Twins for Christmas

by Layla Valentine

No one seemed to know what to do as the mule run wild—that is, aside from getting the hell out of the way. But I wasn’t about to stand by and not do anything. I’d never tamed a runaway mule before, but I’d always prided myself on my ability to learn anything with a little hands-on experience.

  I rolled up my sleeves, my eyes on the crazed animal.

  “Adam,” said Isla. “I mean, Mr. Forde.”

  “Adam is fine,” I said. “Considering the circumstances.”

  “Adam,” she said again. “What are you going to do?”

  “Grab that thing,” I said with a small smile.

  “Have you ever done anything like this before?”

  “Nah,” I said. “But how hard can it be?”

  The mule broke across the street, commotion sounding out around us as no one seemed to know what the hell to do.

  “Trust me,” she said lowly. “A runaway mule’s tougher than it looks.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I said.

  A determined smile spread across my face, the same smile that appeared whenever I was ready to take on a challenge, and I broke out into a sprint, cutting the distance between me and the mule in no time at all.

  Okay, I thought as I sized the animal up. Can’t be that strong—just wrap your arms around it and wrestle it to the ground. Once you’ve got it down, some other people are sure to jump in and help you.

  Sounded like a perfect plan to me. Nothing else to do but see it through.

  “All right boy…girl, whatever you are,” I said, my gaze on the animal which was now bucking in place. “Let’s do this nice and easy-like, got it?”

  With one steeling deep breath, I jumped in, arms wide out. My heart was racing and I was ready. I wrapped my arms around the mule and grabbed on as tightly as I could.

  But it wasn’t nearly tight enough.

  Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was my angle of attack, maybe it was the fact that I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. But in the brief few seconds of my holding onto the mule, its coat coarse against my skin and the smell of the thing like I’d just stuck my head into a barn, it managed to buck me right off and onto the ground before I even knew what the hell happened.

  It let out a braying whine as I hit the ground, my butt ringing out in pain as I landed. I came to my senses just in time to see the mule running off.

  And following closely behind it was…Isla?

  I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. But sure enough, it was her.

  What is she doing? I thought. I’m twice her damn size! If I couldn’t wrestle that thing to the ground…

  Evidently, though, wrestling wasn’t what she had in mind. Instead she ran in front of the mule and raised her palms. For a moment I was certain that it was going to keep going, just slam on into her and send her to the ground like it’d done to me.

  That didn’t happen. Instead the mule stopped in his tracks as surely as if a brick wall had dropped down in front of it. Her palms still raised, Isla made slow steps toward the animal.

  And to my shock, the mule didn’t budge. It stayed perfectly still as Isla approached. I glanced over my shoulder back at the crowd to see that they were all watching the scene with the same surprise that I had been.

  Isla moved closer and closer to the mule, and as she closed the last few inches, my gut tightened at the idea of it bucking at the last minute and hurting her. But that didn’t happen. Instead she placed her hands on the sides of the beast, leaned in, and whispered something into its ear. And it stayed perfectly still all the while.

  Once she’d worked her magic, she took the animal by its harness and began to walk it back toward the church. My jaw nearly dropped. She’d really done it. Isla’s eyes flicked onto me for a brief moment as she passed, a surprised expression painting her features for a moment.

  Cheers broke out among the crowd as Isla led the animal back to the nativity scene. She returned the mule to its place, and once everything was ready the show went on. Isla returned to my side as it did, flashing me a small smile.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  The nativity soon reached its end and the crowd began to scatter, more than a few of the people casting appreciative glances in our direction on their way. Okay—maybe most of the glances were for Isla. She’d actually tamed the thing, after all.

  Soon, the area had cleared, and it was just the two of us in front of the church.

  “What?” asked Isla.

  I must’ve been looking at her with a strange expression.

  “Nothing,” I said with a smile. “Just finding out that you’re full of surprises.”

  Chapter 12

  Isla

  I was being a total liar.

  As we walked on every bit of my being was dedicated to looking cool and calm and totally not like I’d just managed to sweet-talk a mule—a mule that very well could’ve put a hoof right into my butt at any moment—into compliance.

  But if Adam could look unflappable, so could I. Tame a mule? All in a day’s work. Barely even broke a sweat. Then again, knowing Adam he was probably able to see right through me.

  Against my best efforts, a laugh slipped past my lips.

  “Something funny?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just…”

  “Come on,” he said, nudging me gently with his elbow. “Let’s hear it.”

  “You promise you won’t be mad?” I asked.

  He gave me a sly grin before responding.

  “I guess you’ll have to tell me and then find out.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but another laugh came out instead of words.

  “Sorry,” I said, composing myself. “It’s just…when you tried to grab the mule…”

  “Oh, no,” he said, knowing where I was going with it.

  “And you…you looked like you were trying to give it a hug or something. And then it just kicked you off like it was nothing.”

  Red flashed on my face followed by panic in my gut. I’d just told the boss I was laughing at him possibly getting hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” I quickly added. “I know I shouldn’t be laughing.”

  But true to form, Adam was unbothered.

  “You think my technique was off?” he asked with a smile.

  “Maybe just a little,” I said. “Those mules are tougher than they look.”

  “Believe me,” he said. “Now I know.”

  “Just thought you could grab that thing and wrestle to the ground, huh?” I asked, pleased that he was able to see the humor in it.

  “You know me,” he said. “I like to tackle problems head-on.”

  He was right about that. He’d taken on the problem of the mule in the most head-on way possible.

  “But you’re not hurt, right?” I asked. “I’d feel terrible laughing about this if you were in pain.”

  “Well,” he said, reaching around and clapping his hand onto his butt—a very nicely shaped butt, I might add. “I landed right here on the cobblestones. But it hurt more in the moment.”

  “And then there’s the matter of your shirt…”

  I glanced down at the long tear in the side of his expensive-looking button-up. The rip was big enough to expose his body underneath, giving me a teasing glimpse of his trim, toned abs. It was enough to make my mouth water even more than the dinner had, and I had to use all my restraint to not ogle.

  “Huh?” he asked, glancing down.

  He noticed what I was referring to and pulled at it a bit, now giving me a glimpse of his cut sides and chest.

  Damn, Isla. Stop staring!

  “I was wondering where that breeze was coming from,” he said.

  Then he turned his attention down to my feet.

  “And you didn’t get out of this unscathed.”

  “Huh?”

  I glanced down at the ground, me now being the one unsure of what the other was talking about. Then I spotted it. My shoes were a total mess, dirty and one of the short heels broken on the rig
ht shoe. And now that I actually was paying attention, I realized that I was walking with a slight limp as a result of the broken heel.

  “Wow,” I said. “I must’ve wrecked these things trying to catch up with that guy. How on earth did I not notice?”

  “Adrenaline,” he said. “Same reason I barely felt landing on my behind.”

  I stopped and undid the straps of my shoes, taking them off and slinging them over my shoulder as I walked.

  “Careful,” he said.

  I didn’t break stride, the cobblestones of the road cool underneath my feet.

  “It’s actually kind of nice,” I said with a smile. “You should try it.”

  He regarded me with a curious expression. Then, without saying a word, he squatted down and began taking off his shoes.

  “Shoeless solidarity,” he said as he stuffed his socks into his shoes and stood up.

  He stopped where he stood, stepping in place.

  “You’re right,” he said. “This is kind of nice.”

  Another warm smile, one that made the rest of the world melt away around me.

  “And good to know you’re fine with all sorts of shoe mishaps,” he said. “Broken heels, mismatched pairs…”

  I let out another laugh, remembering how I’d been dressed when we’d met.

  “Oh, my God,” I said. “I’m still so embarrassed about that.”

  “Don’t be,” he said. “One red and one green was very fitting for the holiday.”

  It felt good to know he saw the humor in it, but man was I still cringing.

  “Frantic morning out the door, I suppose,” I said.

  “It happens to the best of us.”

  I glanced down at Adam’s feet as we continued on, trying to imagine him heading out the door with a pair of mismatched shoes. I couldn’t do it—the man was too well-put-together. Just seeing him barefoot like that, a giant rip down the side of his expensive shirt, was already weird enough. Adam seemed like the kind of man who’d come out of the womb wearing a suit.

  We continued on, and my mental image of baby Adam dressed to the nines stayed in my head. I had to suppress a smile—I didn’t want him to think anything else about him was making me chuckle. I’d given the guy enough of the business for one day. Then again, he hadn’t been scared to give it right back. And I loved it.

  But then I was thinking about his family. What kind of upbringing had he had? He knew about mine, but I knew very little about his. The wine was still in my head, and I could feel my curiosity growing by the second.

  Off in the distance the soft sounds of music drifted toward us.

  “Hear that?” he asked. “Sounds like Christmas carols. Want to check it out before we head back?”

  “Sounds great,” I said with a smile.

  We continued on toward the music, which appeared to be coming from the other side of the row of buildings ahead of us, and soon arrived at a large plaza with a crowd gathered, a large fountain in the center surrounded by statues of serious-looking men in military outfits.

  “Must be the town square,” he said. “Probably one of the oldest places in the city by the looks of it. Come on.”

  The crowd was gathered in front of several rows of children, all no older than their early teens. And sure enough, they were singing Christmas carols. They were all in Portuguese, of course, but I was so familiar with them that no interpretation was necessary.

  Adam and I sat on a stone bench a little off in the distance, saying nothing for a time as we watched the children sing a lovely rendition of “Silent Night.” It was so strange—despite the distance from home and the warm air and everything else, at that moment it really, truly felt like Christmas.

  And my curiosity about Adam still lingered.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  He turned his attention toward me.

  “Sure,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

  “How come you’re not with family for the holiday?”

  I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. I’d been so blunt that I couldn’t believe it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “That was a really personal question to ask. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

  “No,” he said. “It’s fine. And it’s only fair. I sort of grilled you about your family, right?”

  He did have a point.

  “But just because I’m okay talking with it doesn’t mean you are,” I said. “I don’t want to pry.”

  “Not prying,” he said. “It’s a perfectly reasonable question.”

  He turned his attention back to the carolers, that same thoughtful expression returning to his face. I had the sense he was trying to figure out where to begin.

  “I’m like you,” he said. “I lost family at a young age.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said by reflex.

  “Thank you,” he replied. “But unlike you I didn’t lose both parents. Though it certainly felt like it at the time.”

  I was curious as to what he meant by that. But I said nothing.

  “My father died when I was ten. Heart attack. The doctors said it was a rare condition, but if you ask me, it was because the man spent nearly every waking moment at work. I don’t hold this against him, though. I knew he cared about nothing more than taking care of my mother and me and that was his way of showing it.”

  He went on.

  “My mother took his death hard. And she coped with it in a way that I wasn’t comfortable with in the slightest—by remarrying after no more than a few months had passed.”

  “That must’ve been hard for you,” I said. “One moment your dad’s with you, the next there’s someone new.”

  He nodded.

  “Exactly. Mom said it was because I needed a male figure in my life, tried to act as though she was only doing it for me. But even then I knew it was because it was her way of refusing to cope with what had happened. She tried to fill the void as quickly as possible.”

  “Your stepfather,” I said. “Was he a good man?”

  “He was a hard man,” he said, not missing a beat. “Military background. Didn’t believe in a ‘soft touch’ when it came to raising boys. Nothing abusive, mind you, but nothing loving in the slightest. It was his way of toughening me up, as he said.”

  “But you still had your mom,” I said. “That’s something.”

  “True,” he said. “But because she’d refused to cope with the loss of my father, she devoted all her energy into making sure her new man would never leave. Meaning all of her attention was on him—all she cared about was getting him to stick around. And before too long this meant that I was nothing more than a distraction from that.”

  “What happened?” I asked, knowing he was likely about to get to it but too curious to stop myself.

  “My stepfather went to a military academy when he was younger, thought this was the best place for a boy to grow up. So, when I turned thirteen, I was shipped off.”

  Adam in military school. It was hard to imagine at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made a certain kind of sense. Maybe that’s where he’d learned how to be so in control?

  “They were good years,” he said. “I made some friends, had a good education. But I couldn’t shake the idea that I’d been cast aside in some way. So, I channeled my frustration into school, getting top grades, and staying busy with sports and other extracurricular activities until I went off to college.”

  He turned his attention back to the carolers once again, as if gathering his energy.

  “After that I decided to make my fortune in Silicon Valley. Made my first million at twenty-four, and then all the rest followed.”

  “And what about your mom?” I asked. “Is she proud of you?”

  He shrugged.

  “Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t. Her life is still all about my stepfather, and the two of them spend most of their time jet-setting across the globe. I call her maybe twice a year, once on Mother’s Day and once on
her birthday. The conversations rarely last more than a couple minutes.”

  “So that’s why you said it felt like you’d lost both parents?”

  He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips that suggested he was pleased that I understood.

  “I don’t blame her or hold any bitterness, of course. My dad died so suddenly, and I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for her. She didn’t cope in the best way, but she’s only human. We all are.”

  He took a long, slow breath, as if letting out the tension of the topic.

  “Thank you for telling me,” I said.

  At that moment I noticed something, something warm in my hand. I glanced down and saw with shock that I had, without thinking, taken Adam’s hand as he’d been speaking. I let out a gasp and pulled my hand away at the sight.

  “Sorry,” I said, mortified. “Just, um, force of habit whenever a friend is telling me something personal and difficult.”

  If he was bothered at all, he sure didn’t show it.

  “It’s fine,” he said with a smile. “Now, you ready to head back?”

  I was, and after a few more moments of watching the carolers, we were off, the warmth of his skin against mine as fresh and present as the warm air around me.

  Chapter 13

  Isla

  The rest of the walk passed in silence. But it was a good silence, the kind you can share with someone you’re comfortable enough with to not feel as though you have to fill the air with words. I couldn’t help but shake the idea that there was a closeness between Adam and me, one that had happened more quickly than either of us had imagined.

  Then again, maybe it was all in my head. Maybe Adam was only being accommodating and respectful and friendly. But on the other hand, I had the distinct impression that he didn’t tell just anyone about his past.

  Still, I knew it was something that I really shouldn’t have been dwelling on. The day after tomorrow we’d be back in California, him on the top floor me and me on mine, maybe the two of us sharing a chat if we happened to end up on the same elevator together—hopefully with me wearing matching shoes this time.