He took his phone from his pocket. If he called her, what would he say? Would hearing her voice make him feel better or worse? It was 11:53. By now she would probably be distributing glasses of champagne to the locals gathered in the club as everyone got ready to ring in the New Year. He’d never been sentimental about the occasion, but this year, he wished he wasn’t about to perform in front of millions of fans worldwide. He wished he were at the bowling alley with the other two hundred or so celebrants...and he wished he had his arms around one woman in particular, his lips on hers at midnight, and every midnight after that.
“Hey, no one is allowed back here,” he heard the event security guard say behind him for the millionth time so far that evening. Three hundred pounds of solid muscle, the hired guard wasn’t someone anybody wanted to mess with. Brad’s safety wasn’t in question.
“But, I need to see Brad,” a female voice said.
“You and about thirty thousand other women. Sorry, no fans allowed back here.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Miss, I have to ask you to step away,” the guard said.
Brad needed to see who was daring to go up against the menacing guard. Turning, his breath caught in his throat. Melody. Rushing toward them, he said, “It’s okay. She’s okay.”
“Mr. Monroe, I’m under strict rules not to allow anyone back here.” The guard wouldn’t budge.
“She’s a...friend.” Love of his life was more accurate.
“I don’t care if she’s your mother. Safety first,” Darryl said.
Melody shrugged as their eyes met around the guard.
She was here, so close, yet he still couldn’t touch her, hold her... “Okay, she can’t come in, but can you let me out?” He jiggled the thick ropes separating them.
“No, sir. Once you’re in, you have to stay in unless you have a guard with you.”
Fame sure had its downside. “Okay, fine,” he said, gesturing for Melody to move over. He reached across the barricade for her hands, which she extended toward him. He smiled at the sight of the gloves he’d given her for Christmas. Their fingers barely touched, and he stretched even farther. “What are you doing here?” he yelled above the deafening noise in the Square.
Her response was drowned by the crowd’s applause. The mayor and his special guest had taken the stage for the ball drop behind them. He frowned. This wasn’t going to work. Reluctantly letting go of her hand, he reached for his cell phone and quickly called her number, which was still on his screen from when he’d been contemplating calling her moments before.
She gave him a puzzled look.
He gestured toward her purse and mouthed your phone.
Quickly she retrieved it and answered. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I had to see you.”
“What about the bowling alley? The boys?”
“Pretty sure I’m fired from the alley, and the boys are with my parents. I just needed to tell you something and it couldn’t wait.”
“Brad, we need you on cue,” a stagehand said, coming up behind him. The rest of the performers had already taken their places.
“Just a second,” he said. He turned back to Mel. “Tell me.” He held his breath. She’d come all this way. Did he dare hope she was about to tell him what he longed to hear?
“I love you,” she said, her voice barely audible above the roar of the crowd around them. But he heard her.
His reached for her hand again. Damn barricade. He wanted to hop over it and take her in his arms. “I love you, too, Mel,” he said bringing her hand toward his chest but falling several inches short. Oh, come on!
“Brad, we have to go.” The stagehand waved at him from the top of the stairs leading onto the stage.
Brad ignored him. “I wish I could kiss you,” he told Mel.
“That would be nice,” she said with a small laugh. Onstage, the ball dropped. Sixty seconds until midnight. Here she was, his dream come true, and he wouldn’t be able to share a New Year’s kiss with her. This was just too cruel. The clock in the distance read thirty seconds.
“Brad, let’s go!”
“Oh, all right!” the guard said, coming toward them. Leaning over the barricade, he lifted Melody effortlessly over it and set her down in front of Brad. “Kiss your girl,” he said gruffly before moving away.
“Thanks,” Melody said.
“I could have done that,” Brad said, moving closer and wrapping his arms around her. He shoved his phone into his pocket.
“Brad!” The stagehand’s voice was but a distant annoyance as he stared at Melody’s rosy cheeks, her snow-and-confetti-covered hair.
“Say it again,” he said, brushing a stray lock away from her cheek.
She didn’t hesitate. “I love you.”
He wanted to accept it, hold her, kiss her, never let her go, but his mind still plagued him. “Melody, I’ll never be Patrick.”
She ran a hand along his jaw, and then cupped his cold chin with the warmth of the cashmere. “I loved Patrick, and I lost Patrick. Now what I need, what I want, is you.”
“Then be with me, not just right now, but always. You and the boys can come be a part of this life.” He gestured around him. “A part of my life.”
“Ten, nine, eight...”
“Okay,” she said softly.
He couldn’t believe it. Overjoyed, he lifted her off her feet and spun her around. “Okay!”
“...seven, six, five...”
“But I’m not changing my name to Jackson,” she said.
“How about Monroe?”
“...four, three, two...”
“Melody Myers Monroe. I think I like...”
He didn’t let her finish. His lips met hers in a soft, tender kiss as the bell sounded midnight and the sound of “Auld Lang Syne” filled the air around him, a song he was supposed to be singing.
She wriggled out of his arms, her eyes wide. “You need to get up there.” She nudged him toward the stage.
“Come with me.”
“Not on your life...not this time, anyway.”
“But someday?” His expression was hopeful and she smiled at the man she loved.
“Definitely. Someday...”
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460342541
The Mistletoe Melody
Copyright © 2014 by Jennifer Snow
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