Starry Night: A Christmas Novel

by Debbie Macomber

The table was covered with partially empty serving dishes, and their plates were practically clean when Carrie leaned back in her chair and groaned. “If I swallow another bite I will explode. Oh, Finn, you’re a wonderful chef.”

  Finn basked in her praise although the meal had been a team effort. She’d done a good deal of the preparation work.

  They sat across from each other. “What were your Thanksgivings like as a child?” she asked.

  “Funny you should ask. I was just thinking about that myself.” The memories wrapped themselves around him, warming him. “Mom got up at the crack of dawn and got the turkey in the oven so I woke to the smell of it roasting. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. She’d be busy baking and cooking, and Dad would offer to help.”

  “He would? I don’t picture your dad as someone who would volunteer to help cook.”

  “He wasn’t. To the best of my memory, he only offered at Thanksgiving. I think he was more of a nuisance than anything. I suspect what he wanted was to be close to Mom. Dad’s main job was to peel the potatoes.”

  “What was your job?”

  “To eat the potatoes,” Finn teased.

  Just the way he knew she would, Carrie laughed. “Then, after dinner, Mom would bring out this Nativity set and she’d let me set it up on the fireplace mantel. I still have it.”

  “Do you put it out for Christmas?” she asked.

  If anyone else had asked, he’d deny it, but with Carrie he couldn’t. Everything was different with Carrie.

  “What about Thanksgiving after your mother left?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “It was just Dad and me, and maybe a few of my father’s single friends.”

  “Did you ever leave Alaska?”

  “Why would we?”

  “Vacations?”

  “Alaska has everything I would ever want, but on occasion I did travel. I went to France once, and England. A couple of times I had business meetings in Texas and got a kick out of the lone-star attitude, thinking they’re so big. Minnesota brags about its ten thousand lakes. Do you know how many lakes are in Alaska?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Over a million.”

  “A million!”

  Finn knew she was impressed just by the way she said it.

  “You were born in Seattle. Do you have any memories of life there?” she asked.

  “None. Mom and Dad moved to Fairbanks when I was a baby. They bought a house there and Dad kept it, but he built a cabin on the tundra as well.”

  “And then you did, too.”

  “My father built that house with his own two hands, and he taught me everything he knew. I was fortunate to learn I could survive on my own in the wilderness if it was ever necessary. Some of those experiences are included in Alone, but I have a lot more stories to tell.”

  Carrie leaned forward and pushed her plate aside. “I don’t see why you refuse to give interviews. It’s not like you’re truly a recluse, and from what I’ve seen you would even be good on television.”

  He sighed and leaned back while he formulated his answer. When the book had first started selling, his publisher had wanted him to do interviews. But Finn hadn’t signed up to have his personal life invaded. He wanted nothing to do with that side of the business. From that point forward, his publisher automatically rejected all interviews and invitations for appearances. All the interest and attention embarrassed him. It wasn’t until reporters started making trips to Fairbanks that he grew irritated and stubborn.

  “The simple answer is that I like my privacy.”

  She mulled that over, and he half expected her to bring up the article she wanted to write. She didn’t, and gradually the tension between his shoulder blades eased. Maybe he could trust her. He certainly wanted to.

  Their conversation drifted to other subjects, and Finn was grateful. He didn’t often talk about his childhood. Carrie’s had been wrapped around happy memories of cousins and family gatherings. Finn hadn’t experienced that and didn’t realize all he’d missed. He enjoyed listening to her stories. If he ever had a family, this was what he would wish for his own children.

  They cleaned the kitchen together, music playing in the background, using any time they were in close proximity to kiss. Hands down, this had been the best Thanksgiving of his life.

  Once they finished with the cleanup, Finn brought out the cribbage board.

  “What are we playing for?” she asked, as she sat down and reached for the deck.

  He shrugged. “Whatever you wish.”

  Carrie’s smile widened. “Oh, how tempting. Okay, if I win, we go shopping in the morning.”

  “Shopping?” He couldn’t believe she would even suggest something so out of his comfort zone. He knew from previous conversations this was something Carrie and her mother did every Black Friday. “This is a joke, right?”

  “No joke. I want you to meet my friends, and right now they’ll take one look and know you’re from Alaska. From there, it’ll be easy to make the leap that you’re Finn Dalton.”

  Gauging by the determination in her eyes, Finn realized it didn’t matter what cards he was dealt. Within a matter of hours he would be on the Chicago streets, credit card in hand, and he’d do it gladly because Carrie had asked him to.

  The deep-dish sausage and pepperoni pizza sat in the middle of the table in front of Carrie and Finn. Try as she might, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was gorgeous. His beard was gone, and his hair neatly trimmed. His jaw was clearly defined, and his lips were full and enticing.

  “Stop looking at me,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

  “Sorry, I can’t help myself. You look more scrumptious than that pizza.” The woodsman had disappeared, and in his place sat Prince Charming. Finn was handsome—well, in her eyes, anyway—and if the glances she saw coming from other women in the restaurant were anything to go by, she wasn’t alone in thinking so. The transformation was total. Finn exuded vigor and strength, and she found it nearly impossible to keep from staring.

  “You have to admit this is the best pizza you’ve ever tasted,” she said, in an effort to keep the conversation going. If she was drooling, it wasn’t over the food.

  “All right, you win. Chicago pizza isn’t half bad, but you have to promise to try reindeer-sausage pizza the next time you’re in Alaska.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” she teased.

  “I’m serious.”

  She loved the idea that he assumed she would visit Alaska again, and frankly, she wasn’t opposed to the idea, especially if it meant she would be with Finn. It didn’t hurt that he loved pizza as much as she did, either.

  “You know what’s funny?” he said, wiping the grease from his fingers with a paper napkin. “I keep fighting the urge to text you.”

  Carrie laughed because she’d experienced the same feeling. It was the usual way they communicated and had become such a habit that it felt odd not to be exchanging texts even when they sat across the table from each other.

  “We’re done shopping, right?”

  “We are unless you have a secret desire to face the maddening crowds yet again.”

  He scoffed. “Hardly. I’ve seen about as many people in one day as I can handle. I’m starting to feel claustrophobic. Is it always like this in the city?”

  “Always. Sometimes worse, although not often. Black Friday is a special, magical day.” Carrie hid a smile. One disgruntled look from Finn told her he could do without the holiday craziness. “But you haven’t been to Navy Pier yet.”

  “Another time,” he pleaded. “I don’t think I can take much more of these crowds, let alone the noise.”

  “Okay.” Carrie had no complaints, watching as he once again ran his hand over his smooth cheeks as though he felt naked.

  He’d arrived at her apartment that morning clean shaven, and for just an instant she hadn’t recognized the man standing in front of her. She hadn’t asked him to shave and had been both shocked and delig
hted.

  “And you keep staring at me.”

  “Sorry, I can’t stop myself. I had no idea you were such a hunk.”

  He chuckled as if she’d made a joke, but she wasn’t kidding. The minute her friends took one look at him, they’d be all over Finn, especially Sophie. She frowned, disliking the thought.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, as he paid their tab and collected their purchases. Finn reached for her hand, gripping it in his own as they started out of the restaurant.

  It amazed her how easily he read her mood. “What makes you think anything is wrong?”

  “You’re frowning.”

  “I just got an inkling of how you felt with me spending the evening with Dave.” They wove their way around busy tables toward the front of the well-known Chicago pizza restaurant.

  He paused, frowning, his brow folding into thick ripples. “I doubt that.”

  “I was imagining my friends meeting you, and I realized they are going to want you for themselves. You’re mine, Finn, all mine.”

  His eyes grew dark and serious. His grip tightened on her hand. “No one is going to turn my head, Carrie. It simply isn’t possible.”

  Carrie and Finn walked back to her condo, bundles in hand. Until that morning Finn mentioned that the only clothes shopping he’d done in years had been through catalogs or online. It’d been a true test of the strength of their relationship when it came to choosing dress slacks and a sweater for him. All in all, he’d been more than patient, but she could appreciate his unease.

  Once back at her condo, Finn collapsed onto her sofa, spreading out his arms along the back cushion. Her tree was up but had yet to be decorated, and although it was only four feet tall, it took up one entire corner of her living room. Finn had placed a gift under it first thing that morning. She eyed it now, wrapped in plain brown paper.

  “Curious?” he asked.

  “Very.” She picked it up, held it close to her ear, and shook it.

  “Any guesses?”

  “I doubt it’s a can opener.”

  He grinned. “You’re way off base.”

  “Do you want to tell me?”

  “And ruin the surprise? No way. You have to wait until Christmas.”

  Carrie reluctantly set it back down. “You’re taunting me, and that simply isn’t fair.”

  “I think you’ll be pleased” was all Finn was willing to tell her. Over the years she’d received a variety of gifts from the men she’d dated, but Finn’s gifts were distinctive in every way. It wasn’t likely she would ever forget that toaster.

  Carrie went over to her television and removed a DVD from her collection.

  “We’re watching a movie?” Finn asked.

  “Yes. It’s tradition.”

  “What movie?”

  “You’ll see in a minute.”

  “Is it a romance? I don’t think I could sit through a chick flick—not after the last three hours.”

  “Shush.” She sat down close to him and reached for her remote control, pushing the appropriate button.

  Right away he slid his arm around her shoulders and then let it drop. “The Bishop’s Wife?” he muttered as the title flashed across the screen. “It’s in black and white.”

  “Have you seen it?”

  “Yes, years ago …”

  “It’s my favorite Christmas movie.”

  “Ah …”

  “Shhh, you’ll miss the introduction.”

  His arm was back, and she pressed her head against his shoulder. “Just relax and enjoy.”

  He grumbled, but she noticed that he was soon into the movie. Every now and again he would lean forward and kiss her temple. Carrie snuggled into his embrace. She loved that they could cuddle and be this close.

  “Listen up. This is one of the best lines of any movie ever.” Carrie mouthed the words along with Cary Grant as he spoke to Loretta Young.

  Finn sat up slightly. “You’ve memorized the movie?”

  “Parts of it. Like I said, it’s one of my favorites.” It thrilled her that he was with her and they could view it together. What she loved was how much he seemed to be enjoying it, too.

  “Just how many times have you watched this silly movie?”

  “It isn’t a silly movie,” she insisted, knowing that he enjoyed teasing her.

  “Have you ever seen The Replacement Killers?”

  “Yuck, no.”

  “Yuck? It’s a great movie.”

  “Tell you what,” Carrie whispered, tilting her head back and kissing the underside of his clean-shaven jaw. “I’ll watch it with you one day, as long as you promise to hold me just like this.”

  He smiled down on her. “Deal.”

  The phone rang shortly after the movie ended. It was Sophie. “A group of us are going to Logan’s for drinks. Can you meet us?”

  “Let me check.”

  “Check?” Sophie repeated.

  “I have company. F—Paul is in town.”

  “Seattle Paul? The guy who’s got you walking around with your head in the clouds Paul?”

  “One and the same.” Finn eyed her closely. Carrie was sure he was able to hear both sides of the conversation.

  “You didn’t say anything about him coming to Chicago.”

  “I didn’t know. It was a surprise.”

  “Well, bring him. I, for one, am dying to meet this guy.”

  “Hold on.” Carrie pressed her cell against her chest. “What do you think? Do you want to go out tonight?”

  “Do you?”

  She shrugged. “I’d like you to meet my friends.”

  He hesitated and then nodded. “Okay.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him soundly on the lips.

  “I could grow accustomed to these little rewards you so willingly hand out,” he murmured as he gripped her hand.

  Carrie smiled and brought the cell back to her ear. “What time?”

  “Does eight work for you?”

  “Perfect. See you then.”

  Sophie hesitated. “Does Paul have a friend?”

  “No, and, fair warning, hands off. Got it?”

  Sophie laughed before the line was disconnected.

  “Who’s Logan?” Finn asked.

  “It’s a bar about six blocks from here. A few of us from the newspaper hang out there when we can.”

  “Noisy?”

  “Afraid so. Sorry.”

  Finn chuckled. “It won’t be so bad if there are rewards involved.”

  Carrie smiled. “I imagine there will be more than a few.”

  “Then bring on the noise.”

  For the rest of the afternoon they simply hung out together while a medley of Christmas songs played in the background. It seemed they never ran out of things to talk about. And as promised, Finn gave her sections of his new book to read and critique. Carrie found it as good as, if not better than, Alone and told him so.

  They left the condo around seven forty-five and with her arm tucked in Finn’s they walked the six blocks to Logan’s. The noise was explosive the instant they entered the bar. Sophie and Bruce already had a table. Bruce worked for the newspaper, and he’d been dating Sophie for the last few months, following his divorce. According to Sophie, it wasn’t a serious relationship, and after seeing them together a couple of times, Carrie had to agree.

  The noise level made it nearly impossible to talk, but they managed by yelling across the table to one another. Finn ordered a beer. Sophie and Carrie had their favorite dirty martinis before another couple joined them. Introductions were made and a second round of drinks was ordered. Finn stayed close to her side and contributed to the conversation, although it was difficult with the bar so crowded. They left an hour later.

  “I enjoyed meeting your friends,” he commented when they were outside in the relative quiet of the street.

  “But the crowds and the noise bothered you.”

  “Not bothered, exactly,” he said, and reached for her hand. “I’m just not acc
ustomed to it to that extent. We get plenty rowdy in Fairbanks ourselves, you know.”

  “But this is different.”

  He grinned and nodded. Soon they had their arms around each other as it started to snow again. They took a leisurely stroll down Michigan Avenue on the way back to Carrie’s place. On a side street they walked past a bookstore, and Alone took up the entire window display. Finn paused and did a double take.

  “How does it feel seeing that?” she asked.

  He took his time answering. “I’ve seen it displayed before, but nothing like this. It leaves me feeling a little … I don’t know, weird, I guess.”

  “A good weird, though, right?” She felt proud for him and for all that he’d accomplished, proud to be with him. Carrie knew the phenomenal sales of his book had shocked Finn. He didn’t seem to understand what it was about his book that fascinated readers. When he’d submitted the manuscript, he’d been amazed at how quickly it’d sold. Then to have it shoot straight to the top of the bestseller lists and remain there for months on end was beyond the scope of his imagination.

  “I can see your mind working,” he said, and, leaning down, he kissed her brow. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “So you’re a mind reader now.”

  “You’d love to write that article about me, wouldn’t you?”

  To deny it would be a falsehood, but to confess that she’d composed it a half-dozen times in her mind, even still had a rough draft on her laptop, would give him the wrong impression. “That’s a moot point. I would never destroy the trust you have in me. I wouldn’t submit a word until you gave me the approval to do so.”

  He was silent for a long time and then said, “Fair enough.”

  They held hands as he walked her to her condo and kissed her good night.

  “Come upstairs with me?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I think I should go back to the hotel.”

  Carrie held on to his hand. “Is everything all right? You’re not upset about anything, are you?”

  Finn brought her back into his arms and hugged her close. “You’re far too tempting, Carrie. If I came upstairs with you now, I wouldn’t be leaving until morning, and we both know it.”

  Carrie went into her building with a happy, excited sense of anticipation and relief. She would see Finn tomorrow. He’d met her friends and not a one had even suspected her Seattle Paul was Finnegan Dalton.