by Leslie Kelly
Just because they were different people—because they’d grown, matured, even changed—didn’t mean they weren’t still right for each other. Or did it?
They had a day in a car to look forward to. A day to explore all the unanswered questions, to get to know each other again. And to decide where this was going.
But what if the more time they spent together, the more obvious it was that they really couldn’t ever go back—couldn’t revive a love that had been allowed to languish for seven years. No matter how much they might want to.
It broke her heart to even consider it. So she forced those dark thoughts away.
They thanked the innkeeper again, and then loaded their things in the car and got under way. As the man had said, the roads weren’t bad. More cars were out today than there had been last night, and she imagined they weren’t the only ones trying desperately to get somewhere for Christmas.
“How much farther do we have to go?” she asked once they were on the highway, making pretty decent time.
“We made it about three-hundred miles last night, so we have about another five hundred to go.”
“That doesn’t sound too terrible.”
“If we can keep up this fifty-miles-an-hour clip, we should make it home to Chicago by midevening.” He cast her a quick, comforting glance. “You should be there for that midnight eggnog toast with your family after all.”
She smiled but didn’t reply. Because, rather than rejoicing over that, she began to feel queasy.
Getting home to Chicago for Christmas had been the objective, so why did their likely success suddenly depress her?
Maybe it was because she still hadn’t shaken this fear that whatever they had, whatever they were doing, it might not last after this trip. Yes, they were still wildly attracted to each other. Yes, the sex was absofreakinglutely amazing. But Rafe would want to go home to his family, and she would go to hers. They would thank each other, wish each other a merry Christmas...and...what?
Rafe would be home for a couple of weeks and would then leave for a year in Georgia. He hadn’t wanted her to wait the last time—would he ask her to now? No, he wasn’t flying off to spend years in a military zone, but Rafe was so bloody noble. He might decide that he needed to be completely free of all other obligations before he allowed himself to seriously consider a future with anyone. He might demand one more year, or insist she take it.
Or he might not want her at all. He might be too benumbed by war to let his guard down enough to let anyone back into his heart. And maybe she was too frightened to let him back into hers.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it as they drove, but she did manage to put on a happy face. Twice, after asking if she was okay with it, Rafe had stopped on the highway and gotten out to help dig out a complete stranger’s car. Twice her heart had melted just a little bit more as she realized that chivalrous streak was alive and well within him.
In the lighter snowfalls, when he didn’t have to concentrate quite as much, they spent hours chatting lightly, mostly about family—his future niece or nephew, her relationship with Denny, Jessie and their baby. She told him about her younger sister, just a middle schooler when Rafe had left, who’d graduated from college last summer. He’d shaken his head, appearing dismayed that so much of the world had rolled on without him.
They also started talking about holidays past, and even shared their wish lists for this one. His was especially telling, including such things as a bed with no sand in it, a clock missing the 4:00 a.m. setting and a Cubs ball cap. Hers started with world peace and ended with a pair of Jimmy Choo slingbacks. She supposed his was more realistic.
Whatever changes his military experience might have wrought in him, Rafe had kept his sense of humor, and he had her laughing more than once as he talked about some of the crazy Santori family traditions he’d be walking into later tonight.
“Are you serious? There really is a feast of the seven fishes, and your family does it every year?”
“Yeah. Including smelts. Oh, God, I hate smelts. I remember as a kid I used to sneak mine onto Leo’s plate.”
She giggled, picturing him as a little boy.
“Tonight, one of my cousins’ girlfriends—or maybe my brother’s fiancée, who I haven’t met—will show up with a meat-and-cheese platter. My mother will thank them and then secretly stash all the salami or pepperoni in the fridge for tomorrow.”
“No meat on Christmas Eve,” she said. “Got it.”
As the miles flew by and they continued to talk, Ellie found herself falling further and further under Rafe’s spell. She’d been stressing last night over whether he had changed beyond recognition, whether he was still the man she’d fallen in love with, only to find he was far more than that. Yes, he was sometimes hit with moments of sadness when something she mentioned struck a nerve—always something about the war, or the friends he’d lost in it. But he was also by turns funny and charming, or deep and introspective. A fully matured man, with so many facets she hadn’t seen—or had been too young to recognize—in the past.
He was, in short, even more wonderful than he’d been before.
And even though just twenty-four hours ago she’d believed she would never see Rafe again, now the love she’d always borne for him had welled up within her like a tidal wave, engulfing her to the point where she could barely breathe.
She could no longer hide the truth from herself, or pretend there was any chance he’d changed into someone she could no longer love. There was no protecting herself from this.
She loved him. She had always loved him.
She always would.
“Here we are—Illinois at last,” he said, shocking her out of her moment of utter clarity before she could do or say a thing about it.
She glanced out the front windshield, seeing they had just rolled across the border into their home state, and her heart both leaped and sank. She was happy they’d come so far in relative comfort and without any mishaps. But she also dreaded the fact that they were close to the end of their journey. She wasn’t sure how to even broach the subject of their future without coming across as either desperate or pushy.
“You know what I really want for Christmas?” he said.
“Me, wearing nothing but a red bow?”
Okay, so that might have sounded desperate and pushy, but at least in a cute way.
“Definitely.” He reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly. “But other than that?”
“Me wearing nothing but a green bow?”
His chuckle sounded pained. “Sounds as though somebody wants a little attention. Do I need to pull over and give it to you?”
She wagged her brows suggestively. “Yeah, I would love it if you pulled over and gave it to me.”
Groaning, he shifted in his seat. “Trying to drive here.”
“I don’t suppose there’s another hotel along this route with a room with a mirrored ceiling, huh?”
“You’re killing me, El.”
She dropped her hand onto his lap and he hissed. Tracing the thick ridge in his pants—oh, Lord, he was so swollen and hard for her—she sighed and quickly pulled her hand away. The driving conditions definitely weren’t right for that kind of teasing.
“Sorry.”
“Start checking signs for hotels with honeymoon suites,” he replied, his voice thick with desire.
“Deal,” she said. “Now, what is it you really want for Christmas?”
“A five-gallon tub of peanut butter.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Should I be looking for that on the hotel sign, too? Mirrored ceiling and massive quantities of peanut butter?”
“I’ve missed peanut butter so much. I’ll eat it off your toes or off a spoon—or, ooh, your nipples. I could combine the two things I’ve most missed licking over
the past seven years.”
Suddenly it was her that was shifting in her seat. She suspected he was entirely serious. The idea was intensely arousing, but also gave her the opening she’d been searching for.
“So, you’ve...”
She was about to say missed me, but before the words could leave her mouth, the car suddenly swerved. Rafe muttered a curse, gripping the steering wheel with one hand, throwing the other protectively across Ellie’s chest. She let out a yelp, seeing a car spinning wildly in front of them. Rafe had apparently spotted it going into a spin and tried to avoid it.
But even his excellent driving skills were no match for the icy road and an out-of-control vehicle. They hit the other car, spun off in the other direction and crashed into the guardrail.
“Jesus, El, are you okay?” he immediately asked, turning and grabbing her shoulders.
“I’m fine!” she insisted. “I promise.”
He ran an assessing gaze over her to make sure, then jumped out of the car. Her heart pounded as she watched him dash across the snowy highway, heading for the other vehicle. They hadn’t hit each other hard, but the bump had sent the sedan all the way across into the median.
Zipping up her coat, she got out, going over to see if she could help, too. Rafe was talking to the other driver, a middle-aged man, who appeared completely unhurt.
“So sorry about that, man,” the stranger said. “I was trying so hard to get home for Christmas, I guess I was just going a little too fast for the conditions.”
“It’s fine,” Rafe replied, “I’m just glad we’re all okay.”
Okay. And stranded on the highway at eight o’clock on Christmas Eve.
Something in her should have cried about that, felt sad, worried or concerned that they were going to freeze to death. Instead, though, Ellie could only duck her head to hide a smile. Because it didn’t look as if she and Rafe were going to make it home so soon after all.
She was going to get to spend a little more time with him...hopefully enough to figure out just what was happening between them, and if he loved her as much as she still loved him.
6
AS IT TURNED OUT, they had the accident in a pretty good spot and were in fact less than a half mile from the nearest highway exit.
Rafe had to laugh when a police cruiser stopped to help them out and told them which town he would take them to. He’d heard of the place—his cousin Mark’s wife had grown up there—and had driven past it before. But he’d never stopped.
How appropriate that he and Ellie were going to have to spend a snowy Christmas Eve stranded in a place called Christmas.
As the police officer drove them into town, they took in the animated sleighs, the costumed carolers, the wreaths, lights, twinkling trees and life-size nativities complete with donkeys, and Ellie began to smile like a kid on...well, Christmas.
“You crashed us here on purpose, didn’t you?”
“I swear, I didn’t,” he replied.
“No better place to get stuck on Christmas Eve!” the officer said, pulling up in front of a restaurant called the Candy Cane Diner. Beyond it was the Candy Cane Inn. On the other side of the street was Candy Cane Lane. “Now you folks grab yourselves some hot coffee. If you can’t get anybody out here to pick you up, head right on over to the inn. Susie, the proprietor, has plenty of room—I already radioed her.”
“Thanks, officer,” they said as they got out.
The diner was almost empty. Even the most diehard regulars probably preferred to spend the holiday at home with their families. As soon as they got inside and out of the wind and snow, Rafe grabbed his cell phone and called his parents.
They weren’t thrilled to hear about the accident, but were happy he was so close to home. Christmas was about a ninety-minute drive from Chicago, and his brother Mike offered to come get them himself in his police cruiser.
Rafe considered it. Then he gazed at Ellie, who was eyeing a menu, trying to decide between coffee and hot chocolate, and he replied, “I hate to have you come out in this weather. We’ll just ride out the storm here and you can come get us in the morning, okay?”
“Uh...us?”
He chuckled. “Didn’t I mention I’ve got somebody with me?”
“No,” his brother said, sounding very curious. “Who exactly did you bring all the way from New York in a blizzard?”
“Ellie,” he admitted. “Ellie Blake.”
His brother chortled and launched into a barrage of questions. Rafe ignored them, said he’d talk to him in the morning and disconnected the call. Returning to the booth, he took a seat opposite Ellie.
“I ordered one coffee and one hot chocolate. We can share.”
“Good plan,” he said.
“So what did your family say? Is your brother going to come pick us up?”
He shook his head. “No, not until the morning.”
She didn’t seem especially disappointed. “Oh, okay.”
“Are you sure that’s all right? You wanted to get home for Christmas.”
“Tomorrow’s Christmas. My family can have me tomorrow.” Ellie licked her lips and dropped her eyes, as if she wasn’t sure what to say.
Somehow, he already knew. He’d known all day, as they’d talked about nothing and everything, as they’d become familiar with each other again, become not just lovers but partners. They were together again. This time, nothing was going to tear them apart...not even his own hardheadedness.
The love he’d carried around for this woman for seven long, empty years, was every bit as strong today as it had been the day he’d said goodbye.
Now he wanted to tell her that.
“Tonight’s for us,” he said.
“Yes. For us.”
He reached across the table and took her hand.
“I could try to come up with some pretty words, but I’m not the type to make speeches, and I can’t think of any better way to say it than this. I love you, Ellie.”
She twined her fingers with his and smiled at him so beautifully, so joyfully, his breath left his mouth in a rush.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I love you, too.”
He didn’t reply for a moment, letting her words sink in, letting them fill in all those empty particles where mere memory had once lived, which he’d intentionally carved out if only to survive the loss of her. Now he had her back—in his bed, in his life, in his heart—back where she belonged. Anything was possible.
“Will you wait for me? Give me one more year and then we can be together?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
His jaw fell open.
“No more waiting,” she insisted, getting up from her seat and walking around to sit beside him on his side of the booth. “I’m coming with you.”
He slid his hands into her hair and tugged her close, pressing a warm, hungry kiss on her beautiful mouth. The waitress came by, paused, then smiled and kept walking, but they didn’t stop kissing. He didn’t want to ever stop kissing this woman who’d owned his heart for seven years.
Finally, they broke apart, sharing breaths, heartbeats and a quiet confidence that they’d just started a wonderful new chapter of their lives.
“So you’ll come with me to Georgia? As much as I hate to take you away from your job and your family, I can’t be without you for another whole year.”
“I’ll come with you anywhere you want to go, Rafe Santori. I don’t own the clinic, Denny does. He can survive without me. I’ll find a place to work in Georgia—I’m sure there’s some needy clinic that could use a hand.”
Overjoyed, he kissed her again, sealing the bargain, happy beyond measure that he wouldn’t have to be away from her ever again.
When they finally ended the
kiss, he gestured out the window toward the cheerfully decorated building across the street, its vacancy sign flashing red. “There’s somewhere you can go with me right now. How does Christmas Eve at the Candy Cane Inn sound?”
“Do you suppose they have mirrored ceilings?”
Laughing, he said, “I don’t know. But let’s ask the waitress for a jar of peanut butter to go...just to be on the safe side.”
* * *
ELLIE MIGHT HAVE MISSED a midnight eggnog toast with her family, but she was sure that, for as long as she lived, last night would rank as the most wonderful Christmas Eve she had ever experienced. There had been no mirrored ceilings, no peanut butter and no seedy roadside motel with thin sheets and threadbare blankets. There had just been a warm, cozy room, a brightly burning fire in the fireplace and Rafe’s strong, tender arms holding her all night long.
They’d made love for hours, whispering and dreaming and saying Merry Christmas again and again. Each time they knew they were really saying “Merry First Christmas of the Rest of Our Lives,” and “Merry Last Christmas of Being Alone,” and “Merry All the Christmases We Were Apart.”
No presents, no carols. But oh, so much love. Enough to wipe away the memory of all the years they hadn’t had together. She fell asleep whispering his name and woke to hear him whispering hers. Never in her life had she been happier.
True to his word, Rafe’s youngest brother, Mike, came to pick them up the next morning. A Chicago police officer, he was driving in a well-equipped SUV and had no problem getting them to the city.
He had welcomed Ellie with open arms, as if she and Rafe had never been apart, and kept insisting that it was absolutely no trouble for her to come to Christmas breakfast with the Santoris. She’d already called her own parents, filled them in on what was happening and promised to be home by early afternoon. Rafe hadn’t been with his family on Christmas for three years—she didn’t want to deprive him of that for one minute longer than necessary.
