Welcome to Serenity

by Sherryl Woods

  “I’d be hard pressed to come up with five kids overnight, but I see your point,” Jeanette said. “I need to count my blessings.”

  “And Tom could be one of those if you’ll open your heart to him,” Maddie reminded her. “Work this out, sweetie. I know you want to.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Jeanette admitted, her gaze searching the crowded square before finally finding Tom near the stage. He and Santa—Howard—were arguing, yet again. Then Howard plunked an extra Santa hat on Tom’s head and Jeanette found herself chuckling at his obvious discomfort.

  Maddie nudged her with an elbow. “You’ve gotta love a man in a Santa hat.”

  Jeanette sighed. “Yeah, I suppose I do.”

  But that didn’t seem to stop her from wondering if she was going to live to regret it.

  * * *

  Tom looked around the town square at the awed expressions on the kids’ faces and shook his head. Maybe only someone under twelve could truly enjoy Christmas, he mused.

  He turned to share his thoughts with Jeanette and realized that she was gazing around at all the lights with that same look of awe on her face. He frowned.

  “You really have gotten into this, haven’t you?”

  “Don’t make it sound like an accusation,” she responded. “I have gotten into it. Just look at all these people, Tom. Look at how happy the kids are. Even Howard’s in his element up there handing out candy canes and Erik’s cookies and letting the kids whisper their Christmas wishes in his ear.”

  “How are they going to feel on Christmas morning when they don’t get what they asked for?”

  She whirled on him. “Would you just give it a rest? Look how the town has come together for this event. That’s a good thing. Lighten up, okay?”

  “You know, I really don’t understand you anymore,” he said, genuinely bewildered by her change in attitude.

  “Ditto,” she said, walking away.

  Years ago, faced with his parents’ total lack of interest in ensuring their children enjoyed the holiday season, using it mainly as a time to enhance social connections, Tom had learned to be independent, not to rely on anyone for his happiness. Tonight, though, for the very first time he felt well and truly alone. It scared him to think that Jeanette might use this as yet another reason to keep their relationship from moving forward. Things had been going well recently, and now, it seemed he was about to ruin it. He had to get a grip, remember what really mattered.

  “You look as if someone just stole your Christmas presents,” Ronnie noted, joining him. “Where’s Jeanette?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Ronnie gave him a knowing look. “Did you two have a fight?”

  “Apparently,” he said.

  Ronnie nodded sagely. “Ah, one of those. They’re the toughest kind to handle. Did she give you any clues?”

  “It had something to do with my bah-humbug attitude.”

  Ronnie grinned. “Yeah, you really do need to work on that. The whole town’s talking about what a grump you are. It probably doesn’t bode well for your future as town manager.”

  Tom stared at him incredulously. “You think I could be fired because I’m not filled with the Christmas spirit?”

  “Serenity does have certain expectations for its town officials,” Ronnie said solemnly.

  “You can’t be serious!”

  Ronnie chuckled. “Okay, I’m kidding. Your job is probably safe, but you really do need to loosen up about the holidays.”

  Tom sighed. “I know.”

  “Then maybe you should get a clue,” Ronnie suggested. “Go find some mistletoe, drag Jeanette under it and kiss her like there’s no tomorrow.”

  “And you think that will fix things?”

  “Probably not, but it might be a good start.”

  “Given her current mood, she’ll probably slug me.”

  “That’s why we have paramedics on standby,” Ronnie said.

  “I thought that was in case somebody choked on a hot dog,” Tom muttered.

  “They multitask,” Ronnie assured him. “Find the woman and kiss her before all of this gets blown out of proportion.”

  “Kissing can’t solve this problem,” Tom said.

  “Maybe not, but it can remind you both that what you have is worth fighting for.”

  Tom regarded him with envy. “How’d you get to be so smart?”

  “By blowing my marriage to smithereens and having to fight like hell to get it back,” Ronnie said. “Take it from me, it’s smarter to appreciate what you have before it gets away from you.”

  Appreciating Jeanette wasn’t the problem. Understanding her was the hard part, but Ronnie was right about one thing. He didn’t want to lose her and take a chance on spending the rest of his life without her.

  * * *

  Jeanette was standing alone under a tree watching Mary Vaughn and Sonny. They’d set up chairs side by side in front of the stage and were seemingly listening to the concert by the town’s choirs, though from what she could tell, neither one of them had glanced at the stage in the past half hour. They were totally, one hundred percent absorbed in each other. She envied them.

  “What are the odds at Wharton’s on those two getting back together?” Tom asked, coming up beside her.

  “Probably higher than the bets they’re placing on the two of us,” she reported glumly.

  He turned her to face him. “I’m sorry about earlier. For too many years just the sound of Christmas music was enough to put me in a foul mood. You have no idea how much hypocrisy there was in my house. Our celebration didn’t have anything to do with love or goodwill. It was materialistic in the extreme. There were mountains of presents on Christmas morning, though they had little to do with anything my sisters or I wanted. Instead my parents bought what they thought we should have so they could gloat to their friends that they’d found the impossible-to-find latest toy or technology gizmo. You would have thought the holidays were invented to advance my mother’s personal social agenda.”

  “Didn’t you ever wonder why that mattered so much to her?” Jeannette asked.

  He regarded her with puzzlement. “There you go again, hinting that there’s some deep dark secret I’m missing. If you know something, tell me.”

  “It’s not my place.”

  “Then excuse me if I go on hating the holidays.”

  “Okay, you were a classic poor little rich boy,” she said. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

  Tom winced. “No. I’m just trying to make you understand.”

  “I do understand. We all have things in our pasts we’d like to forget, things that didn’t go the way we thought we deserved or the way we hoped they would. Grow up. Get over it.”

  “The righteousness of the recently converted,” Tom commented.

  Jeanette stared at him in shock. “What does that mean?”

  “Not all that long ago, you were letting the past rule your life, too,” he reminded her. “Now you’ve found a way to reconcile with your parents and to look at the holiday season from a new perspective. And that’s wonderful. It really is. I wouldn’t want anything less for you. Just give the rest of us time to catch up.”

  “I never meant to...” Her voice trailed off.

  What had she meant? Maybe she had been judging him too harshly for not adapting and rejoicing at the same pace she had—especially when she knew about his mother and why she placed so much emphasis on status when he didn’t. What was wrong with her? She of all people knew that pain and heartache were individual. What her father and mother had felt wasn’t the same thing she’d experienced. Their grief had taken them in one direction, leaving her out and causing her to suffer in a different way entirely.

  Perhaps Tom hadn’t suffered the major loss she and her family had,
but she knew all too well how being disconnected from those you loved could hurt. Chances were, his relationship with his family had been awkward and difficult all year long, but it had probably felt a thousand times worse during the holidays when other families were celebrating together. She had no right to minimize any of that.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just wanted us to be able to share this, to enjoy the magic of the holidays together.”

  “And we will,” he promised. “I will get there, maybe not before we run out of eggnog tonight, but I will get there.”

  She pulled his head down and kissed him slowly, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease, breathing in the scent of him, which mingled with the scent of pine in the air.

  “You know,” he said softly, his lips against hers, “I think some of the magic of the season is rubbing off on me, after all.”

  * * *

  Mary Vaughn felt as if she’d never thrown a party before in her life. She’d been dashing around the house for the past hour double-checking every detail, making sure that the caterer had the food displayed just right for the buffet, that there wasn’t a speck of dust on the chandelier in the dining room, that not one single bulb had blown out on the dozens of strands on the massive tree in the living room.

  “Will you settle down?” Sonny pleaded, trailing behind her in a way that seemed wonderfully familiar. “Everything’s perfect.”

  “What if no one comes?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Your parties are always the highlight of the season. And every single person we spoke to at the festival tonight said they planned to drop by.”

  “I know, but people get tired. They think it will be packed and no one will miss them.”

  He stopped her as she was about to count the cloth napkins for the second time. With his hands on her shoulders holding her in place, he looked into her eyes. “Why are you so nervous?”

  “Because...” she began, then couldn’t bring herself to finish.

  “Because people are going to know we’re back together?” he asked. “Is that it?”

  She nodded. “I want to make you proud.”

  “You’ve always made me proud.”

  “But I want people to see that I finally really get what an amazing man you are.”

  He tilted her chin up. “The only one who needs to believe that is me.”

  “And quite likely your father,” she said ruefully. “He may not be thrilled that we’re getting back together.”

  “You’re wrong about that. He’s wanted this for a long time.”

  “But he never liked me,” Mary Vaughn protested.

  “No, he never liked that you didn’t love me the way he thought you ought to. He wasn’t blind, Mary Vaughn, and it’s a small town. He knew you never got over Ronnie.”

  “I have now, you know,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. “You’re the only man I want.”

  “I’m actually starting to believe that,” he told her. “In fact, I have an early Christmas present for you.”

  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a box. “It’s not a ring,” he warned when he handed it to her. “I’m telling you that so you won’t be disappointed. It’s too soon for that kind of commitment, but I wanted you to know how I feel about you just the same. I have faith in what’s happening between us.”

  She opened the box to find a piece of estate jewelry inside, a locket. Her fingers trembling, she opened it to find a snapshot of Sonny and Rory Sue on one side. The other side had been engraved with a single word: Forever.

  “That’s what I want for us, Mary Vaughn. This time I want it to be forever.”

  “Oh, Sonny, so do I,” she whispered against his cheek. “So do I.”

  “Shall I put it on for you?” he asked.

  She nodded and lifted her hair out of the way as he dealt with the delicate clasp. The brush of his fingers across the nape of her neck made her shiver with anticipation.

  For the first time, she was glad Rory Sue wasn’t home from college, that she wouldn’t be here for a few more days. It meant she and Sonny would have the house to themselves once the party was over. And if she had her way, they’d make good use of as many bedrooms as they possibly could. She smiled at the thought.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Even though she’d committed to going with Tom, Jeanette wasn’t entirely sure how smart it was to attend the dinner party at his parents’ home the week after the kickoff of the Christmas festival. Tom was on edge, too, which made her even more nervous. There were easily half a dozen ways this night could be a disaster.

  Even as Tom was parking the car in the brick-paved, circular driveway, she was scrambling for an excuse to cut and run. She didn’t trust the truce she’d made with his father, and his mother was too darn unpredictable.

  “This is a bad idea,” she said.

  “You’re just coming to that conclusion now?” Tom said, his own tone dire.

  “You could go alone,” she suggested.

  “While you do what? Hide in the bushes?”

  “You could drop me off at a restaurant and pick me up later.”

  “Not a chance. They’re expecting you. Besides, need I remind you that this was part of our deal? I drop the bah-humbug attitude and you try to get along with my folks.”

  “Whatever,” she said, not nearly as entranced with the idea now that she was on their doorstep.

  “Look, my parents need to get used to the idea that we’re seriously involved. Let’s just go inside and do this,” he said.

  “Whoa!” she protested. “We are not seriously involved. We’re sleeping together, but that’s not the same thing.”

  Tom scowled. “We most certainly are seriously involved. And do you really want to sit out here and debate this when we both know I could prove you wrong if I really wanted to?”

  His confident words made her feel a little reckless...or maybe it was knowing they were practically sitting under his parents’ watchful eyes. She met his gaze. “Oh, yeah?” she challenged.

  He blinked, but then his eyes turned dark and dangerous. “Are you sure you want to challenge me about this right now?”

  “I believe I do,” she said as a little shiver of anticipation scooted up her spine.

  He was out of the car and around to her side in a split second. He yanked open the door and seized her hand. “Let’s go.”

  She saw now that she might have pushed him a tiny bit too far. “Go where?”

  “There’s a guesthouse out back. Nobody’s staying in it.” He was walking so fast, she had to run to keep up with him.

  “Tom, wait,” she protested.

  “I’ve been waiting for this ever since I saw that dress you’re wearing tonight.”

  “We can’t sneak off and get all hot and sweaty in your parents’ guesthouse when they’re expecting us for dinner. It would be rude.” To say nothing of courting disaster. She was skating on very thin ice with his parents as it was.

  He laughed. “Do you really want to discuss etiquette now?”

  “Your mother already has an exceptionally low opinion of me. I don’t want to make it worse.”

  “My opinion’s the one that counts,” he reminded her, though he did slow down and back her into a wrought-iron fence. Then he grabbed the railings on either side of her and leaned in to cover her mouth with his.

  Jeanette gasped, as his tongue plunged inside. With all his hot, very male hardness pressed against her, she forgot why this was such a bad idea. Her hands cupped his face, ensuring that the kiss didn’t end. His hips ground into hers. He reached down, lifted the hem of her dress and slid his hand along her bare thigh until it found the moist core of her. She jerked at the intimate touch and almost flew apart right then and there.

  “Stop,” she murm
ured, then, “No, don’t stop. Don’t... Tom?” His clever fingers dived inside her and then she did come undone. Her eyes wide, her breath coming in quick pants, she met his gaze. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. It...we shouldn’t be doing this.” She buried her head in his shoulder. “Tom, how can I possibly go inside now? Everyone will know what we’ve been doing.”

  He touched a finger to her cheek, brushed back a wayward curl. “There’s a bathroom in the guesthouse. You can check yourself out in the mirror in there, though I happen to think you look amazing, all tousled and glowing.”

  Her hand immediately went to her hair, which was curling wildly after all her earlier attempts to tame it. “Oh, no.”

  “Stop,” he commanded. “The look suits you. Please don’t fix it.”

  “We’ll see,” she said. “Where’s this guesthouse?”

  He led the way to what had once been a gatekeeper’s cottage, guarding the main entrance to the large property. It was only slightly smaller than her new house and had been decorated with a masculine touch in burgundy and navy blues, accented with beige. She studied it, then turned to him. “Your mother did this for you, didn’t she?”

  He nodded. “They had some crazy idea I’d move back home if I had my own place on the property, at least until I married and settled down to the life they envisioned for me.”

  “Did you ever live here?”

  He shook his head. “But they haven’t given up hope. I keep telling them to rent it out, but they refuse to do it. My father says I’m bound to come to my senses one of these days and move back to Charleston, where a good address really matters.”

  Just then she glanced at the clock sitting over the fireplace mantel and realized they were late. “Look at the time. Your mother is going to kill us...or me, anyway. She’ll blame this on me.”

  “I’ll tell her it was my fault,” Tom promised.

  “Two minutes,” Jeanette said and ran for the bathroom.