Home for the Holiday

by Wendy Stone

  Now I could finally look back and admit that even during the foul state of mind I was in after the ruined wedding there had been relief. A small voice in my head pleased that I wouldn't have to work so hard to be perfect for a man who was never satisfied.

  "What are you thinking?” Nicky whispered in my ear.

  "How glad I am that Bekka got pregnant and that she and Steven got married.” The words just popped out of my mouth. I couldn't stop them.

  "I could have kissed her when she came running up the aisle, that pregnancy test wand clutched in her hand.” He chuckled. “She was waving that thing around so wildly I'm surprised no one got stuck in the eye with it."

  "Why would you have kissed her?” I asked softly, the sound of the chainsaw drowning out our conversation. The others couldn't hear.

  "You can't tell me you don't know, Kenna. God, everybody else and their brothers know how I feel about you.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I could have kissed Bekka that day because she gave me the one thing I wanted most in my life, a chance to have you as my own.” He took my hand, pulling me along with him as he walked back toward the sleigh. “We need to talk,” he said, waving his hand back at my dad when he told us not to stray too far.

  My mind was spiraling. Nicky wanted me. It was a giddying thought. “You want me?"

  For just a moment, the trees were gone and I was inside the huge Catholic Church in downtown Lapeer, a beautiful monstrosity of a place with towers and stained glass, bells playing to ring out the call for the witnesses to come to the ceremony. There was a room just off the entrance of the church where I'd gone to get ready, dragging on the huge confection of lace and satin that Steven had picked out. I had wanted simple, elegant, and small. He'd wanted the whole she-bang. I could barely move in that dress, much less look as graceful and beautiful he'd told me I'd be.

  I'd been pacing back and forth inside the little room, waiting for my cue, wondering if I was doing the right thing. So many doubts had flown through my mind, one amongst them sticking out the most. Did I love Steven? Looking back, I now know I didn't.

  Nicky had knocked on the door, pushing it open upon my call. He'd been so handsome in his dove gray suit with a black and gray striped tie. For a moment, I'd just stared at him, wishing it were him I was going to walk down that aisle to meet. Then I pushed the thought aside, feeling incredibly guilty.

  "What is it, Nicky?” I asked when he stood in the doorway just staring at me.

  "Y-You look like a cupcake,” he said, then looked into my face. “I'm sorry, it's just, I always thought you'd go for something more simple ... you didn't pick it out, did you?"

  "No, Steven did.” He couldn't know how angry it had made me that Steven hadn't even let me make that decision for the wedding. He'd said go try it on, I had and that had been that.

  "I should have known,” Nicky scoffed.

  "You didn't just come in here to insult my dress and my husband-to-be, did you Nicky?"

  "No, that was the last thing I meant to do, Kenna. I-I just had to...” he glanced behind him, realizing he still stood in the doorway. Pushing away from the door, he closed it and walked over to where I was standing. I had to stand. I had no idea how to sit down in that dress.

  "You had to what, Nicky?” I urged, glancing at the clock. I knew that the ceremony was set to start at three and it was just a few minutes before that now. “Can it wait until after the ceremony?"

  "No!” He took a deep breath, coming closer and lifting my cold hand in his. “Do you really want to marry him, Kenna?"

  "What are you going on about, Nicky? Why would I have said yes if I didn't want to marry him?"

  Inside, a rush of nerves upset my stomach and I thought for a moment I was going to be sick. Oh that would have topped it, walking down the aisle in my vomit-stained dress. I took some deep breaths, turning my back to Nicky so he wouldn't see how badly I was shaking.

  "I don't know, Kenna. Maybe you're afraid no one else will want you or that you'll be alone the rest of your life. If you love Steven and want to be with him, then I'll walk out now and leave you and your new husband be. If not..."

  The knock on the door came at precisely three o'clock. I knew it was my father, come to walk me down the aisle. “I'm marrying Steven, Nick.” Picking up my bouquet, I opened the door and tried to smile for my father but I felt cold inside, half dead—as if I'd just lost out on something special and I didn't even know it.

  Ten minutes later, the doors at the front of the church had burst open and Bekka had rushed up the aisle, the pregnancy test wand in her hand with the word pregnant in bold blue.

  * * * *

  "Where did you go?” Nicky asked, lifting me easily and setting me on the back end of the sleigh.

  "My wedding day, when you came into that room and called me a cupcake ... what did you really want to say to me?"

  Nick chuckled. “You did look like a cupcake, all white with big swirls. Your red hair looked like the cherry on top."

  "You aren't earning brownie points here, boy,” I growled. “Talk. Tell me what you really wanted to say to me that day."

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  Chapter Six

  Nicky stared up at me, his eyes showing a strange hint of fear.

  "Tell me, Nicky,” I pleaded. “Please?"

  "Why do you want to know now?” he asked. “Then you could barely take two minutes to listen to what I had to say. You were in such an all fire hurry to get down the aisle to your cheating louse of a fiancé."

  "I was an idiot. God! What an idiot. I should have listened to you, Nicky. I'm listening now, doesn't that count?"

  "Yes,” he said, but it was grudgingly given. His eyes were downcast and I hated that he seemed not to want to look at me. Reaching out, I touched his face, tracing the line of his eyebrows then down his nose. My hands cupped his cheeks, drawing his face up so that I could see his eyes. For the first time ever, the blue of his gaze seemed shuttered, as if he were hiding his true self from me. That hurt worse than Steven's duplicity.

  "Nicky, please, whatever you want to say, I want to hear it.” His eyes shot to my face and he seemed to be weighing the truth of my words. I took a deep breath and went for broke. “Don't you know how much I l-love you?"

  "You love me?” he asked, a glitter of emotion filling his beautiful eyes. “Like a friend?"

  "Yes,” I said, seeing disappointment in his face. “And no."

  Nicky moved forward, coming up against my knees so that I opened them, allowing him even closer. “You're going to have to explain that, Kenna."

  "I do love you as a friend,” I said, my voice lowering as I heard my family heading our way. “You are my best friend, but it's more than that.” I paused, beginning to panic because they were getting closer and I hadn't told him the most important thing yet.

  "More how?” he asked, turning my face to his when I looked in search of the rest of the family. “Kenna, you can't leave it at more than that. I have to know, what do you mean?"

  "I'm in love with you, Nicky,” I whispered. “I have been for a while now."

  "Say it again,” he ordered.

  "I'm in love with you,” I said, obediently.

  He reached for me, pulling me off the sleigh and into his arms as my family gathered around us. With a shout of joy, he whirled me around, tripping over something to fall into the snow.

  "Somebody got into the egg nog early,” Mara said, glancing over where Nicky had rolled so that we were out of the way. They were tying the tree onto the toboggan and stashing the chainsaw with it.

  Alex nudged her with his elbow. Nicky was kissing me as if he'd never stop. Not that I minded, of course. I was holding onto him just as fiercely. “Can I get some of that egg nog?” Alex asked.

  Mara laughed but her face flushed beneath the red caused by the cold.

  "All right, you two,” Dad called as he helped the rest back into the sleigh, picking Adair up and tossing her into the hay. “Knock it off before I go get
the hose."

  Nicky lifted his head, glancing over at my father before looking back down at me. “You really love me?” he asked softly, brushing snow off my cheek.

  "Yes,” I nodded my head, lifting it for another of his devastating kisses. Instead, I jerked when he got up, reaching out a hand to pull me up.

  "Sorry about that, sir,” Nicky said, coming up to the back of the sleigh with me in tow. “You're daughter finally got her head out of her ass."

  "It's about damn time,” Daddy said.

  "What?!” I managed to choke out. “What do you mean by that?"

  "We'll discuss it later. I want to get back home before your mother begins to worry. You know how she gets,” Daddy said, grabbing me around my waist and tossing me into the hay just like he had Adair. Nick got up behind me and Dad went to untie the horses, climbing up on his high seat. “You all ready? Ian, you keep an eye on the tree. We don't want it getting away from us.” Ian nodded, sitting on the back gate of the sleigh, his eyes fixed on the toboggan. He jerked a bit as Dad started us off.

  It was just beginning to get dark as we left the pass. Dad lit the oil lanterns that hung on the sides of the sleigh. The horses knew the way and all Daddy had to do was to give them their heads. They knew that a warm stall and a measure of grain waited for them when they got home and they were eager to get it.

  The bells jingled merrily as huge snowflakes fell from the darkening sky. Nicky leaned back against a hay bale, pulling me in front of him so I rested against his chest. His legs were on either side of my hips and he grabbed one of our blankets, pulling it over the two of us. I was warm, comfortable and confused as hell.

  He'd never said it back. He'd seemed happy to hear that I loved him but where were the words I'd wanted to hear for so long? Why hadn't he said them? Didn't he feel the same?

  "You're thinking again,” he whispered into my ear.

  "Yeah, so?” I answered, feeling a bit confrontational. “Why shouldn't I?"

  "Because every time you think too much, you end up talking yourself out of what you want. Then you regret it down the road. So stop. We'll talk when we get back to your house, okay?"

  "No, it's not okay.” I turned my head to see his face in the dim light cast by the lanterns. “I bared my soul to you out here and all I get is that I finally got my head out of my ass? Fuck that, buddy.” My famous Irish temper raised its ugly head and I tried to scoot to get away from him, but he held on tight.

  "Let go of me,” I hissed.

  "Kenna, just hang on a second,” Nicky said, trying to settle me down.

  "No, let go of me or lose your hand.” I stared down at his hand until he moved it off of me, letting me move away from him. Going to the side of the sleigh, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at anyone who tried to talk to me.

  The lights of the house couldn't have been more welcome. I jumped from the sleigh before Dad had the horses stopped and went around to help hold their heads while he got everyone down and into the house. Nicky stood helplessly, staring at me, but I wouldn't look at him. I was too angry.

  My father came out, nodding at Nicky. Then he came to my side. “I'm perfectly capable of taking care of the horses. You've got a man over there who loves you. Go talk to him."

  "He doesn't love me, Daddy.” I felt the first tear slide down my face and wiped it away furiously.

  "Did you give him a chance to tell you so? The man's been in love with you for a long time, sweetie. Way before that ass Steven screwed with you and Bekka. He's a good man, baby, give him a chance.” He put his arm around me, pushing me toward Nicky. “Why don't you go and show him the gazebo on the pond? Your momma made me put lights up on it and it's really pretty out there now."

  I angrily swiped away a couple more tears then reached into the sleigh and grabbed the blanket we'd been using. Going to Nicky's side, I barely looked at him. “Come on,” I said, taking the path that led to the side porch, but walking around the house instead of going inside. Out behind the house was a huge pond that my dad had kept stocked with fish since I was little. One summer, Mom had come up with the idea of a gazebo in the center of the pond. A place to sit in the evenings to watch the fish feed and to do some fishing. It had taken my father all summer to figure out how to build it and the bridge to it so that it would neither be destroyed by winter ice or sink during the summer. But he'd done it and now it sat out there, lit up with tiny fairy lights twinkling in the snowy night.

  "That's pretty,” Nicky said, reaching for my hand. I let him take it, though I still held myself away from him. There was a fence around the pond now. Mom had insisted after Ian had been born. She didn't want to worry about the pond and a curious little boy. I went to the gate, unlatching it and holding it open for Nicky to go through.

  There was a path around the pond that would take you into the woods behind the house. We had our playhouse back there, one I'd heard Ian had turned into a fort. The thought made me smile. A fort with pink lacy curtains couldn't be too intimidating.

  I led the way across the bridge, careful to not lose my footing on the slick boards. I knew the pond had iced over, but you could never be sure how safe the ice was and I didn't want to go into the water.

  Momma had put cushions on the wooden benches that circled the gazebo. I brushed the snow off one of them and sank down on the cold plastic. “It's Christmas Eve,” I said suddenly, staring up at the night sky and watching the big fluffy flakes of snow coming down. “There's supposed to be something magical about a Christmas snow."

  "Kenna,” Nicky said softly. He'd stopped after stepping into the shelter, watching me, trying to gauge my mood. “When I went into that room before your wedding, I wanted to ask ... well, maybe beg would be a better word. I wanted to beg you to let me have a chance to love you, to show you how much I loved you. I wanted you to see that I was better for you than Steven. That I didn't care about dresses or pretense or what you ate. I wanted you happy and I thought I could do a better job of it than he had."

  I felt another tear slip down my cheek. “Why didn't you?"

  "Because as soon as I opened my mouth, your father knocked on the door. You seemed to be in such a hurry to leave me and go to him; I had to give up any hope that I could convince you I was the right man for you."

  Remembering, I pictured his face as I took my father's arm that day. The pain in his eyes took my breath away. I rose from the bench, crossing to him and wrapping my arms around him. “You do love me?” I asked, holding my breath as I waited for his answer.

  "I've loved you from the first moment I walked into the 911 bullpen and you looked up and smiled at me. It was like I got hit by lightning, Kenna.” He cupped my face, his lips moving over my tear-streaked cheeks. “Don't cry, baby,” he whispered. “Don't cry. I love you."

  He held me close, swaying gently from side to side, as if rocking me. I'm not sure when tender and care became passion and want, but his lips found mine, his hands sneaking under my coat and trailing over my bare skin. My jacket was unzipped and the sweater I wore under it was unbuttoned, leaving my bra as the only defense against his searching hands.

  It was little defense and I moaned as his bare hands covered me, playing with my nipples even as he moaned against my mouth. Lifting his head, he smiled down at my flushed face, my eyes hazy with passion. He took my hand, leading me back over to the bench I'd just left. Sinking down, he wrapped the discarded blanket around my shoulders, pulling me down to straddle his lap. “I want to make love to you,” he said, his voice husky and deep, resonating inside of me.

  "Yes,” I breathed, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside me again. I felt his hands around my back, felt them fumbling with my bra and that slight give when it fell loose. He pulled it up, exposing my breasts to his eyes.

  My pale skin seemed to glow in the twinkling fairy lights. My nipples looked pink and full, hard in the cold air. I shivered and he pulled me closer, his lips parting and taking one cold bud into the fiery heat of his mouth. I gasped at t
he pleasure, my legs clasping his hips, my jean-covered crotch grinding against his. His hair was cold and silky between my fingers as I held him tight, the pleasure from his suckling sending my head back, tiny whimpering cries coming from between my lips.

  His mouth moved to my other nipple, his hand playing with the one he'd left. “You're going to make me insane,” I cried.

  "Good,” he mumbled around the hard morsel of my flesh in his mouth. “Now you'll know how I've felt the past six months. I never wanted a woman so badly who couldn't open her eyes to see how I felt. I thought you were mourning the loss of Steven. I didn't want to be rebound man."

  "Oh God, Nicky, for you to be rebound man, there would have had to been something there to rebound from. I never loved Steven. I know that now. I just used him."

  "Used him for what? Couldn't be sex. From what I've heard, he was never very good at it.” As he spoke, his fingers went to the button on my jeans, yanking it open and pulling down my zipper. His hand slid inside, his fingers brushing against the satin of the panties I was wearing.

  "I was using him so that I had someone. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was so lonely, Nicky. I was so far away from my family and the only people I knew were those I worked with.” I gasped as he pulled aside the waistband of my panties, sliding his fingers against my skin and then into the heat of my sex. He brushed against my clit and I felt the first surges of pleasure. “Oh God,” I cried, grinding down against his fingers.

  "Lift up, baby, take your leg out of here.” He pulled one leg out of my jeans and panties, letting them hang off the other. How he got them over my boots, I'll never know. I decided to just let it be, part of the magic of the night. I reached down and helped him with his jeans, opening his zipper and delving under it to find the hardness of him. He filled my palm to overflowing, so hard yet so soft at the same time. I rubbed my thumb across the tip of his cock, gathering the almost clear fluid on my fingers. While he watched, I brought it to my lips, tasting his essence. It was salty and slightly bitter, but the look on his face as he watched made what I did worth doing again.