by Cate Beauman
“So you made it.”
“I did.” He looked at his watch. “About an hour ago.”
“I noticed. Mrs. Mickle likes to talk.”
He puffed out a breath. “Tell me about it.”
She smiled. “You clean up nice.”
“Thanks. Uh, you too.”
She smiled again. “Thanks.”
He took in the dozens of food selections to choose from on the long table. “Nice spread.”
“There usually is.” She plucked up a piece of ham and a scoop of scalloped potatoes.
“But where’s the Yule log?”
She stopped with the salad server halfway to her plate and laughed.
He loved that sound—liked knowing he could still make her smile like that. “It’s a good question.”
“You’re the Special Agent. I’ll let you solve the mystery.”
He made a sound in his throat, ignoring her assumption, and followed her to the table, noting the hot look from Rod who was forced to find somewhere else to sit. “Roast beef and ham. I don’t know where to start.”
“Sometimes you just have to dive in.” She took a chunk of the beef off his plate and sampled. “Mmm. That’s a good place to start.”
“Noted.” He took his own bite, nodded. “Yeah. That’s good.”
“Now look at this.” Mrs. Mickle stopped at the table. “It sure is nice to see you two together again.” She patted both of their shoulders and walked off.
He cleared his throat in the sudden awkwardness.
“So,” Julie said, cutting into her potatoes. “I’m dying to know. How was work?”
“Good. Busy.” And that’s all he planned to say about that.
“You’re just going to leave me hanging?” she asked, covering her full mouth with her hand as she spoke.
He frowned. “Only because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She smiled. “Tatiana Livingston. I saw you with her last night on the red carpet.”
He steamed out a long, quiet breath. Great. He didn’t want to explain, especially not to Jules. “I’m not with the FBI anymore.”
Her eyes went huge as she set down her fork. “What? Why?”
He shrugged. “Some stuff went down, and I wanted out.”
“But that’s all you ever wanted.”
The FBI wasn’t the only thing he’d wanted. As he stared into her big hazel eyes, he almost said exactly that, which was exactly why he had to be careful around Julie. He’d always been able to tell her anything and everything. But that wasn’t the way things were anymore.
“Wow. Wow,” she said again, shaking her head. “So what are you doing now?”
“Close protection. I work for Ethan Cooke Security.”
Her brow rose. “Fancy. Apparently you guard movie stars.”
He smiled at her assessment of his job. “Sometimes but mostly I go overseas—to the Middle East when companies send their employees over for business.”
“Are there a lot?”
“Enough.”
“Still fluent in Farsi and Arabic?”
For several years, he’d spoken more Farsi and Arabic than English. “Yeah.” He thought of the hours he spent trying to teach her Farsi while he was learning. The only thing that ever stuck was dooset daram—I love you. “Pretty much.” He wanted to keep things simple, to keep his distance—needed to, but he was curious about the life she’d led while he’d been gone, and now seemed like the time to ask. “And you? What happened to skating?”
“I gave it up. Things didn’t go well at regionals. My heart wasn’t in it anymore. I knew I was finished when I looked up in the stands, saw Gram and Nana, but the rest of my cheering section was gone—my mom and Gramps.” She shrugged.
And him. She didn’t have to say it, but he knew.
“My whole life was wrapped up in skating. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with myself. Massage and yoga seemed to stick, so I went with it.”
“They seem to work.”
“They do,” she agreed, finishing off her meal.
“I was—”
Julie gripped his forearm. “There it is,” she hissed.
His gaze whipped up to hers and followed hers. He relaxed when he saw Mrs. Mickle placing the Yule log in the center of the dessert table.
She leaned in closer to him. “I say we go for it,” she whispered conspiratorially, her eyes full of fun as they held his. “I’ll grab the plates and distract while you slice. Don’t feel like you have to be stingy with my piece. I work out every day.”
He grinned. “You’ve got it.”
They stood and moved forward. “I’ll trip anyone who gets in the way,” she said, even as she slowed for Mr. Cunningham as he maneuvered his walker toward the same destination.
“After some of that Yule log, are you, girl?”
“I am.” She grabbed the last two plates. “Can we cut you a piece?”
“If I could trouble you for delivery service too.”
“Absolutely.” She took the first slice Chase cut and walked at Mr. Cunningham’s side, setting his serving in front of him. She kissed his cheek, then started back Chase’s way.
Chase held up the one plate and slice he’d managed to cut before everyone started crowding around the prized dessert.
Her smile dimmed. “You only got one?”
“I kind of got shoved out of the way.”
“You should’ve shoved back. You can’t let people push you around.”
He chuckled. “I got two forks.”
“You’ve been redeemed.”
“Thank God.” He took a step toward their table and realized they’d been booted from their spot. “Man, what happened to good will to men and Christmas cheer?”
“It’s every man for himself when it comes to Yule logs and available seating.”
“I guess we’ll stand.” He sampled the treat as she did, savoring the moist chocolate cake and decadent frosting. “Oh, yeah. As good as I remember.” He swallowed. “She’ll go down in history for this.” He shook his fork at the delicious confection.
“Kind of like Nana and her chocolate chip cookies.”
“Mmm,” he agreed. “Exactly.”
“She taught me how to make them.”
“Nana taught you the secret recipe?”
“Of course she did. I’m her favorite girl.” She smiled smugly. “She said she wanted the recipe to live on.” Julie ate more chocolate. “I’ll have to make you a batch before you leave.”
He didn’t want to talk about leaving right now. “Care packages are always welcome.”
She laughed.
“The guys I work with would devour them.” Before he knew it, they’d finished their slice. “I’ll go put this in the kitchen.”
“I’ll come with you.”
He set the dish on the counter among the dozens of other stacks. “I’d hate to be in charge of cleaning this up.”
“I know, right?” They both attempted to walk through the doorway at the same time and got squished.
Julie chuckled as he took a step back. “Sorry.”
“I guess—” Chase was cut off by the tinkle of a bell.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Mr. Mickle said, “we have our first couple under the mistletoe.”
Everyone stopped and looked at him and Julie.
He glanced up at the sprigs of green pinned to the doorframe as Julie did the same, meeting her horrified eyes.
“We definitely don’t have to,” she said in a rush.
“What are you waiting for, Rider?” Billy hollered, laughing, more than a little liquored up.
She swallowed. “Chase—”
“We’ll just do it.” His heartbeat echoed in his ears as they held each other’s gazes. He leaned in, pausing with his lips a whisper from hers.
She closed her eyes, and he touched his mouth to hers. Their lips clung for a second, then two, and Julie gripped his wrist as their mouths met again, longer, before they both pulled away
to a couple of hoots and hollers.
“Smokin’ hot. Definitely some heat there, eh, buddy?” Billy laughed and earned a swat on the arm from his wife.
Julie swallowed again, her breath coming faster and unsteady as the party started picking up around them. “I should—Mindy’s probably looking for me,” she mumbled and walked off.
He stared after her, watching Mindy put a supportive arm around Julie’s waist as she nodded. So much for light conversation and leaving the past in the past. “Damn it.” Chase moved to the beverage table, licking his lips, tasting Julie. He grabbed another beer, took a deep swallow, and walked over by Billy. Listening to his old friend tell bad jokes was better than thinking about what just happened.
~~~~
Julie glanced at the mantle clock again, as she’d done several times over the last hour. Agonizing seconds seemed to tick by in years while she forced smiles and struggled to keep up with conversations. She couldn’t stop thinking about Chase.
They’d had fun talking and laughing over dinner and cake. Finally, their conversation had flowed as easily as it used to. And then they’d kissed. It was simple but not that simple. Quick but not that quick. Their lips hadn’t met once but two times.
Twice they’d pressed their mouths together, not long enough to savor but certainly long enough to make her heart race and her stomach come alive with butterflies. Even now, her pulse kicked up a beat when she thought of the way he’d stared into her eyes. She snuck another peek his way and could only be thankful his back was turned to her.
“…hide it at your house? Jules.”
Her gaze whipped back to Mindy’s. “Huh? I’m sorry?”
“I wanted to hide Meadow’s new bike at your house.”
“Oh, yeah. Yes. Sure. You can definitely do that.” She sighed, shaking her head as Mindy looked at her with her eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry.”
Mindy glanced toward Chase in the crowd. “Sweetie, why don’t you go home?”
“I think I probably should.”
“You definitely should. Go home and get some rest.”
She nodded.
“Or you can come to our house and sleep in the guest room. You know Meadow would love it.”
“Aw.” She hugged her friend. “That’s sweet, but I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She looked out the window, where the snow was still falling. “Although I think I’ll be canceling skating lessons if this keeps up.”
“Call me. Come over for dinner if you want.”
“Thanks.” She kissed Mindy’s cheek. “You’re the best.” She gave Mindy’s hand a gentle squeeze and wandered to the den, finding her coat and purse among the pile. Slipping it on, she sought out Mrs. Mickle.
“Are you leaving, honey?”
“I am.” She gave her host a hug. “Thank you for a lovely evening. I had so much fun.”
“I’m glad you could make it.” Mrs. Mickle drew away, taking Julie’s hand. “I’ll see you soon for another one of your delightful massages.”
“Thursday.”
“Thursday,” Mrs. Mickle confirmed with a wink.
“Bye.” She walked through the maze of people and made her escape, breathing in deep, welcoming the chilly air and peace that came with a good snowfall as she started down the path.
“Jules.”
Stopping, she turned and barely suppressed a groan as Chase jogged her way. He looked so good in khakis and a sweater. He tasted so good, too—just the way she remembered. She wanted to be alone.
He stopped in front of her, his breath pluming in frosty white puffs. “Do you want a ride?”
She shook her head. “I think I’m good.”
“I’ll walk with you then.”
She didn’t want him to walk with her. “What about your truck?”
“I’ll get it tomorrow.”
“You don’t have a jacket.”
“It’s not that far.”
She shook her head again. “I’m fine. Really.”
“It’s dark and snowing. I’m not letting you leave by yourself.”
She smiled, touched by his sense of chivalry. “This is Bakersfield, Chase. Not Los Angeles.”
“Bad things happen in small towns too. I can get you statistics if you want. In fact—”
He wasn’t going away. She sighed. “All right. I’ll take the ride.”
He sent her a satisfied smile. “Good choice.”
She hurried to the red truck she recognized and got in, fastening her safety belt as Chase took his seat and did the same. He started the engine and pulled out smoothly enough in the piling inches, and they were officially stuck together for the next four blocks. The quiet she’d savored for mere seconds now hung heavy around them. “So tonight was fun,” she tried.
“Yeah. It was nice seeing everyone.”
“I’m sorry about the whole mistletoe thing.” There. Now it was out in the open.
He shrugged. “It was no big deal.”
No big deal? Really? “Right.” She bumped her knee up and down, waiting for the torture to be over.
“I don’t want things to be awkward.” He turned down Old Hickory Lane. “Mistletoe happens, Jules. Tonight it happened to us.”
“Mistletoe happens,” she repeated, frowning, then laughed when he smiled at her, and suddenly their impromptu kiss was no big deal. “I guess it did.”
“I’m just glad I was standing next to you and not Billy.”
She laughed again. “Ditto on that one.”
“So we’re good?” He stopped in front of her house.
“We’re good.” She unbuckled and reached for the door handle. “Uh, do you want to park and come in and see the tree?”
“Sure.” He shifted into first and pulled into Nana’s drive. They got out and walked around to her back door.
“I can’t wait for you to see it.” She twisted the key in the lock. “Broken picture frames and sappy hands were definitely worth it.”
“Let’s take a look.”
She stepped inside, making way for him. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.”
She took off her jacket, unzipped her boots, and pulled her feet free, sighing and wiggling her toes in her socks. “Much better.”
“I don’t know how you ladies wear those things.”
“It’s nice to be tall for a few hours.”
He lifted his eyebrow as he glanced from her face to the boots and back. “I don’t know if I would call that extra inch those give you ‘tall.’”
She grinned. This was nice, having the old Chase back. “I’ll take whatever I can get. Come on up.” She gestured with her head and started up the stairs, stopping in the living room doorway with him at her side. The tree glowed, casting hints of light into the corners of the darkened space.
He whistled through his teeth, nodding his approval. “Very nice, Jules.”
She beamed. “I told you it was perfect.”
“You were right.”
“Nana made the tree skirt for me last year. It was my favorite present.”
He walked over to the tree and crouched down, fingering the pretty dark red and green fabric. “She had quite a hand with the sewing machine.”
“She did.” She joined him, getting to her knees next to him, toying with one of the ornaments. “Her gift. She and Gram both tried to teach me, but it’s just not my thing.”
“But you make good quiche.”
She stared at Chase in the soft wash of light, suddenly sad, knowing they would never have another moment like this. They would never share another piece of Mrs. Mickle’s Yule log or drive home from a Christmas party while the windshield wipers chased away snowflakes. In a week, he would pack up and leave, and he’d be gone for good this time. “Do you—do you want some hot chocolate?”
“I should probably head home.”
She nodded, knowing that was for the best as they held each other’s gazes for far longe
r than they should. “Okay.”
He stood and extended his hand.
She took it and gained her feet. “I have your fudge.” She walked back downstairs and opened the fridge, taking the red tin from the top shelf. Turning, she handed it over. “Here you go.”
“I’m looking forward to this.”
“I hope you enjoy it.” She walked him to the door. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with the bathrooms.”
“I will. Night, Jules.”
“Good night.” She smiled and shut the door, watching him disappear around the side through the small window. She let loose an unsteady breath. “Friends. Friends, if even that,” she reminded herself, locking up and went back upstairs, ready to put this rollercoaster of an evening to bed.
Chapter Nine
Julie finished her last bite of cherry yogurt and rinsed the carton for recycling. She peered out the window when a movement in the backyard caught her attention. Smiling, she inched closer to the glass, watching Chase clear away the snow from the ice in a pair of hockey skates with the removal tool Pop and Gramps Keller designed for them long ago. For years, she’d dreamt of making it to the Olympics while Chase hoped for a career in professional hockey. They’d spent hours on the pond during their winter breaks, perfecting their skills side by side.
She hesitated at the counter, wondering if she should stay inside, but eventually walked to the coat hook and put on her thin-lined jacket, gloves, and hat. Then she sunk her feet into her boots, grabbed her skates, and hurried out the back door. After a surprisingly good night of sleep despite the confusion of kisses under the mistletoe and long gazes by the Christmas tree, she felt steadier. She’d gotten lost in the sentiment of the holidays and having Chase back in her life, but she knew as well as he did that they could only be friends—would only be friends. “Good morning.”
