shoot.”

  Morgan sighed. “I was hoping we’d not have to. How’s Eunique taking it?”

  “Not well. Says since she’s the only one who flew in early, she should be compensated. I need you to talk to her.”

  “Are you going to give her the money?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then you need to tell her that.”

  “But—”

  Don was a young kid from Iowa and it was obvious from what Morgan had seen that he was scared to death of Eunique.

  Karen said, “And here’s your chance. She just walked in.”

  And the fury on her face was plain.

  She pushed Don out of the way. “Tell them to pay me, Morgan.”

  “Eunique, lower your voice.”

  “The hell I will!”

  The other diners were staring.

  She leaned close and gritted out, “I agreed to lower my standards to participate in this tawdry little affair and the least you can do is compensate me for my time and trouble.”

  “You agreed because you can’t get work anywhere else,” Morgan countered, “so take that attitude somewhere else.”

  Her eyes widened. “How dare you! I gave you your first real job.”

  “Yes, you did. And?”

  The maître d’ walked up. “Is there a problem?”

  Morgan eyed Eunique. “Is there? I can have him call security.”

  She looked between the forces lined up against her and told Morgan, “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

  “Not me. He’s the one who hired you.”

  Don’s eyes widened.

  She glare
d at Don, threw her wrap back in place and stormed out.

  In the silence, Morgan looked at the beet-red Don. “You wanted her drama. Hope you’re happy.” That said, he got up and walked out of the buzzing restaurant.

  Morgan returned to his suite and dropped wearily into the nearest chair. For a moment he was so caught up in Eunique’s craziness that he didn’t see Dina curled up in a chair by an elegantly set table complete with white table cloth, lit tapers, china and crystal. When he did, he stilled.

  “Hey, you,” she called softly.

  His heart started to pound.

  “How was dinner?” she queried.

  “I didn’t get any.” He could smell the scent of her perfume in the air mingling with the faint remnants of steam from the shower. When she stood up, she was wearing one of his shirts. She rounded the table and walked toward him. Her legs and feet were bare, giving the impression that she had very little on underneath. He hardened instantly. “Are you torturing me on purpose?”

  She responded by straddling him with the elegance of a courtesan and gently lowering herself onto his lap. The feel of her soft weight made his senses groan.

  “Maybe…”

  And then she kissed him. He pulled her closer. He didn’t care what kind of game she was playing as long as he could participate. His hands discovered that she was indeed nude, arousingly so, so he took free rein and leisurely explored the warm skin.

  She slowly undid the buttons on her shirt. “If you haven’t eaten, you must be hungry.”

  He wasn’t sure what excited him more: the dark-tipped breasts or the smoldering eyes. “And you call me outrageous.”

  She offered him erotic sustenance and he fed with a sensual gusto that made her moan. Once the nipples were tight enough for his approval, he used his fingers to keep them that way and whispered against her ear, “I thought you needed time to think.”

  “I did.” She raised herself for a moment to open his belt. He moved her hands away because she wasn’t quick enough for his towering need. When he was ready, she impaled herself so slowly he thought he might die.

  “Goodness, woman.”

  “Like this?”

  He rocked her back and forth. There were no words for how much. If her reactions were any indication, she had none, either, so he set out to increase the pleasure for them both.

  Three orgasms later, they both cried no mas and Morgan wondered if he’d ever walk again.

  They dragged their love-wearied bodies into the shower, where another passionate round of lovemaking took place under the hot sprays of the multiple showerheads. Finally sated, they dressed themselves in the hotel’s soft robes and returned to the table. The food was cold, of course, but a few quick minutes in the microwave remedied that problem.

  “You must’ve done some serious thinking while I was away,” he said, toasting her with his wine goblet. The echoes of their lovemaking continued inside.

  “I did, and I came to the conclusion that I want to be in your life, and I hope you still want me in yours?”

  “Hallelujah!”

  “I take it that’s a yes?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Morgan wondered if she knew she’d made him the happiest man in the world.

  The airport stayed closed for another twenty-four hours so they took advantage of the time together to make love, eat, shower, make more love, eat and make more love. They also managed to talk now and again about her flying out to Oakland to check out the property where he planned to build a home and about her adoption plans. By the time Dina got dressed for the final time the expensive suite looked like a tornado had blown through. Plates, clothing, glasses, wine bottles and the like were strewn everywhere. They hadn’t let anyone inside but room service because they hadn’t wanted to be interrupted.

  Her flight was due to take off in an hour, so the time had come for them to part. Her arms were wrapped around his waist and she looked up at him with all the love she felt inside. “I’ll shoot you a text as soon as I touch down.”

  “You’d better, and I’ll do the same when I get to Oakland.”

  He would be leaving in an hour, as well. “I’m already missing you.”

  “Same here, so let me go before we start taking off clothes again and miss our flights.”

  They shared a kiss that was filled with the past, the present and the joys of the future to come. It ended with reluctance on both their parts. He traced her lips. “I love you, Dina.”

  “I love you, too, Morgan.”

  He walked her to the door, they stole another lingering kiss and then she and her rolling suitcase set out for the elevator.

  Chapter 11

  Arthur met her at LaGuardia with his driver. Once her luggage was stowed they began the ride back to her apartment in Manhattan.

  “Have a good time?” he asked.

  “I did.”

  “You and Morgan back together, I take it?”

  She studied him questioningly, “How’d you know?”

  “You’re glowing.”

  She grinned and looked down at her lap. “That obvious?”

  He nodded. Reaching over, he patted her hand. “It’s quite alright. I knew this would happen eventually.”

  “Did you? How?”

  “He’s the only man you’ve ever loved.”

  He was correct. “I’m sorry, Arthur.”

  “No apologies needed. I’d resigned myself to being just a friend.”

  “Will it help if I tell you you were right about him changing himself for me?”

  “Not really, but I’m glad you’re happy.”

  She hooked her arm in his and placed her head on his shoulder. “I am. Very much.” She looked up at him, “I’d like for us to remain friends if that’s possible.”

  “I suppose.” He smiled.

  “Somewhere in the world is a woman just for you.”

  “We’ll see.”

  For the next two weeks, Dina threw herself back into her work and when she wasn’t onstage she was on the phone with Morgan. She invited him to spend Christmas with her and when he agreed she was as happy as kid who knew that her parents had gotten her exactly what she’d asked for.

  Christmas Eve, Morgan was seated in the audience of the darkened theater watching the woman he loved do her thing. The last act had ended and the audience was on their feet giving the cast a thunderous round of applause. Morgan was, as well. Unlike them, however, he was moving to the stage. He’d cleared his intentions with Maureen, Dina’s agent and the play’s director, so when he approached the stage everyone grew quiet.

  When Dina saw Morgan standing at the foot of the stage, she was taken aback. She was ecstatic that he’d made it in time for Christmas but they were supposed to be meeting up at her apartment. He walked up the stairs to her and when he went down on one knee, she could hear gasps of surprise. He held out a small black ring box. “Will you marry me, Dina?”

  The unexpected surprise filled her eyes and her throat with tears. She didn’t hesitate, though. “Yes!”

  The audience erupted, he took her in his arms and she felt as if she’d just won the award for best performance by a woman in love.

  He said to her, “I’m going to love you forever, just so you know.”

  She looked up at the man she’d loved most of her life. “And I plan on doing the same.”

  SECOND CHANCE CHRISTMAS

  Elaine Overton

  Books by Elaine Overton

  Kimani Romance

  Fever

  Daring Devotion

  His Holiday Bride

  Seducing the Matchmaker

  Sugar Rush

  His Perfect Match

  Miami Attraction

  Rhythms of Love with Beverly Jenkins

  Baby, Let It Snow with Beverly Jenkins

  ELAINE OVERTON

  currently resides in the Detroit area. She has written twelve books and anthologies for BET Books and Kimani Press. She is an administrative assistant, currently working for an automotive
industry supplier. She loves hearing from readers, so feel free to contact her by visiting her website at www.elaineoverton.net.

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoy getting to know Robert and Diana. There is something about bed-and-breakfast inns that I have always liked. Probably has something to do with the cozy factor, that personal touch you just can’t get in a big hotel. And I have tried to convey the beauty of northern Michigan—even in brutal winter, it’s gorgeous.

  I have thoroughly enjoyed bringing you this story of second chances and forgiveness, and hope I have been able to convey the message that if it is meant to be, love will find its way home.

  I look forward to hearing your comments, so feel free to write me at www.elaineoverton.net.

  Elaine

  To Beverly Jenkins

  “Kindness, like a boomerang, always returns.”

  ~Author Unknown

  Your generosity of heart is both humbling and

  inspiring, and I know that God blesses you for it.

  Thank you, again.

  To Karen White-Owens

  Thank you for your sympathetic ear, for telling me the

  truth even when I don’t want to hear it and for setting

  such an excellent example of organized writing.

  I can appreciate it, even if I can’t imitate it.

  Prologue

  Robert Fenton turned onto the gravel road leading to the entrance of the La Bohemia Winery and B&B in Traverse City, Michigan and pulled his Jaguar to a stop just before driving beneath the iron arched overhang that announced the resort name.

  Turning off the ignition, he stepped out just as a gust of the northern wind he remembered so well came rushing by, sending a chill down his spine. For a brief moment Robert wondered—was it really the wind that chilled him or something far more sinister?

  He stood looking out over the acres and acres of snow-covered vines that in the heart of summer were typically covered in lush green leaves and plump, juicy, award-winning grapes. To the untrained eye the large, elegant country house that stood on a hill in the distance would look like something straight off the cover of a Christmas card. It was so peaceful and welcoming, but Robert knew better. Because he remembered the monster who had once lived there. He remembered only too well.