Jingle Bell Bride

by Jillian Hart

  “I’ve never been a princess before,” she admitted. “Not sure I’m princess quality.”

  “You absolutely are.” Michael’s baritone rumbled over her, deep and resonant and as familiar as if she’d been listening to it her entire life. He whipped out his cell and tapped in a text with an industrious bend of his head. Probably work related.

  “Chelsea, you live in the kingdom next door,” Macie explained, the pom-pom on top of her knit hat bobbing up and down as she bounced, her enthusiasm too great to be contained. “We could be neighbors.”

  “Cool.” Her make-believe skills might be rusty, but that didn’t stop her from joining in. “It was very nice of you to drive all this way to pick me up, Princess Macie.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Princess Chelsea.” Macie settled herself regally on the seat. “Welcome to the royal carriage.”

  “Yes, welcome.” Michael’s hand caught hers, helping her into the sleigh and onto the seat beside him.

  “Thanks.” Try to ignore the steely, masculine arm pressed against hers, she told herself. But the more she tried, the more aware of him she became. Aware of the strength of his muscles, the tractor beam of his presence and the fact that they were breathing in synchrony. The white clouds of breath wafted upward in irrefutable proof.

  Maybe she’d better think of something other than Michael. The sleigh, the driver, the horses—anything would be a better topic. “Uh—this is a great way to travel. Macie, I love the jingle bells.”

  “They are royal jingle bells. Very special.” Macie lowered her chin with a slow, dignified dip to equal any queen’s. “Do you know what? We’re going on an adventure.”

  “Awesome. I love adventures. Especially if they are well planned out. I like to plan.” Maybe it was time to remind herself of that. Big time. “I’m a stick-to-the-plans kind of girl.”

  “Oh, I’ve got it all figured out.” Macie swung her booted feet. “We’re going to the far glaciers to see wild polar bears.”

  “Really? I should have brought my warmer coat.”

  “And when we’re done, we’re coming back for tea and cookies.” Macie leaned back against the seat. “Then Dad is gonna put up the lights.”

  “Sounds like a very g-good plan to me.” Her words came out shaky, as if the sleigh were bouncing over ruts in the road. Except there were no ruts. And it was all Michael’s fault. She knew just who to blame, especially since his arm pressed against hers with such force she could hardly think. Don’t think about him, think about Macie’s imaginary adventure. “I’m not sure I want to see polar bears. They might be hungry, see us and think, great. Supper.”

  “Nope. My servants put a bag of polar bear food in the back.” Macie nodded confidently. “We’ll be safe.”

  “Do you know the best way to keep polar b-bears from h-hunting you?” Chelsea’s teeth started chattering and she wished it was because of the biting cold wind. She really, really did. She felt Michael shift on the seat beside her, drawing her thoughts away from polar bears. Focus, Chelsea. “Singing soothes them. They particularly like Christmas carols.”

  “Really? Like which ones?” This was apparently news to Macie. “Like ‘Jingle Bells’?”

  “Especially ‘Jingle B-bells.’” Boy, were her teeth really chattering. She clenched her molars together and yet all they did was rattle. “D-dashing thr-rough the sn-snow—”

  “You seem to be cold.” Michael spoke low against her ear.

  “I’m f-fine,” she stuttered.

  “—in a one-horse soapin’ sleigh—” Macie chimed sweetly.

  “It’s open sleigh,” Chelsea leaned over to whisper and that’s when it happened. Michael’s arm slid around her shoulders, capturing her, holding her close.

  “Maybe this will help.” He tucked her against his side.

  Help? How was this helping? He was warm and cozy, like a crackling hearth on a winter’s day, and solid just the way a dream man should be.

  “—over the fields we go,” Macie sang. “Laughing all the way.”

  “Isn’t this a little cozy for us, since we’re coworkers?” she whispered because her larynx had decided to stop working properly. Call an otolaryngologist. “I mean it’s a little snug.”

  “True, but it’s cold outside.” Unperturbed, his arm remained hooked around her shoulders. She could feel the intake of his breath, which continued to match hers.

  “Bells on bobtowers ring—” Macie continued on, adorably oblivious that the word was bobtail. “Making spirits bright—”

  My spirit is very bright, Chelsea thought, and outshining the sun, even if that sun was drifting behind swift moving clouds. If only she could stop leaning into him, but she couldn’t. She relaxed, letting go, simply savoring the moment of feeling safe and protected. Being with him was, well, amazing.

  “What fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight,” Macie belted out. Airy snowflakes began to fall like pieces of heavenly grace.

  “Oh, jingle bells...” Michael’s baritone rumbled through her, as if the words were hers, as if spoken with her breath. She’d never felt so close to anyone before.

  “J-jingle b-bells,” she tried to sing but all she could see was Michael. Michael and his kindness, Michael and his strength, Michael the man she l—

  No, not the “L” word! she told herself firmly. Absolutely not. That one life-changing word was totally not allowed. Completely off-limits. Banished from her thoughts in regards to Michael forevermore.

  “Jingle all the way.” Macie snuggled up on Chelsea’s other side as the sleigh left the town behind. Their three voices, baritone, alto and soprano, rose on a gust of wind, as snowflakes caught on their eyelashes. Macie finished up the song. “...in a one horse soapin’ sleigh.”

  “Bravo.” Chelsea clapped her mitten hands. “Excellent. We could go on the road.”

  “We are on a road,” Macie pointed out.

  “As a band.” Michael laughed. Chelsea’s merriment was infectious and it seeped into him strong enough to drive out the cold.

  “I’m not so sure about your dad.” She eyed him dubiously. “Can you see him onstage?”

  Macie furrowed her brow, studying him carefully. “Nope.”

  “Me, either,” Chelsea agreed. “That means it’ll be just the two of us, Macie. You and me on tour, garnering recognition and fame.”

  “The Two Princesses,” he offered. Not that he was given to whimsy, but he could play along. “Maybe you two don’t have to shut me out completely. I could be your manager.”

  “No, I think we could do better,” Chelsea quipped, so darling with her pink cheeks from the wind and snowflakes dotting her hair like glitter. Never had he seen anyone more incredible. His arm tightened around her just a little, drawing her closer against him just an inch more. Could she tell? Had he revealed his feelings?

  “But you could still be my dad,” Macie informed him, cute as a button.

  “Thanks, baby.” Something strange was happening to him, something he couldn’t stop. Because of Chelsea tucked against him, slight and sweet, affection crept through his chest, starting with a pure white glow and building until it was all he could feel.

  “We wish you a merry Christmas—” Chelsea began in her dulcet alto.

  Macie took up the second line and belted it out like a pro. The two females sang above the constant, joyous ring of the sleigh bells as the Wyoming countryside flew by. Sprawling white fields, the golden light of an occasional house looking cozy in th
e snowfall and the endless white veil reaching from earth all the way to heaven.

  He couldn’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon as he joined in singing.

  * * *

  Well, it was tough to ignore his arm around her, Chelsea thought as the sleigh came to a stop in the snowy field next to the riding stable’s parking lot. Very tough, indeed. And it was nearly impossible not to read anything into the gesture, especially since he didn’t move away. They sat there, cuddled together in the falling snow as Macie bounced to her feet.

  “See? I told you, Macie.” Natalie set down her reins. “Big-time fun, right?”

  “Right!” The girl hopped to the ground with a two-footed landing. “My favorite part was the penguins.”

  “True, but it was a good thing the polar bears didn’t try to catch us for dinner,” Natalie gamely answered, climbing down, too.

  There was nothing else to do. Time to get up and move away from Michael. Chelsea leaned forward, found her feet and shoved off the seat. His warmth seemed to cling to her as she landed in the snow behind Macie, who was retelling their adventure in the wilds of the Arctic as princesses (and their personal doctor) while Natalie listened raptly.

  “She’s so cute,” Natalie mouthed.

  Chelsea nodded. No argument there. Michael came up beside her and settled his hand on Macie’s shoulder.

  “C’mon, let’s trek to the car, cutie.” He gently steered her toward the parking lot and the SUV lightly draped in white. “Chelsea, we’ll take you home.”

  “No, that’s all right.” Warning bells sounded in her head. She wanted to be near to him, to hear the warmth knell in his voice, to admire the lean lines of his chiseled face, to be snuggled close to him once again with his comfort surrounding her— Oops, now the alarm bells were clanging louder. “I’ll call home. Someone will come pick me up.”

  “No need. We can take you.” He casually pulled his keys from his pocket.

  “No, that’s too much tr-trouble.” There she went, stuttering again. The man simply overwhelmed her. “Besides, I need to call a tow truck.”

  “It’s already done.”

  “What?” Her foot sank into a sinkhole in the snow and his gloved hand closed around her elbow, catching her, keeping her steady, not letting her fall. What about your plan, Chelsea? Remember your no-man plan? Five years, career, no man. Not one. Not even this one. Especially not this one.

  “I texted a former patient’s father. He runs a garage in town.” Michael escorted her to his SUV. “He’s probably sent you a text. Get in, you can come with us.”

  “She can sit in back with me, Daddy,” Macie offered, bounding over.

  “No, she’s sitting up front with me.” He swung open the door for her.

  Chelsea fumbled onto the seat, numb from what surely was not the cold temperature of the day. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t blink, she wasn’t sure she could breathe. She listened to him close her door and open Macie’s. She couldn’t move a single muscle. Not even an eyelid. Dazed, that’s what this was. Overwhelmed by the man.

  “Do you know what?” Macie asked as she struggled to buckle her seat belt. “Dad’s gonna put up the lights next.”

  “You mean you haven’t got them up yet?” Chelsea caught Michael’s grimace in the side mirror. “Slacker.”

  “Can’t deny it.” He shut his daughter’s door, effectively ending the conversation. He picked it up again after he dropped behind the steering wheel. “Between one thing and another, I haven’t had the chance.”

  “Excuses, excuses.”

  “Tell me about it.” He turned the key, the engine purred to a start and his gaze held hers.

  In those icy-blue depths she thought she saw a spark of caring and affection, but it disappeared in a blink. Had she imagined it, or had it been real? How could she be sure it wasn’t just wishful thinking? And the fact that she was wishing was a shocker.

  “It’s time. No more excuses.” He turned on the wipers and they swished powdered snow off the windshield. “This afternoon it is. I’ve already honed my skills helping with your family’s lights, so I’m good to go. I can whip them up, no problem, especially if I have an assistant.”

  “Macie?” Chelsea arched a slim brow at him. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea. Isn’t she really young for that?”

  “I was thinking about you.” The words popped out, blithely and casually, as if this wasn’t the biggest mistake he’d made in years. He should be panicking.

  “Me? Why me?” Amusement played in the corners of her pretty mouth. “What did I do to deserve that?”

  “I’ll never tell.” Taking her home should be his first priority, but what did he do? At the end of the stable’s long driveway he turned left heading home instead of right toward hers.

  “Really, Daddy?” Macie’s voice rose higher, full of joy. “Chelsea’s really comin’ home with us? You’ve got to see my room and our Christmas tree and Grammy picked me up some stickers. I don’t have an awesome collection, but I have some glittery ones.”

  “That sounds like fun. You know I love stickers.”

  “I do,” Macie nodded emphatically.

  Chelsea. Why she affected his heart remained a mystery. But it happened every time he was near her. The flying snow shined neon white and the wintry world appeared so blindingly perfect he wondered why he hadn’t noticed before. It was like suddenly putting on a pair of rose-colored glasses. Chelsea was doing this to him. Letting this happen was a mistake, but the thought of turning around and taking her home and saying goodbye to her—no, that was one thing he wanted to put off as long as possible. He arched one brow instead. “I hear you’re good with a ladder.”

  “You heard wrong, buster. Really, I’m a better supervisor. You know, from the ground. Calling out orders to the grunt on the rungs?” Mirth made her eyes more violet than blue. Stunning.

  Keep your gaze on the road, not on the woman. “Sorry, I don’t need a supervisor. I’m looking for an equal partner. Someone to climb up with me. Fair is fair. I assisted you, now you assist me.”

  “No good deed goes unpunished?”

  “I wouldn’t say this is punishment exactly. It’s the Christmas season. It’s time for good deeds.”

  “And for miracles.” She leaned back against the leather seat, looking like a miracle of goodness and beauty. “Good thing for you, I’m in a Christmas mood.”

  “Me, too.” The words slipped out, true and straight from his soul. His mood did seem bright, brighter than ever, as he steered the SUV around a sweeping corner, taking them home.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chelsea glanced down the residential street, not surprised by the beautiful new homes decked with good cheer and Christmas decorations. “I don’t even have to ask which house is yours.”

  “No lights. It’s a dead giveaway.”

  “No kidding.” Every other house glowed and gleamed except for a dark shadowy structure at the end of the cul-de-sac. He wheeled into the driveway and hit the garage remote.

  Wow. She peered up at the stately brick Tudor. “All those gables and arches. This is a perfect house for twinkle lights, although not as easy to light as my family’s house.”

  “True.” He leaned forward to study it, too. “Maybe we should start with the easiest part.”

  “Which would be?”

  “The garage.”

  Okay, she really shouldn’t be so intrigued by him. “Good idea. How about I do the garage? That will leave you to do the g
ables of the second story.”

  “Deal.” He motored into the garage, out of the gently falling snow and shut off the engine. He unclicked his belt, drawing her attention to his strong, perfectly shaped hands. Healing hands.

  He’s a doctor, she reminded herself as she opened her door and hopped down, remembering one of the first items on her dream man list. Not a doctor. Mostly because Nick had been studying to be a doctor, too, but that didn’t change the fact. Michael was a doctor. Right there, that should put him on her no way list.

  It was ridiculous, because he was on her no way list. Intellectually she knew that, but tell that to her heart. The shivery feeling returned as he brushed close, watching her help Macie down from the backseat. She felt his presence like the other half of her soul.

  “Let’s go in and warm up.” The low notes of his voice had become familiar, the sound she most wanted to hear. His hand settled into the small of her back, lightly guiding her as if he did it every day. He unlocked the door. “We need to formulate a decorating plan.”

  “A plan sounds good.” There she was, being lame again. His nearness made her dizzy. She forced her feet forward and followed a skipping Macie into the house. The beep, beep of a security system barely penetrated her foggy brain as she slipped out of her coat. Macie took it from her and disappeared deeper into the house. Michael punched in a code, it silenced and she tumbled into the kitchen.

  Amazing. Long black-and-gold marble counters, gleaming stainless appliances, pendant lights hanging like icicles over the island. Ropes of red Christmas lights marched along hand-carved cherrywood cabinets and led the way to the family room where a festive tree came to life when Macie knelt down to flip the switch. Twinklers flashed in a slow cadence, shining on glass ornaments. A delicate angel topped the tree, holding a hymnbook, mouth open as if in song.

  “See?” Macie gestured with her casted arm to beneath the tree. “I put a blanket there for when my kitten comes so she’ll have a soft place to sleep on Christmas morning.”