A Little Bit of Holiday Magic

by Melissa McClone

  “Then don’t,” Bill said matter-of-factly. “Enjoy Christmas and seven days of hot kisses with me.”

  The microwave timer buzzed. Grace removed the plate, grabbed a fork from the drawer and a napkin from the counter. She placed the items on the breakfast bar. “We’ll stay for Christmas, but I can’t...”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Same difference.”

  “Not the same at all.” He stood in front of her, his gaze intense and pointed. “I knew you were lots of things, Grace, but I never thought you’d be afraid.”

  She flinched. “What do you think I’m afraid of?”

  “I have no idea, but I know fear when I see it.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She motioned to the plate of steaming food. “Eat.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve lost my appetite.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m going to bed. I’m working tomorrow, so I won’t see you until Saturday.”

  Bill walked out of the kitchen without a glance back.

  The house creaked. The wind howled. Grace shivered.

  What did she have to be afraid of? She’d lost her husband. Her truck had been totaled. Except for Liam she didn’t have anything else left to lose.

  Well, except maybe her heart.

  Not that Bill wanted her heart, only her...kisses.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  AT 8:06 SATURDAY morning, Bill exited the station. The cold temperature stung his lungs. His boots crunched on the parking lot’s snow. His gaze shot to Hood’s summit.

  Heading straight for Timberline sounded like his smartest move. Physical exertion on the climb up and the rush of adrenaline skiing down would help him forget.

  Forget about Grace. Forget she didn’t want him. Forget the feeling of helplessness of knowing nothing he did or said would change the way she felt.

  I can’t.

  The two words stabbed at Bill. She would never be his. Disappointment weighed heavily. So did regret. He’d said similar words to women wanting to tame and domesticate him.

  I can’t date exclusively. I can’t make a commitment. I can’t be a family man.

  His own words hammered his head and his heart. His dad couldn’t seem to be a family man, but did that mean Bill should accept the same fate without at least trying? Maybe he could do more if he took baby steps.

  Not that Grace would care if he tried.

  A hero is a hero. It’s in your DNA.

  Bitterness coated Bill’s mouth. Most women wanted to go out with firefighters because of their jobs. But Grace made wanting to help others sound like a vice, not a virtue.

  He jumped into his truck.

  Bill needed to wipe her from his memory bank. There were plenty of other women who wanted to date him. Why worry about the one who didn’t? One who would be leaving him behind.

  He turned on his left blinker, then remembered the envelope in his pocket.

  Damn, Thomas.

  Leanne had stopped by the station and asked him to make a “special” delivery. He thought the gesture was, well, misguided. But she was the bride, and he would do this for her.

  A few minutes later he stood on his porch, eager to dart into the house, make his delivery, then escape. He opened the door.

  Grace sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. She jumped, toppling a tower of blocks in the process. Colorful pieces flew across the room.

  Liam leaped to his feet and ran, dragging Peanut. “Bill...!”

  He closed the door, then swooped the boy into the air. “Good morning, little dude.”

  Grace remained on the floor, surrounded by blocks and other toys. She wore a pair of black track pants and a U.S. Army sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had no makeup on her face. But she looked...beautiful. Too bad her lips were pressed together and her forehead wrinkled.

  Bill’s chest muscles tightened into a thousand tiny knots. He hated the anxious expression on her face.

  Liam hugged him tightly. “Peanut missed you.”

  “I missed Peanut, too.” Bill kissed the elephant, then looked back at Grace. Like it or not, he’d missed her, too. “Good morning.”

  The lines around her mouth deepened. “Hey.”

  He handed her the envelope. “This is for you.”

  She opened the flap and removed an ivory card with a vellum covering. “A wedding invitation?”

  “Short notice, since Leanne and Christian are saying I do this afternoon, but they want you to attend.” He set Liam on his feet and motioned to the blocks on the floor. Liam picked them up. “She would have delivered the invitation herself, but she’s a little busy.”

  Grace reread the invitation. She didn’t sound upset, more...amused. “Well, she is getting married.”

  “You’ll go?”

  Her gaze met his, her expression an unsettling mixture of worry and hope. “Liam.”

  “They’ve hired babysitters, so you’re covered.”

  “I...”

  Her hesitation hooked his heart, reeling him in. Forget skiing. He didn’t need to be slogging up a glacier or speeding down one. The only place he wanted to be was with Grace and Liam. “The reception is being held at the community center, which has a preschool. The kids will hang out and eat popcorn and pizza.”

  Liam grinned. “Pizza. Pizza.”

  Her son’s enthusiasm didn’t seem to sway Grace. Bill would try to convince her. He didn’t want to leave them, but staying home wasn’t an option.

  “Pizza’s always good.” He wanted to wipe the turmoil from Grace’s eyes and put a big smile on her face. “The little dude’s been stuck with adults since you got to Hood Hamlet. He needs playtime with other kids.”

  “Kids. Kids.” Liam danced in a circle, waving his arms, wiggling his hips and kicking his feet. “I want to play with kids.”

  “Go, have fun, let loose. Thad will be there. Carly and Zoe, too.” Grace couldn’t say yes to more kisses, but maybe Bill could get her to say yes to the wedding. “Leanne appreciated your help the other day. She said there’s no reason for you to be sitting home on a Saturday night when they have plenty of room, food and wine. Not to mention chocolates.”

  Grace reread the invitation. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Leanne told me if you said no I’m supposed to kidnap you and bring you, anyway.”

  Grace’s startled gaze flew to his. “She did not.”

  “She did. I’ll do it, so you might as well say yes.”

  Liam crawled under the coffee table to reach the remaining blocks.

  “Leanne and Christian want me there?” The uncertainty in Grace’s voice matched the doubt in her eyes.

  Oh, hell. Bill wanted to hold her. Hug her. Make her know she had friends in Hood Hamlet, a community, a home.

  “They do.” He might not get any more kisses. In less than a week she would be gone. But they had tonight to laugh, eat, drink and dance. One night for the two of them. And a hundred other wedding guests. “I want you to go, too. With me.”

  “Go, Mommy, go.” Liam climbed out from under the table. “We’ll have fun.”

  “O-kay.” She didn’t sound as excited as her son, but she hadn’t said no. “I’m going to have to find something to wear. My dresses aren’t suitable for this weather.”

  “Let’s go shopping.” The words exploded from Bill’s mouth like steam blasts from a volcano. He couldn’t wait to see her in a clingy, sexy dress and heels. “There’s a mall down the mountain.”

  Grace eyed him warily. “You want to go to the mall on the Saturday before Christmas to look at dresses? Do you want them to take away your man card?”

  “My man card is safe. I’m always up for an adventure.”

  “The mall will
be crazy.”

  “Crazy fun,” Bill countered. “Santa’s Workshop is there. What’s Christmas without talking to the old guy in red?”

  Liam jumped across the room like a kangaroo and pointed out the window to the figure in the yard. “Santa.”

  Bill grinned. “The decision has been made. Grab your coats and let’s go.”

  * * *

  A high school choir belted out Christmas carols near the mall’s forty-foot, decked out tree. The chorus from “All I Want for Christmas” stuck in Bill’s head. All he wanted was to grab Grace and Liam by the hand, turn around and head back up the mountain.

  If only Santa and his workshop could be found in an authentic ski chalet.

  He hated how artificial everything looked. Overinflated, sparkly ornaments hung from the ceiling. Holiday sale notices plastered in every window and over every doorway begged for attention and customers. Automated holiday characters greeted shoppers, telling them to pick up their reward card at the mall info kiosk. Not that anyone rushing from store to store, juggling shopping bags, listened or noticed.

  What had he been thinking, wanting to come here today?

  He hadn’t been thinking.

  That was his problem.

  Being around Grace short-circuited his brain.

  She held Liam’s hand.

  Bill ran interference in front of them. If that made him “heroic,” so be it. No one was going to bowl Grace and Liam over on his watch.

  “Ready to bolt?” she asked.

  “Nope.” Bill wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of being right. He touched his back pocket, where he kept his wallet. “Still there. That’s a relief.”

  Grace’s forehead creased. “What?”

  “My man card.” Joking might lighten his mood. He didn’t go shopping at Christmastime, not unless you counted Freeman’s General Store on Main Street and the gift shop at Timberline. “I thought someone might have taken it.”

  She beamed brighter than the shimmering snowman behind her left shoulder. “Remember, this was your idea.”

  “I take full responsibility for us being here. So where do you want to start?”

  Liam pointed at Santa’s Workshop, complete with fake snow, penguins, polar bears and North Pole sign. Inside the structure—built with unobstructed views on three sides to entice more children—the jolly old fellow sat on a huge leather chair, with a crying baby on his lap. “There’s Santa.”

  Grace sighed. “Look at the line.”

  The queue of fidgeting families zigzagged between roped candy cane poles.

  Coming today hadn’t been Bill’s best idea, but Liam was pulling Grace’s arm out of its socket, trying to get closer to Kris Kringle. The least Bill could do was get them out of this crazy place quicker. “Why don’t Liam and I wait in line to see Santa while you shop for a dress?”

  Liam nodded like a bobble-head doll.

  “You boys will do anything to get out of shopping,” Grace teased.

  Bill would much rather watch Grace try on dresses, preferably midthigh and strapless, with high-heeled, strappy shoes that showed off her toned legs. “I’m doing this for the little dude.”

  Liam pointed to himself. “That’s me.”

  “I rarely get a chance to shop on my own.” She glanced at the line, then back at her son. “Will you be good for Bill?”

  Liam nodded. “Always good for big dude.”

  “That’s true,” Grace admitted. “He listens to you better than he listens to me.”

  Bill stood taller. “I have the magic touch when it comes to kids.”

  “You do with Liam,” she agreed.

  As if on cue, tiny fingers laced with Bill’s larger ones.

  A protective instinct welled up inside him. He would do anything for the kid. No questions asked.

  Bill squeezed the small hand entwined with his. “Come on, Liam. Your mommy has serious shopping to do. You can figure out what you want for Christmas while we stand in line.”

  “I know what I want.” Liam’s voice sounded certain for an almost-four-year-old.

  Grace combed her fingers through his hair. “What, baby?”

  Liam shook his head. “I only tell Santa.”

  Bill would get it out of the kid. “When you finish shopping, meet us here.”

  She looked at the people snaking their way around Santa’s Workshop. “You’ll probably still be in line.”

  He nodded. “I’ll make it fun.” Somehow.

  “Santa.” The kid pulled on Bill’s hand. “Let’s go see Santa.”

  After a few steps, he glanced back. Grace wasn’t there. “So are you going to tell me what you want for Christmas, little dude?”

  “Nope.”

  “I thought we were buds.”

  “We are. But it’s a secret.”

  Bill could honor that. To a point. He would eavesdrop when the time came. He wanted to make this the perfect white Christmas for Liam and Grace. That meant finding them each the perfect present, even if he had to make a trip here tomorrow.

  The kids in front of them must not have been too greedy, because the line moved quickly. Many of the children were well behaved—careful not to mess up their party dresses or buttoned-down shirts with ties—but Bill wouldn’t trade any of them for Liam. His kid was as perfect as kids came.

  Not his, he corrected with a surprising regret.

  “Santa’s taking a break to feed the reindeer,” a squat elf with a Jersey accent announced.

  The kids cheered at the word reindeer. The adults groaned.

  With Santa out of sight, kids became impatient. Parents, too. Time dragged, like when waiting for high winds to die down so the ski lifts would reopen.

  Liam didn’t complain. He didn’t make a sound, but stood quietly with his hands at his sides and his gaze focused on Santa’s empty chair.

  Bill whipped out his cell phone, unlocked the screen and pulled up a game. “Play with this.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Santa returned, walking with a cane. The line moved again. Not quite quick as a wink, they reached the front of the line.

  Liam bounced from toe to toe, bursting with a sudden excitement. “Santa.”

  The kid’s wonder made Bill grin like a fool. If dealing with the glittery facade of Christmas at the mall was what it took to see such awe in Liam’s eyes, Bill was in. “We’re next.”

  The elf from Jersey, wearing a pointy hat, ears and shoes, greeted them. He handed Bill a sheet of paper full of portrait options and prices. “Welcome to Santa’s Workshop. What photo package do you want?”

  Bill glanced at the sheet, expecting to see a handful of choices, not twenty-three.

  The elf hovered, the scent of onions strong on his breath.

  Liam grabbed hold of Bill’s hand, inching closer with each passing second.

  “A7.” Not the most expensive one—no key chains—but the package had the most photographs and included two poses. Bill thought Grace would like more memories to hang on her walls.

  Walls in Astoria.

  He rubbed his temples to chase the impending headache away. Having a key chain to keep wouldn’t have been bad.

  “A7,” the elf yelled to another elf behind the camera. “Go up and tell Santa what you want for Christmas.”

  Liam released Bill’s hand, marched up the two steps and climbed on Santa’s lap with no hesitation.

  Brave for a three-year-old who had been frightened by the elf’s loud presence, but not surprising, given the strong woman raising the kid.

  “Ho, ho, ho.” Santa’s real beard was white and neatly trimmed. His blue eyes twinkled behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses low on the bridge of his nose. His top-of-the-line red suit had a wide black belt with a shiny gold buckle. His black boots sh
one, as if polished that morning. Impressive for a mall rent-a-Santa. “Tell me what you want for Christmas, young man.”

  Liam cupped his hands around his mouth, leaned closer and whispered into Santa’s ear.

  Bill stepped forward, but he still couldn’t hear.

  Damn. He hadn’t expected the kid to be so stealthy about his Christmas list.

  Santa tapped his finger against his pink cheek. “That’s a big request, Liam. Are you sure that’s all you want for Christmas?”

  Liam nodded. “Pos-i-tive.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Santa handed him a candy cane, then motioned to Bill. “Join us for a picture.”

  Another nod from Liam.

  No way would he disappoint his little dude. The package did come with two poses. “Sure thing.”

  Bill positioned himself next to the chair. He placed a hand on Liam’s shoulder.

  “Smile at the birdie,” the camera elf said.

  Bill did.

  Flash.

  The light blinded him, filling his vision with dancing spots. He blinked. Once. Twice. Okay, that was better.

  “What would you like for Christmas?”

  He glanced around, then looked at Santa. “Are you talking to me?”

  Santa smiled, the balls of his cheeks looking rosier. “Tell me what you want for Christmas.”

  Bill looked at Liam, who was examining a robotic polar bear. “I don’t want anything. I have everything I need.”

  Santa adjusted his glasses. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I bought new skis last month. I have more climbing gear than I could use in a lifetime. If there’s anything else I need, I don’t know what it could be.”

  “Search your heart.” Santa sounded like a self-help radio personality. “That’s how you’ll figure out not only what you want, but what you need.”

  “O-kay.” Bill tried to humor the old guy. Maybe Santa had been a psychologist and was now retired. “Later, Santa.”

  He walked toward Liam, who waited patiently for him by the exit.

  “Bill,” Santa called.

  How did the guy know his name? That was odd. Bill hadn’t told him. He glanced over his shoulder.