Holly Jolly Lycan Christmas

by Alicia Montgomery

  Though she protested, she was glad Dante was here. Why his presence was so soothing right now, she didn’t know. Why he even cared this much was a mystery to her, too. She was nobody to him. For crying out loud, they’d only met a week ago. Had it been only a week? Looking back at the events of the past seven days, it was like a lifetime ago to her. Their little fight seemed silly, after all this.

  “You can stop over there,” she said, pointing to the building to the right. It was a three-story brownstone, and she and Holly lived on the top floor.

  “Are you going to be all right?” Dante said as he turned to her.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll figure something out. Uhm …” She swallowed her pride, something she didn’t often do. “Thank you. For the ride.”

  “My pleasure,” Dante replied, giving her a smile.

  She ignored the butterflies in her stomach, then opened the door and slid out. She reached for the knob on Hannah’s side. “Let’s go, Hannah,” she called.

  But the little girl stayed inside, not moving.

  “Hannah, do you need help with your seatbelt?”

  No answer.

  With a sigh, she bent down and stuck her head inside. “Hannah? Sweetie, what’s the matter?”

  The little girl’s face was drawn into a frown and she crossed her arms over her chest. She tightened her arms around herself and stuck her lower lip out.

  Holly let out a frustrated sigh and crawled into the backseat. She reached for the belt buckle, but Hannah covered it with her hands. “Hannah!” she admonished.

  “What’s the matter?” Dante asked, turning his head to look at them

  “I don’t know …” Holly bit her lip. What had gotten into her niece? “Okay, sweetie, what do you want? Do you want a treat? A toy?”

  She shook her head, then pointed at Dante and then the apartment building.

  “I don’t understand. Please, sweetie, just one word. Tell me what you want.” Holly’s voice trembled, but she refused to cry. Not in front of Hannah and certainly not in front of Dante.

  Hannah shook her head again, then repeated the motion. Dante. The building.

  Dante unbuckled his seatbelt and then got out of the driver’s seat. He opened the other passenger door and slid in next to Hannah.

  “Hannah, hon,” he began, his voice gentle. “Did you want me to bring you upstairs?”

  She nodded.

  “No way,” Holly protested. “Hannah, Dante has to go.”

  But Dante had already unbuckled Hannah’s seat and had the little girl in his arms.

  “Argghh!” She curled her hands into fists and smashed them into the Jaguar’s plush leather seats. What the heck was going on with Hannah? She normally didn’t like strangers. Sliding out of the backseat, she closed the door and jogged up to Dante and Hannah, who were already waiting for her. She unlocked the front door and went up the stairs first, leading Dante to their apartment.

  “Okay, Hannah,” Holly said as she opened the door. “Time to say goodbye. Dante is very busy and has to get going.”

  But Hannah tightened her grip around Dante’s neck.

  He shot her a sheepish look. “Maybe she wants me to stay.”

  “S-stay?” she stammered. No, Dante can’t stay! He wouldn’t want to. She squared her shoulders and put on her best authoritative voice. “Young lady, you are being ridiculous. Dante can’t stay. He has things going on and has to go visit with his family. Now, come with me. We’re going to take a nap.” She encircled her arms around Hannah and pulled, but the little girl let out a moan of protest. Now she was really angry. “Hannah! Let go!”

  “Shhh,” Dante said, running a soothing hand down Hannah’s back. “I can stay for a bit.”

  “But … Nonna Gianna’s waiting for you. She came all the way here.”

  “I’ll send her a text message. It’ll be fine; she’s with my sister and her kids. I can stay until Hannah’s settled.”

  “What?” No way. Dante Muccino was not going to come into her apartment. “You can’t—”

  “I don’t think I have a choice,” he said with a grin, as Hannah’s octopus-like limbs wrapped around him. He strode past Holly and into the apartment. “Do you want to show me your room, hon?” Hannah’s arm shot out and pointed to her door. “Do you have some cool toys?” Hannah nodded and then Dante walked them toward the room. He opened the door and strode in, leaving the door open. As Hannah slid down, she grabbed his hand and tugged him to the corner where she kept her dollhouse.

  Holly would have felt irritation if envy and jealousy weren’t creeping in. Hannah never warmed up to strangers. When she came to take guardianship of Hannah, she herself was a virtual stranger to the little girl. While she was growing up, Holly had only seen Hannah a handful of times, so it was understandable that she was standoffish at first. She thought she was at least making some progress. But one smile from Dante Muccino, and Hannah was his best friend.

  With an irritated grunt, she yanked the zipper of her coat down, shoved it and her boots into the closet. She groaned as she turned and looked at the living room. They weren’t exactly prepared for guests and it was obvious she didn’t have time to clean. There were clothes and toys scattered all over the living room. The throw pillows were askew and coloring books covered the coffee table. And she was pretty sure there were some dishes in the sink she hadn’t put away yet. Ugh.

  Holly glanced over at Dante and Hannah, then proceeded to straighten up the living room. As she was putting away the coloring books, she started when she heard Dante’s voice.

  “I think she wants to watch a movie,” he said.

  Hannah was sitting on the couch, pointing to the TV. She was holding a DVD of her favorite Princess movie.

  “Do you want to watch Princess Arya, sweetheart?” Holly asked.

  Hannah nodded and gave her a smile, the first one she’d seen in a while, and Holly nearly wept in relief. Truth be told, her anger and resentment hid her worry. That scratch down Hannah’s cheek wasn’t looking too bad, but Holly couldn’t help but feel guilty. Her niece had been hurt, and she wasn’t there to protect her. Her smile, though, made some of the heavy weight pressing on her chest lift off.

  “Okay, sweetie, if that’s what you want.” She took the DVD, popped it into the machine, then turned the TV on. The opening credits began to play, and she strode back to Hannah. “Why don’t you watch the movie with Dante, and I can—”

  Hannah leapt up to her, grabbing her by the hand and tugging her down with such force she fell on the couch. “Oommph!” She lay on the couch, sprawled down. “Hannah …”

  “C’mon, just sit and watch with us,” Dante said. “She just wants to spend time with you.”

  With a defeated sigh, she settled down next to Hannah, who, again, smiled and then cuddled up next to her. She ruffled Hannah’s hair and pulled a throw over them as they watched the movie.

  As the movie played, Holly only half watched it. She’d seen it a million times at this point, though she really loved the songs. But that wasn’t the reason why she couldn’t pay attention to the film.

  Dante Muccino’s presence distracted her. He was four feet away from her, Hannah in between them, but, still, she couldn’t help but glance at him every now and then. The glow from the TV screen illuminated his features. Her eyes traced his profile, from his aquiline nose to high cheekbones to that strong chin. And those unusual eyes. God, his lashes were so thick, it was unfair. And those lips. They seemed so full and—

  He suddenly turned, then flashed her a knowing smile. She turned away quickly, embarrassed she’d been caught staring. Hopefully he wouldn’t think anything of it.

  Soon, the end credits rolled. Finally. It was also nearing dinner time, and Holly was once again filled with dread. Getting Hannah to eat was another struggle, and she didn’t know how parents did it. “Okay, sweetheart, movie’s over. It’s time for dinner, and Dante needs to go soon.”

  Hannah frowned and put on a pou
t.

  “Just a few more minutes, okay? I’m gonna go heat up some chicken. Would you like that?”

  Hannah turned away from her and looked at Dante instead.

  Holly put her hands up in frustration and turned around, walking toward the kitchen in defeat. She was taking the leftover roast chicken from the fridge and about to close the door when she felt a presence nearby. She nearly dropped the container on the floor.

  “Jesus,” she said, placing her free hand on her chest as her heart raced a mile a minute. Dante was standing in the entryway, leaning against the frame, a smile on his face. How did he move so quietly?

  “Everything all right? You seemed a little … off back there?”

  “Is it that obvious?” she asked. “I just … and this is frustrating for me as a chef, but Hannah’s my toughest customer yet. She doesn’t eat anything I make her.” There, she said it. “She’ll have a nibble here or there. Cereal or toast in the morning and lunch at school. But when she’s here, she won’t eat. I just … I worry she’s not getting the nutrients she needs. What if she’s malnourished and I don’t know? Her growth could be stunted, and she might not develop the way she’s supposed to and—” A quiet gasp escaped her lips as Dante closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her upper arms. She hoped he didn’t see her shiver when the touch sent tingles over her skin.

  “Hey, hey … it’s okay.” He peered down at her with those unusual eyes. “What have you been giving her?”

  “Everything. Anything. I’ve made her coq au vain, tarte flambee, steak diane. I even tried making ratatouille that looked like the one from that Disney movie. She stared at it, but didn’t eat a bite.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “She’s a kid, not The New York Times food critic.”

  “Those are healthy, classical French mea—What are you doing?”

  Dante had turned to her fridge, opened the door, and was now rooting around inside. “Don’t you have hot dogs in here? Chicken nuggets?”

  “Why would I have that in my fridge? That’s junk food.”

  “Ah-hah!” Dante held up a container of chicken breast. “It doesn’t have to be junk food; it has to be kid food,” he said. “Now, why don’t you go out there and I’ll fix us up some dinner.”

  “Excuse me?” Irritation prickled at her. “You are not cooking in my—” A crash from the living room interrupted her.

  “Go,” he urged. “I’ll take care of things here.”

  She wanted to protest, really, but she didn’t have the energy. Heading out to the living room, she saw that Hannah had knocked over a box of markers and they had spilled all over the floor. “Hey sweetie, let’s get this cleaned up, then wash our hands. Dante’s making us dinner.”

  Hannah helped her put the markers away, and then they went to the bathroom to wash their hands. They cleared the messy dining room table, and then began to set the table using the china they kept in the cabinet. Dante said he still needed about thirty minutes, so Holly put on the TV and sat on the couch watching cartoons with Hannah.

  Finally, Dante came out of the kitchen with a large serving bowl. Holly had to admit it smelled delicious and her stomach gurgled when the smell of cheese hit her nose.

  “All right ladies, I’ve got mac and cheese here and the chicken will be right out,” he announced, placing the bowl on the table. He disappeared into the kitchen and came back with the chicken. He motioned for Hannah and Holly to sit and then served them some of the food before taking his seat.

  “This looks delicious,” Holly said. And she meant it. He had somehow found enough ingredients in her kitchen to make homemade chicken fingers and mac and cheese. She took a bite, let out an involuntary moan, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she saw Dante staring at her and she swallowed hard.

  Dante turned to Hannah. “Hannah, what’s wrong? Don’t you like the food?”

  Holly sighed. “I told you. She’s just picky.”

  Hannah stared down at the plate.

  “You know who’d be disappointed if you didn’t eat your meal?” Dante began. “Princess Arya.”

  Hannah gave him a suspicious look.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I know Princess Arya. She’s a friend of mine.”

  Hannah turned to Holly and then Dante with a skeptical look on her face.

  “Dante, it’s okay,” Holly said. “She’s just not into food.”

  “No, I mean, really, I know her.” He chuckled and grabbed his phone. “Not the animated Princess Arya, but the girl who did her voice and sang all those songs.”

  “You know Evie King?” Holly asked.

  “Yeah, she eats at Muccino’s all the time. She’s uh, kinda like extended family, actually.” Dante scrolled through his pictures, and his eyes lit up when he found what he was looking for. “See?”

  Holly squinted at the screen. It was a selfie of Dante and a pretty young woman with brown hair. The next picture showed her at a booth inside Muccino’s, sitting next to a handsome bearded man and a little boy as she blew out a candle on a cake. That was definitely Evie King. She’d tried to get tickets to one of her shows, hoping to bring Hannah to meet her at the backstage door, but tickets had been sold out for months after she won some award a while back.

  “Hannah, look!” Holly said, scrolling to the previous photo and pushing the phone toward her niece. “It’s Dante and Princess Arya.”

  The little girl’s nose scrunched up, then her eyes went wide as she recognized her idol on the small screen. She looked at Dante with an amazed expression.

  “See? I told you she was my friend. Do you want me to call her and tell her you aren’t eating all this food I made for you? She’d be really disappointed, I think. She loves eating my food.”

  Hannah shook her head, picked up her fork, and stabbed a bit of the macaroni. She put it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Then she did something Holly hadn’t seen in a long time. Hannah began to eat, taking bites of the chicken and macaroni and cheese.

  Holly glanced over at Dante, a wry expression on her face. “Ah, so that’s how you make them eat. Threats.”

  “I think it was more of a persuasive argument,” he said, giving her a wink. “But potato, potahtoh.”

  Holly laughed. “Right.”

  Chapter Seven

  After dinner and some hot chocolate, they watched one more movie and then Holly declared it was bedtime. Despite her protest, Hannah’s eyes were already drooping. She gave Dante a wry smile as she picked up Hannah and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Not sure what to do, Dante busied himself cleaning up the kitchen. Holly’s fridge and pantry were well-stocked, which had made it easy for him to whip up a quick meal. Cheese, noodles, chicken breasts, breadcrumbs, and some spices, then voila, instant dinner. Of course, it had been quick thinking on his part to leverage his celebrity friend to get Hannah to eat, but Holly had been distressed the whole day and he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass by if he could relieve some of that. He made a mental note to send a DVD to Evie and ask her to sign it for Hannah.

  He plopped down on the couch when he was done. So, Hannah was Holly’s niece. Not that it made any difference to him. Holly was just his … what? An acquaintance, he supposed. And, the rare smiles he saw from her today made his wolf rumble in contentment—a first since he’d met Holly. His animal was hell bent on being difficult the past few days, but now it was calm.

  “Okay, sweetie,” Holly said as they came out of the bathroom. Hannah was dressed in her pajamas. “Give Dante a goodnight hug and then off to bed.”

  Hannah dashed to him and launched herself into his arms. He caught her and squeezed her tight. “Goodnight, honey,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

  The little girl nodded and pulled away from him, then took Holly’s hand before they went into her bedroom. A few minutes later, Holly came out.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said. “And you cleaned, too.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “My non
na always said, ‘a person who knows how to cook, knows how to clean.’”

  “You shouldn’t have, really.”

  “Then why don’t you thank me with a bottle of that Bordeaux I saw in your pantry?”

  She flashed him a wry smile. “I had to get my friend who was coming from Paris to smuggle that back here. But, I suppose getting Hannah to eat was one win in this otherwise shitty day, so I can share.” Holly walked to the kitchen, then came back with the bottle and two glasses. She set them on the coffee table and handed him the corkscrew and bottle.

  He obliged, opening it with expert ease, and then poured them both a glass. “This is good,” he said after taking a taste.

  Holly closed her eyes, her pink lips on the rim as she took a sip. He couldn’t help but watch her, as he had been doing the whole night. With her hair unbound, her body relaxed, and her defenses down, how could he not? It was like he was seeing a completely different person, not the cool, calculated chef she projected herself to be.

  She let out a deep breath and set the glass down. “You didn’t have to stay, you know. I can handle Hannah.”

  “I know,” he said. “But I wanted to.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she leaned back on the couch. “But tomorrow is another day. I have to figure out what I’m going to do with Hannah now. Her babysitter isn’t available until after school. I don’t know if I can take the time off from the restaurant. Sharice wouldn’t mind, but—”

  “But the restaurant is your baby,” he finished. “It’s important to you.”

  Her eyes dropped to the floor. “That’s awful to say, but also true. I’m a terrible person, aren’t I?”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice a little too forceful than he intended. “You took her in, taking care of her instead of letting her go into the system. Doesn’t sound like a terrible person to me.”

  “I know, I just …” She shook her head. “Never mind.”