by C. M. Albert
When I lifted my eyes, I noticed that Mitch was staring at me, watching my mouth. His eyes trailed slowly back up to mine. “Yeah, I completely misjudged you,” he said, licking his lip. I wanted to crawl over the packages and wrapping paper and sink into his lap, take his mouth in mine. The soothing harmonies of Pentatonix’s “That’s Christmas to Me” played quietly in the background. And I knew, without a doubt, that this image was seared into my brain now, just as real as any photograph.
When I thought of Christmas in the future, my mind would drift back to this moment with Mitch’s eyes locked on mine, music playing softly in the background, a nice glass of wine by my side, the fireplace thawing our hearts. It was the first time in five years that I even let myself experience the magic of Christmas in any way.
And I never wanted to let the feeling go.
IT WAS PITCH black in the room where I was crashing for the night, and I was sound asleep when a hand slid under the covers to shake me awake. “Hey,” I heard whispered quietly.
At first I was confused, so I sat straight up in bed, willing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I couldn’t remember where I was or whom I was with. My mind went immediately to Paris and the last normal night we’d spent together in Hawaii before the attack. I reached out to feel for my right arm and was met with open space and a throbbing nub just below my shoulder. My hand massaged the small, bumpy surface that was all that remained of my arm, reminding me I wasn’t in Hawaii anymore. I slowed my breathing, remembering the strategies my therapist had given me. I was just disoriented. I needed to slow my breathing so I didn’t trigger an anxiety attack.
I smelled her before I saw her. A familiar mix of lavender and vanilla brushed my senses, soothing me instantly. “Dez?” I asked, still a little groggy and disoriented. “What time is it? Is everything okay?”
I ran my hand over my face, sitting up straighter and propping myself against the headboard. She joined me on the edge of the bed, her body brushing the sides of my legs as she faced me. It was really dark, so she reached out her hand and found my arm by touch.
“Sorry to wake you, Mitch,” she said quickly. “I couldn’t wait till morning. Look!” She turned her phone to me and pressed in her code. Up popped a picture of a red, wet-looking baby. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Dez gushed.
“Uh . . .” I squinted to see the baby a little more clearly in the dark. “Whoa,” I said, sitting up fully. “Is this Egan’s baby girl?”
“Yeah,” she said, laughing. “Celeste’s too, I hear.”
“Very funny,” I said, taking the phone from her.
“Scroll through a few of the pictures. There are some cuter ones after she was all cleaned up. Here,” she said. “Scootch over.”
I made room for her and she joined me on the bed, our backs to the headboard as I scrolled through the dozen pictures Egan had already texted over. “Holy shit. They’re really parents,” I whispered. “She is beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Dez sighed. “I’m not really a baby person myself, but this little angel sure is adorable. I mean, look at all that hair!”
I looked at the baby a little more closely, noticing for the first time the brown curl poking out from the tight pink cap with the large bow on the front. “She was right,” I said, turning to look at Dez, my eyes adjusted to the dark now that we had the ambient glow of her cell phone. “It was a girl after all.”
“Of course she was. Celeste is intuitive and Rosalie all but confirmed it for her.”
“Looks like we need to hurry up and get that second coat on the bassinet first thing tomorrow”—I glanced at Dez’s phone again—“scratch that. First thing this morning. Can’t believe it’s four in the morning. What time did she have her? And did she tell you a name?”
Dez yawned, stretching out. “No name yet. Had her at 3:33 a.m. Egan said they are absolutely exhausted and will text again later when they have more info. But Celeste and the baby are doing great. Just a few small hiccups, but otherwise fine.”
“Do I even want to know?” I asked, knowing I really didn’t.
“No. Just female stuff.” Dez elbowed me in the dark. It felt nice having her there, her body weight pressing against mine.
“What an exciting day,” I said. “Thanks for waking me to show me.”
“Mmm,” she replied, already slouching more against my arm. I moved it, wrapping it around her shoulders and cradling her to my side. She snuggled right into me and I heard her breathing slow, falling into a nice, gentle rhythm.
It felt better than it had any right to. She wasn’t my girlfriend; hell, we were hardly friends. Yet, somehow, strangely, it felt entirely too natural to have her in my arms as we both drifted off to sleep.
TRUE TO HER word, Dez had powered through all of the gifts we could find the night before. We were beyond delirious by the time we parted ways—her padding downstairs and me heading upstairs to the guest suites. Add in her middle-of-the-night visit and catnap in my arms and, well, it was nearly nine o’clock by the time I caught the sunlight streaming in through the parted plantation shutters.
I made quick time showering and getting my butt downstairs to help. I vaguely remembered Dez startling herself awake and slowly slipping from my arm before it was light out. The bed grew cold quickly where her body had been pressed against mine. I hated feeling her absence even more than I hated enjoying having her there during the night. I tossed and turned after she left, finally falling back to sleep as the sun broke the horizon, casting warm pinks and purples across the buttercream-colored walls.
I hadn’t slept in that late since I was recovering from my surgery and was so drugged up on prescription painkillers I couldn’t tell when it was morning and when it was night. I shook my head, walking across the room to the en suite bathroom. Celeste had added bathrooms to every upstairs bedroom. It was nice, I had to admit. Even though this used to be my home, everything was organized and arranged differently, so I didn’t have a clue where anything was.
I stumbled my way through a shower, finding supplies in an oversized armoire near the bathroom’s entrance. The smell of bacon hurried me along, causing me to cut my shower time in half and skip the shave. When I rounded the corner to the kitchen, I stopped cold. Dez was dressed in a sexy little Mrs. Claus apron, which she was wearing over a set of red silk candy cane pajamas. Christmas carols were playing on the radio and she was busy flipping pancakes on a new griddle that was installed on the huge commercial-grade range Celeste and Egan needed for their retreat guests.
She turned, lifting a spatula to her mouth and singing with gusto. “Santa Claus is coming to town,” she belted out. When her eyes met mine, an endearing smile crept over her freshly washed morning face. Her hair was up in a long ponytail, and I never wanted so badly to grab a woman by the waist and take her in my arms—both of my arms. I had visions of spinning her around the brightly lit kitchen while we swayed to Christmas carols.
She was a burst of cheerful energy on an otherwise chilly winter morning, and it contradicted what I thought I knew about Dez. She giggled, causing my heart to stir and my jeans to tighten simultaneously. Damn, she was adorable when she wasn’t busting my chops.
“Good morning,” she said. “Hope you like pancakes. I was in the mood to cook after all that wine last night. Guess I was jonesing the carbs to soak it up. Coffee?” she asked, never missing a beat. She nodded her head to the sideboard where Celeste and Egan kept a Keurig fully stocked. “There’s creamer and almond milk in the fridge, depending on how you like it,” she added.
How I liked it brought a lot to my mind, and the images had nothing to do with my coffee and everything to do with the sexy brunette in holiday pajamas.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” she said, pulling the bacon from the oven.
How could I tell her that it was because she took my breath away? That I wasn’t used to sharing my morning routine with another human? That I was kind of enjoying both of those things together—with her.
“Jus
t a little tired after all that wine last night, I guess. And your late-night visit,” I added, wishing we’d had a better reason for the lack of sleep. “Plus, I’m worried about Ti. Frank called a few minutes ago and said he never came home. He’s such a good kid; he just needs to stay away from the wrong influences.”
She walked over to me, placing her hand on mine. “I’m really sorry, Mitch. I know you care about him a great deal.”
“Yeah, probably a little too much,” I grumbled.
“I don’t think that’s possible. I can’t wait to see you around the other kids tonight! I’ll bring my camera so I can get lots of shots while you’re working with them.”
“We won’t be doing too much work tonight,” I admitted. “Though we are finishing the ornaments for the children’s wing in the hospital. We’ll be hand-delivering an ornament and a stuffed animal to the kids there on Christmas Eve. Is that something you might like to tag along for?”
For some reason, my throat constricted and I suddenly felt nervous. Why did I feel as if I were asking her out on a date?
I felt the need to clarify. “You know . . . because it might make for some good pictures of the kids. They’re the real angels in action. Here they have so little themselves, and yet this was the service project they wanted to focus on this fall.”
“Do you have them do a service project every year?” she asked, piling our breakfast onto platters and setting them on the cozy round table in the breakfast nook.
I slid into the booth, my mouth agape at the spread she’d made. “You cooking for guests I’m not aware of, Dez?”
She swatted me when she walked by. “You never know when you’ll need a robust appetite,” she threw back.
My mouth suddenly felt dry. I grabbed the pitcher of orange juice she’d placed on the table and filled both of our glasses. I took a long, healthy swallow, my eyes following her curvaceous bottom as she padded back and forth across the kitchen, the silk of her pajama bottoms hiding very little.
After breakfast, we headed to the barn to finish staining the bassinet. I appreciated her patience as I filled Inez and Bridgette in on our visit the night before to the Morellis house, as well as to share the news about Celeste and Egan’s daughter.
Dez was busy texting Rosalie, asking her to start calling Celeste and Egan’s friends on their calling tree list to tell them about the baby. I was glad someone else was tasked with that one. Dez and I had enough on our plates, and I didn’t feel like having extensive conversations about how much the baby weighed or what color her hair was. Didn’t all babies pretty much look the same anyway?
The second coat of stain didn’t take nearly as long as the first. Since our middle-of-the-night cuddle fest, we’d kept our physical proximity at a respectable distance, which was definitely for the best. Seeing her walk out to the Jeep in her dark blue jeans, tight blue sweater that matched her eyes, and her hot little moto jacket was almost more than I could handle. I knew I’d be the one to mess up our little bet if she so much as breathed in my direction. I was a lit fuse waiting to explode.
As we drove to the next town over to visit their big-box baby store, I couldn’t help but think about Celeste and Egan’s daughter. I’d never so much as even thought about wanting a child, and I couldn’t imagine having one change my life overnight like that. It was the farthest thing from my radar, next to, say, believing I would become an astronaut one day like I dreamed about in third grade.
I couldn’t imagine being responsible for another human being 24/7. Especially after working as a big brother for the youth center these past few years. If my heart was this shattered solely based on Ti’s choices, I wasn’t sure how I could ever have a family of my own. Then again, just a year and a half ago, Egan would’ve said the same thing.
I looked over and saw Dez taking pictures of the mountains as we drove. If I ever found someone worth sticking for, I hoped it would be with someone like her, I thought.
Good thing that wasn’t even an option. My last relationship had failed epically, and I was still digging my way out of the shadows of prescription drug abuse, physical therapy, depression, and anger. There was no room to let the light in. There was just no room available in my heart for anything more than the darkness and pain that lived there.
When I parked the Jeep, we both sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of us moving. We turned to look at each other, then burst out laughing.
“Oh, man. I’m not sure who’s more uncomfortable doing this—you or me. You should see the look on your face, Mitch. Come on, it won’t be so bad. How hard could shopping for baby stuff be?”
Two hours later, and with every person in the store congratulating Dez and me, and asking us when we were due, we finally conceded it was way worse than we’d imagined. Celeste and Egan would be stocked up for at least six weeks we’d been told. Looking at all of the bags and boxes filling the back of the Cherokee before slamming the hatch down, it suddenly hit me: Dez would be long gone before our friends even ran out of baby supplies.
I wasn’t sure why that suddenly made me so sad.
MITCH NEEDED TO help Inez and Bridgette with a few things before the party later that evening, so when we arrived back to Arden’s Glen, I offered to take Egan’s truck to the hospital so Mitch could stay at the youth center and wrap up some loose ends. I was starving after our marathon shopping session, and it well past my normal lunchtime. I figured I’d pop into LettuceWrap to grab a sandwich to go, then head across the street for a few last-minute gifts. Petite Bébé was a locally owned store and they had adorable, imported baby gifts that were more unique than the big-box store we’d visited earlier. I wanted to pick up something special for the baby.
What a Christmas miracle, I thought as I stepped into the café. Rosalie was at the counter pouring drinks and making small talk with the locals. She waved me over. “Hey, girl!” she said, hugging me across the sparkly silver countertop. I sat on one of the bright green vinyl stool tops and grinned back at her. Rosalie hadn’t been able to make it to Celeste and Egan’s party the other night, so this was the first time I was seeing her this trip.
“Hey, Rosalie! How are things going?” I looked around at the flourishing business. “Things have really picked up in here,” I commented.
“Yeah, ever since I started broadcasting my podcast live from here, people have been coming in all the time. They’re curious about me, and”—she shrugged her shoulders—“you know. My abilities. People are coming in from other counties just to have lunch here. I’ve been getting a ton of work doing private readings, too.”
“That’s wonderful, Rosalie. You look happy,” I noticed as I saw the way her eyes were sparkling and her face was flush.
“Yep, ’cause look who just walked in,” she said, nodding her head toward the door. “Hey, Mitch! I have your order ready over here.” I watched as her demeanor changed from happy young girl to seductive young woman as Mitch walked across the café toward us.
“Thanks, Rosalie. Just grabbing our lunches, then I need to head back to the youth center. Finish getting ready for tonight.” He looked down at me, sitting on the stool, and grinned.
Rosalie patted Mitch’s hand that rested on the countertop, oblivious to the crackling sexual tension I felt with Mitch standing so close to me. “Be right back then, hot stuff.” She swiveled her hips and used them to bounce the swinging doors open, making sure Mitch got her best side as she retreated into the kitchen.
“Well, this is awkward, Newman,” I said under my breath.
“Fancy meeting you here, Jerry. We can’t seem to stay away from each other, can we?” He lifted a strand of my hair and played with it as he smiled at me. “As a matter of fact, are you stalking me? I’m starting to think maybe it’s not me after all. Maybe you’re the one who keeps purposefully running into me?” he teased.
“Like I said in the barn, Mitch—when I decide to pursue you, you’ll definitely know.” I arched an eyebrow in his direction and swung my head, pulling the str
and of hair he was rubbing from his fingers. He pouted at me. “Besides, it looks like you have your hands full already,” I said, nodding my head toward the back.
“Pfft,” Mitch said, waving his hand absently. He leaned down and cupped the side of my face. “I don’t date girls, Dez. I want a woman in my bed who knows what she’s doing,” he whispered huskily. “I want a woman who can spar with me intellectually. And I want a woman who is feisty, and who makes me work a little for it. Think you know anyone like that?”
His fingers trailed down the side of my neck before he stood back up, stepping away from me. My heart beat rapidly as Rosalie stepped out from the kitchen, carrying four large bags of food. I took a deep breath, adjusting my legs on the stool. The simple way he’d whispered that in my ear, the way his voice was so sure, so commanding, confirmed what I suspected about Mitch, and I grew wet imagining what it would be like to have him talk to me with that kind of confidence in the bedroom. I liked a man who could take control, and I had no doubt Mitch would step up to the plate. If the dangerous look in his eyes was any indication, I was pretty sure we were on the same page.
“Here ya go, darlin’,” Rosalie said, handing the bags to Mitch. “I put it on Inez’s tab, so don’t worry about it. Tell the ladies I said hey.”
“You coming to the party tonight? It’s going to be a lot of fun,” Mitch said, his attention swinging to Rosalie. “I have a special project I want to chat with you about, if you have the time.”
A wave of jealousy curled over me as I watched Rosalie toss back her long, burgundy-tinted hair. Her curls bounced perfectly down her tiny back as she leaned in toward Mitch. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world with an invitation like that.” She positively purred as she wet her lips and stared at Mitch’s mouth.
Oh, brother!
“Great,” he said. “I know the kids will love seeing you. Hey, it was good bumping into you again, Dez,” he said, as if we hadn’t just cuddled in bed the night before and then spent the morning shopping for baby gifts together. I wanted to punch him in the throat as he grabbed his bags from Rosalie and headed out the door. We both watched him walk all the way out the café. Despite my roiling anger, I couldn’t help but appreciate his retreating backside. The man was freaking built.
